The name of the game is "Make It Up Monday," and the rules are as follows:
Every Monday, I am going to post a picture that I have found somewhere on the interwebs.
Take a look at the picture - I mean really look at it - and write down in the comment form a response to it.
It doesn't have to be super long or anything (but it can be as long as you want), just a few words even will do.
I will post information about the picture, but it is up to you whether you use it or not. If you want to completely disregard the info I provide and come up with something completely original, then go for it!
For example, if a person is in the photo, what is he or she thinking?
What was going on directly before the picture was taken?
What's going to happen after?
Or, if you like captions, write a caption for the picture.
Easy as pie.
My only request is that you keep it marginally clean. Nothing that is purposefully offensive or rude, s'il vous plait! I believe that every word in the English language has a place for use (including the 4-letter ones), but please don't use them gratuitously. Just in general be classy about whatever you write.
All games have winners, right? Well, this one is no different. I and a small team of super qualified judges (aka my awesome family) will look at all the submissions and pick out our favorite. Depending on how many people enter, we will pick between 1 and 5 entries, and on Friday at approximately 5pm I will post the winner(s) with his/her/their submission(s) and a link to his/her/their blog(s). Free publicity! Wooo!!!
I will also write a little something (to be added at the end of this post), but it will, of course, not be added into the list of entries to be considered for winning. I mean, what do I need publicity on my own blog for? hehe
The deadline for submissions is on Thursday at 5pm, so get to writing!
And here's the picture:
I've decided not to post my response in the actual post, so I'll be adding mine later on today in the comments section along with the rest of you. :)
Can't wait to see what you all write!
Peace.
Stef.
Every Monday, I am going to post a picture that I have found somewhere on the interwebs.
Take a look at the picture - I mean really look at it - and write down in the comment form a response to it.
It doesn't have to be super long or anything (but it can be as long as you want), just a few words even will do.
I will post information about the picture, but it is up to you whether you use it or not. If you want to completely disregard the info I provide and come up with something completely original, then go for it!
For example, if a person is in the photo, what is he or she thinking?
What was going on directly before the picture was taken?
What's going to happen after?
Or, if you like captions, write a caption for the picture.
Easy as pie.
My only request is that you keep it marginally clean. Nothing that is purposefully offensive or rude, s'il vous plait! I believe that every word in the English language has a place for use (including the 4-letter ones), but please don't use them gratuitously. Just in general be classy about whatever you write.
All games have winners, right? Well, this one is no different. I and a small team of super qualified judges (aka my awesome family) will look at all the submissions and pick out our favorite. Depending on how many people enter, we will pick between 1 and 5 entries, and on Friday at approximately 5pm I will post the winner(s) with his/her/their submission(s) and a link to his/her/their blog(s). Free publicity! Wooo!!!
I will also write a little something (to be added at the end of this post), but it will, of course, not be added into the list of entries to be considered for winning. I mean, what do I need publicity on my own blog for? hehe
The deadline for submissions is on Thursday at 5pm, so get to writing!
And here's the picture:
![]() |
Thanks to Getty Images for this lovely, complex picture. |
I've decided not to post my response in the actual post, so I'll be adding mine later on today in the comments section along with the rest of you. :)
Can't wait to see what you all write!
Peace.
Stef.
Comments
I could pretty much associate with the girl, as I've been a victim of lots of car breakdowns when I was young :/
There's only so much left to do when you can't get moving along the road.
The first though which came to my mind was that, "I bet the girl was wishing she had brought her pony."
Then I guessed she was probably older than that, but meh. I still like ponies, why not her?!
In final thoughts, it only looks like a tire puncture and was hopefully fixed soon, along with the missing sweet, sweet smile on her face. The one usually associated with young girls. :3
I'm not totally not a pedophile. Really.
Things that aren't physically incapacitating but still leave your heart gaping, a hole that mercifully you've become numbed to. But it still doesn't change the fact that there's still an emptiness inside you yearning to be filled.
"Car's ready," he says, a shaky smile appearing reluctantly on his face.
He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and looks at you with guarded eyes, cautious eyes--and as much as you want to return that smile, you can't.
Because whatever this little road trip was supposed to do, no matter how much "bonding" the two of you share in these next few days, you know that nothing can mend these hollow memories, these neglected years.
Because how do you fix something that wasn't there in the first place?
"Dad, you are being ridiculous. I am 14 years old. I'm not a kid anymore. Don't you trust me at all?" Emma asked while being eaten away by guilt. He'd been doing his best since Mom passed away but he was too depressed to really see what was going on right under his nose.
"Sure I trust you sweetie, I just don't trust the boys your age. There won't be any parents there and I'm not comfortable with this." When did my baby get so big,he wonders, where was I? Did I really miss all this in the last 3 years? I don't even know if she has a boyfriend. I never hear her talk of one. Then again, when would I? I'm at the office all the time escaping into my work. God, I really need to try and be around more.
"Alright Dad, fine. I won't go."
"Thank you Em. Maybe we can do something special just you and me tonight?" He suggests as the car hits a pot hole. The whole car shimmies and he grips the wheel desperate to get it under control until he can pull over.
After removing the spare tire and jack and removing the damaged tire he calls to Emma, "Em can you take this wheel sweetie?"
"Yeah Dad, sure." Emma says wondering when, if not tonight, she can tell Ryan that she's pregnant. Terrified that her father will never want to have a "Dad and Em" night with her again after he finds out and thinking "God, oh God why isn't Mom here? It's just not fair!"
“Dad, I’ve been to Jenny’s house a thousand times before. I just want to spend some time with my friends. Please? Don’t you trust me?” Emma begged, after all she was desperate to get to this party.
“Honey, of course I trust you. I just don’t trust the boys that will be there and I don’t like that Jenny’s parents won’t be home for part of the night. I just worry about you. Please don’t fight with me on this.” He answered wishing with all his heart that her mother was here to have this talk. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t have the birds and bees talk with his little angel. This is what Claire was supposed to do. For the millionth time he sent up a desperate plea of “Why God, why did you take her from us?” Like all the other times, he got no answer.
“Fine, Dad. Whatever.” Emma crossed her arms over her stomach and turned to gaze out the windows at the passing hills.
Concerned that he didn’t handle that as well as he should have Ben worried as he drove and distracted missed a pot hole in the road. Immediately the car shook and wobbled and he cursed internally at his bad luck. Great, a blown tire! “Protect Emma, protect Emma.
coursing through his head he white knuckled it over to the shoulder.
As he removed his suit jacket (having just come from a meeting in time to pick Emma up late from band and rushing to make their appointment) and rolling up his sleeves he got to work removing the spare time and jack. After removing the damaged tire he turned to call to Emma. “Sweetie, can you come get this tire for me.”
“Sure, Daddy.” Emma says as she comes around the car and thinks to herself, “I know he’s doing the best he can since Mom passed, but 3 years have gone by with him working overtime and me on my own. I’m not a kid anymore. I wish he’d realize this. I have to get to this party!? How can I get to this party? I need to talk to Ryan.”
“You alright over there Emakin” Her dad inquires and she cringes at the use of her baby name. Ugh, baby name. If she can’t get to this party she can’t tell Ryan and about their baby; the one that is at this moment growing inside of her. She can’t help but wonder if this is the last time her father will ever call her “Emakins” after learning that she’s pregnant. Will he still love her? For the millionth time she sends up an angry cry to God, “Why did you take my mother away? I want my mother!”way
keep up
And well, Coach Thomas made me run laps because we got there a little late, but Dad made up for it after practice with an ice-cream cone: butter pecan with a cherry-on-the-top.
"Only smiles from now on, okay, Michelle? Nobody likes a soccer superstar with frown lines." He always tried his hardest to make me laugh.
----
ॐ Gaurav.
Her dreams of being the first woman road-race champion are quickly passing her by. She so wanted to share this day with her parents and friends who gathered to see her race. Now she sits beside the road thinking about what could have been.
"Okay Sammi", daddy calls. "Roll that old tire over here, we're just about ready to go". "Sammi?" "Sammi?"
motherhoodmusicandbeer.blogspot.com
I had images of pulling a Ralphie and saying Fuuuuudddddgggeee.
But he just made me hold the tire.
FUDGE!
Please, please do not let anyone, and I mean anyone, see me on the side of this road with a flat tire and him. I know he is my dad and all, but everyone will like make so much fun of me.
If you do this for me, I'll do anything. I'll go to church on sunday. I'll even be nice to Luke. It will be hard to be nice to the little monster, but I'll do it. Just please do not let anyone see me.
Thanks,
Amelia
Oh and could you make him hurry up?
As it turned out, and I do believe it always turns out this way, there were a few key things that we didn't even come close to considering. I always thought about how having kids would give me someone to bear witness to, but for some reason the reciprocal notion escaped me. Having kids has provided someone to bear witness to me! In all my glory, and in all my humility, there is someone watching, and that someone just happens to be the most important person in my world.
I realize now that how I handle every situation in life reflects on my character, and will often be reflected back to me through my children. It is fascinating, and the single most exhilarating experience I’ve encountered. It can also be terrifying. It is, however, a constant reminder to me about the person I really want to be, and a constant motivation to me to be that person. So, if I have decided that I want to teach a calm hand and independent self-sufficiency, then I will not panic when I get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. I will persevere. I will change the tire, even though I have no idea how to start. I will change the tire.
"Why can't I have stayed with my grandmother," she mumbled to herself. She dare not say it aloud for her father to hear, for she already knew the answer.
"Your grandmother is very sick, and it was your mother's wish for me to look after you if something happened to her."
Maria shuttered at the thought, her mother had passed away just months before of cancer and her grandmother was suffering the same fate. She had this talk with her mother before she passed and knew the best thing to happen was for her to live with her father, but that isn't what she wanted. She knew her grandmother didn't want to watch her go through the same torment of a losing battle with cancer, so she agreed to go without argument.
Maria wasn't sure how things would work out, but she promised her mother and grandmother both that she would try her best. It was strange that she knew nothing about her father, except that he was a business man who never remarried because he still loved her mother. He was a good man and he was always there for birthdays and special occasions, but she knew nothing about him, and he knew nothing about her.
It would be a challenge but she would try everything to keep her promise to her mother, "Promise me that you will give your dad a chance, he loves you very much, he just doesn't know how to show you. Be good and take care of him."
"I promise mommy, I promise."
And the girl is not amused because she hates monkey's since they bit her legs off during a kindergarten field trip to the zoo.
And her Uncle Sam isn't particularly handy, and he won't allow her to help, when she can easily just summon the flying monkeys to assist him, because flying monkeys can fix anything... if they have a stomach full of tree frogs, that is.
He says I have his eyes, but I don't see the world the way he does. I got nothing from him. I belong elsewhere.
The first time I met my father he gave me an apple flavoured lolly pop to suck on. He wore smart colourful clothes, just like mum had wanted (no black, she said) he held my hand like I needed, and seemingly had a never stash of sweets. He wasn’t at all like mum had been describing him all my life, a deadbeat she called him, I hadn’t even known what that meant. I spent the next ten years gain a compressive understanding of the term, my first lesson, a flat tyre on the way to my mums funeral.
After so many miles of spinning, stretching, squealing, and swishing, someone is hugging me! I knew I was reaching the end of my life, and I was afraid. Afraid of what?
I don't care how they dispose of me, it's all been worth it for this one sublime moment.
Why can't this guy get anything right? When Daddy was alive he never would have let this happen. He knew how much I loved the Jonas Brothers and would have trusted me enough to allow me to ride with Megan's older sister, Jane, to the concert like we had planned.
I miss Daddy so much. I know Charlie's trying to be a good guy for me and my mom. It's just that no matter how much he tries he'll never be Daddy.
Guess it could be worse. Mom could have wound up marrying that lame guy from the bank. At least Charlie's good at fixing flats. So, I guess I won't complain too much.
Besides he bought me this cool watch and got us front row tickets.
Well looks like he's about finished. Time to hit the road.
Amen..
P.S. God? Thanks for listening and give Daddy a big hug for me!
no match for breathless eyes
that see sparkle on a wyoming horizon,
no match for fine ears that reach
for magic on the windblown plains.
Even bare rubber and asphalt
fall victim to the soaring flight
that transcends stagnant reality.
I mean just because my mom married him, it doesn't mean i 'have to like him or his stupid snob family. I think I'm just going to go out tonight when they're all asleep....That'll show him...I'm not like his little precious daughter Lauren Ashley.....
I can't wait to Facetime with my best friends since dad won't buy me the iPhone 4. /:
let alone sent. Letters read by eyes
that did not know what they meant,
yet felt the pain.
If only we could turn back the wheel of time
so we could change our mistakes.
I listen and do as I am told.
That's the best way to avoid making
hurting anyone.
But, if I could find my voice,
would they even listen to me?
Mario’s face opened with surprise. He labored to pull the car over onto the side of the freeway.
He got out and looked to at the side of the car. “Looks like we’ve got a flat, Rhon. You wanna come out and help me a sec?”
Rhonda. One of the better names I’d made up for myself. I’d have to keep that in mind.
I climbed out of the car slowly and reluctantly. No, I didn’t really want to help him fix the flat. I’m not an auto mechanic, not even close. But I felt I owed it to the him. Not a lot of guys would pick up an eleven year old girl hitch-hiking along the side of the Arizona highway.
Leaving the air-conditioned Mustang made me realize how hot it was outside. Fortunately it was a dry heat, and I much preferred it to the humidity of the east coast, a place I’d spent a lot of time. I took a moment to roll up my sleeves.
Mario was fiddling with a long silver thing he was pressing into the hubcap of the car. I tuned out a little bit, gazing off the side of the highway into the open desert. There was a rugged beauty about the red rocks, the unwavering sunlight. Almost godly. And the complete lack of civilization. This is where I want to live, I thought. Away from all the people.
“Here,” Mario said from behind me. I turned around and saw that he had pried the offending tire from the rim. “Can you hold onto this for a little while?” He smiled and got back to work.
I got down onto my knees and rolled the tire over to me. Why was he so nice to me? Why wasn’t he like every nearly other grown-up I’d ever known, and told me I was worthless? I almost regretted not being able to tell him my real name.
Skyler. It took a moment to remember. My father used to say that it was because my heart was as big as the sky. I started conjuring a picture of my father.
No. My father was dead. No use reopening old wounds. Harden the heart.
I pulled the tire close to me and nestled against it. I didn’t worry about ruining my clothes; the dog back in Louisiana had taken care of that.
I started thinking back to the time I first ran away, two years ago. When I was nine. When I first realized that my mother was not safe or stable, and that she was going to kill me.
So I left, because it’s the only thing I know how to do. Run away.
My gaze was drawn to a falcon soaring on some thermals, wings spread as if experiencing the most relaxing thing in the world.
I wish I was a bird. You can’t trap a bird. A bird can fly, fly away from all its troubles. And it doesn’t ever have to look back.
Merryn hated the moving…the constant sense of running away. Every time they seemed to finally settle down in that new home, that new school, that new life: they were packed and moving once again. The road was a weary place to grow up for any child.
Clink “Oh, son of a—” her father bit his tongue as he glanced over at Merryn. She thought it sweet though a bit naive of her father to reframe from such language around her. She had heard worse in the school bathroom.
Merryn watched her father in his attempt at changing the tire. He was often useless when it came to fixing things, especially with the car. But he always refused to call for help. She sometimes felt it was as if he was afraid of who might show up.
“Watch the road, sweetie,” her father pointed her attention back to the winding highway behind them.
He’d never admit it, but they were running away…but from what?
Mom’s death? No. It was something deeper, something much scarier that kept them on the move. And her father wasn’t easily scared. For that matter, neither was she…
I wonder what Emily's doing. I bet her family's car never breaks down. This sucks. I'm supposed to be at home facebook chatting with Johnny from math class! My dad is lame'
"DAD! Can't we just call mom already?!"
I wish they'd finish already I really really need to go. I was so excited I got the slot. My mom said that if I wanted to be an actress it would take a lot of patience and hard work. I didn't think standing still and staring space was going to be such hard work. It's a pity you have to start with ads. If my parents would be famous I'd probably be starring in a movie already...
She responds with a, "Yeah, okay Uncle Mark," then mutters to herself, "Pretty sure I know where it was two minutes ago."
She stares off into the distance spotting a bird on the horizon. Only one thought crosses her mind.
"Must. Will. Vulture. To come. Pick up. Careless Uncle."
'Dad?'
'Oh for heavens' sake, child, can't you see I'm busy?'
So she stopped sharing, and just looked, and she thought 'I hope I never get so busy I can't see.'
She might not know this, but the reason the car tire went onto the gravel and hit the glass, thus puncturing the tire, was not because I was distracted wtih the radio. It's because I missed my girl, the beautiful girl who had a beautiful heart to match it.
I can hear her rolling her eyes, sighing at the disappointment her father must be to her, and leaning on the tire. There's a slight creak each time she shifts, and I'm trying to focus on changing the tire, I really am. But I can't.
I turn around, abandon the changing of a tire. I walk up to her and hug her. No words said, just a hug. I feel her flinch at first, almost push me away. But then I feel her relax, put her arms around me too.
"I've missed you, Daddy."
"I've missed you more."
She had the tyre, was leaning on it and her real dad had taught her enough for her to know there was nothing wrong with it.
She could hardly have missed his sleazy ways, the way he winked at her when her mum wasn’t looking, the way he seemed to manage to get in the way when she was trying to get through a door, the way his hands drifted a little too far below her back when he clasped her in those cringing embraces.
So here she was, resigned to the knowledge that he would try something, all she could do was wait. Lean and wait as tears gathered in her eyes. Not noticeably but if someone looked closely they would see.
He turned, “honey can you roll that tyre here? I might need it again.”
Reluctantly she turned, here we go. With a few steps she was within reach and he snaked an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, “this is fun isn’t it?” squirming she shrugged away, why her? Why was she the one subjected to his perverted touchings. As his hands slipped lower she pushed herself away but his grip tightened and she felt a scream building inside her, seeking to burst free, even though no one would hear. She separated her mind from her body, locked herself away inside, and prayed that someone would drive by. That was all she had left, Hope.
I have to get out of here, and this seems like the perfect opportunity. While Hank is stuck changing the stupid tire, I could just slip away...
Problem is, he'll just catch me. Always does.
Who dreamed of hair that could curl
She met a mechanic
Who said 'Do not panic.
Try wishing, just give it a whirl!'
It’s not stupid. And it’s not melodramatic. I have four older sisters. And two younger sisters. Well, half sisters. He divorced Mom after she didn’t give him the boy he wanted. What are their names? Jordan, Alex, Tyler and Riley are my real sisters. Jess and Taylor are the little brats. I’m Cameron. Still think he didn’t want a boy?
"Don't you fret, kiddo! I've got a spare in the trunk, and I'll have us on the road again in no time!" Yeah, right. That was, like, a hundred hours ago, and it don't look like he's fixin' to finish this job any time soon.
And he's whistlin' too! Don't seem to bother him none that Mama's gonna be yellin' and screamin' and all red in the face cuz he's late again bringing me back from his weekend. Sure, he'll just smile his crooked smile and say, "Aw, c'mon, Jess, you know I'm tryin' my best for the girl. And I sure do miss your pretty face too."
And Mama will just roll her eyes and tell him to grow up, and I'll get stuck with her ugly mood the rest of the night. I ain't never gettin' married when I grow up.
Here goes:
Anida sat in her car, unwillingly listening to the rigs that passed her by at speeds only the New Jersey Turnpike can offer. "Ten years ago I was i the same situation on I-40 on my way to Alberquerque," she thought miserably. "I should have payed more attention to Uncle Drew instead of watching TRL through the gas station window."
I feel so useless here in this back seat, and my damn leg itches underneath this cast. It is chilly out here in this dead land "Sissy, the tire". As she turned to roll the spare toward dad, my attention was drawn to the road. A mile or so away, I saw him, arms spread wide, walking down the middle of this old stretch. You could almost see death rolling like waves behind him.
All her hopes for the day were gone. She had agreed to go on a ride with her dad in his new car. He had promised they would be back in plenty of time. But along the way they had gotten a flat tire, only to find the spare also had a hole in it. Two hours later, after walking to the nearest town and back to get the tire fixed, it was finally being changed. But now it was to late.
Jenna should have been at the movies by now with Tod. She had been longing for the day he would notice her, and he finally did last week. He had asked her out and she had agreed to meet him under the willow tree by the old town hall building. Although she knew her parents would never allow her to date at her age, she had planned to go anyway. She had told them she was meeting friends and going to get ice cream, that line always worked.
But instead here she was on the side of the road convincing herself that Tod would probably never look her way again. "My life is over.." she thought as she turned to take the spare to her dad. Little did she know her life was just beginning, and soon she would see this one disappointment had saved her from the unthinkable.