I Write To Understand. I Write To Stop Time
I just put out a call to “Remember The Time,” but I neglected to add my own memory! The time I got my first tattoo… Because it wasn’t last month. It was my 16th birthday.
My best friend had slipped be a bottle of India ink with instructions on how to give myself a tattoo:
Doctor Who – Series 1 – Dalek, Written by Robert Shearman
As I said about the previous episodes, the farting aliens severed my interest in this whole series. I didn’t watch for several weeks, but I found myself thinking about it. Has that ever happened to you?
One time, I had been watching this stupid gymnastic show, just ’cause I was working hard on my master’s and needed a mind vacation. After a few episodes, I decided it was too stupid to watch, so I quit. But I kept thinking about the storyline and the characters, and I went back and finished it.
That’s what happened here.
Over the past couple of days, apart from the bullshit coming from the office of our jittery imbecilic president, news stories have been coming out about 20 years of rape and sexual assault done to different women by big ole film dude Harvey Weinstein.
Remember The Time was a monthly blog hop that was done a few years ago by Em of The Waiting, Ashley of Zebra Garden, and later, Kelly of Are You Finished Yet? I imagine that life caught up with them and so they event fell by the wayside, to my disappointment.
Continue reading “Remember The Time…You Got Your First Tattoo?”
Doctor Who – Series 1 – Aliens of London/World War Three – Written by Russell T. Davies
Yesterday, I accidentally released a post I hadn’t quite finished, so I hurriedly and embarrassedly deleted it, but I would still like to visit the topic. Because yesterday last year, October 3rd, was the day we finally got to Ohio and could take a breath.
I think all parents can relate, on some level. This was from about a year ago, when Wee One was much wee-er:
Continue reading “Lines I Didn’t Expect To Utter To My Husband”
Doctor Who – Series 1 – The Unquiet Dead, Mark Gatiss
The one where we get some great words. The scene opens in a funeral home, and the camera shows a young man’s “grand-mama,” who has recently passed away. She is lying peacefully, until her face turns blue and she grabs her grandson’s throat. No peace there. Unintelligible voices in the background seem to be related to this interesting turn of events. An employee of the funeral home tries to shut the old lady into her coffin and he yells for back up: “We’ve got another one!” The old lady throws him off her and walks out and away from the building like a zombie, moaning and shuffling through the snow. That is not going to help the grandson’s grieving process, you know.
At poignant times like this, the birth or death of a love one, a sacred chasm is open and it is easier to peer into and make sense of things beyond.
Rather unexpectedly, my father-in-law, with whom I have been living for the past year, passed away Saturday night. Time has been sort of weird since then. We thought we had a little more time with him, but don’t we always think that? Or hope that?
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 