Jesus?

This is a scrub brush found in a Pet Smart in New Jersey. Now tell me, is that the face of Jesus or ... um... maybe Edgar Allen Poe?

I think it kinda looks a little like General Grant.

How much do you think it will go for on Ebay?

The old Inky story.

Found the old story. Okay, it was written years ago for my daughter. Needless to say--it needs work.
INKY & ME
I have something to tell you that you are never going to believe. But it’s true. As a matter of fact, it's so true, that I’m still, to this day, coughing up hairballs over it. Yes, hairballs. That part is true too. As you will see, when I tell you my story.
My name is Jacqui Taylor and I guess I’m your average fifth grader. I go to Cove Port School in a small town in New Jersey. It’s an okay school. Kind of small, but that’s all right because it just means everyone knows everyone else. I have hazel eyes and blond hair. I think my hair is my best feature. It goes all the way down to my waist and it’s real curly. Everyone I meet comments on it. The only thing I don’t like about it is having to comb it in the morning and the fact that Justin Roberts is always trying to pet it. Like it’s a kind of animal or something. Justin is a little strange. I’m kind of tall for my age. In fact, I’m the tallest kid in my grade. I like that because I get to look down on the other kids. Especially Jolene Harmon. I don’t like Jolene. She is always calling me names like geek face and muggly. She calls me muggly because she says I have an ugly mug. My mom says she probably doesn’t get much attention at home so she does things, like call people names, to get attention in school. I just wish she’d pick someone else to help her with her attention problem. I’m kind of tired of it. I call her fly. You know how pesky flies can be. When she comes near I ask someone to hand me a fly swatter. She hates it when I say that and usually she goes away.
Enough of that stuff, let me get on with my story. It all started one day on the way to school. I was waiting for my best friend, Jennifer Bates, on the corner near her house when I looked down and saw something shining in the grass.
I never should have picked it up. I never should have been so curious, but Jennifer was late and I was bored---so I reached down and pulled the shiny object out of the grass. It was a golden strip with colored jewels set all along its length. There was a little gold buckle at one end and little holes for the buckle to fit in at the other. It sparkled in the early morning sun, beautiful.
Just then Jennifer came running out of her house. “Come on, Jacqui!” she shouted as she ran past me, “We’re gonna be late again!”
I shoved the bracelet into my pocket and ran with her. We had been late twice last week and Mrs. Murdock, our teacher, said if it happened again she was calling our mothers. We raced into the schoolyard just as the last bell rang.
Jennifer and I slid into our desks as quietly as we could while Mrs. Murdock was writing on the blackboard. When she turned I was just pulling out my assignment book and trying to look innocent. For a minute I thought she was going to yell at us again. But she just pursed her lips together in a mean line and she looked from us to the clock on the wall and back again. Grabbing my pen, I flipped open the book and pretended I was trying to see what was behind her on the black board. Mrs. Murdock blew out a hissy breath between her teeth and turned back to the board. Jen and I looked at each other and she made took a hand and wiped it across her brow. We were safe.
At recess Jen and I met on the playground. That was when I stuck my hand into my coat pocket and remembered the bracelet. I pulled it out to show Jennifer and some of the other girls.
“Wow! It’s so sparkly!” Lindsey said taking it from my hand without asking.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” I answered as I reached out to snatch it back.
Lindsey was always taking things off other people’s desks without asking. She took pens, pencils, hair clips, anything. Like the whole world was hers to take at will.
“Are you going to wear it?” Jennifer asked.
“Yeah!” I answered, I hadn’t thought of that yet. I was just glad to have it. Wrapping it around my wrist, I was just buckling it on when Jolene came up to stick her big nose in.
“You’re wearing a cat collar? She asked in her nasty, I’m-better-than-you, voice.
“It’s a bracelet.” I said patiently while I rolled my eyes.
“My aunt’s cat has a collar just like that.” Jolene said smugly.
“Does anybody care about your aunt’s cat, Jolene?” Jennifer snapped. She didn’t like Jolene either.
Jolene glared at Jennifer. “Does anyone care your ugly?”
“Does anyone care you’re stupid?” Jennifer shouted.
“Does anyone care you’re a jerk?” Jolene yelled back at her. Her face was all red now and she crossed her arms over her chest like she was Mrs. Murdock. All she needed was that steel gray hair and slanty glasses.
“Quick! Someone get me a fly swatter!” I yelled and everyone laughed. Everyone, but Jolene that is.
“You think you’re so cool, Jacqui Taylor!” Jolene’s face got even redder as she screamed at me. “But you’re not! You are so mug ugly it hurts my eyes to look at you!”
“So leave!” I screamed back. “No one invited you over here anyway!”
Just then the bell rang and it was time to go back to class. Jolene had me so steaming mad that I forgot all about the bracelet. Mug ugly, mug ugly. Everytime she opened her stupid mouth that’s what came out. It was like it was the only thing that rattled around in that empty head of hers. I was so mad that I almost failed my history test. I decided if I did fail I would tear it up into little spitballs and fling them at Jolene’s hair. After I decided that I felt a little better.
It wasn’t until that night when I went to bed that I remembered the bracelet again. When I got into bed my cat, Inky, climbed up onto my pillow and stretched out. I named her Inky because she is all black, like the darkest ink. She’s big and soft and sleeps next to my pillow every night. She’s my best friend. If cats could talk I’d be in a lot of trouble because I tell her all my secrets.
For a cat, Inky is kind of weird. She lays on her back with all four legs sticking straight up in the air and sleeps like that all the time. People who come into our house and see her always ask if she’s dead. She is always sneaking up to drink my Mom’s coffee when no one is looking and when we set the table for dinner she sits in a chair and waits to be fed. Mom says Inky thinks she’s human.
When she climbed up onto my bed that night I took the bracelet off my wrist and showed it to Inky.
“Isn’t it pretty, Ink?”
Inky purred and rubbed her chin against the bracelet. When I held the gold bracelet against her black fur the jewels in it seemed to glow brighter. It flitted through my mind that Jolene might be right. Maybe it is a cat collar, but I brushed it away. Jolene wasn’t right about anything. Ever.
“Would you like to try it on, Ink?”
She moved onto my lap and rubbed her head against the bracelet again. I took that as a yes and attached the collar around her neck. When it was all buckled on the collar seemed to glow again. Just for a minute, then it looked normal. I blinked my eyes. Did it really glow like that or was I just getting tried? I blinked my eyes again and Inky meowed. She bent her head as if trying to see what was on her neck then she looked at me.
“Come on Inky lets go see how pretty you look.”
I scooped Inky up and took her to the mirror over my dresser. We stared at ourselves. Inky meowed again and then the bracelet started glowing. I mean this time it really glowed. The jewels blazed as if there were fire inside them. The golden band was so bright now it seemed white hot.
“Inky—“
I didn’t have to wonder if I saw it or have to blink it away. I knew what I was seeing. It looked like it was hot, close to bursting into flames. Even Inky was staring at the bracelet in the mirror, her green eyes as big as quarters! I slowly reached up to touch the bracelet. It was warm and seemed to glow brighter when I touched it.
“Oh my God. Inky, what’s happening?”
Then I started to get scared and Inky was starting to squirm and meow. Only it sounded more like “Yeeeoowwie”.
She was scared too. Suddenly, I wanted to get the bracelet off Inky’s neck. I mean, what if it was going to burn her or something? As I took her back over to the bed she fought to get away. I practically had to lay on top of her to undo the buckle. As soon as it was off Inky jumped to the other side of the bed. I tossed the bracelet onto the bed and the glow slowly faded until it was just plain gold again. Then I relaxed a bit. I rubbed Inky’s neck where the bracelet had been.
“Its okay now, Inky.”
With a sniff in the direction of the bracelet, she climbed back onto my pillow and stretched out on her back with her legs in the air.
I looked at the collar again and remembered how it seemed to glow like a hot coals. That was so weird that I suddenly decided that I didn’t want it any more, I didn’t even want to touch it. I took a hanger from my closet and hooked the bracelet with one end of it. I opened the window and let the bracelet fall into the garden below. Once it was out of my room I felt better. I looked at Inky all stretched out on my pillow and decided to join her. Now that the bracelet was out of my room I felt better. It wasn’t so scary. Maybe it was just the light or something, right? That’s all.
I turned out the light and climbed into bed.
“You’re okay, right Inky?” I stroked her belly, then worked my hand up and around her neck. She felt fine, normal. No burn marks or anything. “It wasn’t anything.”
I had the strangest urge to put my feet up in the air but instead I just drifted off to sleep.

Can't write

Inky disappears, probably went to the big cat house in the sky and now I can't write.

I don't believe in writer's block but losing this little cat took the wind out of my sails. Strange how attached we get to these little creatures. How in love. I'm too sad to write. I look at the world's I've created and just can't get going. I think about doing it, open the file, peer at the words and--nothing.

A long time a go I wrote a story/book where my daughter found a magic bracelet and put it on Inky and when she woke up the next day they had switched bodies. I wrote this for my daughter and just for fun. I think about finding this story now and maybe doing something with it.

This is Gizzmo. She's our other cat. A bit of a strange creature. Never too friendly, bites unexpectantly and sounds like a herd of horses when she runs across the floor.

She didn't really get along with Inky. Before Inky disappeared Gizzmo wasn't too cuddly. Inkly was the cuddlebug. Always loving. Gizzmo would let you pet her for a few minutes and tell you she was done with razor sharp teeth.

Since Inky left Gizzmo has changed. She's always on my lap. Follows me from room to room. And she talks to me. Constantly yeowing. I talk back and I believe she thinks we actually have a converstation going.

I think it would have been easier if there was closure. If I knew for sure Inky had passed and was at peace. I believe she did, but I think it would have been easier to accept if I knew for sure.

I need to get my groove back.

Has anyone seen a lost groove?

Inky missing

Inky seemed to be fading fast. Her gait was unsteady, she was losing more weight and her eyes were glassy.
Saturday we sat out on the deck together for a while. She seemed weaker. After a while she got up and went over and laid in the grass. I went in to cook dinner. I looked out at her a few times and she was just laying in the grass. Then I looked out and she was gone.
We can't find her anywhere.
:(
We have a fenced in yard. In her condition I don't think she could have climbed out. We have a very low deck, encased in lattis and surrounded by over grown hosta. I tried to look under it, took a flashlight and looked between the cracks. Reached into all the bushes, checked the shed. I can't find her anywhere. People tell me some animals do this. They go off when its time.
I can't accept this. I have to find her.
:(

Improv Everywhere

It was a dark and stormy night when hundreds of crazy people lined up across the Brooklyn Bridge to create a flash wave. They came in droves, mostly young and adventurous. It was raining, freezing and windy, but the characters at Improv Everywhere didn't mind-- this is what they do.

My two crazy daughters braved the elements to join them. By the time they lined up across the bridge they were soaked, cold and having a blast. One umbrella blew inside out so they stripped off the material and used it as a rain hat.

Check out the video: http://improveverywhere.com/

This is Inky.

This is Inky. She's the sweetest cat in the world. She's very sick. Please send good vibrations to her.

We found Inky in a shopping cart in Pet Smart 14 years ago. Some one brought her in and just left her sitting there under a towel.

She was the best thing we ever picked up and now she need healing energy.

Where do the stories come from?

I found one of my old laptops from about ten years ago. This is some of what was on it and I have to wonder-where did this come from? Where was I going? The only thing I can come up with was that about 100 years ago I used to teach woman's self defense and some of the women there would tell me their stories. When they talked I would feel their pain, fear and then I would feel anger. I could teach them how to fight, get out of certain holds but I couldn't fight for them. I couldn't go into their homes and grab the guy by the neck and...well, you know. Most of these women were bright, smart people who, for some reason, got trapped by something we could never understand unless we walked in their shoes.
Anyway, I don't know where this story came from, but that might have been it. Here's a clip: CHAPTER 1

Nishi set a mug of steaming coffee on the table at Deacon’s place. He liked his coffee strong and black and in its spot before he came down to breakfast. They had been married almost ten years and Nishi knew the rules.
Rules, Deacon explained in his authoritarian way, gave us order and without order the human race was going to hell in a handbasket. Rules were what, Deacon said, separated the respectable people from the animals. Nishi knew all the rules well. Deacon had taught her each and every one with the back of his hand. And even sometimes a closed fist or two if she was a bit slow to take up on his method of instruction.
“Four eggs, scrambled.” Deacon entered the room, tying his tie as he came. “I hope the grapefruit juice is fresh squeezed.”
“Good morning, Deacon.” Nishi took the eggs out of the fridge and took a bowl down from the cupboard to scramble the eggs in. She kept her back turned to him as she whipped the eggs with a fork. She used extra light virgin olive oil to grease the pan and turned the stove on low. One ounce of cold water, added slowly so the eggs were equally hydrated, a dash of salt and into the frying pan.
Yes, she knew all the rules.
A chair scraped across the tile floor as he sat down and a second later he was slurping his coffee. Nishi hated when he did that, slurped as he drank. It was bad manners. She had tried to correct him on it once in the beginning of their relationship but he had corrected her instead. According to Deacon, no self respecting wife corrected her husband. Another rule. Now she just squelched her irritation and did her best to ignore it.
Nishi stirred the eggs in the pan and turned to take the pitcher of grapefruit juice out of the fridge. She carefully poured a glass for Deacon and one for herself. Another of Deacon’s rules. He thought grapefruit juice helped burn fat and his wife wasn’t allowed to gain an ounce. She weighted in once a week, every Saturday morning, with Deacon looking over her shoulder. Nishi would drink his grapefruit juice and sip coffee to wash away the taste. She hated grapefruit juice. She took his to the table.
One lightening quick hand reached out to slap her across the face and Nishi dropped like a rock, hitting the back of her head on the fridge door as she went down and dumping Deacon’s grapefruit juice across the table.
“You didn’t make this juice fresh. You made it last night.” He said calmly.
Shocked from the vicious attack, it took Nishi a minute to recover. “No, Deacon, I didn’t. I squeezed it this morning. I swear.”
Deacon got out of his chair, his only sign of anger was in the dark flash of his black eyes. He took a moment to straighten his tie and smooth back his sleek raven hair before he moved over to where Nishi lay. His voice was hard, “The juicer is clean and sitting over there on the counter and you’ve only been down here a few minutes. Not long enough to make the juice and clean out the juicer.”
Nishi didn’t say anything. Deacon was right. She had snuck down here last night, after Deacon went to bed and made the juice. She was just hoping to get a jump on her morning chores and she was sure he wouldn’t notice. She began to cry. Her face hurt and she was sure he had loosened one of her teeth. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Deacon, I—I’m sorry.”
Deacon lifted the pitcher of juice off the counter and examined the yellow liquid. He brought it to his nose and sniffed.
“Never, ever try to outwit those who are smarter then you, Nishi.” He paused, a sadistic smile curling his thin lips, and slowly dumped the cold grapefruit juice over his wife’s bowed head. He poured every drop out and then gave the pitcher a little shake so as not to miss a drop. “Look what you made me do, you little bitch!”
The acidic juice stung her eyes and blurred her vision. She raised her head as she tried to wipe it away, thinking he was through with her, when Deacon dropped the heavy glass pitcher on her head. It caught her just above the right eye and sent black shards of pain through her already throbbing skull. Nishi cried out and the pitcher hit the floor beside her bare feet and shattered, sending sharp slivers of glass out around her prone body.
“Damn you bitch!” Deacon yelled, leaning over her, his face twisted an ugly shade of scarlet “You got my new pants all sticky! Now I’ll have to go change and probably be late for work.”
Nishi knew enough to try to apologize. She had once tried to keep quiet and curl into a little ball when Deacon started in like this, but her lack of response always fed his anger. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was broken. “I’m so sorry, Deacon.”
For one minute she thought he was going to kick her but then he seemed to reconcider. The juice, Nishi thought, he’s afraid the juice that covered her would dirty his Italian leather loafers.

Later, Nishi would think if she only held her tongue at that point perhaps she never would have killed him. If she had only held on to one tiny shred of decency she might never have found the insanity to do begin her journey, but she didn’t.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do this again. I was only trying to save time. I’m sorry.”

When Deacon left to go back upstairs to change Nishi picked herself up off the floor careful not to step on any of the broken glass. Her tongue probed her teeth, poking against them and feeling them shift. He had knocked her tooth loose. Her tongue sought the rest of the row of teeth on that side of her face. Okay, maybe two loose teeth. She took the dishtowel off the counter and dried her face. As she dabbed the juice off her forehead the towel came away with blood.
“Oh.”
Her voice was soft and sad. No hysteria, no panic. She had seen blood before. Often when Deacon was in a mood he would purposely draw blood. A slap to the face where the teeth would cut into the lip, gripping her hand so tightly her engagement ring would twist and tear into her fingers or a bash to the side of the head, splitting open the delicate cartilage of her ear. Blood didn’t frighten her anymore, but now, something in her brain began to work. The thoughts came swiftly through her mind as if this gash on her forehead had opened a window that was now letting in a tirade of insights she had not had before.
“Oh.” She said to the blood smudged towel in her hands.
Nishi turned toward the sink and looked out the window into the back yard. Spring was here and just yesterday she had planted flowers in the boxes on the deck. Impatiens and Zinnias.
Nishi hated Zinnias. Smelly, sweet little flowers. Deacon’s favorites. If it were up to her she would only plant Impatiens. Beautiful, colorful Impatiens. She would plant them all over the yard. Right now the Impatiens were planted in only one of the six flower boxes on the deck. Smelly Zinnias were in the other five.
Deacon came into the kitchen then and stopped. He looked from his wife to the mess still on the floor.
“Nishi,” his voice held a warning as he slowly crossed the room towards her. “What are you doing standing there when there is so much work to do? Do I have to teach you this rule?”
“Rule.”
The word echoed in her mind.
“Rule.”
What a nasty word. Nasty four letter word. Nishi felt the cut on her forehead tighten as she frowned. Blood on the dish towel.
“NOT ANOTHER RULE!” Her brain screamed. “NO MORE RULES!”
“Nishi….” Deacon’s voice was a hiss now as his anger mounted. “Damn you Nishi! Do you think I like teaching you the rules over and over again? DO YOU?”
Nishi’s gaze dropped from the bright flowers on the deck outside to the sink and there sat a knife. She had used it to slice the grapefruit last night when she made the juice. A light sticky coating of yellow liquid still coated its shiny surface. If Deacon knew she had left this knife in the sink he would have been so upset. How did she forget the knife?
“Everything has its place, Nishi.” Deacon would say, “That is a rule!”
It came from the block that sat beside the stove. It had six steak knives, one cleaver, two slicing knives of different sizes and this one. Oversized, serrated edge and the sharpest one in the block. Deacon hand bought the set in Macy’s for Nishi last Christmas. He said if she had the proper tools perhaps she could cook better. Nishi had been hoping for a new coat but Deacon had convinced her that she needed this more. And Deacon always knew best.
“Nishi!” Deacon’s voice was sharp and cut through her back bone like a razorblade. She flinched.
She could feel him advance toward her, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling in trepidation. She reached for the knife.
“Deacon.” She whispered.
His strong hand suddenly shot out and clasped the back of Nishi’s neck, cruel fingers locking into the delicate hairs at the nape. Nishi yelped in pain as her fingers clutched the edge of the sink so she wouldn’t fall. Deacon shook her by the hair. “You little bitch! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you think this mess will just clean it self up?” He shook her so hard he made her teeth rattle.
Nishi didn’t think, she didn’t comprehend her actions. Everything suddenly seemed on auto pilot. The sun was still outside in her garden, the flowers were still in the boxes on the deck and, except for the grapefruit juice on the floor and the shattered pitcher, her kitchen looked perfectly normal. But this time everything was moving in slow motion.
The smelly Zinnia’s were staring back at her with orange and yellow eyes. There was one fat yellow and black bee floating lazily from flower to flower and all Nishi could think of was how much she hated those smelly flowers.
“If you had half a brain in that stupid little head of yours maybe then my rules wouldn’t be so hard to understand!” He shook her again, making her loose teeth shift and causing her to bite down on her rapidly swelling lip. “This time you’re going to have to be thoroughly punished.”
She just let Deacon turn her to him, lifting her up onto her toes and bringing her face up to his own. The hair at the back of her head screamed as it tore from its roots and in one swift move Nishi brought the knife around and plunged it into his chest. She pushed it though flesh and bone in one hard, crunching thrust with a strength she didn’t know she posessed. Warm blood gushed out over her hand and she felt its warm flow ooze under the sleeve of her robe and down her arm.
“It is the sharpest knife in the block.” Nishi thought numbly, Deacon’s own words echoing in her brain. “The sharpest knife in the block.”
Deacon’s eyes bulged and he looked down at the knife. His grip on her hair loosened and his sharp intake of breath sounded wet and throaty. As he exhaled again bubbles of blood formed on his lips. Without knowing what she was doing, whether out of anger or panic, Nishi twisted the knife slightly to the right and pulled it up. Deacon’s eyes rolled back and a strangled groan came out of his throat followed by a gush of blood. It soaked the front of his perfectly white shirt and designer tie and spattered down the front of Nishi’s robe. Then Deacon’s knees gave out and Nishi let go of the knife as he crumbled to floor.
Nishi watched as if her mind was disconnected from her body. She felt as if she was floating above it all, observing from another demenion the play acting out in her little blue and white kitchen. Deacon’s body twitched once, twice then the blood pumping from his chest slowed and finally stopped. As that last trickle of blood oozed out of her husband Nishi breathed a deep sigh of relief. She stood over him for the longest time, Deacon’s blood dripped from her fingers and stained the beige tiled floor, and did nothing. She just stared at her husband noting the patterns the blood had made on his Armani tie, the last bubbles of his breath popping open and drying on his lips and the sharpest knife in the house sticking out of his chest, crimson against that perfect white shirt.