it wasn't what you thought

Interested in another nickname story? I promise it will be quick, but I can't promise it will be as heartwarming as the Ricky story. However, I do still feel the need to write it. You see as I was gushing on and on the other day about my deep love for my friend Kathy I may have mentioned her nickname Scarybush a couple of times. Now to the uninitiated I realize it sounds borderline perverted and I am being kind in that assessment. So allow me to explain the origins of Scarybush.

A few months ago I had the opportunity to attend a showing of the Queen Musical, We Will Rock You with the girls from work. It was an amazing day. Just so much fun, but we always have a great time together. Now in the musical the main characters are Galileo and Scaramouche. If you're even a little bit familar with Queen's lyrics then these names will likely make a lot of sense to you. At some point in the show one of the characters calls Scaramouche Scarybush instead. Starting to make sense yet?

So now the show's over and we're headed off on our long walk back to the train station. It was cold and very windy that day and my Kaffy has the most beautiful naturally curly hair. You can correctly assume that the wind was not kind to it that day. Something she remarked about on the train ride home, to which I quickly retorted... "yeah, talk about your Scarybush." And much to Kathy's dismay it stuck. Well at least with her sister and I it did and that, I guess, is the important part. So all you pervy googlers out there, keep moving, there's nothing to see here.

In other, completely unrelated news there are some big things planned for my little corner of the internet. I'm hoping to announce a fundraising initiative and a contest next week. Once I get all the kinks worked out. Trust me you will all be the first to know!

Giving birth to a writer.

So for the first time in a very long time (read highschool-ish) I wrote something. Like a short story something. Back in the day I was no different than a lot of young girls, writing bad poetry and overly dramatic teenage romances. Time passed, I grew up and the writing slowly ground to a halt. I mean I still wrote in my journal, sporadically, at best, but the urge to flesh out a story on paper had apparently left me. And I was fine with that. To be honest I haven't given it a second thought in years.

One of my favourite times of the day is the time just before I fall asleep. I lay there in the dark and let my mind wander where ever it desires; an idea for a blog post, what I would do if I won the lottery, how I'd like to redecorate my bedroom and so on, you get the idea. For the last week or so my mind keeps coming back to this story I had in my head. I'm not sure where it came from. Maybe because I can't stop listening to that Hinder song. (which reminds me sognatrice has tagged me for a music meme...... Yeah my first tag. ) I don't know, but whenever I put head to pillow there it was. So yesterday I wrote it out and today I'm still tweaking it. Adding and subtracting sentences like a pro. Actually I'm half done. It turns out I actually had two stories in me. Mainly because I couldn't find an effective way to switch the narrative between the characters and since there's two sides to ever story well it only made sense to write two stories. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with them. I thought about sending them to my much more talented brother and letting him read, but that idea kind of really freaks me out. Because have I mentioned he's talented? Cause he is. Really. Or I may just post them here and this is my way of calling myself out. Time will tell.

Yesterday as I was writing, Abby sat at her makeshift desk behind me. Her little head bent over a notepad, pencil in hand making scribbles across the paper. She likes to talk as she writes and yesterday was no exception.

Abby: Dear Diary, I can count by twos and tie my shoes but I also like to do something else. Run and run around the back yard. Writing by Abby.

Abby: Dear Diary, we played ring around the rosie and played with Justin. Do you know what he does best? Plays computer with me.

How much longer until she wants a blog of her own I wonder?