Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Cinderella. Meet Richard. We call him Dick for short.

Sex in the Woods

by Crystal Laramore


Cinderella. Meet Richard. We call him Dick for short.

Unfortunately for me it’s been a rainy week. Unfortunate b/c I think about him. And the other night while it was raining and I was watching mindless television and reading bitch books and drunk and divorced books, I glanced at the television. In the upper right hand corner was the weather report for Colorado. Severe Thunderstorm Warning!!!! Are you kidding me God? Why am I gPostingetting Colorado’s weather report? I have NEVER seen Colorado’s weather report on my local stations. Was God just trying tickle his funny bone, yet again, at my expense, by letting me know it was storming where he is too? NOT funny God. Seriously, NOT funny. Just then Tim Heller, our weatherman, said something about San Jacinto County and Colorado County. Really? I didn’t even know there WAS a Colorado County near me. Sorry God. My bad.

Meanwhile back on the boob tube…Brittany Spears was doing a very sexy dance with a silver, metal chair. Now, Brittany Spears had a catastrophic meltdown of ginormous proportions and look at her now! Its ok it won’t be difficult. She’s hot! Brittany obviously poured herself into, well herself! Her attitude isn’t the only thing that got a work out. Her body and her career are back on top. While I was watching her new video I wondered why I chose Big Ass Shiraz over intense hour and a half workouts with a hot Latin trainer: look out Bally’s Fitness Center, here I come! At least I haven’t shaved my head. Hell, I barely shave my legs!

Drinking isn’t the only therapy getting me through the nights. Writing has always helped me cope. And, I’ve been so busy drinking and writing I haven’t been able to workout. That’s my story and…

The next bit of comedic relief on the boob tube came in the form of a retail commercial. Jane Seymour was peddling her new jewelry collection, which only reminded me that Christmas is around the corner, then New Year’s Eve, then Valentine’s Day. Will I spend the holidays with him or without him? And speaking of the New Year, his birthday card to me said “I pray that I can be counted as one of your blessings in 2008…” Well Scooter, I guess that all depends what your definition of blessing is. Is it the same as curse, betrayal? Oh Jane-shut up…“It’s the Open Hearts Collection @ Kay Jewelers, b/c your heart has to be open to receive love”. Now Jane, that is simply NOT true. MY heart is OPEN and how’s that working out for me? What now Jane? Got a piece of jewelry for a jagged heart? Maybe with a black onyx in the center?

Because black symbolizes empty, right? And I’m realizing the words were just empty promises. Now, the waiting is turning into completely letting go (me letting go)…all the way; he’s crossing the invisible line. The silence chips away at my belief in his sincerity and my trust in his integrity; words not matching up with action and all. Love is a verb y'all. And, when the respect goes, it all goes. Just a little nugget of insight for ya…

Speaking of nuggets and gems, one night Richard sent me a txt message “Sweet dreams. I’ll be the one on the white horse sweeping you away”. My girlfriend sent me a text message the other day saying, “I think you should just wait around on him, maybe he’ll show up on a white steed and sweep you off your feet; like Cinderella. Or was that Snow White? I get the fairy tales confused”.

I concur. I’m getting it all confused too. I think I have a new fairy tale…pre-historic man gets confused between sweeping the damsel off her feet and galloping to the meadow to make wild passionate love to her OR stabbing her in the heart with a serrated edged hunting knife. True love vs. Make Believe. Make believe – 1. True love – 0. But at least I’m not bitter.

Oh now, it’s not as bad as I make it sound (it’s worse, not really. Yes it is. Who can tell anymore?) but it does make for good writing. We’re tying to give David E. Kelley a new sitcom since Boston Legal is in its last season. David will be bored and needs a new project. We’re also trying to find a place in one of the articles for Toby Keith’s song “How do you like me now?”

Monday, December 15, 2008

Richard. Meet Xena.

Sex in the Woods

By Crystal Laramore


Richard. Meet Xena.


Somewhere in the middle of desperately watching Housewives and reading the bitch books, Grey’s Anatomy showed me the light at the end of the tunnel. The token blonde chick on the surgery floor was having visions that her ex love was always next to her; talking to her in his deep, sexy voice. Yes, every girl’s dream, except when the reason he’s your ex love is because he’s dead! Then, the experience is more likened to a nightmare instead of a dream.

Anyway, Izzy, the blonde surgeon, had a patient who needed a heart transplant. Mr. Patient was an American Indian and had a lot of wisdom-filled advice for poor, poor Izzy. He said, in his tribe, when a loved one died the family gathered all of their things and gave them to the medicine man to burn. That way the spirit could be freed and the tribe would not have to live with the ghost of the dead.

So, being the brain-surgery-kinda-smart girl she is, she decided to burn the dead, ex-boyfriends sweater she had been holding on to, and sleeping with, and smelling and…(In the spirit of relating everything to songs - Burn, baby burn.) Anyhooo, after sharing this revelation with my staff and noticing their “deer caught in the headlights” look, it occurred to me “Maybe I shouldn’t be sharing so much. Maybe some of my deepest, darkest thoughts shouldn’t be shared with people who aren’t forced, by hundreds of years of bloodline, to love me unconditionally”. Ya think?

My staff now enters the building every evening with great trepidation, fearing they will find the 8-burner outdoor grill ablaze with various Richard of my Past artifacts; me draped in loin cloth (from the skinned wild kitties under the deck) with black charcoal smudges under my eyes, wielding a serrated-edge hunting knife and a wild-far-away, Xena the Warrior Princess-like crazed look in my eyes. “Boss! Put DOWN the knife and step AWAY from the fire”.

Anyway, about that box full of his stuff that is taking up space in my office, maybe I should just burn it all. Secretly, of course. It can’t stay in my office. The box is big, the office is small and that makes the box seem like a large Elk in a small meadow, begging to die, by fire, on a grill…

Anyway, I do have to kick the ghostly box out of my way often. However, that actually feels good. After all, it’s not him I want to kick, I love him; it’s the situation I want to kick. I just want to kick something! I can’t kick my customers. The box will suffice, for now…

And the feeling to kick something, anything, comes at random. There are land mines all about the place. Yesterday I found dried pasta in pretty little bags that he sent me months and months ago. It was for our first date. Since we live a thousand miles apart and a first date requires food, and he is an idea man, he sent me a basket of food. While cleaning up the kitchen, I lifted the lid on the slow cooker, how appropriate, and there was the land mine. It came complete with a miniature breakdown during the dinner rush. Yippee.

Another land mine came in the form of a young, handsome country and western singer. He showed up here and wanted to audition. He’d heard about the place through his boss at the hospital. Being the hater of C&W music I am and being that I haven’t had a high tolerance of things (more things) that don’t make me happy I was NOT inclined to sit through an agonizing audition of a music genre famous for heartbreak songs.

But Hank Williams, Sr. channeled himself through me at that very moment and said yes to Mr. James Antley. There was a large group of school administrators sitting at table 8. Jennifer was celebrating her birthday so it was sorta perfect, in a weird, twisted, God is wielding his funny bone again, kind of way. Until the lyrics of his first song choice became clear to my untrained C&W ear “It’s a modern day romance with an old fashioned pain”. Purrrrrfeeeeeect. Isn’t this the part of the non-fairy tale where God does a preemptive strike and channels himself and sings a song like “Jose Cuervo is a friend of mine” or “Tequila makes my clothes fall off”? But, it was Jennifer’s birthday, never mind my unmitigated sad state of affairs. And, the birthday girl and her chipper little group just looooved the song. They clapped soooo enthusiastically that I swear the brick floor moved; “I feel the earth-move-under my feet”. Then, they suggested he move to the next round. He’s now a regular weekend attraction at Crystal’s House of P&S (Pain & Suffering). Good looks, great voice, sad songs and all!