Tuesday, July 15, 2008

From the Homeland to the Promised Land

Here’s a dilemma for you, your sibling is going to marry a drug addict...have I got your attention now?

Things aren’t like they once were in the old country. My sisters and I weren’t raised in the traditional fashion, not since we moved to America.

We were all born here in Missouri but have made several trips back to the homeland and my father was born there. So is my grandfather, on my mom’s side.

We weren’t raised to stand by while our men ate around the dinner table, waiting to serve them their next course. We also weren’t raised to a life of servitude to our men as was our previous generations. I’ve heard it actually still happens here where Mexicans & Latinos make up the majority in some communities.

The Matriarch of our family has been and continues to be my mother. My father is the main breadwinner and has the final say in all matters.

Most of the time they agree on everything, especially when it came to raising us. However, it’s fun to watch them go at each other from time to time about minuscule issues like what to eat for dinner.

My mom used to tell me stories about how my father was raised and how my Abuelita differed from my other grandmother in their dealings with we girls.

It used to keep us talking for hours. It still does, who am I kidding? My father takes it all in stride, like water off a duck’s back. He’s the pack rat in our family and never throws anything away. Our driveway looks like a used car lot, or better yet, a salvage yard for ancient cars!

They made it a point to give us all the things they never had growing up. My father had to get a job and pay the bills when he was only 12 years old in Mexico. My mother was sent away to live with her grandparents for 8 years and felt like an outcast to her siblings once she returned at age 14.

It’s been a tough road for our parents, especially raising three out of control “locas” who can’t imagine life in Mexico after all this spoiling going on in America!

Gracias Mama y Papa, te amo mucho!

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

FEATURED FICTION: Immersion Escape

“We’re tracking two more, sir.” My twin ensign informed me; interrupting my perusal of the documents I was assigned to memorize.

“That makes seven of the pristine beauties escaping.

“I have two more,” My triplet confirmed. “That’s nine in all, sir.”

Inside the dimly lit citadel, orange and red emergency lights glowed against opaque control panels it had become my onus duty to command. After my genuflectual mannerism to the Colonel of Centurion Arms agoged His Majesty’s courting daughter, he placed me on this rock as a test for her hand. Frankly, they should have asked me if I was at least interested. Now, I’m forced to reassess my Colonel for reassignment, as I’m sure His Majesty will be disgruntled at my Prithee NOT to be wed to his daughter.

“They’ve reached the South Rim.” My triplet announced behind me.

“Heading for the prisoner shuttles.” I commented, like a good commanding officer; let them know you’re in control, even when you’re not. “Shanghai!” I exuded with glee, “Who’s responsible for this archaic machinery?” As all eyes found me, amicably enough, in my fit of fugleman tyranny I yelled, “Why can’t I stop the ships from launching?”

“Communications are down, sir.” My triplet said, “We can’t stop the timer settings they’re connected to either-”

A trotting of what sounded like hooves and combat boots filled the corridor behind us, officer’s quibble, no doubt.

“Do we go after them, sir?” The first ensign asked.

“No. It’s out of our hands now. The night guards will shoot to kill.” I replied. If they wanted to run, let them suffer the same fate free men would face on Earth.

“Commander Mikah!” Another voice entered the room with a different face. The egocentric lieutenant I sent to check the escapees’ cells. Of course, he may be the one to sop around here for a good mark with my Colonel’s decision to reassign me.

“Sir, they put goats and chickens in their cells with their tracking implants tied to them. They made their escape after breakfast merrymaking.”

“And this, sir,” A second lieutenant, identical to the first (the original, I knew), brought forth a milky white snake with blood red eyes. The creature glared at me with familiar eyes; recognizing me from when I made tasty noshes of his brethren. “This was in the cell of our immortal. The healer.” He groused.

“The one His Majesty covets? Isabal?” I knew it was her; yet I don’t believe she would...betray us. “Hornswaggled, eh?”

“Yes, sir. She malingered this morning at breakfast merrymaking.”

“Catch her! Find her! I want her back alive!” I pounded the control counter before me with a leather gloved fist. The video monitors lining the walls of the room stared back at me, dark and uncaring. The officers behind me backtracked down the corridor, leaving loquacious squeals and twaddle-some heckles as their furry and feathered prisoners were herded away.

“Commander, the shuttles are away.”

“Land them! Ground them all!” I yelled back at the wet blanket; I knew we couldn’t, she’d gotten away. This SNAFU may cost me a rank. Blast the witch!

“I can’t, sir. They’ve gone.” My twin clone sputtered.

“I can see that, you ninny!” I considered a tête-à-tête with this one after lunch merrymaking.

“Prepare my ship, get after them!” I turned a twisted snarl at him as he hurried out of the room with my triplet. “I want to leave in five minutes.” I finished.

Stealthily turning to the awakening monitors snowy screens, her ghoulish name escaped my reluctant lips, “Isa.”

Isabal stared out the hatch that narrowly missed crushing her moments ago, watching the muddy brown complex disappear within a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes from the ship she stowed upon. Heir Mikah would be displeased with my betrayal of His Majesty as he had cared for me himself, when no one else would. Only his obtusely fetid henchmen would lose their dolce vitas on PRONE. Feeding off the pristine concubines they’re surrounded with, their soft nature’s rubbing off onto soldier’s in the King’s royal army...His Majesty would never be caught dead in a sarong!

BACKGROUND: I belonged to a Word of the Day Club at a former employers with about eight other gals and we had a list of words compiled over a few weeks that I decided to immerse into a story I wanted to write at the time. It's not my best, but it was an awful lot of fun to write!

emginc

May I Introduce Myself?

I am the Twisted Muse and my purpose is simple: to entertain, amuse, and inspire you.

My inspiration may serve to awaken the creative spirit within each one of you for further discovery of self. I may also propel you toward making your own dreams come true.

Together we will explore new and unexpected ways to view what may have become our ho-hum existence.

Perhaps we will find a common ground between our daily anxieties and hidden fears so we can begin living the life we’ve always wanted.

My pages are filled with exclusive works of fiction by first time writers in our own backyard. We accept freelance submissions from readers and writers in our own area for your pleasure.

Personal essays, poems, comic strips, and inspirational articles are included.

My twisted humor obeys no boundaries and distinguish my pages from most other publications.

Featured columns in each issue offer endless tidbits and surprisingly useful advice on everything from parenting, to pet care, to questions from other readers just like you.

There are cultural topics explored and strategies for surviving multicultural family life.

My creator would like to advise you that reading beyond this point will be at your own risk. Your risk of corruption by life’s twisted nature clashing with its logical interpretations is far greater now that you know my true intentions.

In the end, our journey together will serve to bring a heightened awareness to the current life you live. To wring the dull, boring days right out of your misery with bare, gritty hands until you have no choice but to succumb to me...

Uh-hem. So please, find a comfortable place to relax, put up your feet, and open my pages to experience the irrefutable candor manifest in the

Twisted Muse.

Soon to be a Minizeen Publication: Where there’s a little taste of something for everyone.

*Published by EMGinc.com

Welcome Southwest High School Alumni !!

That's right, this is your New Online Twisted Newsletter Publication Blog for your eMusement!

We will be publishing short stories, articles, tips, tricks, advice, answering emails and comments to any of our posts. Including articles, short stories, and art submissions from local talent in our Alma Mater's hometown of Kansas City, Missouri. Keeping you abreast of OUR beloved Southwest High School in KCMO is our top priority.

Postings will be sporadic at times and flow without an end in sight other times. We will occasionally have some Shameless Advertising links for fellow Alumni who are operating their own businesses via internet or up-close and personal. Blaze will be conducting interviews with as many members as wish to be interviewed and share their stories, memories, and pictures associated with their experiences at Southwest High School in Kansas City, MO.

Please do not hesitate to contact us with any and all publication inquiries, art submissions, ideas for improvement, comments or questions, and article submissions. I, Blaze, am your fearless leader in the fight to save our high school's memory as it has been deserted and stored away from the former students, teachers, and staff who reminisce about the good 'ole days at Southwest High School.

We are currently leading an ambitious campaign to contact the Kansas City Public School District in order to form an Actual Legal Alumni Association with copyright, ownership license, trademarks, and recognized by the State!

Yours Truly and Ever Sincere,
Elisa Mendoza Gilliland, President
20-Year Class of '89 Reunion Committee

*Scheduled for August 2009