Prompt: Solitude

This past week was spent aboard and waiting for plane connections. There is no more difficult solitude imo as when alone, thinking of home in a strange city. I read this prompt in my hotel room at the end of an exhausting day of convention activities and it turned my perspective around 180 degrees...what timing! I sat back against the pillows with permission to let my thoughts wander. Thus was born MeeKnott.

1. Me not very good artist



2. But me have lots to say




3. Sometimes me get flash visions



4. Mind trumps Brain? Me not know ‘cept brain functions by rules and mind don’t.







5. If ugly men were pretty women, and pretty men ugly women, would the world be any saner? Me not know.








6.

Traveller 's Inspiration

I was much inspired by the pics of the hat modification that Carol posted for potential wearing to the Mad Hatter's Party, and tho I am no artist for sure, I was moved to submit my own permutations that her creativity inspired. Please do not hold her anyway responsible lol!

A Place that is dear to my heart

I have only lived on this shore for the past four months, but it has become the place that is dearest to my heart.

A year ago, I was living far from the sea, in the house that I had shared with my husband for quarter of a century. When he had died suddenly, the home had become a house, a stage set for a play that had ended. My two children were now adults, making their way in the world and I did not know what the future would hold. I had become a prisoner in the walls of this once happy place, suffering from approphobia, panic attacks, a very severe depression and the feeling that my life as well as the life of my husband had ended.

One day, full of sorrow, I decided to "google" the word grief. I found myself in an American chat room where all manner of people gathered to mourn their lost ones and help each other through the dark days. There were women who had lost children, hubands who had lost wives, those who had lost friends to illness or murder.....the room was sometimes difficult but always rewarding and eventually some of the names became friends.

One night a man came online who lived, as I do, in the UK. I had never seen him online before and we barely spoke. When he appeared again a few days later we began to "chat" and it wasn't long before we realised we had a great deal in common, especially as he was also widowed. When I mentioned that I was struggling with aggrophobia and that I had never had this condition before losing my husband he suggested that he could come and visit me, and take me and my son out for a couple of hours just so that I could leave the house. And so began our love story because the man who arrived about two weeks later is the man I will be marrying this summer.

But that is a different story. Suffice it to say that I am now living with him on the western coast of the UK, just north of where my late husband and I had dreamt of living for many years. I walk along the beach every day - it is my daily meditation as I watch my dog Martha run through the waves and play with other dogs, bringing me into daily contact with people who have smiles of welcome on their faces.

I hear the sea breathe regularly, and the beat of my heart echoes its rise and fall. This morning the tide was in and the waves were throwing themselves exuberantly against the sea wall and I felt the joy and peace rise in my mind. There have been dark days as I struggled to adjust to this new life but the daily walk has been healing. One grey day, the sky seemed to mirror the leaden feeling in my heart, but when I looked up there were hundreds of small rainbows falling out of the heavens and I took them as signs of hope. Another day, when snow was falling in flurries across the sands and tears of cold and misery were falling down my cheeks, I turned to look back at the town and it was bathed in sunlight falling through a break in the clouds.

I see ships turning in and out of the port, and am reminded of my late husband who was a merchant seaman, and somehow although I have left what was our home I feel myself more connected with him here.

I am reminded that it is many months since I wrote in my gratitude journal. It is time to begin again. I list my five things without hesitation this time. I am grateful for my love for my new husband-to-be and his for me, I am grateful for the health and love of my two children, I am grateful for my little dog Martha who reminds me daily of how one should enjoy the small things of life and love unconditionally, I am grateful for the chance to live by the sea, a dream of mine for many years, and I am grateful for the chance to begin to write and fulfill the other dream, the dream of a creative life.

My daily walk by the sea is where I medidate, compose poetry, talk to my inner self and listen to the rhythm of the waves as they centre me and work their healing power on my soul. This is where I have, almost miraculously, been restored to myself.

Anatomy of Childhood: Childhood Friends

Exercise: Chocolate Box
http://www.outbackonline.net/choc%20box/choc_pooh.htm

*lifts the shiny gold lid marked "Chocolates" in brown flowing script off the square box on my desk and sets it aside. peering into the box I peruse the delectable contents, ignoring the two empty spots where I'd already partaken of the sweet candy. mentally playing "Eeny Meeny Miney Moe" I circle my index finger over several of them, deciding shortly thereafter to just take a dark chocolate round covered in chocolate sprinkles. biting into the luscious treat I discover a tasty strawberry filling in the middle. smiling happily and closing my eyes its sweet berry aroma fills my senses, reminding of a doll I once owned as a kid and taking me back to a less hectic time, to when I had that doll and many of her equally sweet-smelling friends too*

*Strawberry Shortcake Theme Song(?)
Who sleeps all night in a cake made of strawberries?
Wakes up bright and early in a cake made of strawberries?
Living, riding in a cake made of strawberries,
Strawberry Shortcake, wouldn't you know?
Who sweeps her floors in a cake made of strawberries?
Lays outdoors of a cake made of strawberries,
Games and chores in a cake made of strawberries,
Strawberry Shortcake, wouldn't you know?

As a girl, Strawberry Shortcake--amongst several over loveable characters, namely that bear with very little brain who's all stuffed with fluff named Winne the Pooh--was one of my all-time favorite toys and cartoons. I loved how they got her and her friends, Apple Dumplin', Lemon Meringue, Raspberry Tart and Huckleberry Pie to smell like the very things they were named after. That was one of my favorite things about them. And I loved the cartoon and Strawberry would always "berry" instead of "very."

"Thank you berry, berry much!"

For my 10th birthday Mom made my cake into an air balloon, where she put my Strawberry Shortcake and Huckleberry Pie dolls into the "basket" of the cake as the passengers. It was awesome.

Eventually as I got older my parents sold my dolls at garage or yard sales--without me being aware of it, or if I was, I stupid to not care or protest. Now that she is popular once again, my parents and I are wishing we still had my dolls, for they were the original Strawberry Shortcake dolls. Meaning they're collector's items now. =os But if I had them, I wouldn't sell them.

The new generation of Strawberry Shortcake dolls makes me berry nostalgic for my dolls. In this one instance I wish I could be a kid again, so I could have an excuse to buy the dolls and have "my collection" again...but to be honest I prefer the originals. I think they were much cuter.

********As I said above, Winnie the Pooh was another kid favorite of mine. One of my earliest memories is of listening to a record on which Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day, or something like that was recorded. I'd listen to that record at my grandparents' farm till I plain wore it out. That was one of my berry favorite stories as a young child. I loved Winnie the Pooh; I loved his simpleness, his friendship with the shy, nervous Piglet and Christopher Robin, I loved the juxtaposition of the child-like thinking and the adult/bachelor life he and most of the other characters lead (except for Kanga and Roo) and I loved the music.

Winnie the Pooh and his friends are classic and timeless. I don't know of any generation that hasn't liked or loved his stories and his world in the 100-Acre Wood. I still like to watch the cartoons featuring Winnie and his pals, and I will be encouraging my nephews and any future nieces I have to read the books and to watch the cartoons.

Unlike many of the cartoons today, the ones, like the two I've mentioned above, are worth seeing and have value (in my opinion, of course,) and would help develop better attitudes and standards in today's children. (Care Bears is another one, come to think of it and for one, I'm happy to see their return.)

Winnie the Pooh Theme Song
Deep in the hundred-acre wood
Where Christopher Robin plays,
You will find the enchanted neighborhood
Of Christopher's childhood days.

A donkey named Eeyore is his friend,
And Kanga and little Roo.
There's Rabbit and Piglet and there's Owl
But most of all Winnie the Pooh.

Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh
Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff.
He's Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh.
Willy nilly silly ole bear.

...Willy nilly silly ole bear.

Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh
Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff.
He's Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh.
Willy nilly silly ole bear.

...Willy nilly silly ole bear.

Robert B. Sherman*I tried finding the original lyrics to Strawberry's theme song, but Google's results were berry confusing, so I did the best I could from memory and Google's results.

Anatomy of Childhood: Imagination

Exercise: Chocolate Box
http://www.outbackonline.net/choc%20box/choc_imaginary_friends.htm

i·mag·i·na·tion

1a) The formation of a mental image of something that is neither perceived as real nor present to the senses.
b) The mental image so formed.
c) The ability or tendency to form such images.
2) The ability to confront and deal with reality by using the creative power of the mind; resourcefulness: handled the problems with great imagination.
3) A traditional or widely held belief or opinion.
4) Archaic
a) An unrealistic idea or notion; a fancy.
b) A plan or scheme.

One of the greatest things about being a kid is the flights of fancy you have. No one thinks you're crazy when you pretend to go on an African safari and meet up with ferocious head hunters. In fact, an active imagination is almost always expected of kids. Really, many parents and teachers foster and encourage it in their kids and students. According to psychologists, an active imagination is indicative of the ability to focus and concentrate on one activity and that the child has developed his or her own own ideas and isn't over-reliant on outside stimuli.

The world today wouldn't be what it is now without certain people and their active imaginations or minds. If Alexander Graham Bell, Thomas Edison, the person who invented the computer, or Walt Disney all had been simple-minded and unimaginative, then we wouldn't have, most likely, the telephone, the light bulb or electricity or computers. I wouldn't even be typing (or writing, as there would be no Soul Food Café) this entry. And we certainly wouldn't have Mickey Mouse and the gang or Walt Disney World, not to mention Disneyland. And come to think of it, if the Ancients hadn't been curious about the mysteries of Earth and the Universe and they hadn't used their imaginations in developing theories, we wouldn't have the rich, creative folklore and myths they left behind.

The chocolate I chose today--an egg-sized milk chocolate round topped with a crisscrossed white chocolate pattern--was obviously filled with ideas and activities on imagination. More specifically, its sweet chocolatety center oozed ideas on imaginary friends. Strangely enough, or maybe not, I never had any imaginary friends. But I had--and still have--an active imagination. In fact, I still scare myself silly some nights with what my imagination conjures. (That's what I get from watching scary or intense movies or shows like Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. Hey, they had some pretty weird and frightening monsters on that show...and they weren't the vampires.)

No, I never had invisible friends, but my make believe world never lacked fun or excitement. My favorite thing to do when I was little was to appropriate one of Mom's silk gowns and lie on my grandparents' sofa, pretending to be Snow White. (I was/am an emulator.) I would pretend to eat the poisoned apple then "fall asleep", lying on the sofa in sweet repose with my hands folded across my chest as if I were in a glass coffin, waiting for my prince to come. That was my Snow White phase.

Then when I discovered I loved writing (at the age of eight or nine) my imagination was put to use in creating plays I would have my friends, my cousin, my older stepsister and myself sometimes act out. I also had, as I do now, personal daydreams, where I'm superpopular, where I meet celebrities and enter their elite social circles, where I'm a spy and have a dangerous assignment, and of course, different scenarios where I meet my one true love.

Imagination is a great thing--now where did I leave my purple light saber?

Romancing the Ruins: The Real Mary King's Close

Exercise: Romancing the Ruins
http://www.dailywriting.net/RomancingRuins.htm

Hello there! Back for another update, I see. Come to see what I've chosen for today... What's that? You want another virtual tour? Of another catacomb from the documentary I saw called, Incredible Catacombs? I see, I see...I think I have just the one for you. However, *holds up her index finger in warning* this one isn't for the faint of heart, and it would be a good idea to bring a child's toy or a good-sized sum of money in your wallet. (I'll explain why a little later on.) And of course, as before, if you're claustrophobic it might be a good idea to stay above ground.

Ok folks, today we are headed for Scotland, to Edinburgh. This is one of the places--and one of the sites--I truly want to visit in person one day. (Emma, my English friend, and I have talked briefly and pondered over meeting in Scotland to see some of the sights there before crossing the border and having some fun in her own country.)

The catacombs of The Real Mary King's Close have captured my imagination and given birth to a wistful, yet determined desire for a glimpse of 17th century life and to "meet" some of the people who once lived in the Burgh's closes. They (the catacombs) have an exciting, truly haunting, mysterious and poignant history. I doubt anyone who takes an actual tour of the closes opposite Saint Giles' Cathedral, Royal Mile will be left unaffected by the living history they briefly immerse themselves in. I say "living history" because portions of the houses that line the narrow streets are still pretty much as they were when they were last in use, before the city council in 1753 leveled the upper storeys and built the Royal Exchange (now the City Chambers) over them, using the lower floors as a foundation. And also because some of the people who once called The Real Mary King's Close home...still do.



The Real Mary King's Close consists of four closes, or narrow streets with houses on either side, stretching up to seven storeys high. On the actual tour you will be "guided" by one of four inhabitants who called these streets home.

There's Stephen Boyd, a merchant who owned the southernmost property on the east side of Mary King's Close in 1635. He conducted business from a Luckenbooth at the top of the close, beneath the famous crown of St. Giles.

There's Walter King, whose distinctive uniform marked him as a foulis clenger, employed by the Burgh Council to clean houses affected by the plague.

There's Mary King's youngest daughter herself, Jonet Nimmo. Born in 1622, she lived in fairly affluent surroundings all her life and in the Close since she was seven years old.

There's Agnes Chambers, a maid in the household of prominent merchant burgess, Alexander Cant in 1535. She will tell you about life in the town house on Craig's Close, where things took a dramatic turn.

As your guide, one of these Close residents will

Show you the highs and lows of 16th century townhouse living.

Introduce you to some of the people who lived there in the 17th century.

Take you to the home of a grave-digger's family to discover the truth about how the Burgh Council dealt with the plague epidemic of 1644–1646.

Show you one of the best examples of 17th century housing in Scotland.

Allow you to peek inside the 19th century sawmaker's workshop.

Let you walk in 17th century footsteps along Mary King's Close.

But for the nonce, this is a virtual tour, I mustn't forget. And I'm the one leading it. So, shall we continue? We've yet to meet the most famous resident of the Close. Which reminds me...

Ah good, I see some of you listened to me and have brought toys--teddy bears, dolls, stuffed animals, Barbies and action figures...and cameras. Aaahhhh...I hate to be the bearer of bad news folks, but cameras and video cameras aren't allowed in the catacombs. However, the guide book has plenty of pictures, so if you want you can buy the book. I'd recommend that option.

Why are you bringing toys and money? Good question. They're for a sick little girl named Annie. Hers is a tragic story that has touched thousands of visitors' hearts who've, since 1992, left her toys and have donated more than £2,000 in her honor. But their kindness and largess cannot help Annie. *sad smile* For it is believed the Black Death claimed her young life in the underground streets beneath the City Chambers in the 1600s.

Her presence was first discovered in a small room off the part of the underground alleys beneath the Royal Mile known as Allan's Close by a Japanese psychic who visited Mary King's Close in 1992. She "communicated" with the spirit and found her to be a young girl, heartbroken because she had lost her doll. The story goes that Annie had been locked in the room after she fell sick with the plague. The adults wouldn't let her retrieve or bring her the doll to her themselves.

Touched by the young ghost's tale, the psychic went and bought her a new doll. After placing it in Annie's "room" she sensed the girl was delighted. Since then people have been leaving toys in that room and it's become sort of a shrine. Annie has also been known to playfully tug on women's skirts.

Where do the donations go, you ask? Well, since Annie was a sick young girl herself, it was decided the money should naturally go to Edinburgh's Royal Hospital for Sick Children. The money is going to the TLC campaign, which aims to give the children a small gift when they arrive at the hospital or if they have been through an ordeal, such as an operation.

What was that? Who was Mary King, you want to know. *smiles* A question I myself asked and whose answer I went in search of. She was the widow of well-to-do merchant Thomas Nimmo, who moved to the Close that now bears her name with her four children, Alexander, Euphame, Jonet and William after his death in 1629. She continued, to a lesser degree, his work by selling fabric from her rented forebooth on the Royal Mile.

What we know of her we know from documents and city records, like the 1635 rental, which shows that she rented a "turnpike house with a seller" at the top of the Close and also a "laigh forebooth." Her last will and testament is still extant and therefore, is another source. A section of her home has been recreated with the actual possessions she left to her children--gold rings, silver spoons, gowns, considerable quantities of fabric, ruffs, tin chamber pots, a velvet doublet, a bolster, a wooden settle and many other possessions--and visitors can see all this on the tour. Mary died in September 1644, months before the plague hit Edinburgh, therefore we cannot assume she died from the plague.

The Close had at least five names, long before Mary arrived, and had been called Towis, Livingstoun's, Brown's, King's Close and Alexander King's Close before finally being named Mary King's Close. It was quite unusual for a Close to be named after a woman, and there is no evidence suggesting Mary had been related to any of the other Kings who lived there before her.

If you would like to know more about The Real Mary King's Close, click here.

Anatomy of Childhood: Return To Innocence

Exercise: Chocolate Box
http://www.outbackonline.net/choc%20box/choc_childhood_journal.htm

I'm having a chocolate attack, in more ways than one. While I've been craving the sweet brown shtuff on the physical (hunger) level, I've discovered I have a hankering for it on a literary and artistic level as well. On a whim, I helped myself to the Soul Food Café's Chocolate Box to see if there was anything there to inspire me. Happily, I have found myself a new project.

The chocolates, I found after sampling several, are filled with suggestions and activities for an exploration into the anatomy of childhood. This was/is inspiration, indeed, and I think it'll be fun to explore the different facets of childhood and to walk down Memory Lane with my inner child. It's always good to remember and to keep in touch with that child, for she/he helps us to be more well-rounded as people. For with this child inside each of us, we will never be old, staid or boring.

Though I'm going to enjoy this new project, and I have said on more than one occasion I wish I could go back to when things were more innocent and simple, in all honesty I'm glad I can't be a child again. I have no wish to be. Oh, I have fond memories--and some not so fond--from that time period, but if you remember, it was hard being a kid! And I think, from watching my kid sister who's only 15--going on 5 or 35, depending on how she behaves--it's tougher in today's world to be a kid. There's more violence, more peer pressure with drugs, drinking, smoking, on being a "couple" or "going out" with a member of the opposite sex, with being popular or cool. Not to mention today's fashions and the "In Crowd's" emphasis on being ultra-thin and sexy.

No, I definitely don't want to be a child of today's world. But I do miss when things were more innocent and simple.

I remember a world where good was ultimately stronger than evil, where courage, justice, love and mercy were woven into the fabric of sky and being; where animals talked as they ought to and the spirits of trees danced. I remember a world where I caught the wind easily in my simple, wild [wanderings] and soared on the wind whispers of deep, real magic. I remember a world made of words, words that painted inside my mind when I was very young, the reality of a forever dream.

~Winnie Peterson Cross~
The Chocolate Box project is the perfect remedy for my longing for more innocent and simpler times.

When I think of the word childhood I'm reminded of the phrase, "return to innocence." And of course, this leads me to the song by Enigma:

Return To Innocence
That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence
Love--Devotion
Feeling--Emotion
Love--Devotion
Feeling--Emotion
Don't be afraid to be weak
Don't be too proud to be strong
Just look into your heart, my friend
That will be the return to yourself
The return to innocence
If you want, then start to laugh
If you must, then start to cry
Be yourself, don't hide
Just believe in destiny
Don't care what people say
Just follow your own way
Don't give up and use the chance
To return to innocence
That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence
Don't care what people say
Follow just your own way
Follow just your own way
Don't give up, don't give up
To return, to return to innocence
If you want then laugh
If you must then cry
Be yourself, don't hide
Just believe in destiny

I guess *soft smile* this is the first step in exploring the anatomy of childhood. And logically it makes perfect sense. To see, believe or do anything as a child, one must have a certain amount of innocence.

Return To Innocence

A Prompt for this Week?

Do you, or the characters in your fiction, feel like puppets on a string? Does it feel like someone is pulling ths strings? How can you or your characters be released from the eternal dance on moody Mr ChangeAbout's srings?

Prompt: Romancing the Ruins: Subterranean Cities"

This post alone could inspire many other pieces of writing." ::nods:: It certainly worked for me. I enjoyed very much!
While reading I remembered something I wrote in response to a picture sent to me by a friend of an old deserted cotton mill in Rockingham County, North Carolina. (Photo courtesy of Vordakgef). I entered the picture and found myself standing atop…

I am paralyzed with fear.
The slightest breeze
stills me in mid-breath.

Somewhere in the distance,
faint sounds of thunder,
brief burst of lightning
backlight the approaching storm.

As the rumblings intensify,
and the breeze begins to whip,
awareness returns, knees buckle,
and I embrace the stone.

My fingers seek purchase
amongst the rocks.
The wind begins to howl
sending icy shards to
pierce my flesh.

Lightning bursts,
as a shutter click,
to document the scene.

And now, as the rain-slick stone
releases me from its grasp
I slide slowly into abyss.

Prompt: A Place That is Dear To My Heart.

Somewhere, among the many pages devoured,
this project was described.
I have lost track.
Someone should have warned,
a trail of bread crumbs might have helped!
_________________________________________

It has been 6 months, I am still grieving.
How do you prepare for the unexpected?
The pain unfolding with every news cast.
A glimpse of a familiar corner,
twisted and horribly perceived,
throws me back in time.

How often did I visit New Orleans?
Meetings, conventions, vacations, nine may be ten times all told.
I remember the first, as a mildly curious tourist,
the obligatory cemetery tour, the tomb of the voodoo queens.
A hint of the vapors that ooze from the ground,
the buildings, the hot oppressive, sensual air.

Cafe du Monde? I sat as a spectator and a spectacle for the locals,
sipping coffee with chicory, nibbling square donuts.
I am a Northerner by birth, a 'Yankee' as they say.
Not by marriage, or heritage prepared to be captivated.
Somewhere between Jackson Square and Preservation Hall
I fell in love.

Such an extraordinary, unexpected experience,
to find a place so perfectly matched to one's soul.
Someday, I will write volumes of the tantalizing smells,
the foods, the barbaric rhythms of the jazz bands,
the broadness of the river, and the mystery of the bayous.

But, it has only been 6 months, and I am still grieving.

Comprehensive list of journaling resources:

Writer's Digest 365 days of writing prompts
An excellent resource for daily practice and craft

Diarist.net Prompt-o-rama
The motherlode of prompts, questions, lists, ideas

Journal/Poetry
The National Association for Poetry Therapy
An eclectic worldwide gathering place for those who work with, or simply love, the interface between writing and healing. Kathleen Adams is NAPT President 2001-2003.

LifeJournal
Computer journalkeeping will never be the same with this powerful, user-friendly software modeled after Journal to the Self. Read Kathleen Adams' Top 10 Reasons Why LifeJournal Software is Close to Perfect. Enter Associate Code KA512 when you order your copy of LifeJournal from Chronicle Software.

Cyber Writer
pdf printable files designed for high schoo, students but applicable to all.

Journal for You
A site that instructs, encourages, and inspire young and old to keep journals, with intent to build supportive community to share ideas and tools. Hosted by Certified Instructor Deborah Bouziden.

Journal Magic
This site by Journal Coach and Certified Instructor Sue Meyn offers many interesting and innovative ways to approach your journal.

The Center for Autobiographical Studies with Tristine Rainer
The Center for Autobiographic Studies, directed by The New Diary and Your Life as Story author Tristine Rainer, is a non-profit educational organization dedicated to promoting the knowledge, appreciation, creation and preservation of contemporary autobiographic works.

The Journal Site at About.com with Catherine deCuir
This is perhaps the most comprehensive site on the internet for all things journal-related, hosted by veteran guide Catherine deCuir. Whether you want guidelines for getting started, enough prompts to keep you writing for the next several years, polls, interviews, or tips for specialty journals (e.g. gardening, travel), this is the place.

Writefully Yours, with Eldonna Bouton
Offers resources, motivation, and support to journal writers and creative writers, by Loose Ends author Eldonna Bouton.

Memories and Memoirs
A site dedicated to honoring and preserving memories, and the stories that bring these moments to life.

New Life Stories
Dr. Ellen Moore asks, "What if you invented a new version of your life? Or what if you finally began to listen to the story your soul has been whispering to you all these years?"

Today's Special Is...

EXCERCISE: LUNCH BOX SPY
http://www.dailywriting.net/LunchSpy.htm
DATE COMPLETED
MARCH 1,2006

I used this exercise to work on a character sketch for a Werewolf Story I'm working on. I love any activity that focuses on dialog and this exercise can be used in to do exactly that. Of course you could follow the directions or you could play with it like I did.
So here's my Lunch Box Interview with Al Dente
Werewolf.


Over the lips
passed the tongue
watch out stomach
here it comes.
-Lunch Time Prayer uttered by Students all over the world


Tell me about your lunches.
"They talk too much. ' Don't eat me...eeekkk, help' Stuff like that. Same old same old day after day. Its not exactly stimulating conversation."

What can you tell me about the lunches you eat?
" After awhile they all taste like chicken."


What do you remember about your school lunches?
" Oh, the good old days. Back then I use to love the hunt. Chase 'em down and chow them raw. Now the arthritis is setting in. Plus, there's nothing sadder then a Werewolf with bad eyes trying to catch its lunch. Especially when you trip and your lunch laughs..."

Were there any family jokes about what you liked to eat?

"I went through the alphabet...like all my lunch’s names had to start with the letter " A". After awhile my family started to call me Alphabetti Humanetti. Anyway, the villagers got wise to me and started to number their kids instead of naming them. I almost starved to death"

Who made your lunch?
"Uh...are you kidding? What did you skip biology class? Like you really don't you know where babies come from?"

Were you ever able to buy a lunch?
"This Ogre named Calvin use to sell lunches. He was a nice guy. But the lunches were caged and they tasted funny. Real gamy. They must've been bottom feeders."

What did they stock in the school canteen?
"Most of the time it was Damsels in Distress and Dragon Slaying Knights. By the end of the week they'd stew whatever was left over. It was BORING."

Did you ever slip across the street with your mates to the fish and chip shop?
"Yes, of course we did! And after we ate the cooks and patrons we use to dump the fish back into the Bay."

Did any one in your class have a better lunch than you? What did they have? Were you ever able to swap with them?
"I use to swap Werewolf Hunters for Vampire Hunters with my friend Carl. The Vampire Hunters were my favorite cause they'd try this Kung Fu fighting stuff on me.It was so funny. Sort of like dinner theatre. But the best part were these bow and arrow things some of them carried around. I'd use the arrows for a little something I invented called Hunter Kabobs.
Hunters on a Stick. Gosh I loved those...especially with catsup.


Where did you eat your lunch? Who ate their lunch with you? Did you eat alone?
"Werewolves are social animals you know and we don't like to eat alone. So I eat my friends and family. Oh no wait...I mean I eat WITH my friends and family"

What do you have for lunch now? Do you still own a lunchbox? Do you make your lunch or buy it?
"I skip lunch now and I eat healthier then I use to. I've gone back to my old ways and the Village I live in now has very clean living livestock. And yes I do have a lunchbox. It's that big box behind you with the little gold handles. Very good, it's a coffin. Thank you for noticing."

Who makes the best lunches?
"Those Villagers down the road.... they’re really into physical fitness and they really work on things like running. Wow and let me tell you they can do that darn fast.I mean, no matter how big or small young or old you should see those little legs work!"

Do you eat the same thing every day?
"Of course I do...nature of the beast you know."

Is there a lunch that still haunts you?
"They all do my friend...they all do."

What is the worst lunch you have ever eaten?
"Bob."

What is your favorite place to buy lunch?
"Noses and Toeses On The Pier"

Would you buy from a school canteen?
"Sure I would, especially if they serve Students on Rye."


THE PROBLEM IS THAT THERE ARE TOO MANY STUPID PEOPLE IN THE WORLD AND NO ONE TO EAT THEM- CARLOS MENCIA

Joy of Journaling

Dan Price is constantly meeting people who wish they kept a journal. Although they understand that having a personal log of their experiences would help them feel more in touch with themselves and capable of facing life's challenges, most have a difficult time sticking with their writing. Price, the author of "How to Make a Journal of Your Life," says that the biggest mistake people make is approaching "journaling" as a job and not a joy.


How to Make a Journal of Our Life


"You have to connect with the passion of why you're doing it," he says. "Once you do that, you don't have to worry that you didn't write in it yesterday or all last week." Here, some ways to find the passion to keep on writing your journal:

Don't force it. Remember when you were a kid and you bought a padded diary with a lock to record your important thoughts — and then you did it for about three days and got bored? "A lot of people think they are going to write every day, and feel guilty when they miss a day," says Price. "If you make it a chore, it will never work." In reality, one of the best facets of journal-writing is that you can abandon it. "The thing about a journal is that it's always there when you need it — it doesn't disappear when it's neglected," says one wise Lifetime viewer.

Record the good stuff too! Rose Offner, author of "Journal to the Soul," believes most people tend to write in their journal during difficult, trying times. "When life is moving along and we're happy, we're not thinking about writing. It's only when we go through a challenge that we pick up the pen," she explains. Offner, who hosts journal workshops, says that although hashing through life's problems on paper can be useful, your journal experience won't be satisfying if it's nothing more than a complaint-fest. Writing about the blessings — the great phone conversation you had with your college roommate, the way your five-year-old looks in her Halloween costume — enables you to cultivate a greater understanding of what makes you happy and how you're evolving. "Sometimes people don't realize how well their lives are going," says Offner.

Take note of the world around you. Take the pressure off the journal-writing experience by tossing the idea that your journal must reflect how unique and brilliant you are. "People act as if their journals are going to be published," says Price. "Do what real writers do: Take notes about stuff that may or may not turn into something bigger." Next time you're riding the bus to work, pull out a notepad and describe the scenery you pass. Having lunch at a café? Paint a verbal picture of the other customers — the girl with the orange hair, the elderly man with a pocket watch — and fantasize about their lives. "Journaling is about slowing yourself down and noticing details about your life and environment," says Price.

Go to the heart of the matter. If you think that nothing in your life is worth recording, Offner suggests you start asking yourself some big questions: Where am I going? What do I want? "We have our own sage counsel within. We just have to stop and take a deep breath and begin writing," she says. "Often by the time you get to the last sentence, you have figured out something important about your life." Another trick: Begin each sentence with "The truth is…" Keep writing that until something bubbles up. Offner suggests that articulating your deepest desires brings them one step closer to reality.

Create a gift for yourself (and your offspring). Price's journals don't just contain words; they also hold photographs, sketches, dried flowers and leaves. "It's more like a scrapbook," he says. By incorporating images and artifacts, you can turn your diary into a beautiful keepsake. Price has kept an entire journal about his kids, combining written text, sketches and photographs. "When my kids are 30, they'll be able to go back and see all that," he says. "They'll have a document of their childhood." My aunt is very grateful that she kept a diary in high school and college. "We think we never forget some events, but we actually do," she says. "I love that journaling has helped me hang on to the memories."

by Linda Plaisted