My Mumbling Thoughts

A couple of days ago, I watched this video on Current about this "ghost granny" thing that was scaring locals in Sri Lanka. I have no idea why I watched it; I hate scary shit. I'm not one of those people that particularly enjoys being scared for fun. My heart can't take it. I'm a smoker.

I decided to watch it anyway, because while I may not like scary things, sometimes I do get intrigued by the whole "unknown paranormal" stuff. It's interesting and can make your brain wander about things that maybe we don't always see with the naked eye. I pressed play and watched it with Carlene and Trish next to me, all of us waiting for something weird to happen. The video was only two minutes and a few seconds long, and towards the end, we were surprised to see this scary old lady on the elevator camera after these two men stepped out. It scared me and Trish so much that we actually screamed out loud, and then scared Carlene because we screamed out loud.

Ever since then, I've been a stupid, little baby, and have been having trouble sleeping at night, and I never have trouble getting to sleep; it's one of my favorite things to do. I've turned into this weird nocturnal creature that occupies myself with anything until I'm so ridiculously tired, I don't have time to open and close my eyes twelve times to make sure nothing is hovering over me. And quite frankly, it's starting to piss me off.

Then, while I was laying in bed at five o'clock in the morning, catching up on blogs and occupying my mind once again, I read Chelsea's latest blog about clowns and fear. It wasn't exactly what I'm going through, but it was similar, and made me realize a few things, like how silly this whole ghost granny thing is. I'm probably just making it out to be a much bigger and scarier thing in my head. No, I am making it a much bigger and scarier thing, when it doesn't need to be. I've been living here how long, and I haven't had too many problems... that I know of. I'll be fine. My sleep schedule should get on as normal, I hope.

But it also got me thinking about a few other real fears that I have. Fears that can't simply magically disappear. Fears that I'll have to deal with one way or another, whether that's telling someone who can help me out, or finding something that will quickly make it all go away - like winning the lottery.

With all of this heavy and intense life shit going on around me, I've been trying so hard not to close up and head back to Denial Island. While it is a lovely place to stay at from time to time, I fear that I tend to get lost in all of denial haze, I lose track of what's important and what needs to get done. I'm scared that I won't get a job, that I'll have to tell Momma that I've royally fucked up again, and that it's going to take me an age to get all of my finances sorted out. I fear that I won't have my share to pay some of the bills, that people will hate me for owing them so much money for so long and hold it over my head. I'm scared that I'll start lashing out at people, which I tend to do whenever I get into these kind of situations. And I'm scared that I'll never sort myself out properly. What if I'm always that girl that has money problems? I don't want to be her. Nobody likes hanging out with her, because whenever she asks for a favor, people's first thought is that she needs money, when really she was just wondering if she could borrow your curling iron. It's not a good thing.

Aside from all of those fears, I've also got those horrible little niggles that many girls my age, who are single think about every so often (read: every second of every day). I'm scared of being alone.

There. I said it.

That horrible thing that I hate to think about, let alone actually say. What am I, sixty-seven?

No, I'm definitely not old. Not yet anyway. But I'm also not the most patient person on the planet. Anybody who has ever met me, even for one second, knows that. But it would be nice. To have someone. Who is a man. To be here. With me.

Of course then I always go back to the whole, "if you weren't having any of these problems right now, you wouldn't even be thinking about this." Which is true. I have always prided myself on being the girl that doesn't need a man. I only need a man for one thing, and I can get that whenever I want. It's easy. I'm easy. London is a big city, and there are a lot of potentials. And after the big Ash/Sam train wrecks, I've been keeping my distance (emotionally, that is) from other potentials. Yes, there was Swindon for a brief couple of weeks, but that quickly faded along with my hope (we never did go on that date either, the schmuck).

Perhaps I'm in a rut, who knows? Maybe I'll find out when I speak to Lena this coming Tuesday; we are talking about relationships (or so Fran said we might be when I saw her the last time). Maybe I'm just going through a dry spell, a phase, a bump in the road. Or maybe I'm just letting my fear completely consume me. The ghost granny has claimed my sleep, and all of my other bigger fears appear to be claiming my sanity. And I fear if I don't conquer these fears soon, I'll be watching a lot of sunrises from my bedroom window at half five in the morning.

Posted by Sam at 05:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
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Summer has definitely touched London, and for the past week and a half or so, I've been laying outside with just enough clothes on to not get thrown in jail for indecent exposure. We walk around in flip flops, tank tops, short shorts and our hair pulled up and off of our necks to try and keep cool. It has been nothing but bright, blue skies, hot sun and ice lollies. And slightly pink skin from absorbing too much of the hot weather. I forget that my skin isn't used to all of this sunshine, and got a bit too excited about staying outside for hours on end. I've since spent the past two days mostly inside, shielding my gentle skin and letting it recover from the harsh rays. I do believe that tomorrow I should be fine though, and will be going out to the parks for more naps out on the grass.

It has been a lovely break from the past few weeks where I've locked myself indoors, only to stare out the window and wishing I was outside, but rather had to force myself to do coursework that I hated and wanted to throw over the balcony to the random animals so they could tear it into little shreds of nothing. I have been making up for lost time, to say the least, and am enjoying my little rest from the hell that was the end of my second year at uni.

This next week, however, will not only just be spent dozing off in the grass, but waiting for Simon to call with any potential jobs. He called me last week for a job that paid so well, but that quickly dissipated when all of the positions were filled before they even reached my name. It was sad, but I'm hopeful this week will bring something else. I also submitted my CV to another temp agency called Office Angels. Apparently they're supposed to be really good as well, so I hope to hear from them too. I suppose it'll just be a race to see who can get me a job first. The sooner I start work, the better I'll feel about a lot of things.

Until then, I've just been doing chores around the flat, making sure that things are ready for when I actually do get work. I bought a couple of shirts to go with some of my nice trousers, ironed all of my clothes that require ironing, bought groceries, and so on. Everything will be ready and stocked for me, that way when it is time for me to work, I don't have to worry about running late because I didn't iron that one shirt that goes so nicely with my light pink trousers. It also keeps my mind occupied from going absolutely insane.

Today is Mother's Day back home too. I called Momma and Mel via Skype and chatted with them for a little over two hours. It was good to catch up with them, have chats and imagine that I was back in the townhouse for a little while. Everything they said, I could picture in my head: I saw Mel making pork chops for Momma's Mother's Day dinner, saw us watching P.S. I love you downstairs on the couch, while Momma rode her exercise bicycle, and saw Momma in her room doing her Sunday ironing and watching all of her shows that she recorded on TiVo. I saw it all as if I was right next to them.

I've got another counseling meeting coming up in the next week. It's with Lena this time, not Fran. Lena called me last week and wanted to schedule a time for me to come in and chat with her. At the time when she called me I was thinking, "I don't need these things anymore, I'm fine," although now when I think about it, it is probably good for me to go in every so often and clear my brain out. So far it hasn't done any harm to me, so I reckon it can only help me in the long run. She actually gave me her mobile number as well just in case "I needed to reach her." Kind of scary, but at the same time, nice to know that I have a counselor on called, heaven forbid I have a random mental break down in public; I can just reach for my phone, give her a ring, and she can help me stop hyperventilating without me even being in her office.

It's lazy days at the moment. While it is nice to not have any obligations or coursework weighing me down, I would like to get a steady schedule so I can have something to do during the day. There are only so many things I can do here at the flat or at my nearby parks, before I'll start getting irritated, before I start going mental. I want to work. I need to work. I'm ready to work. And in between working, you can find me sprawled out in a warm sun patch in some soft, green grass.

Posted by Sam at 10:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)
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We leave the windows open all day, despite the danger of wasps finding their way in, and most of the flower petals on the trees have fallen off and floated down from the trees with every leap from the squirrels on their branches. It feels like summer is creeping up on us in the city, and while it does feel...warm...it also feels new and hopeful. I'm excited. I'm curious. I'm anxious. And I'm going to be staying in London all summer.

I won't be going back to VA, not because of anything terrible. Momma and I haven't had a fall out; in fact, life with Momma has never been this good before. We just thought it would probably be better for everyone (and cheaper) if I stayed here, work and save my money, rather than go back and fluff around all summer. Mel will be coming back here for a few weeks, though, which will be nice. I'll be with Helen for the majority of the time, since Trish will eventually be going back home, Carlene will be heading back to her hometown, Zoe will be in Greece, and everyone else will be spreading out back to their homes. It'll be weird, I'm sure, but I guess everyone has to do it eventually - we can't always just go back home.

I think it'll be good for me as well, to sort everything out as far as my own finances go and state of mind. I can learn to get back on track by myself, without having to head back to the slow pace of life in VA whenever things get a bit rocky for me. I've got a good support system here, and I forgot that until my meeting with Fran this past week.

Yes, the counseling meeting went very well. I was a little skeptical at first, and even considered not going, just because it was raining, it was early, and I wasn't in the mood. But then I decided to put on my boots and head out anyway. You never know until you try, and don't knock it 'til you try it, as they say - whoever 'they' might be.

I arrived completely drenched from walking in the rain without an umbrella. I thought the hood on my jacket would be enough, but I was wrong. I was slightly early, but that was fine, and it gave me enough time to sort myself and dry off a little bit before Fran arrived, who was prepared for the cloudy weather with a massive umbrella in her hand.

We sat opposite each other in her quaint office and the door shut. I noticed a small table off to my left that only had a homely lamp and a box of tissues on it. I guess I wasn't the only one who might have cried behind the closed door.

She had a couple of forms resting in her lap and began by asking me general questions: what was my full name, my phone number, address and so forth. She then told me that she would be making notes throughout our conversation and asked me if I minded.

"No, no, I don't mind at all," I told her and smiled awkwardly. I wasn't entirely sure what to do, how to sit or what to say.

"Have you ever been here before, or ever had counseling before this?" she asked me.

"Um, nope. This is my first time," I said.

"Well, what were you expecting from this conversation?" she asked in her gentle voice.

"I guess just to get a better understanding of myself, and why I've been feeling the way I've been feeling recently."

"And how have you been feeling?"

"Like shit."

She laughed a little, and from there on out, our conversation flowed easily as if she were just one of the girls who occasionally made notes on the papers that rested in her lap. It was a simple thing to do - she asked me questions and I answered them. However, the questions she asked me were different from the ones that other people ask me, or the ones that I ask myself. They were more simple and direct, and to the point. It helped me put a lot of different things in perspective and made me realize different things about myself that I had briefly considered in my own time, but quickly shrugged off, because I was not dependent on other people; I did not take on other people's problems as my own; I did not over work myself. Those were definitely things I was not. But I was. Denial is a crazy thing.

There were a couple of moments when I thought that I might break down and cry, but I managed to swallow the lump that was in my throat and hold the waterworks back a few times. It was mostly when she asked me questions about Momma, and our relationship. I am a classic cliché who tends to have issues stemming straight from her mother. Go figure.

The meeting ended with us swapping different name's of author's whose books that we loved, and deciding that I don't need regular counseling. I'm a stable person with a good head on her shoulders, but I will be going back every few weeks just for check ups to see how I'm doing...in life. Although, I'll be seeing somebody else since Fran won't be here over the summer. A lady named, Lena, who she said that I'd probably really like and get on with.

I walked out and lit up a cigarette immediately, but felt good. Really good. Refreshed. Like a big weight had been lifted off of my chest and made me optimistic about things again. I felt like she had unearthed the old Sam that believes she can do things, and believes in herself. Yeah, I've been kicked down in the dumps, but I'm strong enough to pull myself up and out of this. I can do it, but I don't have to do it alone. I've got good, close friends here that I can rely on. I've got Momma and Mel back home, and I know I have my ladies here that I can count on, even if I don't tell them things straight away.

I know I've written a lot about how my second year has been shit and horrible, and how bad I've felt recently, but even though life has been a bit crap for me the second time round, I'm hopeful that I can turn things around this summer and kick off my last and final year on a good note. The entire time I've been here in London, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I do focus a lot more on the bad, than I do on the good, and I forget that even though I've been through some really shit times, I've always made it out on the other side a better and stronger person. I like to consider myself more of a city girl now, and I'm a lot more confident when it comes to me navigating my own way around the city. And if I do get lost, I'm positive that I'll always find my way back home. Hell, I seem to do it every time I'm drunk, and miraculously make it back with all of my belongings.

I've met incredible people that I'm sure I'll know for the rest of my life. I've learned how to interact with others, how to network my way around, learned new things about people and learned new things about myself. And every now and then, I have to be reminded about those things.

So while it would be nice to be back in VA, driving around, listening to music and eating food that I've been craving for months, it'll be good for me to stick it out here in good 'ole London Town, sorting myself out. I'm looking forward to that, and more importantly, I believe I can do it.

Posted by Sam at 12:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)
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I always thought that people who go to see therapists and counselors were pussies. God, can't they hack it on their own? Losers.

But then I moved away from home and discovered why people go to see counselors and have therapists - it's because life is shit.

Recently I've been feeling a bit down; not quite my usual, chipper self. I've kept to myself in my room, alone, with my earbuds securely in my ears and my music on LOUD to keep all outside distractions out. I've got a mountain of coursework due in (and some that I discovered was due in yesterday, which I haven't even started), and I thought if I locked myself in my room, I could knock it all out in about two days and not have anything else uni-related to worry about until September.

I learned that that doesn't work. Locking yourself in your room for two days is a very bad idea and everyone should steer far away from ever doing that. I'm here to tell you that you'll get absolutely nothing accomplished, except for many hours wasted away on facebook.

When I wasn't being a sick facebook user, I would sit and think, and think, and think, and over think some more. I cleaned. I stared out my window. I cried. Boy, did I cry.

Alone.

Because of everything. Because I was alone, and sad, and depressed, and homesick, and melodramatic, and angry, and frustrated, and every other disgusting emotion that I despise. And also because I had a zit on the side of my nose that was the size of Jupiter. If there was a reason for me to cry, I did.

The annoying thing is that I would cry for about a minute, and then I would force myself to stop. I hated that I was crying over nothing. Over stupid nothingness. I knew what was wrong, so why was I coming up with other reasons for why I was sad and crying? The list of The Real Reasons To Cry has been elbowing me in the ribs for months now, so much that I'm afraid there might be a permanent bruise.

But The Real Reasons To Cry are mentally tacked in the front of my brain.

- I have no money.
- I owe people money.
- I don't have a job.
- Therefore, no money is coming in.
- Which results in me still owing people money.
- I'm late on the rent.
- I can't help pay the bills.
- When was the last time I even put electric on?

As we can all see, my main problem has been lack of funds. That's all I've been thinking about, and it never goes away. I wake up in the morning, and there's this giant ten pound note sitting at the foot of my bed, looking at me, laughing at me, and smoking.

I'm not sure why he's smoking, but for some reason that seems significant.

And he talks to me. He tells me every day, "you're a poor motherfucker."

"I know!" I shout at him. Then I tear off my covers, steal his cigarette and smoke the rest of it whilst blowing smoke in his paper face.

Sometimes he follows me when I go up to uni. I'll ignore him for the most part, but his little coin friends are harder to ignore when they're jumping all around my feet, pointing and laughing at me. I hate them the most.

Aside from my own illusions, I have been trying to do things in order to better myself. While I do wish that a million pounds would fall out of the sky and into my hands, I realize that the chances of that happening are pretty slim to none. I've got that Simon guy looking for jobs for me, and I am helping out in the flat where I can. I do know that sitting in my room and crying isn't going to get anything done.

My mental state recently hasn't been the greatest though. I've shut down to everyone around me. I'm not sure if they've noticed or not (I tried to conceal it for the most part), but it has been consuming me. I just feel like I've been sinking and I'm finding it difficult in order to pull myself out of this...mood. Out of this rut. Out of this feeling.

So I made an appointment with our local counseling centre. I suppose I'm a pussy and a loser. Oh well, I don't care. This Wednesday at 10:30a.m. I'll be meeting with a lady named, Fran, to talk about my problems and what I can do to remedy them. And hopefully remedy that giant ten pound note and his pesky coin friends. It's not that I don't want to talk about it with everyone that I already know, but I just don't want to make it into a "thing." I don't want to have a huge Sammi Spectacle and have everyone listen to me whine about shit they've already heard a million times. I know they're my friends and they'd never say that, but at the same time, I'm sure they get tired of hearing me complain about it all the time; I get tired of it.

I'll probably cry in front of her, which I'm really not looking forward to. I have a serious issue with crying in front of strangers. It's embarrassing and uncomfortable. There you are, in a very vulnerable position, raw, exposed, and in front of someone you don't know. Nothing is worse for me.

But it needs to come out. I had a bit of a proper cry today with Helen when it was just us two in the flat. All of my feelings have just been laying right at the surface for the past couple of days, and the tiniest thing pushes me right over the edge. When I began to let the waterworks flow in front of Helen, we were in the lounge and she was talking about what she wanted for dinner.

"Perhaps I'll have a bowl of spinach," she said casually.

And I couldn't contain it anymore. All I thought was "who eats just spinach? Aside from Popeye?" and cried non-stop for at least a good twenty minutes on her shoulder. It felt good. Although I'm sure there's plenty more where it came from.

***

For those of you who love Dane Cook and really love to cry. Totally me, only not as funny, unfortunately.

Posted by Sam at 09:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
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I don't really give myself enough credit. I am so observant. Like, freakishly observant. I see everything whether I want to or not. I can see you on the outside, on the inside, and see right through you. I know things about what I see, and I see particular moments in time that are substantial and mean something. Then I can piece together those substantial moments and learn things about you, discover hidden meanings.

And those moments, those little moments that I see, I freeze them. I'll stop time, cup them in my hands and look at them while they stand still.

It's those moments that I feel, and know what lies ahead in the future. Things change. People change. Dynamics change. Circumstances change. Life really isn't that hard to understand if only you lay those moments out in front of you and see how everything is mapped out. You can easily connect the dots and learn that no, it's not a vicious cycle that goes round and round, but rather a straight line and will continue moving right along at a steady speed. We just like to confuse ourselves and muddle things up and convince ourselves otherwise; we were "caught up in the moment" or "life was just happening around us."

The thing about that steady, straight line, is that we can't reverse time. We can never pick out certain moments and go back to the way things used to be. We can't re-create a particular moment because once it's gone, it's gone. All we're left with is that lingering feeling of happiness, of comfort, of easiness, and wishing that things could be like that forever. People try, they try to re-create moments, but it's never the same. It's forced, it's fake and you're just left feeling uncomfortable, not happy.

All we can really do I suppose, is when we do have one of the pleasant and happy moments frozen inside of our hands, cherish it. Look at it, appreciate it and smile, because we're never really sure how long it'll last. And when it's gone, when the frozen exterior finally melts away and it has slipped through your fingers, accept that it's over and be happy that you were given that moment in the first place.

Posted by Sam at 07:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
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This month has been exceptional for music. Music for me, I suppose. If you're not into my kind of musical groove, then perhaps you would disagree when it comes to this month. Maybe you're having a musical dry spell? In which case, I can't really sympathize, because I've been having a musical dry spell for well over a year. Sure, I've bought some new music; Goldfrapp's new album, Seventh Tree, is amazing to say the least, and proves once again why they are one of my favorite bands ever. They expand their sound, whilst still at the same time stay true to their base foundation that makes all of their fans sit back, relax and slip into their happy place.

But this month in particular, I have purchased so many good albums that have been released, and the music notes make my ears smile; and it all coincides perfectly with this sunny weather that has recently been blessed upon London Town.

I first discovered French Kicks on the first of April. This band has been around for a while, however, they have transformed so much over the years, first coming out with a grainy, garage/punk sound. I'm not a big fan of it, but everybody has to start somewhere I suppose. These days, though, the band is chilled out, relaxed and it feels like I'm sitting in a jacuzzi with the bubbles wrapped all around me. I have listened to their newest album, Swimming, on repeat ever since; on the walk up to uni, on the walk back to uni, when I'm sitting in the kitchen, when I'm sitting in my room, when I'm smoking, when I'm getting ready....you get the point. And for some reason, they remind me of driving in my car back in VA during the fall. I'm not sure why, but I get vivid images of the colors brown, red, orange and gold.

On the same day, I discovered The Apples In Stereo. They are a bit more bouncy than French Kicks, but still have the occasional relaxed track. They're so funny and quirky and make me feel like I'm in a 50's television program, even with the random French song "Avril en Mai" (which is quite possibly the cutest song I've ever heard in another language). They make me happy and their sound is so catchy, you can't help but want to dance on the sidewalk whenever you stick in your earbuds and step outside. Their band has also been around for a while, but I've yet to purchase any of their previous albums...yet. I'll give my American Express a break before I go and abuse iTunes again.

The Submarines were next on my list, and I quickly bought both of their albums. They're from California, and maybe it's something in the air, but most bands that I hear from California, I love. They kind of remind me of The Hush Sound (who have also recently released another album), but unlike The Hush Sound, The Submarines are a lot less theatrical without the main presence of a piano. You can take The Submarines out in your back garden, sit quietly on a bench and just wait for all of the butterflies and ladybugs to come out and dance around the flowers. It's not just the sound either, but the actual lyrics that I love as well. There's not enough good things to say about them.

My next two albums, I'm completely over the moon about, because the first one, Shine, I've been waiting on for OVER A YEAR. I randomly discovered them on myspace before I discovered facebook. They are French and are absolutely mesmerizing. I obsessed over their songs that they had posted on their myspace, and have been waiting oh so impatiently for their album, The Common Station, to be released. Yesterday, when I was roaming the internet, I remembered about them and was pleasantly surprised that their album was available worldwide and I could purchase it from the comfort of my living room via iTunes (as always).

They're in London for one night only (tonight), and unfortunately, since I am poor and lame, I am unable to go. But that doesn't mean that I don't love every single song on their album. It was completely worth the wait, and for some reason all of the songs that are in French, I *heart* even more, just because they sound so heartbreakingly sweet. I can tell that this album is going to be one of the albums that everyone in the flat screams at me to "PLEASE TURN OFF. NO MORE FRENCH SONGS." But I won't. Why? BECAUSE THEY'RE JUST TOO DAMN GOOD.

And last, but certainly not least in the slightest, is The Weepies new album Hideaway. They're back from tour, married and have a wee little baby in tow. So many changes which means, so much new material to write and sing about! It is unmistakably The Weepies sound, and it only makes me want to listen to all of their albums back-to-back staring at a never ending sunset. I haven't had time to sit down and properly listen to it (I mean, the album did just come out today), but I can already tell that it's going to be one of my main albums that I relate back to summer in London, just like their previous two albums.

Needless to say, I'm going to be busy getting lost in a swimming pool of musical notes. I'll be surrounded by saxophones, violins, guitars, pianos, drums, keyboards and the sweet, soft, serenading voices of all of the above mentioned bands. I have a smorgasbord of new music and I'm not complaining in the slightest.

Posted by Sam at 01:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
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The two of them turned in a semi-circle and started north to leave the sunflower field. Peaches was so excited that she didn't even realize that she had walked slightly ahead in front of Henry.

"Hey now, wait up for me," he hollered to her.

"Sorry. I'm just a little excited."

"I'll say you are. So, are you sure you know how to get us out of these sunflowers?" he asked as they were walking side-by-side now.

"I'm pretty sure I do. My friend and I have walked out here a few times when our parents have had dinner parties. Her uncle is always telling us that this is the way to get onto the Main Road," she told him confidently, even if she was slightly unsure of herself.

"Well as long as you know where you're at."

The two of them walked along partially in silence, looking around at the unfamiliar territory that they were now exploring. The sun was shining brightly above them, but they didn't feel the spring weather heat underneath the shade provided by the giant sunflowers that still surrounded them. Everything seemed new and untouched to Peaches, and with every step she took, she could feel the excitement radiating throughout her.

They did make conversation though, and learned about each other. Henry told Peaches of his "brave escape" (or fall from the delivery truck), and Peaches told him about her small day-to-day experiences that he found very interesting, but that she thought was boring and mundane. With all of the talking that the two of them were doing, they didn't realize how much time had passed and eventually they found themselves on the Main Road.

It was a quiet two lane road that took the travelers by surprise. They weren't expecting to see the road so soon. Up a little ways ahead of them was an old country truck that was pulled over on the side with a flat tire. It appeared that Peaches journey was already over, even though she wasn't ready to turn around and go back home.

"Well dear Peaches, it has been fun, however, it looks like this is where I shall leave you. I lucked out as well with that truck up there for a ride," Henry said with a bit of sadness in his voice. He tried to sound chipper, but after having Peaches around as a travel friend, he had quickly grown fond of her. She was right as well, and was lovely to travel with.

"Already? That's it? That's my adventure? But we just went for a walk," Peaches said, feeling let down.

"Yes, but wasn't it an exciting walk?" Henry asked her, trying not to sound too patronizing.

"Well, it was nice walking with you, sure, but we didn't really see much else. I just thought that there would be a little more." Henry could hear the disappointment in her voice.

"You should probably head back now. You don't want your family wondering where you are. Thanks again for helping me out of the sunflowers. I couldn't have done it without you," Henry smiled and turned towards the blue truck that was getting ready to take him to his new, unknown destination. He hated to be so short with Peaches, but he never was good with goodbye's.

Henry was halfway down the road, leaving Peaches alone and dumbfounded. She couldn't believe that he had just left her on the side of the road to walk all the way back alone. That wasn't a walk in her mind. It was a rip off. And she wasn't impressed in the slightest.

She had an idea, and decided to hop along without Henry knowing. She figured she could be back before dinner time and nobody would even notice that she was gone. Well, they probably would, but she had to justify leaving in her mind to make her feel less guilty about leaving without telling anyone.

Without thinking or looking back, Peaches began to follow Henry and would surprise him once they were both on the truck. One way or another, she was going to get her adventure.

**

Quietly, she climbed up the back of the blue truck like how she watched Henry do it previously before her. She saw these green, plastic containers that were holding all of these different aluminum cans and decided that would be a good place to hide out until they started moving. Once the truck was en route, she'd surprise Henry and he wouldn't be able to make her go back after that. He'd have to let her stay with him.

While she was hiding out though, he heard something behind her.

"Psst. Hey. You there. The strawberry milkshake. How'd you get on here?" the squeaky voice said to her.

She turned around, but didn't see anything.

"Who said that?" Peaches said out loud to the unknown voice.

"Me, over here," a little hand was sticking out from one of the plastic crates and waving to Peaches.

She walked towards the case and saw that the voice was coming from an aluminum Pepsi Cola can.

"Hello," Peaches said to the stranger.

"Hey. How'd you get up here? You don't belong here," he said to her.

"I'm with a friend. Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Pete," he told her. "We're all here because we're going to the recycling center. But I've never seen you before. You weren't with the others when we all got picked up, and I'm sure I would have remembered you. Are you lost? The recycling center can be a pretty scary place. Not a place for a sweet, innocent milkshake like yourself," he said to her.

"No, I just climbed aboard with my friend - "

"Peaches!" Henry shouted to her.

"Henry!" she said smiling and excited.

"What are you doing here?' he asked her, but didn't seem as excited as she was.

"I was just explaining to this Pepsi can about our adventure," she told him innocently.

"You're supposed to be on your way back home!" he scolded, almost as if he was her father.

"I thought you'd be excited to see me."

"I am," he said. "But you shouldn't be here. You should be on your way back home."

"That's what I was going to tell her," Pete chimed in.

"Well, I'll go home when I'm ready." Peaches had put her foot down. She wasn't going to be told what to do, just because these two thought she was too delicate to brave the outside world. She was very capable of taking care of herself.

At that moment, the truck lurched forward and began to drive towards the recycling center.

"I supposed there really isn't any turning back now," Henry said.

***

To be continued...

Posted by Sam at 12:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
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