Naomi Kramer's Blog, page 6

Geordie

I'm Geordie. Bet you never thought you'd hear from me, hmmm? I'm the walk-on character in Linda's little death melodrama. God, I'll give her credit, she sure knows how to die with flair. It's not something you usually get much practice at, is it?

So, since you never got to know me before, let me give you a chance now. My real name's John, but no-one's called me that for years. Except Mum, but she – well, yes. Everyone knows me as Geordie. Why? No good reason, except that in a certain group in...

Men

 

Nothing.

No "I think you're kinda hot too".

No "Get lost, I'm trying to angst".

He lapses into silence, and stares at the sand for an hour. I leave, and get the briefest of waves and a slow "Bye". Cripes, I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some kind of answer out of him. But I didn't, I just left.

Now I'm sitting at home angsting about making an idiot out of myself – again. Geez, will I ever learn? Not only am I not appealing, he's clearly not – really, really not – interested...

Wondering

 

I don't really miss having a dad, you know? Although sometimes I'd love to what he was like, what he did in his spare time – because maybe it'd help me understand me. But then I look around me at all the confused, clueless kids, and I figure maybe it wouldn't help a whole lot.

It's just – Mum and I are different, right? Different personalities, different reactions to the same things. I don't really get her. And sometimes it'd be nice to be able to say, "Oh, I'm like Dad in that" instead of...

Character Attack

The character struggled, swore, and eventually climbed his way out of my manuscript.

"YOU!" he yelled.

I sighed. This was going to be one of those writing days.

"You – arsehole!" he yelled at me.

"Hi, Les," I said, trying to act as though I hadn't heard the abuse.

"Don't patronise me, you towering, festering heap of dogshit!"

Maybe I shouldn't have given him such a way with words.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Did I mention that the right side of his face is a weeping old burn that's...

Second Impressions

 

The Sunday after my embarrassing encounter, I'm sitting in church and trying desperately not to yawn through the sermon. Then I catch sight of something that fixes the yawns right up. Over the other side of the church, in the very front pew, is Mark. Mr Let-Me-Pretend-I'm-Manly. Paying attention, and NOT yawning. My stranger with a sense of humour is stalking me?

After church, Mrs Catrick pulls him straight over to me and starts to introduce us.

"Don't worry, Auntie, we've already met." he...

Is Alice Cooper My Dad?

 

I think there's somethin' crazy goin on in your head behind your eyes…

"Hey Mum – some of this old stuff aint too bad, ya know…"

"Oh, Lord, what are you listening to now, child?"

"Umm… Baby Animals? Cute and fluffy, huh?"

She snorts and wanders off. I put the headphones on and keep ripping her CDs to mp3.

"You know," she says over dinner, "We thought some of that stuff was Satanic when I was younger – Alice Cooper, Meatloaf, Poison… I never could let go of their CDs, though, when I joined the...

Sex in Church

"Why avoid sex before marriage?"

"Because God wants us to have sex only with people we're married to?"

"And we get this from?"

"Don't commit adultery."

"What's adultery?"

"Sex with a married person not your spouse."

"Am I the only one who sees a flaw in that logic?" I demand, sitting up.

"Oi!" protests Mark. His head had been resting on my stomach.

Then Mark sits up too, and looks hard at me.

"What's with the sudden fascination with sex?" he asks.

"I'm a teen," I say, getting embarrassed because – I...

Don't Talk to Yourself

Trent sighed. Psychotic marsupials, a mystery virus, and a dead little girl.

"Why me?" he asked the wall.

"Because you're too stupid to say no?" Larsson walked into the office, grinning.

"Thanks. Your confidence in me is overwhelming!" Trent said.

Larsson sat down on one of the lounge chairs – still more gingerly than most people would, Trent noticed. He put his feet up on the coffee table and looked appealingly at Trent.

"Does your hospitality extend to making coffee for an invalid?" he...

Chocolate

Jessie woke up feeling good. She froze, unaccustomed to the feeling and panicked that it would go away. The light shining in her window didn't stab through her eyes into her brain. Her body wasn't full of aches and pains screaming for her attention like a bunch of kids in the back seat of mummy's car. She lay still and basked in the warm glow of restedness.

A few peaceful minutes later, she started gingerly moving fingers and toes, then whole limbs. They were stiff and a little achey, but a...

Messed Up

 

The next morning, I stare at my cereal and wonder if I can convince Mum I'm too sick for school. I'm in the middle of dragging a spoonful into my mouth when I hear a tap on the kitchen window. I look up – it's Mark, and he's grinning at me and beckoning me outside.

"A minute!" I mouth at him.

I bolt my brekkie, run to my bedroom, chuck on a clean uniform, and race down the hall and outside.

"Geez, took you long enough!" he says, smiling, "Come on, let's get walking!"

"Walk all the way?"

He...