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  • ContactRida 3:10 pm on June 27, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , parable   

    MY HOME! 

    Awenasa pleaded, “Father, tell me the story again.”

    “It is late child,” he hushed, “but if you promise to –.“

    Awenasa bounced into bed gleefully, “I promise Father to offer seven blessings to the Great Buffalo Spirit!”

    Father acquiesced, “Many millennia ago, when Earthlings consumed their resources, the Great Plague consumed the planet killing almost all life. What remained was the Tree of Life. From it sprung true evolution of all which had been denied freedom and dignity in the yester-years. From this new life, came a new people who blessed their planet with what Cherokee name?”

    “Awenasa!” she burst with triumph.

    “And what does that mean child?”

    “My home, Father. It means, My Home!”

    Tree of Life

    photo credit: Madison Woods

  • ContactRida 7:06 am on June 23, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: ,   

    what’s your sign? 

    “I see sea levels rising, glaciers retreating, and unprecedented weather events. This is not propaganda created by extreme Left lobbyists. These are irrefutable, unquestionable signs. Mother Earth has had enough! When will you see the same? I wonder Senator, what’s your sign?”

    photo credit: http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=free+pics+of+climate+change&qpvt=free+pics+of+climate+change&FORM=IGRE&id=831DA474957EF58EDF0A88D8D3DFC368D4191ECB&selectedIndex=0#view=detail&id=831DA474957EF58EDF0A88D8D3DFC368D4191ECB&selectedIndex=0


  • ContactRida 6:59 pm on June 19, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: ,   

    mirror mirror 

    “You’re embarking on a yearlong round-the-world adventure, and can take only one small object with you to remind you of home. What do you bring along for the trip?”

    I would take a mirror, for every time I gazed into it, I would see all I had been.

    Everything I have experienced is visible in my eyes.

    Home is not a physical place.

    Home is where my spirit soars.

    mirror mirror

    photo credit: http://theactuatingcause.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/mirror-holding.jpg


  • ContactRida 1:39 pm on June 18, 2014 Permalink | Reply

    just a little bit to the left 

    John surveyed the house. Shaking his head at the exposed frames he said, “This is no fixer-upper, Rida. It’s a total gut!”
    “But I love it.” I swooned.
    “You’re just like Deb. Finds her diamond in the rough and gets me to make it shine. My best advice: pass on this money pit.”
    My eyes lingered on his towering frame and dark Sicilian skin. He was all I wanted in a man.
    “Watch yourself. The floor over there is about to give.” he cautioned.
    “I should get your wife’s opinion,” I said, knowing exactly where I would have Deb stand.


    photo credit: Mary Shipman

  • ContactRida 2:58 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

    hope you guess my name 

    Lucian believed people spoke and acted on one wave-length, but their true intentions had a different vibration that only he could sense.

    Mary lived across the street. She was always cordial but he knew she abhorred him by the way she coiled her hair around her fingers whenever they spoke. That was his invitation.

    She returned home at 3am to find him struggling with packages, “Need a hand Lucian?” “Thanks Mary.” Upstairs she saw the chair and tools. Then she saw nothing.

    She awoke strapped in the chair, mouth clamped open. With scalpel in hand, Lucian whispered, “Speak no evil.”

    sympathy for devil

    photo credit: Ted Strutz

    • Sarah Ann 1:21 pm on June 16, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      I don’t know where Lucian learned to read body language, but I think he might need to go back to school. Nice grusome take on the prompt.

    • aliciajamtaas 2:02 pm on June 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Whoa, creepy neighbor. Love the reference in the title – it’s one of my favorite songs.

    • lingeringvisions by Dawn 6:49 am on June 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Wow, what a sicko!

    • patriciaruthsusan 5:01 am on June 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Rida, Nothing like living near a psycho. O_o I’m not familiar with the reference to “knowing his name” so I’m no doubt missing something. Good story and well written. 🙂 —Susan

      • ContactRida 9:41 am on June 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you Susan:) Lucian means light but it also can be a version of Lucifer; the title is from the Rolling Stones “Sympathy for the Devil” song. in it Mick sings,

        “Pleased to meet you
        Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
        But what’s confusing you
        Is just the nature of my game

        Just as every cop is a criminal
        And all the sinners saints
        As heads is tails
        Just call me Lucifer
        ‘Cause I’m in need of some restraint

        So if you meet me
        Have some courtesy
        Have some sympathy, and some taste
        Use all your well-learned politesse
        Or I’ll lay your soul to waste, mm yeah
        (Woo woo, woo woo)

        Pleased to meet you
        Hope you guessed my name,

        Read more: Rolling Stones – Sympathy For The Devil Lyrics | MetroLyrics

    • Amy Reese 12:07 am on June 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Ooh, creepy one! Splendid writing. I feel the door shutting and there’s no escape.

    • Shandra 10:54 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Creepy and grizzly. Wow. Looks as if there’s no way out this time.

    • draliman 8:54 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      This would make a great “Criminal Minds” episode!

    • rochellewisoff 5:49 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida,

      There’s something that goes beyond creepy when it comes to torture via dentistry. My lips are sealed. Well done.



    • dmmacilroy 5:49 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida,

      Perfect title, story and song. Well done and thank you.



    • Björn Rudberg (brudberg) 3:04 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      What a grizzly character – love the way you describe the coiling of the hair.. I hope she has a trick up her sleeve

      • ContactRida 3:15 am on June 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you Bjorn… but unfortunately, she guessed his name too late.

  • ContactRida 3:21 am on June 9, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: 42 word story,   

    pot calling the kettle 

    Grace was a whore. Her legs never closed and neither did her mouth. When she saw me hugging Spencer at the WordCamp after party, she whispered to her friend, “Skank.” Then I heard she snorted, “Those black chicks just give it away.”


    photo credit: http://www.visualphotos.com/photo/2×3934134/women_gossiping_next_to_co-worker_42-19078527.jpg

  • ContactRida 2:10 am on June 9, 2014 Permalink | Reply

    WordCamp Philly 2014 – AWESOME! 

    This weekend ends WordCamp Philadelphia. It was a mind-blowing two days, well one day, since Sunday was for Developers and I am a baby User, so I didn’t attend. But otherwise I learned so much about WordPress and that there is a .Com and a .Org, but don’t ask me to explain the difference because I don’t remember, only that .Org has over 30,000 themes, I think.

    One thing that stood out was the average age of the attendees. I thought there’d be so many freaking hipsters there that I would have to go on an ice pick stabbing spree. But the average person was about 35-40 with a fair number of women. And people seemed to come in pairs or groups. Yes, that’s more than one thing that stood out.

    I stayed to myself mostly. I did eat lunch at a sushi cafe with another attendee named Paul. And I did get great hands-on help with my site from two techies, one named Spencer,

    who registered me on Instagram, and the other who gave me great ideas on ecommerce (sorry, forgot his name).

    I did not attend the after-parties. I did not sleep the night before: I worked Thursday night and the computers went down for scheduled maintenance; therefore, I had to stay late to put in patient data, plus there was a code (patient not breathing) and the fire alarm went off but no one could find the fire. I left work at 9am, then drove my car to the dealership without an appointment. My inspection expired on the 1st and the Check Engine light was on yet again (a $500 fix last time due to some off firing spark plugs). Long story short, it cost $200 (loose gas cap) this time but I didn’t get the sticker since the mechanic said I had to drive it awhile to make sure the light didn’t reappear (too late- it already did). Then I went pet grocery shopping and ended up buying a starter 5 gallon fish tank -WTF?!- yeah I know- and did you know you have to wait several days to get fish? I have to bring them a sample of my tank water so they can go all CSI and approve my tank habitable for fish which can only be 2-3 since my tank is so small.

    OK. So what does any of that have to do with WordCamp and not attending the after parties? Well, because I wasted my entire day getting the car (not) fixed and tending to the pets at my mother’s, when I finally got home I decided to see the first showing of X-men on Friday morning. Bad idea, since after that, I went grocery then beauty supply shopping. Then it took me all night to braid my hair and by the time I finished, it was 7am Saturday morning!

    So I did not go to the after parties because I could not keep my eyes open. I would not have had a good time any way because I was expecting to meet my one true love (not really) by really. So when I expect to meet a man, I never do, so I knew I had effectively cock-blocked myself. And that Spencer guy was oh so very fuckable…

    Sooooooooo, I would encourage everyone to attend a WordCamp. They are very informational and interactive. They will send you in so many different and amazing directions and help get your site/blog to that next level.

    ps: this is why i now only write once or twice a week. because this is the shit that comes out of my brain. just these bat-shit crazy ramblings that mean nothing to anyone but my insanely self-absorbed self. which is why i do so well with word restrictive writing. i suffer from a rare form of writer’s block: there is too much shit in my brain competing for attention that i can’t decide what to fucking put down on paper. picture the Three Stooges all at once, trying to get through a narrow door opening. that’s my brain. and probably yours too if you made it this far:)


    photo credit: http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/de/e0/65/dee0653cb90fa2f68b3fb530254dd3dd.jpg

  • ContactRida 7:11 am on June 6, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , treason   

    den of snow and lies 

    The kids teased and bullied Eddie relentlessly, “Hey snow miser!” He only fueled their taunts by being a geeky loner who wrote code like it were nursery rhymes. MIT offered a full scholarship. Finally he could escape his hometown, but memories of his high school years lingered and festered deep within him.

    The CIA approached him after graduation, then the NSA. He would later discover anomalies, hidden budgets, and multi-layered investigations. He had the power to make everyone listen to him and respect him now. He only had to press, “Send All.” Snow miser no more. He would become legend.


    photo credit: Douglas M. MacIlroy


    • aliciajamtaas 1:20 pm on June 9, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Well done. May Edward choose the right bath.

    • patriciaruthsusan 8:28 am on June 9, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Rida, Good story. I hope all the computer geniuses don’t want to get revenge on someone. Many would be in trouble. Interesting and well written. 🙂 —Susan

    • Nan Falkner 3:56 am on June 9, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida, Revenge is sweet as long as it’s done with decent intentions. Like, you wouldn’t want to blow up the world, just to get back at some people, maybe something small would work better. Good story though! Nan 🙂

    • dmmacilroy 1:32 am on June 8, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida,

      Den of Snow and Lies (great title) was one of the more ‘out of the box’ stories this week. Multi-layered and crisp, it flowed well and was a pleasure to read. Well done.



    • rochellewisoff 7:27 am on June 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida,

      Oh dear. Revenge is a dish best served via the internet. Love it.



    • wmqcolby 6:19 am on June 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Sharp, SHARP! Good crisp writing, as usual. Great!

      I have a feeling D.B. Cooper would do well with YOU writing about him. Just a thought …

    • patrickprinsloo 5:24 pm on June 6, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Clever one. Great topicality. May the debate begin!!

    • Jessie Ansons 8:27 am on June 6, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      A lovely story of rising above! I could picture him sitting there in his slippers about to hit ‘send all’.

  • ContactRida 2:13 am on June 6, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: ,   

    tragedy doesn’t always make you stronger 

    Motor lodge inn, their refuge now.

    Tree’d-in forest of cinder blocked homes.

    Eggs and bacon are now luxuries.

    Water comes through duck taped hoses.

    Laughter in short supply these days.

    Yellowed memories of better times linger.



    photo credit: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rA2Xl3mXsyI/Uj0_DqGeYAI/AAAAAAAAGVU/pSm109oeBmc/s1600/8268483513_d7163ff558_k.jpg%5B/embed%5D

  • ContactRida 6:00 am on June 1, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , invention   

    open letter to Professor Rogers 

    When I woke up on Friday, you did not exist. My world seemed large, my opportunities seemed limitless. I woke up and all was possible. I had just finished my shift. I was more than ever convinced bedside nursing was not for me. Long term care has become a last stop for unmanageable mentally ill patients, from Alzheimer’s to schizophrenia. It’s become increasingly hard to notice a change in condition when the baseline is always manic.

    Now was the time to start working on my invention. I had seen too many patients with red streaks on their arms from the blood pressure cuff; heard too many complaints that the cuff hurts; wasted so much time getting vitals on patients because there’s only one machine and it constantly malfunctions. “This can’t be the state of healthcare in America,” I thought.

    I thought about something that could measure vitals without the bruises, without the pain, without the wait. A patch. A vitals check patch. OK. I named it. I conquered the first few steps of an idea. The next step: run a search to see if it already exists. That step took weeks because I didn’t want to know. Didn’t want all of my dreams dashed. Didn’t want to know I had missed the boat again.

    So Friday I searched. Friday I found you. Ever get that sinking feeling in your stomach when an elevator first takes off? Multiply that by 100. That’s what I felt: gutted. And it’s not like you beat me by a few weeks. You beat me by several years. And just like that, my world became small again, I became nobody, just another working stiff embodying the words of a Paul Simon song, slip slidin’ away.

    Why should you care? Why should I, out of the tens of thousands who contact you, be relevant? I can’t answer that for you. I can only tell you that this was going to be ‘it’ for me. A product of rape, coming from poverty, winning a four year scholarship, getting a degree in Political Science, then Law, practicing as a criminal defense attorney for a year, quitting, becoming a massage therapist, then completing an accelerated 12 month nursing program to achieve my BSN and now working on my Masters to become a FNP, and most likely getting my Doctorate in Nursing before I die, plus taking violin lessons and learning French this summer, why should I be relevant to you?

    I have no engineering background, no mathematical genius. Business acumen? Perhaps. Being knee deep in healthcare does give me an advantage, an insight your developers may not have. But this is what I know to be true: on Friday you did not exist. Today you do. But today, you now know I exist. I can’t help but believe that makes me somewhat relevant to you.


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