Eccentric Tea Woman

Our dishwasher is not working properly but then again, maybe it's on strike. We don't exactly treat it nicely, especially when we slam our dishes into its waiting mouth so they can be cleaned and santized without us having to do the job ourselves. Several days ago, the dishwasher heated up the dishes but nothing else, so we called our rental company to make an appointment for someone to take a look at it. In the meantime, we have handwashed all of our dishes. I can't speak for my boyfriend, but I actually like completing the task. Whenever I clean a part of the house, I like to make sure that I do a thorough job. I don't like cutting corners unless if I'm tired or I'm getting hungry. When it comes to washing our dishes, I feel as though every item that now sits in our dish rack has been taken care of well. It's not a matter of just letting a machine do it without any thought, but now a matter of seeing just how many dishes we get dirty. Do we really need to

She told me her name was Eleanor and I asked if her parents named her after that famous song. She looked at me like I was crazy, only to smile and say - yeah, I was named after that song. Seems they had sex one night while listening to that entire album and then nine months later, I showed up. I raised my cup of coffee to her in salute to a great story about where she came from. I then asked her if she was lonely like her. Eleanor looked at me strangely, then shrugged and went silent. I finished my coffee, placed a tip on the table, then stood up and stretched my arms. She looked at me with now imploring eyes and I couldn't help but wonder if she wanted me to finish her story and tell it to the world. Instead, I smiled and waved goodbye, then left the coffeehouse and walked on. I could feel her staring at me, wondering if perhaps I would return to that table with stale gum underneath it and ask her more questions. I wanted to get home because I could feel the tears coming upon me.

  For many years, I craved for someone to acknowledge me. Someone far away to validate my existence. Yeah I know - that wasn't a smart idea to have but at the time, I was desperate for a myriad of reasons. I was tired of being this black girl who had a speech impediment and was shy. I was tired of being told that I wasn't a typical black girl: how dare I want to read, speak correct English, write in a journal, etc.? I wanted to be seen. As time wore on, I was acknowledged by people and they gave me crumbs. These people were manipulative and controlling and even though I disliked what I allowed them to do to me, I was still grateful that I received their crumbs. Many years later, I decided that I was worth the work to better my life. I began to heal my body, mind, and soul and soon, I realized that the crumbs I so graciously received were just that - CRUMBS. As I bettered myself, I understood that crumbs came from delicious warm loaves of bread. There were many kinds of bread as

  It was over. She stared at the silent phone in her hands and couldn't believe it. He had dumped her because, well, she didn't exactly know why he had dumped her, only that he was no longer her boyfriend. She placed the phone in the passenger seat of her car as she remained in the driver's seat, staring ahead at nothing. What was it he had told her? Oh yes - that it wasn't her but him, that he was walking away, and that he was sorry. She touched her face; still no tears, she thought. Damn. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and then, strangely enough, smiled a warm smile. She smiled because today was the day that she told herself - NO MORE. No more allowing people to walk all over her. No more allowing yet another loser to waltz into her life, only to disappear when they couldn't handle a relationship longer than three months. No more doubting herself. No more holding herself back. No more chasing everything and everyone with more than a dash of desperation. NO MORE.

  Jack arrived at the beer house, ready to indulge in his weekly two beers. He got out of his Jeep, grabbed his journal and latest read, and walked inside the small yet lively place. Several people were seated at the tables with their various choices of beer, and Jack already knew that today was going to be a fantastic day. He sauntered up to the counter to place his order - a lively IPA with hints of lime and hibiscus - then carried his glass to the patio area outside. He sat down at one of the wooden picnic tables, placed his items in rigid order on the table, and glanced around at the other patrons. He allowed himself a small smile, knowing that today, oh yes today, would be the day for him. Today, he would finally get the courage to speak to someone, preferably a woman. He sipped his cold IPA and frowned a little; perhaps he needed some chips as well. Jack stared longingly at the interior of the establishment, knowing that it wouldn't take him long to procure a bag of locally m

  I woke up and knew that everything had changed. I glanced around as I yawned and stretched, seeing the leftover results from last night's party all over the floor. Yes, I thought with a smile, it was a fun time. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet on the hardwood floor, ensuring that I wouldn't topple over when I stood up. I stood up. I placed my hands on my hips. I grinned. I entered the living room and noticed a sleeping form on my couch. The figure gave a loud snore, and I realized who it was. I kicked the figure lightly, then stood back as Paul rolled over and yawned loudly. My mouth tastes terrible , he groaned as he focused his bloodshot eyes on me. Did you just kick me? Time for you to leave , I replied in a sincere tone. It was a lot of fun last night, but I need to get ready for work. Paul sat up and scratched under his armpits, reminding me of a bear, then replied - got any matches? He began to pat down his rumpled shirt, then noticed a ma