The Montage Episode

Mail + Scooter = Superhero

Today a little love arrived by scooter.

A late birthday present from Rock'n Rebeqa.

It was filled with delicious delights,

but truth be told,

the post-its sold the show.

Like a montage episode,
the notes remind me of our favorite plot lines
and end of season cliff hangars.
In my mind the scenes of our days on the beach
intercut with snowball fights
and long winters by the fire.

It's the perfect look back
on why my sister has and will always have
a staring role in my Drama.

Cute Ghouls and Monsters Galore

Candy and games translate into any language.

My Little Monsters Just Love Halloween.

Even the "grown up" ones can't resist the fun.

Of course the little boys can't get enough of being Monsters.

The girls are especially scary, but they are darn cute.

Warning: candle light classrooms might leading to napping.

Vampire Coin Toss is A Class Favorite

Trick or Treat?

"One's face is equal to or stupider then one's butt" - Strongbad

This year I celebrated a week of Happy Hallow Harry-Boo-Boo,

in honor of officially living with him longer then I've lived without him.

Somehow our circles continue to intertwine.

We've been through murder and high-water together,

so sometimes we hate each other,

sometimes we're sick of each other,

sometimes we can't stand each other's stupid faces.

However, we both know those times will pass,

and that said feelings have little to do with the other person,

and a lot to do with our own personal demons aquired

from a life filled with more then it's fair share of tragedy.

So, instead of putting so much focus on our feelings,

we just love each other despite the crazy,

despite our night terrors,

our anxieties,

our rage,

and despite the worlds that have crumbled around us.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that,

I love Harri-bou's smiley, 

never changing, 

always loyal,  

ever encouraging,

eternally supportive,

blindly devoted,

ever handsome,

stupid face.

BREAKING NEWS

Pigs are flying.

Hell has frozen over.

These are facts.

How do I know this to be true?

Tonight, on the way home, 

after feeling just a little sick all day,

I had the compulsion to run.

So - calling my brains bluff - 

I tightened up my backpack,

tossed my scarify jauntily over my shoulder,

and I ran.

Not only did I run, 

but I ran easily

and for a long distance.

until finally I willed myself to stop.

Not because I was tired 

or physically uncomfortable,

but because the overt and disturbing strangeness of it all.

I don't run for the bus.

I distrust anyone who runs as a hobby. 

In fact,  I consider running to be on of my sister's few faults.

A person like me simple does not,

in any sense or shape,

 just suddenly become a runner.

Especially when they are looking 40 in it's smug little face.

It's just not natural.

So I pondered that maybe I had died,

or possibly there was a glitch in the matrix.

However, I still had a yearning for spaghetti 

so I wrote those options off as unlikely.

Still, the desire to run nipped at my heals.

I wanted to fly along the rice paddies,

like I used to fly across the tundra.

I fought it.

I wandered slowly

in a lazy pattern.

Yet, even as I bounded up my stairs

in anticipation of tonights coverage of arial bacon and a frozen hades,

my mind lingered outside in the cool autumn air.

I just wanted to feel my feet floating across the ground once again.

Pretty (Isn't that enough?)

There's really no story here.

The fall is just beautiful in Sokcho.

That really should be enough.