Pen Theif

This is my first paper for my english comp class i'm in right now. thought you'd maybe like to read it.


We were grocery shopping in the best store in the history of all time. At least to a hungry seven-year-old it was the best. When we walked through Sam’s glass doors, my little sister and I walking beside my mom who pushed a cart with my baby brother in his little baby carrier in it, every one of us would smell why it was the best store ever. It was the smell of at least five different food samples set up throughout the store. My stomach always seemed to turn into a never ending cavern when we would visit Sam’s. My tummy’s growl would echo through the skyscraping aisles of boxed foods. Our noses were always fixed in an upward sniffing pose, so we could sense when one of those hunched over old ladies were right around the corner with her cart of quarter sized samples of tasty free foods to serve to us with a smile from beneath a hairnet.

On one such grocery store trip, we had finished and were all lined up at the checkout, little brother and sister in the cart and me beside my mom. I remember my mom was so much taller than me. That seems like an obvious statement, but she was. She lived up in the clouds of adult land where they were all super tall. Adults spoke a language I didn’t quite understand. They had big reasons for their every little action and harsh, almost irrational reactions to match. Now that I live in this world of tall people as one of them myself, I was shocked to discover that the air they breathe is in fact quite similar to the air I grew up on. They were not chemically altered, just older and perhaps more understanding than I had originally supposed. Right at that moment, my ethereal mother was focused on loading the groceries onto the conveyor belt-thing and I was focused on the wall of candy to my right, drooling.

A minute later, my mother’s voice drifted down to me from the clouds pleasantly, “Bree, could you grab me my pen, hon’?”

I looked back up at her. Her attention had already returned to the checker, her hair a long, brunette curtain between me and her face. I was on my own.

A pen. I could do that. I was the oldest after all. I could find a pen.

My eyes flew about my immediate surroundings in search of a pen for my mom. Candy wall; no. Cart with brother and sister; no. My mom, obviously no. The checkout opposite ours; yes! There resting on the cash register of the adjacent checkout were two blue pens resting on the lip of the grey register. What could he possibly need two pens for? The man guarding the register had his back to me; he was helping a woman on the other side of his counter.

I glanced back to my mom. Her eyes were still fixed on what she was doing.

Sluggishly, I turned back to the man with the two pens in sight sitting side by side, unused on his register. I knew what I had to do. I reached up and took one. And just as my hand began to pull that blue and white pen away from the man, he turned and looked right at me. I froze. He just looked at me. His thin lips turned down in a disgusted manner that matched his eyes which were poking holes into my resolve. I tingled with fear. My mouth stood open and I felt like my eyes must have been taking up the majority of the room on my face, they were so wide. This man was going to call the police. I was going to jail. Maybe mom didn’t need the pen this much. But it was in my hand and the man had already seen me. I was already doomed.

I spun round and gave the pen to my mom.

She looked at it, sort of confused. I stared up at her, waiting for her grateful response. Instead she quirked a half smile at me and questioned lightly, “Where’d you get this?”

Wordlessly, I pointed a thumb at the man behind us, somewhat astounded that she cared where it came from and nervous that she somehow knew the crime I’d committed to attain the pen. I felt compelled to explain myself. She would know the truth before they carted me off. “You said to get you a pen and I couldn’t find any, but he had two so I took his.”

“Oh, I meant that one.” She smiled at me easily and pointed at the floor. There on the grey cement was a red pen. It guffawed at me. I picked it up and gave it to my mom, who gave me a distracted “thanks, honey” and returned to loading the purchased food into the cart after dropping the villainous pen into her purse.

We walked out of the Sam’s and no one came to arrest me. I was home free. It wasn’t until a few years later that I understood why the man with two pens didn’t have me tossed in jail. All the same, I never was comfortable in Sam’s again. In my mind I was a wanted criminal there. They probably had my picture from the surveillance cameras. I was not welcome in the store of yummy sample foods.

Perhaps I was an overly dramatic kid.

Somehow this need to always look over my shoulder still sticks with me. Like any moment, a police officer or a teacher or an elder from church will realize that I am a pen thief. I realize that now that I am an adult, I should be able to look back at this moment and laugh and I do try to, but honestly thinking of it sends me right back to that store and injects me full of the hunted feeling that pervaded me that day. I have learned over time though that fears are often irrational and that the best way to defeat them is to live your life anyway. That’s what I do.

End Paper. We were required to write an author's note as well. so here you go.

I chose this event because it was something I remember very vividly. It was also a scene that I knew was short enough that I could really pay attention to the detail. Also it was something that
I knew affected me…Even if I hadn’t figured out how, yet.

When I decided that I would use the pen thieving incident, I drew up a little sketch of the main points I knew I wanted to have and wrote it out. I guess I tried to put myself back in the moment as much as I could and tried to remember not just that moment but other stuff from my childhood. Like I remember looking up at my mom all the time and wondering how the heck someone gets so tall.

To show the significance of the moment, I tried to explain exactly what I thought would happen as if it were real. I was convinced that I would get arrested for that; there was no doubt in my mind. I wanted to convey the irrational thought to the reader like it was completely rational, to try and show them where I was coming from. I think that might have been why it was so hard for me to add in reflections about where I am now.

Writing this really made me think about how completely groundless this fear is. All of it was a misunderstanding. It also helped me to make the connection between this event and my fear of anyone with authority over me. It still freaks me out to buy things myself. I don’t go into stores by myself; I always have friends with me. I try to have the money out to pay as soon as I can so I can leave without any hiccups. It’s not just that, though. It’s when I drive by police men. It’s in school, I try to disappear into the other students and do the work so there’s no reason for teachers to come after me. But I know that just by living life, day by day and being conscious of my fear helps me overcome it. I am a teacher now, I teach swimming lessons. So that part of the fear is pretty much extinct. I figure that if I go through the check out enough, someday it will be no problem.

Even though this event was a vivid one, it still was a long time ago and some of the details are fuzzy. I just had to make up new ones. I also had a really hard time with sticking the reflection in there. Maybe it is such a negative event to me, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I still haven’t figured out why it affects me so much. Just because I know I shouldn’t be afraid doesn’t mean I’m not. That frustrates me. I also felt like the reflections were just hard to fit in, like it almost didn’t make sense for me to put it in. It seemed to interrupt the flow for me. The story is very much written from the perspective of a seven-year-old; it felt weird sticking in an adult’s perspective.

All in all, I’m satisfied with the essay. I think it has a gradual build. I like the humor it has in it. I like the dialogue, how it is the catalyst to my conflict. I don’t like the reflections. I think they came out awkward. I like it right now, but next week I probably will have changed my opinion.

I have to post this video. This song is every bit me, right now. It's the process I've been in for forever.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_WaVv874DfE


The knowledge that I should stop this is never enough to actually stop me. In a matter of weeks I'll want it back and I'll feel guilty for neglecting it and have to grovel which will not help anything. It's less work to just maintain the connection I have to it.

Everything is so busy right now. How bizarre that only a couple weeks after the fall starts, my life is stacked with volumes of people and worries that it should be bursting were I to adhere to previous standards of busy-ness. But it's not. And I like it like this. It's beautiful chaos. A never ending tumble-dry setting to rid me of the rain.
Seasons.

I like that my life is no longer defined by desolation. I also like that it was not some boy that pulled me out of the hole I was living in.

Speaking of boys, I am irked by people's apparent desire to set me up with them. Firstly I did not just finish 14 years of school to just settle down. Forget it.
Secondly I refuse to be the pretty, dolled-up girl they require of me. I am not a prize to be won. I'm not something to obtain. I am not something to do. I am not something to complete them. I'm not sure what I am per say, but I know what I am not.
Thirdly I have a lot of decisions to make at this juncture and I'd like to make them without having to consider a "soul mate" into the equation.

Sometimes I think people take relationships way too lightly and loneliness too seriously. Loneliness won't kill ya. Not unless you live in Hollywood. Take it easy. Don't sell yourself out for a little, short term comfort.

I think everyone may have forgotten about blogs.

.............



I started school a few weeks ago. Ironically, I am loving school now. I think it was wise to break for a year. I had 14 strait years of school, for heaven's sake. That's a lot. A person deserves a break. I am ready for the challenge. We'll see how long my enthusiasm lasts.



I am really feeling a lot better, mentally. Truly. I'm not just saying it.
I do think that I am a little addicted to the feeling of grieving something. I have nothing left to grieve anymore really. But I think it might only be a matter of time before I dig something else up. I don't think I can stand to go too long without that achy feeling in my chest. Weird, no? I don't know what that is. I'm just telling you.



My fish tanks need cleaning. I am sooooo very tired all the time. I think I've already written on here that I've read somewhere the insomniacs experience a feeling of euphoria when they are really sleep deprived....which I don't disagree with. I just lay there and think about everything. Seriously everything. Until my eyes start making funny shapes out of the shadows.



I think the thing that I wonder about most is how all these amazing things are happening in the lives of the people I love. Amazing God things.

I feel nothing....Nothing but that empty nothing-ness sort of feeling.

Now, I know feelings are dumb. They lie. And I also know that it's not about me. And please do not misunderstand me, I am very, very happy that the people I love are being changed and metamorphosing into new and amazing people. I just feel like the doofus who's radio must be tuned to the wrong station or something cause I am not getting too much here. Just a load of static.



I know that theoretically, the answer to this problemo is to speak truth to myself...but at the same time.....I don't know, I'm just stubborn. I know the truth. I know God is there. I know He cares about me. So in a way this numbness is making the truth worse for me to hear. It makes me angry. Not even gonna lie. I am mad at God. I know that He is all powerful. He could stop this. So.....? What's the deal here?

I dunno.



And there is that small part of my brain that's screaming at me, saying that the whole last paragraph is bull, and I know it. Let me revise. God is here with me. God loves me. God will never leave me or forsake me. He's right here. He's right here. He's right here. He's right here. He's right here.



What else? there is nothing else. that's all.

I told you I'd find something to be sad about. I'm addicted to the sadness. I told you.

*edit*
I wrote-ed this a while ago, but I haven't posted it cause I wanted to skim over it to make sure there is not any dumb-ness in there, but then I thought Where would life be without dumbness?
In a very boring place, Jimmy. That's where.

I'd also like to add that I am getting enough sleep to let me dream again. Which is GLORIOUS! dreaming is my favorite. wonderful. spiffy. shiny-ness.
Last night I dreamed that I was in the desert somewhere and way down underground was some sort of metal that caused other metals that came over it to emit electrical energy and do crazy stuff. So I had earings in and they were allowing my ears to pick up sound better when I was there. (so cool) and so I could here people's hearts beating and their footsteps and stuffs.
perdy sweet.

that's all

I wasn't going to post this, but here we go anyway.
I have realized that I've been stuck on a friendship that has long since past. I have been constantly looking back and thinking what ifs and feeling guilt about it. It has effected all my other relationships. I have been hiding. It's been painful to even think about moving on because I feared I would be betraying what I had. Like I owed the friend something.

I'm not saying things will suddenly be different now that I've realized this. I will say though that for the first time I've actually dared to think that they aren't stuck like I am, and maybe I don't need to be either.

Long, long, long time coming. I want to fall asleep with the peace the thought brings.

Of course I've known that I am probably the only one still dwelling on the past, but I'd hoped that perhaps things could be like they were again and maybe I'd be braver this time.

Now I think that they have all moved on and that's wonderful because I can too. No one is counting on me to do otherwise.

Y'know what else, if anything I did was wrong before, it is forgiven and far from me. The past does not define me. I am new....and shiny. A whole lot lighter if you ask me because the past isn't me any more.

So there ya go, another post that doesn't make sense. O wells.

A creep and a weirdo.

This is the greatest and best song in the world...k not really. but it's my favorite, right now. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEVOVN24R08
It's a Nine Inch Nails cover. love, love, love Flyleaf.

It has been forever since I've written a single thing on here. Seeing as I have been in this trend of expressively vomiting lately, I think I will update this baby. Just be warned, I feel as if the hormonal bit of my period didn't end when it should have...which would have been, what, two weeks ago, ish? I am so very moody and just generally a scary person right now.

My goldfish died. I'd cuss, if I were in the habit. Do you suppose people who cuss feel freer?....Is freer a word? Much more freer. Free-er? Whatever. Spell checker says yes. Freer. weird.
I loved that goldfish. It's dumb, I know, to love a goldfish. But "I often give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it. " Name that movie.

There's this song that I love, partially cause it reminds me of someone I used to know. One of the lines in it goes something like "wage this war against your faith in me," and that's out of context of the song, and is actually just about the only song I actually like in the song...but I've always related to it. cause I've always felt like people's perceptions of me are way very mistaken. (ha ha, way very. that came out funny.)
Not saying people think I'm wonderful or anything, and if you do you are way very mucho mistaken, but some people think I'm nice.....which is all sorts of a misunderstanding. I am a coward. I am not nice. Let me tell you, you have mistaken my fear of upsetting people for a desire to not upset them at all. I wonder if all pacifists are cowards or just me? People think I am well-behaved because I've never had a boy, well that's cause I'm scared to death of it, not cause i don't want to. maybe y'all already knew that.
There are other things, but I am too lazy to list them...Let us deal with one thing at a time shall we.
Point being, I love that song cause I think life would be much easier if you all knew my deepest, dingiest thoughts. Then I could not feel like an impostor and we could all move on with our lives....*sigh* it doesn't matter what I feel.

This probably doesn't make a bit of sense. I kinda past caring.

I'm sorry, I have to write this. I know it's bad blogging all these problems instead of speaking to people about them, but it's always been easier for me. Path of least resistance, as it were...What does the phrase "as it were" mean? I have no clue. I just used it, tho.

I am developing a pet peeve. I hate it when people point out my problems...I know my problems. I am very, very aware. Golly, if i knew how to fix most of them, i would.
Some of them are just too comfortable to fix. That's my main issue right now, I don't care to fix my loner-ness. It is quite convenient to be by myself. I actually enjoy it most of the time. Amy Lee said once "I've learned to love being alone." That's me. I love it. It's the best. Mostly. A good portion of the time.

This loner tendency is just reinforced by the time I've practiced it. I feel awkward now when I'm with people. I should say more awkward. I don't fit anywhere. Sheesh this sucks, cause I used to. I used to know people that spoke my language. Oh wells. It's stupid to dwell on it, I spose. It is unlikely to occur again, therefor I must stop thinking about it and stop expecting it from people.
Learn a new language. A normal one, please.

Church. It's an interesting place. K, no it's not. But it is a place where my not-fitting-in-ness is exponentially magnified. I don't know how that happens, but it's how it has always been for me. I've gotten along just fine, comparatively except for at church. Course, I've had my buddies, who have been God sends and life savers and whom I've had to do without this last year.
Weeeeeeellls, I don't know why I feel like this. It's just the way it is. I wish I was ok with it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5vC7mZK_PE

people are always so pretty at church....pretty, pretty people. lovely, really
...Ok, really? What am I doing here? bathing in bitterness, I suppose. Letting my toes get pruney.

Sleeping Pills

I am realizing that when I tell people I will call them, I should probably do it. Regardless of my fear of phones....
Cause even though I fully intended to shut this kid down for a second time, I am disappointed that the opportunity is gone cause he doesn't have the guts. Bummer.
I believe I'll add that to my extensive wish list of manly traits a man should have; guts, right next to a healthy objection to manicures. Men should not enjoy manicures. I don't care what you say. No, I will not argue with you. My mind is set.
Oh, and when I say guts, I do not mean the hair gel Guts. Only I am allowed to use that. Because I'm pretty, you ask? Yes, because I am pretty.

I had an experience recently, that I think I should blog about. Here I am. To blog.

Firstly, I had a dream that a horse was in my cousin's kitchen. It was a zombie horse. I knew cause it had yellow eyes. Anyhow, it was trying to bite me. No big deal really, I made it go away. But then it bit a jaguar and the jaguar-zombie was trying to eat me. So naturally, I caught it and was attempting to find a muzzle for the thing, but it was too busy at the cousins. I think they were giving all the little people bathes. That's what happens when you have many children, you have absolutely no time for zombies.

That was not the experience afore mentioned.
I had a really, really bad week at work last week. A parent threatened to pull his kid out of my class and take him elsewhere. (If I knew how to make one of those smiley faces look super stressed, I'd insert one right here.) It turned out ok, my boss came in and fixed it and he didn't pull his kid out and I'm happy cause he doesn't know that no one is as good as us.

That night I turned out the lights at midnight and laid in bed for three hours and thought about what on earth have I done to deserve this, and how the world suddenly ceased to be my oyster but instead that underwater mine field that the sharks live in on Finding Nemo, and of how I should tell boss that I need a vacation or I would need to be done.

And after waking my entire family up and about 2:40 am whilst searching for sleeping pills but only finding advil, I laid in bed and spoke very angrily with God. My mom told me that I need to be content with my life right now. I should list things that I am grateful for...Well, I tried. I tried as genuinely as I could at that hour of the night, while being as freaked as I was. It wasn't too heart felt. I listed all the stuff that I know I should be grateful for.....And I realized that I am really sick of being content with my life.
I am completely unsatisfied with where I am right now. If there is some verse that says that's a sin then, well, I guess I am a sinner. (ha, thank you captain obvious) You know what, I don't mind being unsatisfied with my life right now, because it is motivating. And I need that motivation.

That was the end of the night, however. I was still speaking angrily at God and telling Him how I relate to that flair that says "Losing faith in humanity, one person at a time." (Yes, I do discuss facebook flair with God, from time to time. It's deep.) I have come to the conclusion that people are pretty messed up and another word comes to mind instead of "messed," and I just feel really sorry for the genuinely good people I meet, cause it's only a matter of time till they are disillusioned.
The next logical conclusion is if the creation is so flawed what on earth was the Creator thinking? It's the age old question of "was free will really worth this?" If you look at what has been lost, I'd say no. Lucky for you all, it's not up to me.

All in all, I spose it's an amazing phenomenon that God would allow us free thinking abilities when He has taken into account the bad we are capable of, He saw instead the wonderful potential of his creations have. God is a good God. Theoretically, the good-potentials should over power the bad we've been doing, right? Maybe not. (All that made more sense in my head. I hope that wasn't too bizarre of a statement.)

Friday night I didn't think about that though. I was thinking that the world is coming to an end and I am going to be in a swimsuit, shouting at some kids who are attempting to drown themselves when it happens. Shoot.
So, I was asking God what the crap I have done wrong with my life. Which turn was it that was the wrong one? Which of course came back to the backbone of my questions, "Why can't I hear you anymore?"
I've been watching the tv show Kings and just recently in it the king, Silas has been forsaken by God. And I relate. Except, I don't believe I've done anything wrong....Cept being really mad at God. Well, what do I know. I probably did something, I just have no clue what it is.
Maybe this is part of growing up, if it is I would like to die now please.
Two years.
I know I've written earlier that what I have had before is good enough for now, which is good in theory, but bad in practice. I can't live on my own strength from day to day, with memory to help me. Man, I am freakishly forgetful. I can't do this. God is bigger than that.
So I said, out loud, to the dark (it's kinda scary talking to God about something you're angry about - I'm pretty sure, even though I was in the basement, God can figure out some way to smite me with lightning,) "Show me. Show me you are real. Show me you care about this crap."
That's when I fell asleep and I dreamt about the zombie horse.

Today my boss called to ask if I could sub next Saturday. I spilled. Which is normally really hard for me to talk about any thing sensitive like that anyway and this was on a PHONE. I told her all about how I couldn't take too much more of work, I was about to freak out, and needed some time off. So, next session I am off for two whole weeks. (Insert super happy smiley face) May I just say, WOOOOOOOOOT!
That was a God thing. She wasn't even calling for me, she was calling for my mum. Like whoa. I just happened to have the gumption to answer the phone when her name was blinkin' at me from the caller ID. I'll take it. Little tiny phone-shaped burning bush to say, "I know your limits better than you and I'm taking care of you."

And for all y'all that think this wasn't a big deal...You don't get it, I would not have called her by myself. And by the time Tuesday would have rolled around, I would have blocked it all from my memory and then something REAAALLY bad would have happened and I would have quit on the spot or something dramatic like that. And I was believing that God has me working here for a reason until last week and now I do again after that phone call.

It's really late now. My sleeping pills started kicking in like half an hour ago and I accidentally typed sleeping piss. haha, sorry mom, it was just too funny of an accident. This whole post may not make any sense in the morning, but I want to get it up while it's fresh in my mind.
I wanted tell you about how I absolutely cannot lean on my own understanding, and the next time I try to please act like you completely understand what I'm going through and then when I am least expecting it, slap my across the face with a large and raw fish carcass. I'll get more sleep that way.

Yesh, so thank you, Jesus.
And here's my song,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzyys6kW8yg
i haven't watched the video, i just love the song.

Oh, and mom, I'm sorry. I know it stresses you out when I am being an angsty teen-ish person. Sorry. And also about the whole not being too grateful thing. As with all the things that I halfway ignore what you've said to figure it out on my own, you're probably right. Actually I am pretty sure you're right, I just haven't figured out how it all fits together yet. it'll come together when i quit thinking of course.....so now that i've embarrassed you at least once, i think it's time to call it a night. *giggles* goodnight.

Wow, I am inspired lately. Holy moley. It seems like I go through times where I am frustrated always because I try to write and nothing comes out. And now I have so many ideas I can't seem to find enough time to get them down.

I can't figure out what has caused this.....It may have something to do with the contact I've had with friends lately. Or it could be the changing weather...I am in love with the rain. The rain and I are friends. I didn't realize it but I have been missing that rain...And although I'm a little sad that winter is gone, I'm glad for the rain. Oooooh, or maybe it was going to a wedding this Saturday....Who knows.

Weeeeell, alls I know is that my kiddos (characters in my story) are growing. And I am loving this process.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWD1oDnEfm0 I adore this music.

PS - I have discovered a cool new show. Kings...It's like the modern telling of the David and Goliath story...But mostly the David story. I need to reread it in the Bible so I can know where exactly it deviates from the actual story, which I know it does in a little more than a few ways. But altogether it is really cool. I LOVE symbolism in the a story, and this has lots of it.
The first episode was free on Itunes, but it might not be anymore...If not you can catch two episodes on Hulu.com