Once Upon A Scream

A Storybook Day

You have to spend one day as or with your favorite fictional character. Which one would it be and what would you do?

I know, I know big surprise.

I would want to fight monsters with Carl Kolchak for a day.

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When Carl took on a Vampire or Demon he did it with his wits.

He didn’t work out in a gym, he didn’t shoot them over his shoulder with a hi-tech stake gun he didn’t wear leather.

He  went after Zombies with stuff you could pick up at the Dollar Store.

It was simple, efficient and when he took the monsters down it was  oh  so  very glorious.

But this is the best part.

When he was done he wrote about it.

I guess I  really did spend a long summer working with Kolchak when I was about 13 , I was doing a lot of babysitting ( I used to get a lot of jobs. I never raided the fridge, I never used the phone and I used to like to play board games) so I actually spent time with the kids I ‘sat on’.

That was also the summer I learned to play the guitar and I was writing and reading a lot of horror stories so my imagination was working overtime.

This is how my adventures with Kolchak went:

I remember at the  beginning of each episode Kolchak would do a voiceover and from nowhere that voice used to pop into my head when I was walking home late at night after babysitting:

Anita Godfrey, ( Carl would say )  after a long night of babysitting three of the weirdest kids to ever be born,  only had to walk down five doors to the safety of her own home one late June night.

She only made it as far as three doors.

( Monster attacks here )

Anita screams and tries to run.

Muncha Muncha Cruncha.

Saturno

You’d think in those scenarios I’d have made myself the fearless hero, but I could see those monsters run straight at me. I could see their eyes, their teeth their twisted faces covered with dirt from the graves they had crawled out of or covered with cobwebs and dust  from the attics they hid in until sunset.

I wouldn’t have traded that point of view for the world.

Besides a story is a story and I would die to find a good one to tell.

I’m sure Kolchak would approve.

Here There Be Tigers

Home Turf

Name five things in your house that make it a home.

So are these five things that make my house a home material, spiritual are they those  little Anubis Knick Knacks I picked up all over the place when I was learning to be an embalmer?

Are they memoires? Dreams? Hope? Nightmares?

The First thing that makes my house feel like a home is the lack of mirrors.

I would have to learn three other languages just so that I could fully express to you how much I hate mirrors.  I hate their coldness, their lifelessness, I hate they way they hang there and though they don’t judge you, they make it oh so very easy to judge yourself.

Mirrors are demons.

And these demons are  not entertaining  and funny ones that are on shows like Supernatural or The Kardashians

My three black cats and my dog.

Hamish, my dog and Kolchak and Darwin and Micey are my cats.

I’ve always had a dog and cats, when I was living on my own and had no dog and no cats my house was empty and scary and I only showed up there to sleep.

And that was not easy to do for a couple of reasons.

My Grandma told me cats could see and protect you from bad spirits and angry ghosts. I used to suffer from sleep paralysis and it was worse when I didn’t have cats

I have cats, no sleep paralysis.

Problem solved.

As for the dog- well, they’re there to watch over the home. I always felt vulnerable with no dog in the house.

All of my dogs have been sweet and loyal and smart and  they’ve had big freaking teeth.

Just FYI.

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My Herb Garden

I used to have an herb garden.

I tended it everyday with my cat Wolfgang.

He enjoyed walking through the plants, he loved to chew on the cilantro and mint leaves, so he always smelled like a pizza.

It was OUR herb garden and it was an important part of our home.

And then Wolfie died and most of the garden went wild and I don’t have the heart to make it what it once  was, so I let it be what it is and that’s okay.

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The Ghosts

baby monster

Call them memories or reflections, but my house is full of ghosts.

I’ve lost a lot of friends and family members to death.

I’m not saying they walk my hallways and hide under the bed or stand in shadow choked corners ( it surprises me more that they do not ) but their presence is there.

I can feel it, sometimes I catch a wiff of perfume or a drink and I know they’re there.

Sometimes my cats and my one year old Lab Hamish refuse to sleep where Domino and Cerbie used to sleep. They’ll start to and then they’ll jump up like somebody just poked them with a pin and they’ll tear out of the room,  on other days they’re fine.

But these ‘ghosts’ are part of my home too and it would be less of a home without them.

So those are the things that make my house a home:

Memories, security, stories, people who have been there and have either moved on and some ( both living and dead apparently) come back sometimes for a visit.

My Home.

It is so much more then lumber, wires and stuff.

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You Might As Well Keep Going

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I’ve Become My Parents

Do you ever find yourself doing something your parents used to do when you were a kid, despite the fact you hated it back then?

My Parents did it, my Sister, my brother does it.

When they are committed to an idea or a plan or a feeling they will ride that horse from one end of the universe to the other. They will not turn loose no matter how hard that horse tries to buck them off in the process:  they are solid in what they believe.

They’re not mean about it, they aren’t self-righteous and they will honestly listen to every word you say.

Respectful is the word to sum it up.

And then there is me

dancing

When I’m wrong, I’ll try to course correct, I’ll even try to learn something.

And then I go to the source and ask myself:

” Anita Marie, are you really going to let this jackass take you to school? “

And at that point I take that solid focus my family shares ( yeah, well for the most part) and I will go down fighting not only in flames but with a song in my heart and a smile on my lips.

So, in the end all that’s left for me to do is get through the Hell I’ve found myself in, take a few heads and not back down and as take the walk lonesome walk of the always wrong.

I mean, when you’re obviously going to lose the battle, do you have to loose it all?

I’m at this point now because I have spent years YEARS I SAY in indulging people in their opinions, their world views they’re taste in food for Godsakes.

And in return I have learned to ” eat crow’ from the same people when I am wrong.

How messed up is that?

So I might not be as solid as my family.

But if I’m wrong, I’m going to come out of that one alive, hopefully I’ll have taken a head or two along the way and maybe, must maybe I’ll learn something.

We shall see.