Category Archives: Fiction

2:00 a.m. Confessions Of An Insomniac

It’s time to come clean. I’ve been doing this for far too long, and all the secrecy and sneaking around is beginning to wear on me.

I strive to be a good and decent person, but I am only human, so it’s inevitable that I will sometimes falter.

The time has come to get this out into the open: to clear my conscience and let my readers, friends and loved ones know what kind of a person I really am. So I am removing the mask, revealing my secret, and confessing my sin.

Late at night, when I’m alone and have trouble sleeping (which is most of the time) I slip out of bed, lock my bedroom door, switch on the television and watch reruns of House.

I know… And you probably thought I was just smoking pot or something. If only it were so benign.

Dr. House is an amazing character. He’s arrogant, obnoxious and condescending. And that’s on a good day. Typically, he harasses and deliberately humiliates his subordinates; having nothing but contempt for authority, he treats his Chief of Staff in just about the same way. Only, with Dr. Cuddy, he heaps on an extra layer of humiliation with constant reminders that, given the choice between following her instructions and following his, the rest of the staff will defy her every time.

House is crude, abrasive and egocentric. His bedside manner is appalling: he shows absolutely no sympathy or compassion for his patients, and in fact, routinely criticizes and insults them, blaming them for their illness or injury and attributing it their own stupidity.

He is a bitter, unkempt, misogynistic curmudgeon who makes no secret of his addiction to Vicodin. He indiscriminately swallows handfuls of pills in front of, well, anyone at all, even his patients, and he has his subordinates write prescriptions for him.

If he were real, and you met him in person, you might want to punch him in the face, even if you weren’t prone to violence. He’s rude, thoughtless and downright mean a lot of the time.

He uses unconventional and risky methods for diagnosing and treating patients. Informed consent and doctor-patient privilege are meaningless to him; the ends justifies the means.

Dr. House cannot be trusted to keep a promise, a secret or even an appointment.

But you can trust him with your life, and you can take that to the bank.

He’ll do anything and everything to save and cure you, if only to prove that he was right and to earn gloating privileges.

But I think there’s more to Dr. House than meets the eye. Behind the mask of confidence, self-assurance and independence, he has a need to be understood and validated, liked and even loved. The problem is that he’s terrified of all these feelings, so he denies them and mocks anyone who suggests that needing people is anything more than a gross character flaw.

House is the good guy and the bad guy, the hero and the villain. You love to hate him and hate to love him.

Kind of makes me wish I smoked pot.

Posted by Lottie — Copyright © 2009 Rambling On


Saturday Cartoons: Hailin’ Palin

What if, by some miracle, McCain actually wins the election? And what if, tragically, something were to happen to him, and Sarah Palin became President? Would Jesus be Palin’s VP? For the cold hard facts of one possible future (hey, if the Dobsonites can do it…) watch this cartoon:

BoundlessMultimedia

Funny side note: When I was adding tags, I accidentally typed “theocrazy” instead of “theocracy”. Hmmm….


Idiosyncratica October Challenge

This month, Gessy challenged the group to write a short scene of about 100 to 300 words without using any adjectives. The following is my humble effort:

Do Not Disturb

Standing outside Russ’s door this morning, I knew. Today is Sunday, and the note inside his window had been there since Wednesday. It said, “Please do not disturb. I am resting today.”

I tried to convince myself that he just needed time. Or perhaps he had forgotten to take the note out of the window. But I knew.

I knocked on the door. No movement. Russ didn’t answer.

Walking back to my apartment, I saw the landlord coming toward our building. There were police officers with her. I watched as they climbed the stairs, and then as she let the officers inside Russ’s apartment.

They came back out within seconds. It was summer in Texas and the air conditioner wasn’t running. They spoke into their radios, using code I didn’t understand. I went inside my apartment and watched from the window.

Minutes later, people in uniforms were beginning to swarm. Men in suits drove a car that resembled a station wagon. Someone pulled a stretcher from the back of it.

How long had they been inside Russ’s apartment? I opened my door just in time to see them leaving again. There was something on the stretcher, but it wasn’t Russ. The bag was zipped from end to end.

The ground started moving toward my face. I collided with it.

Returning now from the hospital, I look up at Russ’s window. The note has gone.

Posted by Lottie — Copyright © 2008 Rambling On


Idiosyncratica September Challenge

This month, Archie challenged us to write approximately 500 words on the “joy of losing” . This was the most difficult for me so far, and I have to admit I’m terribly nervous about posting it. But I’ll take a deep breath and publish it, just as soon as I finish this introduction.

This purely fictional piece was inspired by Truthwalker, a fellow blogger who evacuated his home yesterday morning to avoid Hurricane Gustav.

Truthwalker is a former Christian who shares quite candidly on his blog his progress, thoughts and feelings as he discovers a new way to live . I can personally relate to many of the changes he is experiencing, and I appreciate his being so open about it all in the face of how difficult that can be, and for the opportunity to follow along on his personal journey.

I am thankful for the inspiration, and I’ll be looking forward to his safe return.

Here is my story:
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Lost: One Best Friend

For our Idiosyncratica challenge this month, Mike suggested we write a drabble, which is a short story written in exactly 100 words. I was terrified at first, but it turned out to be quite fun.

So, I will now introduce my very first drabble entitled, Lost: One Best Friend:

Julz asked me why I stayed. Why would she accuse me this way? I might not have known she was blaming me. It almost sounded like she cared; like she loved me. Good thing They told me about this.

All these years I thought Julz was on my side. She made a good show of it, for sure. Now I know she blames me. That’s not love.

But where will I go now? Julz was I all had. But They care! They’re the ones who warned me about people like Julz.

What’s that new sign in their window?

Victims Wanted?


My Fiction And Me

As a proud member of Idiosyncratica , a writers blog-ring founded by my friend, Gary Murning, I will now embark on the first of our monthly writing topics:

[…] each member should introduce the other group members to the kind of fiction they write or enjoy reading and explain a little about how it relates to them — why it inspires/drives them etc.

Since I’m still developing my writing style and have only ever written short stories long, long ago for a creative writing class, I don’t have a lot to say on that front. That being the case, I will share with you what I enjoy reading, and do my best to explain why.

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