Michelle's Journal

The following story is fan fiction.  The disclaimer below is borrowed from , dreamsinfiction, who has perfectly described what fan fiction is (and isn't) on her journal.  (Also - be sure to check out her extensive body of well-written fan fic while there!)  I'm also proud to say the story has been accepted by the moderator and posted  on the Gram Parsons Project Board at the No Depression: Americana and Roots Music web site.  http://www.nodepression.com/group/gramparsonsprojectBB/forum/topics/gram-fan-fic
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DISCLAIMER: The characters herein are intellectual property of the author's of the fictional work. The characters depicted are loosely based on individuals to which they are the namesake. The characters are in no way, shape or form claiming to be a true and accurate representation of said individuals whom they are depicting. The author does not claim to be persons depicted in the works of fiction living or deceased. The author does not claim to know personally any of the characters living or deceased.
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Anyway, enjoy . . .

 May Be the Last Time

Vraaaah.  From the lawn chair on the patio, tucked behind a stucco wall and overlooking a small stagnant pool, he was not disturbed by the familiar sound of the sliding glass door as it opened.  The sun was equally stagnant, directly opposite the pool but high, high above, creating a bright stain on the dead calm of the pool’s glassy surface.  Draped over him was a hand-knit scarf, a muffler with carefully chosen colors, oblivious to how out-of-place it was in the midday heat.  As he lay, the red glow behind his eyelids was suddenly blackened by a shadow, a presence, shielding him from the sun’s assault, creating a cool respite.  Something was holding him, encircling his wrist, a firm grip, causing his pulse to quicken as he felt its pressure on his skin, the pressure of . . . what . . . what . . . then the touch of a hand on his cheek, simultaneously rough and smooth, stroking his hair with the familiarity of a thousand-year-old friendship, and the smell of stale ash replaced the smoggy chlorine stench which always surrounded the ground by the pool--

When their car arrived, the sun was already setting into the flat murky pinkness which seemed to stretch forever beyond the balconies and wrought iron railings and shuttered windows of the antebellum mansion. The car had come from even further beyond, traversing the endless wet flatness, that expanse of life hidden from view by the thick black Louisiana swamp, and before that, the hilly empty dustiness of America, and before that, the embracing lights and warmth of Los Angeles, to deliver its cargo here. Here, into this labyrinth of balconies and wrought iron, and into the antebellum mansion itself, with its French doors, which were open to reveal a dining room table that delicately rested on a large open patio. The table was waiting. It had been exquisitely adorned by the servants that afternoon, and now was brimming with Bob’s Cajun-flavored creations in anticipation of the car’s arrival. 
 

Hey Hey.  It's finally spring in Chicago.  Just got back from a big road trip.  Went up to Minneapolis to visit my mom and sister and my adorable four year old niece.  We also saw a bunch of old friends.  Then drove all the way down to Knoxville to visit Rob's parents.  We cleaned out one of our storage units (we had accumulated so much crap in Florida that we had TWO storage units) and had a massive garage sale.  Feels so good to get rid of stuff!  We had kept some ridiculous things (a sno-cone maker?!), and we didn't make enough money in the garage sale to cover the cost of storing all those things for the past 2 1/2 years.  Pointless!  Should have thrown everything out.  Next time I'll know better.  

But the best part of the trip was just being in a car again.  I miss that freedom.  Even driving across flat boring Indiana was fun.  I wanted to keep going, and just drive drive drive, all the way out west.  I barely get to travel any more for work either.  :-(  Going stir crazy. 

Otherwise, just sick of hearing the hype about swine flu.  The media has cried wolf one too many times with these supposed pandemics. 

Oh, I wanted to elaborate on seeing our 'old friends' in Minneapolis.  Several of these people we hadn't seen in about 10 years.  Somehow it reminded me of attending a class reunion, where you get this 'snap shot' of how everyone 'turned out.'  It was sad to see some of our friends are still exactly as they were in their early 20s - drinking too much beer, playing in heavy metal bands, jumping from relationship to relationship, but now they are gaining weight and going gray.  

Haven't done much else.  I want to go see The Soloist, but I keep reading bad reviews.  Enjoying season 2 of Breaking Bad.  I'm falling in love with the Jesse character.  

Not much else.