Just three words....................

Instant attitude modification
The small increased
In value, at least...

Crying harder
Laughing louder
Loving completely
Singing, often.

In a Different World, I loved You, Scene 3

Scene Three: The set from scene one is now in full view with space left downstage for actors to stand. Luis has stayed on stage during the scene change. Pedro enters the cell with Luis and sits. There is no music or sound of any kind for 60 seconds after they sit down. They just stare at each other.

Luis: Where is she?

Pedro: Shouldn't I be the one asking the questions?

Luis: No, asshole, I'm the one asking you a question. Where is she? (begins rocking)

Pedro: My name is Pedro B_________. Call me Pedro if you like.

Luis: Two plus two is four. That's what God is for.

Pedro: May I call you Luis? Or, do you prefer Mr. Vi?

Luis: I go by many names. One is just as good as another.

Pedro: What do your friends call you?

Luis: (Stops rocking) You are not my friend.

Pedro: No, I suppose I'm not.

Luis: Why isn't she here yet? I'm not talking without my lawyer present.

Pedro: That's fine. Angela is running late. Nothing to be concerned about. (Pause) I can help you. Nothing you tell me will harm your case.

Luis: Nothing I tell you will harm my case? That's just wonderful! I'm not going to tell you anything.

Pedro: How old are you?

Luis: Older than my years.

Pedro: Where were you born?

Luis: I was very young. (laugh) I don't remember. (laugh)

Pedro: Mothers name?

Luis: Stupid question.

Pedro: Standard question.

Luis: She's dead.

Pedro stands as Angela enters the room. At exactly the time she enters a solo pianist is heard playing quietly in the background.

Angela: Sorry I'm late. (Shakes hands with Pedro and sits across the table from Luis)

Luis: What are you doing?

Angela: (without looking up) I have some paperwork here for Pedro to sign and a list of questions for you. Why?

Luis: Why? I asked you what you were doing and you answer me with questions. (laughs) You Are Late. (laughs)

Pedro: I was just beginning to ask Luis some of the background questions we discussed on the phone.

Luis: Are you two in love.

Angela: We are business associates. Now, we have a lot of ground to cover in very little time.

Luis: Would you like me to tell you a story?
Pedro: What kind of story Luis?

Luis: I think you'll like this one Quack. Very short and to the point. Let's say it will let you get to know me better.

Pedro: What's the story about?

Luis: A little boy and the end of the world.

Angela: What's the boys' name?

Luis: The details aren't important. Just listen. You can close your eyes if you want. (laugh) Once Upon A Time. In a land not so far away there lived a little boy with his loving family. (Luis walks downstage while Brother and Mother enter from opposite sides of the stage)

Mother: What is wrong with him?

Brother: (walks to and hugs Mother) Nothing to worry about. He'll be fine. Just fine.

Mother: Fine? He's bleeding. He's just a little boy.

Brother: He is fifteen. He was late.

Mother: Where is Pablo?

Brother: They were late.

Mother: Pablo?

Brother: We sent him to playa game with the other boys.

Mother: Luis, are you OK?

Brother: He is fine, we played a game, he was late.

Mother: That's no reason to . . .

Brother: To what mother? To punish him?

Mother: Punish? No, that is not punishment. (pointing to Luis who is sitting on the floor rocking)

Brother: He'll be fine. And, he'll remember to be on time from now on. Won't you little brother? (Luis nods) If you're late someone has to pay the price. Simple as that.

Mother: Look! There's too much blood. These need stitches, do some of these need stitches? (Sits down with Luis and begins to rock him like a small child)

Brother: You baby him too much. He'll be fine.

Luis: Brother's games hurt.

Mother: Sssssshhhhhhh. Mother is here now.

Luis: Mother's not always here.

Mother: Mother has to work.

Brother: That's right, Mother isn't always here.

Luis: Well maybe that wasn't the end of the world, not really. (Stands as Mother and Brother exit) I was never late after that. I learned my lesson. brother should have learned his lesson too. The end of the game. That's another story. Game, set and match, no more game. When Mother found out, well, she didn't know what to do. But, as I've aid, that is another story. (Sits in his chair) So, what shall we talk about?

Pedro: How did your mother die?

Luis: Killed her self.

Pedro: Brother, where is he now?

Luis: Stupid question.

Pedro: What do you do for a living Luis?

Luis: I'm an actor. (Music stops) Going to be famous one day, a household name.

Fast blackout for scene end.

Notes to the Teacher....

Below was a bit of "extra work" that I assigned to the Eldest this weekend!

Dear Mr. Algebra Teacher

I apologize for texting during class, it was rude and disrespectful, I now realize how stupid it was to text in the front row. I will not do it again. You had to take time out of your class to get onto me, and that should have not happened.

I accept any and all punishments that i get. I should have been paying attention to the class rather than texting and not paying attention. I promise not to text during your class time again, and I once again apolagize for taking time out of your class.

The Eldest

My own personal addition to the note.

Mr. Algebra Teacher,

Please send me an email, to confirm receipt of this letter.
Thanks,
Michelle
Mother of Eldest

Yep, made him take it to class today. His father even took his phone away for a week. Someday they will understand that WHATEVER they do between the two of us, the parents, we have done it, more than once. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, little education, and low paying job to show for it!

I have amazing children, they never fail to amuse me!

In a Different World, I loved You

Scene Two: The set from scene one is still seen by the audience (possibly pushed upstage) When lights come up we hear traffic, children playing and quietly a saxophone plays in the background. Offstage we hear Maria.

Maria: Get your news here! Hot off the presses! Paper sir? You look like a smart man in need of some daily news. News here! You boys finish delivering the rest of these. Be careful, cars never know to watch for little boys. Get your news here! Hot off the presses! (The sound of children playing increases and the stops suddenly)

Maria enters wearing a ragged dress and no shoes. Walks to center stage and stops.

Maria: Oh, sweet mother of God. (crosses herself) No, this can't be happening! Please make it not so. Oh, no, please no! (walks to side of stage) No, please Lord, make this not what I see. (pointing offstage) Make this a dream. (Kneels and begins silent prayers while rocking. Police blue lights are seen offstage. Gomez and Alfonzo enter)

Gomez: Is that her?

Alfonzo: We think she found them. A foot patrol noticed her exactly as she sits now.
Only pointing at the ravine. Screams if you try talking to her. Sorta feel for the woman. Got the shrink on his way.

Gomez: No witnesses? (stares offstage) How many?

Alfonzo: (moving Gomez away from Maria) Too early to tell. Fifteen at last count. They just finished with the photos. You can see fifteen, that may be just what's on top.

Upstage slowly Luis is escorted into the room from scene one. He sits and begins to watch the men already on stage. Music stops.

Gomez: I want everyone questioned. Especially the street people, vendors, bums, churches, schools, everyone. There's no way this could have gone unnoticed, no way. Shit! (Pause) What else?

Alfonzo: Coroner says it didn't happen in one day. The decay isn't consistent. Some have been here a long time, others, well.

Gomez: All children?

Alfonzo: Looks like it.

Maria: (whisper) Two plus three is five. No one gets out alive. (repeats this throughout the rest of the scene, even as she walks off stage. Saxophone begins playing again, quietly.)

Alfonzo: (Staring at Maria) She mumbles. Been doing it all night. Says God a lot. I think she's praying.

Gomez: Say one for us then, say one for us.

Pedro enters and walks directly to where Gomez and Alfonzo are standing. Pedro is dressed in a tuxedo.

Pedro: (Shaking hands with both men.) Gentlemen.

Gomez: Hope we didn't spoil your plans for the evening.

Pedro: Comes with the job. What do you know about the woman.

Gomez: Not much to tell. We think she found the bodies, refuses to talk to us, screams and prays most of the time. No name, no ID, nothing.

Pedro: If I'm not mistaken her name is Maria, peddles news papers on Loco. I think she has a regular route as well. Brings her boys to the clinic, I've seen them there.

Gomez: You wouldn't happen to know her last name?

Pedro: No, sorry.

Gomez: See what you can do for her. We'll talk later.

Pedro: You'll have a report from me in the morning. (Pedro walks over to Maria, holds his hand out and helps her stand. Then they walk off stage together.)

Alfonzo: Have the patrol check the grocery on Loco, they're bound to know who she is, it's a start.

Gomez: Do you remember that case in Armenia last year where they found young boys mutilated by some kind of cult?

Alfonzo: Satanic ritual killings, that's what they called it. Ring leader is doing multiple life sentences, tried to plea insanity, jury didn't buy it. Three others convicted along with him. You thinking Cult?

Maria: (from off stage) Get your news here! Hot off the presses! Seventeen bodies found in Ravine! All young boys between the ages of eight and eighteen! Do police have any clues? Who do they suspect? Find out in today's edition! Killer Cults run ramped in Pereira! Get your news here! Hot off the presses! My babies!

Gomez: Can't see one person doing all this.

Scene ends with saxophone playing.

Time

When I have more time...

The bedroom will be painted
Bathroom as well
Reading list completed
Dust bunnies blown to hell

3 days off...

Three movies
one, twice
Singing the blues
Quiet as mice

In a Different World, I loved You

Scene One: The sound of a boy's choir should be the first thing the audience senses as the play begins. This music will slowly get louder until it becomes distorted to the point that is no longer resembles music. When the lights come up Luis is sitting on a chair in a sparsely furnished room with no windows. This set should be placed on wheels so that the room can be pushed up stage while other action is happening down stage. We see him fidget and pace for a few seconds before Angela enters.

Angela: Good morning. My name is Angela Gonzalez (holds her hand out for Luis to shake) I'm your court appointed attorney. (pause) And you are Luis Vi? (Luis stares at her) Are they feeding you well enough? Is there anything I can get for you? (pause) Do you know why you're here?

Luis: Do you know why I'm here? Do I know why I'm here? (Rocking back and forth as if holding a small child) Are they feeding you well enough? (Smacks his forehead) Well enough?

Angela: (She mimes as if talking to a small child) I'm here to help you.

Luis: Don't patronize me. (stops rocking)

Angela: I'm sorry. (pause) How old are you Mr. Vi? May I call you Luis?

Luis: Will you stop with the questions? (Begins to rock again) Questions, questions, questions.

Angela: I'll make a deal with you. Answer one question for me and I'll ask no more today. Simple enough. Do you agree? (Luis nods his head) Do you know why you're here?

Luis: Do I know why I'm here?

Angela: Well, do you?

Luis: I'm frightened. (pause) When I get frightened people get hurt. Two plus two is four, that's what God is for. I know that one. Do you remember that one? (Laughs) My turn to ask the questions. (laughs)

Angela: Do you know why you're here?

Luis: Two plus two is four, that's what God is for. I can never remember the rest. Tell me how it ends.

Angela: How it ends?

Luis: What comes next? After God? I can't remember.

Angela: Do you know why you are here?

Luis: Yes.

Angela: Will you tell me? Why are you here?

Luis: Because men with hats and guns and those, what do you call them? Those black stick looking things, they hang on their belts. I don't know how, but they do, they hang there until someone needs a good bashing. That's what they call it "A good bashing."

Angela: A billy club?

Luis: Yes, a billy club. You win the prize! I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you. Limited funds and all. (Pause) O.K., so, they brought me in here. Lovely room, don't you think? Well, it may not be up to your standards but, compared to the rest of this hotel, this room is lovely, simple and lovely. Like you.

Angela: Not this room, this is a jail. Do you know why you're in jail? (packing up the contents of her briefcase) I'm not a therapist. (Luis begins rocking and humming again) I don't think I can help you. You need a psychiatrist not a lawyer.

Luis: Lawyers get psychiatrists.

Angela: (Stops packing and stares at Luis) I sent one. You refused to talk to him.

Luis: I like talking to you. Your psychiatrist is a quack.

Angela: Quack?

Luis: I like talking to you.

Angela: That is not the point. I am a lawyer not a psychiatrist. (Stares at Luis) You do know. Don't you? Why you're in jail.

Luis: Yes.

Angela: Tell me about it.

Luis: You're not a therapist.

Angela: No, I think we agree on that much, I'm not a therapist. (pause) I am, however, your lawyer and if I'm to come up with a defense for you I need to know what happened.

Luis: What are the charges?

Angela: You know what the charges are. (pause as they stare at each other) Why am I wasting my time?

Luis: You have something better to do?

Angela: I'm not sure. I mean, I do have other things to do. Will you talk to the psychiatrist if I send him back here?

Luis: Questions, questions. I suppose that is what lawyers are for. Yes, I will speak with your quack. Under one condition.

Angela: You still don't get it! This is not a game.

Luis: Oh, but it is a game. All of this. Just one big game. Just ask the Quack, Pedro, was that his name? Pedro the Quack. This is, we are, simply something to have fun with, something to make you laugh. Life, life is just a game. The more you enjoy it the more you do it, the more you do it the better your score. Are you ready for my condition? (Angela nods) You will be here. That's all. You will sit right here next to me while I talk to that man. Do we have a deal?

Angela: Deal. Now will you answer my question?

Luis: Question? Two plus two is four.

Angela: Why are you in jail.

Luis: Because, as your psychiatrist will inform you, I am insane. Nutty as a fruitcake. Nothing more, nothing less.

Angela: What happened?

Luis: You'll know. Soon enough, you'll know. Will you still love me?

Angela: Love has nothing to do with it. Listen, you are my client. (Pause) Nothing more, nothing less. (stands)

Luis: Good girl. You're learning. When will I see you again?

Angela: With the psychiatrist. Soon. Good day Mr. Vi. (exits)

Luis: Wrong again, my lovely friend, wrong again.

Black Out. The Boy's choir is heard again. This time with no distortion and so quiet the audience will almost have to strain to hear it.

A bit of Browning to brighten the mind a bit...

Never the Time and the Place

by Robert Browning
(1812-1889)

---

Never the time and the place
And the loved one all together!
This path--how soft to pace!
This May -- what magic weather!
Where is the loved one's face?
In a dream that loved one's face meets mine,
But the house is narrow, the place is bleak
Where, outside, rain and wind combine
With a furtive ear, if I strive to speak,
With a hostile eye at my flushing cheek,
With a malice that marks each word, each sign!
O enemy sly and serpentine,
Uncoil thee from the waking man!
Do I hold the Past
Thus firm and fast
Yet doubt if the Future hold I can?
This path so soft to pace shall lead
Thro' the magic of May to herself indeed!
Or narrow if needs the house must be,
Outside are the storms and strangers: we
Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she, --
I and she!

This has always been one of my very favorite poems, I would like to make a story either based upon or using these words, in this order, as a focus.

I shared this poem with a friend (one who had recently learned English as a second language) once, he asked me to explain it. "Don't you see"? I ask...

Why a rain and snow filled day put me in the mind of Mr. Browning? I can not say, perhaps it just is.

I answered all the questions honestly...

What type of partier are you? Your Result: The Socialite You like only the best liquors, the latest trendy martini's, or the finest single-malt scotch. You are not one for the 'dive bar', you prefer classy lounges filled with model-quality people. When intoxicated, you flirt, but are coy and unattainable, you make your suitors WORK for it.
The Lurker
Hardcore drunk
The designated driver
Bar Social Butterfly
Bar Slut
The rock-star party animal
What type of partier are you? Make Your Own Quiz

These things have no idea!

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

The view from my office window!

It may not seem like much to those of you in the northern part of the world, but this little bit of white magic has had me singing for the last hour now!

It has been years since the small town Georgia in which I currently reside has seen any of the white stuff & and we are terribly excited. Not much work being done in this office at the moment....we are all in quiet reflection............perhaps I will make some inquiries as to what is being reflected upon!

Thought of the day . . .

Of course, it is very important to be sober when you take an exam. Many worthwhile careers in the street- cleansing, fruit-picking and subway-guitar-playing industries have been founded on a lack of understanding of this simple fact.

Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures

Inspired by stuff!

Spelling words belong in the dishwasher

So, I was in the car with the youngest on Friday night on our way back from LaGrange, there we watched the eldest wrestle (what an amazing sport - I have much admiration for anyone who is involved in wrestling - not that crap on the television though). We were talking about education. I am doing the foot work to get the youngest into the local private school & praying for a scholarship, he had about 10,000 questions. It was a really nice, comfortable conversation, those are the best.

We ended up on the topic of "Spelling Words", we both hate spelling words.

Out of his mouth comes this statement: "I just suck at spelling."

What do I say? "Yes, son, you do suck at spelling??????????? No, no can't say that....think........think........think "Don't worry, this will be the last year for spelling." NO, then he will think that spelling is unimportant! MORE think, think, think: "Do you know why that is?" MUCH BETTER! The perfect "therapist" answer.

"No, I just do." UNCOOPERATIVE PATIENT!

Then I remembered back to a book I once read that has helped me a great deal, actually it was a series of books.

"It is just memorization, really not that hard, and you are a really smart kid (butter him up) why don't we try an experiment?"

"What" STILL UNCOOPERATIVE!

"First, you have to stop saying that you suck at spelling, or anything else derogative in reference to your spelling ability."

"Why, its true?" My psychology 101, ten years ago, is about to leave me hanging...

"Just promise to try and I will teach you a little secret about how to remember things." Manipulation 101 still with me!

"OK, I can try." PERFECTION!

We talked for a long time about the mind and different memorization tricks that the teachers are trying to get him to do, writing the words, sentence writing, word search etc... and how these things are designed to work. We decided that it didn't matter why they did not work for him, they just did not work.

Then I told him to decide what building he would like to build his mind into. At this point he thinks I am crazy yet still participates. We decided that, as a start, his mind would look exactly like our house. Then we picked rooms for every topic in school and a few things that he/we just like to learn about. Then HE decided that his spelling words would belong in the dishwasher...I didn't ask. I had him visualize placing the letters of a few words, individually and as a whole into a specific spot of the dishwasher. It seemed to work. Now he can close his eyes and visualize those words, spelling them to perfection every time.

Oh, the series of books........................Written by Thomas Harris, Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal & Hannibal Rising.....please don't tell the Youngest!

1/10/08 UPDATE: Spelling test tomorrow....................I still hate spelling words!

Same conversation, different point:

The Youngest wanted to know why I do not subscribe to the "virtual campus" that is offered at all county schools. My answer was simple: You should be the one to tell me how you are doing in school. I regularly email & receive communication from a great deal of your teachers as far as projects and behavior in class. I don't need to spy on your grades.

This is not to say that I don't think these ideas are wonderful, especially for students who are having a hard time academically. It can be a wonderful tool for students and parents to catch a problem and remedy the situation promptly. --thus ends my disclaimer!

Academics has not YET been a problem with the youngest. HERE IS THE POINT: I want to keep the lines of communication open with the youngest and teach him responsibility at the same time. It is his responsibility to inform me of how he is doing in school, if he needs help he knows how to ask, if he does well he knows that I will be there with many congratulatory statements. How can I expect him to be responsible for the work if I do not respect that responsibility enough to allow him the opportunity to stand up and say "I did ________", or "I need ______"? I do not punish for poor achievement! I will, however, punish if I am blindsided with poor grades, not because the grades were less than desired but because he did not live up to his end of the bargain and ask for help. The youngest tends to blossom when given responsibilities, goals and deadlines. I need to give him that space.

I have to share this - SMACK!!!

oh my god, I just have to share this with you!
I took a TIGER that was soooooo big and TIGERED out sooooo fast that it created a partial TIGER in my lower TIGER. Then the TIGER quickly snaked up through my small TIGER into my TIGER. I even heard the whirlpool that TIGER created as what was left of the big glass of water TIGER drank spun through my TIGER. I heard it, I tell ya! You know how the TIGER sounds as water finishes draining? Like that, only TIGERier. I went from fine to TIGER TURD in about 5 seconds.
Sheesh! I feel better now. What a TIGER... off my mind

Thanks for listening

running away before Michelle smacks me in the head

.... Yeah, until a fucking TIGER EATS YOU!...

Still no words

To express the pain
Rationalize attitude
Must run and hide

I am going to cook something yummy......if that does not work we are all in big trouble!

Pictures...No words...

Click on the pretty pictures, they get bigger!

Central-Mid-Levels escalators

Hong Kong Dou Dou is tired after the climb...
This escalator was one of the things on our "must do" list for Hong Kong. Please do not, under any circumstances, think, for a single second, that this is a continuous moving piece that travels more than 800 meters straight up hill!!! This bad boy has several landings, and a turn or two, that must be traversed in order to reach the top. But WHAT A RIDE!

I can still close my eyes and drift back to that evening, every time I do...I become hungry. Seriously, this was the most pleasantly fragrant walk that I have ever been on, in my life.

So get to the top, take your time, categorize each aroma individually (some of these nasal sensations are not so pleasant - you have been warned) attempt to distinguish each type eatery, make a mental list of those establishments in which you would like to dine. Once arriving at that point in which there are no more magically moving stairs you must choose a place to sit and enjoy an adult beverage while dining.

As you find yourself drifting back down the stairs, oh, by the way.....you have to walk - the escalator only travels one way, down in the mornings & up in the evenings. You may change your mind a time or twenty as to where the "perfect meal" is to be had.

I have one word for you..................sushi.

Wisdom Path - Heart Sutra

Below I have listed some information about what the Wisdom Path is and suddenly realized that no amount of research, study or information could convey to you, all four of my perfect and amazing readers, the beauty, majesty and serenity felt and finally internalized/believed just being there.

The Wisdom Path is an outdoor display of the Heart Sutra carved on 38 tall, very tall, pieces of wood arranged in the shape of a figure eight - infinity. One of the wooden columns is left blank, without carvings, to represent the emptiness theme central to the Heart Sutra.

Here is my Favorite translation, thus far, perhaps due to my shortened attention span, yes - this does imply that at once in my life the attention span of Michelle was not soooo short - this translation/interpretation of the Heart Sutra was designed to make the study easier for college students by George Boeree, Ph.D.

"The Heart of Prajna Paramita Sutra, with "Verses Without A Stand" and Prose Commentary" here is a PDF link by Buddhist Text Translation Society.

So, once you feel you have done enough research on the topic - try to imagine, or remember, peace. Interior and exterior peace, within and without. This is what I felt and now............crave.

True story...we must find a way to use this power for the good of man kind!

Sitting around the dinner table several days ago. Children all talking about this and that....my eldest tells me a story from his last week in school before the break:

Apparently he was talking to a friend in class and this phrase comes out of his mouth "You're Mama"...teacher hears and takes him outside the room for a little talking to, here is what happened...

Teacher: Why would you say something like that to someone about their mother? That was rude and disrespectful?

Child: I'm sorry, it is just a phrase, I didn't think about it that way.

Teacher: Do you live with your mother?

Child: No.

Teacher: Is your mother alive?

Child: (looks teacher dead in the eyes, then stares at the floor) I don't want to talk about it.

Teacher: Well, alright then, go back into class.

Just as soon as I reach the point that this does not make me chuckle, I will punish the boy!