Tucker started barking like a maniac and I instantly knew that Mom must be home. Her headlights reflected off the frosted window and blinded my sight. Dad hollered from the kitchen to help Mom with the groceries. Max ran around the living room like a chicken with his head cut off trying to find his red rain boots.

 “The rain boots aren’t going to help in the snow,” I yelled down the hall as he slipped on the hardwood floors into the kitchen.

As Mom scurried into the house with her hair all windblown I quickly caught Tucker from escaping through the front door. All I wanted to do was help make the apple pie, but first I had to give Emma a bath. I understand that I’m ten-years-old and my parents are busy, but do I really need to bathe my 2-year-old sister?

Once her bath was done I quickly passed her off to Dad in order to help Mom bake the cake. I ran down the stairs, passed Max still searching for his rain boots…this time with a metal strainer on his head complaining that the aliens took them, to an empty kitchen and the smell of warm pie.

“MOM! Did you already make the apple pie?”

I stood in the empty kitchen as tears trickled down my face. This was the last straw. I was supposed to be able to make the apple pie. Some people may think this is silly because it is just an apple pie, but to a ten-year-old this was a big deal! I had had enough of them making me invisible and forgetting that I am just that, a ten-year-old.

I slipped past the living room where Mom was cuddled up watching one of her 100 taped Christmas shows. Dad was sitting at the computer mumbling to himself about all the money they had spent for the holiday. I quietly tip toed into my room making sure to not wake up Emma. I quickly packed together a backpack, put my winter boots over my candy-cane pajama pants, zipped up my winter jacket, and tucked my red locks under a periwinkle ski cap.

 “Where are you going,” asked Max as he stood in the doorway holding a crayon and a letter to Santa while still wearing the metal strainer.

“I’m going to…find a present for Mom and Dad!”

Through his coke bottle glasses I could see the confusion swirling around. With his awkward lisp and six-year-old crooked smile he quickly asked to join!

“This is a job for only a big kid Max. Next year you can come.”

I made sure not to look in his eyes because I could never lie to my adorable six-year-old brother. Max shrugged it off and continued to scribble nonsense words in a letter to Santa. I kissed him on the forehead and scurried out the door.

It was much colder now than earlier before. For a split second I stood on the front steps not sure of where I was going to go. I decided it didn’t matter because anywhere else was better than a family who wouldn’t let me bake my apple pie. The street glistened with Christmas lights. It was brighter than expected since the lights reflected against the fresh white snow.

I continued down our quiet street and thought of the soup kitchen downtown. During the holidays my elementary school would always volunteer to make decorations for the holiday dinners. Mrs. Fernwood told us it was a place where people without a home could go for a warm cooked meal. I thought about the people that were curled up under the bridges and who walked around downtown with shopping carts full of random things that didn’t seem too important. Mom always told me that one say when she won a lot of money from the lottery she would buy a home for all of them to live in. This would be the perfect place for me to hide out while I decided which relative to visit.

As I entered the soup kitchen the tables were filled with people of all ages as some familiar faces served warm bread, chicken, vegetables, and hot creamy soup. Christmas tree cookies and gingerbread men were for dessert. They looked just like Mr. Henry’s wife’s famous recipe. He always brought them in for the annual Christmas bake sale and I made sure to buy as many as I could with my 75 cents.

I took two cookies from the tray and some hot chocolate then hid myself at a table in the back corner. I promised myself that next year I would find time to bake some cookies of my own to bring to the soup kitchen.

“Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?”

I looked up to find an older man standing in front of me with a cup of coffee and a gingerbread cookie. Normally I would listen to the little voice in my head telling me not to talk to strangers, but since the soup kitchen was full of people and this man had a scruffy white beard that reminded me of Santa Claus I decided he could take a seat. I gave him a half smile. His face was round and slightly red on his cheeks. His white hair was tucked behind a knitted cap. His belly was round and poked out from under his torn apart navy blue jacket. For a homeless man his finger nails were clean and his hair seemed washed. He actually looked exactly like the Santa Claus in all my Christmas books.

love <3 11.5

Blond hair, sits a girl too afraid to

Take a risk, a chance. A second chance

To be exact. A chance to live and to

Love. A chance to feel comfort and no

Fear that she will be left alone by the time

She is twenty-two.

This girl sits there on

The edge of the pond, her toes touching

The water and her heels feeling the smoothness

Of the washed over pebbles. Here is where

She feels most at peace. With the open air

And the twinkle of the stars she collects

Her thoughts, all jumbled in her brain. She

Picks through this one and that one. The right

And the left one. Yes or no, maybe so? As she

Presses her lips together her tiny scar

Fades with the blush of her skin.

What is she so afraid of?

Why can’t she just take a risk, a

Chance?

To leap and be caught.

To fall and be saved.

To risk and be rewarded.

Maybe it’s the distance, or maybe it’s the thought

That everything could be perfect. That this girl

Will love her unconditionally as long as

She can. That she won’t let her hand go, ever

And that she will hold her when she feels unsafe

And most vulnerable.

I sit in the distance, hidden from the sandy

Hair, the sea foam eyes, the scar on the lip.

Hidden from the fear that the decision she makes

Could change our lives forever. I sit there

Waiting

Waiting

And waiting for her to realize that I am not

Going anywhere. That I will catch her. That I

Will love her. That I will hold her when she

Is insecure and reward her with this simple

Risk.

She took the risk once before.

What is she so afraid of?

I think she is afraid of the butterflies she’ll get

When their lips meet and skips her heart beats

Will make. I think she is afraid of perfection

Because people always say that,

“no one is perfect.”

But see to me, perfection is in the eye

Of the beholder. I behold her perfection

To the highest standard. Maybe soon

She will hold mine, safe in her arms

For as long as she will allow me to lay there.

While Mom fixes her lip stick, Jessica perks

Up her boobs and Dad fixes Max’s collar.

I sit in the back holding this brick red

Box with padlock and chains.

Each chain is tied around each member

Of my family’s legs. My mom hides it

Under her demin jeans. My dad under

His perfectly pleated black trousers.

My sister’s behind her Victoria Secret

Yoga pants with the leopard waste band

And bright pink studs that spell out

PINK on her ass. I don’t hide mine. I leave

Mine exposed to the world. Well more so

Exposed to you.

To you so you will stop telling me I don’t

Know shit and that I am

Privileged. I am as privileged as Paris Hilton staying

In the Hilton Hotel with her mom and dad.

I am so privileged to live in the nice part of

Town and to own a car and to have the

Picture perfect family.

But you know something I’m not privileged to have-

I’m not privileged to have a dead

sister or a dead dog or a past

Boyfriend who held me down so hard

I couldn’t breathe or a grandmother who

Can’t remember what story I told her

Five minutes ago. I have two grandparents

Who would spend more money on themselves

Because they don’t want to divide it up

Between their children and two other

Grandparents who love me unconditionally

Even if Nana can’t remember my name.

So like they say, “before you point your fingers

Make sure your hands are clean.”

Before you go calling me privileged ask for the

key to my padlock and I’ll show you what blonde

Hair, blue eyed, Bachelor degree, pretty

white privileged girl really looks like.

Just because I am a writer, don’t think that is my only therapy. I have a slight obsession with Vera Bradley and bought myself a new purse yesterday! It was Vera’s birthday so I got a pretty good discount.

But again, cleanse your soul. Open your eyes to the world today and realize what you want, what you need, and most importantly what you deserve. Everyday you deserve the best, but some days you deserve the VERY BEST.

Happy writing plus lots of peace & love.

<3

-Lys

my new purse zip top tote

wood straggly hair, behind bone flesh

and deep set, like the grand canyon, eyes

lives a soul tarnished like that cheap

silver locket Grandma Sue bought you

from the Dollar Store for only 50 cents.

It was on sale that Wednesday in October,

1999. Crippled by the boy that wore black

t-shirts, denim jeans whose top row of

teeth sat behind the front causing him

to have a slight lisp only when he tried

to pronounce sex. Or by the girl with

long sun beamed pin straight hair, C

boobs and a pathetic swagger even

though she grew up with an actual white

picket fence. Or maybe it was that

brother she used to have. She always felt

awkward when people would ask the

inevitable and rather boring, uneventful,

bland question if proposed to anyone else:

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Well I have two. No I have one and I had one.”

That shouldn’t be a fucking complicated question!

Whether it was the boy

the girl

or the dead brother. She was a tarnished

soul who had salmon scars on her thunder

thighs from 14 years of plies, pirouettes and

paso dolbe. She drank cherry cough syrup

straight from the plastic bottle, always making

sure not to replace the cap. After five swigs

she was like a child again. A tiny obsession that

caused an instant rush of pain outlines a

butterfly to hide the initials permanent in her skin.

Five to be exact. Five outlined butterflies down

her side. She sits patiently on the auburn over-size

sofa chair with tiny brass buttons keeping the fabric

tightly pinched together. Her profile resembles

the average American twenty-two-year-old whose

one leg, the left one, shook uncontrollably.

Locked light in her arm was a periwinkle journal

with an aquamarine satin bow keeping all her

secrets, or maybe funny jokes, tied up just like

that neighbor used to do with this pet kitten before

he moved onto man made bombs that made her

dog whimper like an infant. When her name was

called she moved like a robot to the pine oak door.

Right before entering she opened her black purse,

more like a suitcase, and dropped the tarnished

50 cent necklace into the waste basket.

It shattered.

So let’s talk about this whole being a college graduate and not being able to find a job. The more and more things I apply to the more that I learn I’m not qualified enough. BUT…if you won’t hire me how will I ever become qualified enough? Clearly it is all based on someone wanting to take a risk with you or knowing someone of some sort of importance. Or you could be like this person I met who is 24 has a bachelor degree, masters, real estate license, and going for her phD. Is that real life? YES…it is.

I aspire to be that motivated and accomplish THAT much at a young age.

Happy writing & good luck with the job hunt!

-Lys

xoxo

See not every post is going to be about english…I promise. Today I want to write about high heels. I absolutely love the look of them and they make me have killer legs, but I can NEVER walk in them. I swear if you are over 5’5″ your body was just not designed to wear heels. I try everything to make it work. I’ll wear them around the house for a little bit or I’ll try to find ones that I think are comfortable…well see key word..think! Usually they are not comfortable at all. I want a pair of nude heels and I promised myself I’d suck it up and wear them…even if it was painful. I’m sure if I found a pair of closed toe nude wedge heels I would be able to walk!

If they are a wedge it is always a huge possibility! For now I will stick with my cute flats, UGG boots/mocassins, converse sneakers, and flip flops The prices I pay for being 5’8″!

Enjoy the day & always, happy writing!

<3 peace & love.

-Lys

So I decided I am going to take a new approach to my blog. I tend to just post things that I have written, which I will continue to do, but I also want to just write to world about stuff that is going on! Not “news wise” people…just “life wise”

My blab today is going to be about grammar. I personally can’t spell at all. I still have to sound out b-e-a-u-tiful in order to spell it. I also still say “i before e, except after c” and say wed-nes-day. I’m not sure there is an easy way to learn how to spell things correctly. I’ve tried lots of avenues, like reading a lot more so I will have a better selection of words for my writings AND so I can see how things are spelled…well it isn’t helping! I took the MTELs a couple weeks ago and the hardest questions were the grammar ones. I think I will invest in a grammar book and read a page a week…more than that will be grammar overload and I JUST graduated college so I need a break from education. I will keep reading, but since Borders is going out of business I’m sure I’ll find a $3.99 grammar book.

When I become a teacher, eventually a college professor, I will make sure to find a way to keep grammar going till your a senior in high school, or college. I don’t know who decided that when you turned 14 you didn’t need to learn how to spell anymore or form a proper sentence, but whoever they were is an IDIOT!

Enjoy your day & happy writing!

Peace & Love<3

-Lys

Sitting in my kitchen I glanced down at the diploma order form. For a split second I had a flash back of the day I received my acceptance letter to Westfield State University. Aaron would be so proud of me is all I kept thinking. He would be even prouder of me now.

Number 2. Publish a book.

I am an English major with a concentration in writing. Isn’t this supposed to be my dream or what I aspire to do? YES, it is. Plus my mom is already one up on me.

Number 3. Adopt a child.

Every little kid needs a home. I might as well offer mine.

Number 4. Fall in love.

It may be cliché, but it will always be my wish. I even wrote it down on a star in my wish jar because truth be told “a wish is just a dream until it is written down.”

Number 5. Get Married.

If I fall in love I must get married. If I have children I must get married. This is one part of the Catholic religion, even if it is in miss-matched order, that I do believe in.

Number 6. Be a witness to a civil union.

Who knows what God has planned for us. Maybe I will witness my own civil union. Maybe my best friend will turn out to be gay. No matter what I live in Massachusetts. I will know ONE person in my life that will do this.

Number 7. Visit Haiti.

When Rene looked at me tears sat in the creases of her eyes. I knew it was true. They found Brittany’s body and she wasn’t going to be coming home. I hugged my best friend as hard as I could. I promised her that one day we would go sit on the rubble that laid outside the hotel where Brittany took her last breath.

Number 8. Go to New Orleans and Volunteer.

Mr. Preston was my sign language teacher in high school. I watched Katrina on the news with fear in my bones. He spent his summers there. I had this gut feeling. That feeling when the biggest bully in school knocks you straight in the torso. He might not be alive. When September 3^rd rolled around and his frail, beaten and bruised body ushered our class inside I vowed that one day I would go aid those in need at the place he called his second home.

Number 9. Donate an organ.

A kidney if I am alive and any organ if I die. That is why I have a red heart on my drives license and at the age of twenty-one was so excited to check the “yes” box.

Number 10. Get another tattoo.

Let’s be real. People, they are extremely addicting.

Number 11. Meet Eminem.

Even if every other word out of this fowled mouthed rap star is inappropriate, he still says some of the deepest, most meaningful things. PLUS he is extremely attractive.

Number 12. Go to Poland and England.

I am English and Polish. I feel my homelands deserve my presence once in their lives.

Number 13. Put my feet in the Pacific Ocean.

Every summer my toes touch the Atlantic Ocean at least a million times. Just once I want them to feel the salt water of another beautiful water hole.

Number 14. Go to every Disneyland.

I am a kid at heart and absolutely obsessed with Disneyland. Disney is one place that will always keep me in touch with my younger years.

Number 15. Go on a zip line.

Number 16. Be in a TV show.

Everyone wants a little taste of fame and well I can’t sing for shit.

Number 17. Work for a magazine.

I love to write. To get my words in print of any kind would be a dream come true. I must try to reach every outlet of language.

Number 18. Take a photography class.

I want to be able to capture every important memory and moment in my life. But I want to do it the correct way and not need to photo shop EVERY picture.

Number 19. Witness a birth.

Even though it is going to be wrong and extremely awkward I want to witness my sister having a baby. If I can’t see my own she is the only person I feel comfortable with. She is my best friend and I would hope she would want me in the room.

Number 20. Paint a picture in Central Park.

Number 21. Get a Ford F-150.

Number 22. Weigh 140 lbs.

This may never happen in my life and the more I think about it I am 5’8”. Weighing that much would probably kill me. Maybe reaching for that will at least get me closer to an ideal weight. BUT to be honest if this never happens I wouldn’t be too upset about it.

Number 23. Design a purse.

Number 24. Learn to ski.

I know how to snowboard. It is only fair that I give the other winter sport a try. Even if I know I am destined to HATE it.

Number 25. Have my own children.

Self-explanatory.

Number 26. Own a puppy.

I am a dog lover all the way. When I get my first full time job a puppy is first on my list. Everyone needs a best friend.

Number 27. Learn to do a round off.

Number 28. Climb Mt. Washington.

I get really annoyed when I see those bumper stickers that say, “This car climbed Mt. Washington!” Get off your lazy ass and climb it yourself!

Number 29. Be in two places at once.

A Walk to Remember opened my eyes to this concept and I just thought it was amazing. It had to make it on my list and be the first thing I accomplish!

Number 30. Go on an Alaskan Cruise.

I hate the ocean. I am afraid of water. I am so afraid of going on a cruise where I can’t see land. On an Alaskan Cruise you see land at all times.

Number 31. Donate to a charity.

Whether it is a penny, a dollar, a hundred dollars, or a thousand. It’s for a good cause. One day I might be part of a charity that needs donations.

Number 32. Meet my brother’s Norwich roommates.

Aaron was the “undetermined” type. He would want to be a cop one day and a chef the next. The one thing that he did accomplish, even if it was for 3 months, was the first semester of college at a military school. Since I can’t ask him all about his great memories there, I feel that his roommates are the solution. This may be impossible, but I want to meet the people he spent most of his time with the year he shut everyone else out.

Number 33. Meet Obama.

He was the first president I voted for.

Number 34. Volunteer at a youth center.

Number 35. See a tornado.

Number 36. Meet a band.

I don’t have a preference of which one.

Number 37. Pay my parents bills.

They paid for college and for everything in my life except my car. I want to be able to do the same for them one day.

Number 38. See Cirque de Soleil.

Number 39. See Blue Man group.

Number 40. Create a recipe.

Number 41. Dance on a stage again.

I did it for fourteen years of my life. I miss it terribly.

Number 42. Meet a Patriot’s player.

I am all about football and New England.

Number 43. Go to a Patriot’s game.

Number 44. Go to a Celtic’s game.

Preferably the Celtics verse the Lakers. I am in love with Rondo and want to pinch Derek Fisher’s cheeks.

Number 45. Try to donate blood.

Every time I see blood I pass out. I also tested positive to tuberculosis. I still want to try to save someone’s life.

Number 46. Go to Japan.

I just want to eat white rice, wear a kimono, and sit in a Japanese garden.

Number 47. Eat real Chinese food.

In case you didn’t know they don’t eat chicken fingers, pork fried rice, and crab Rangoon in China.

Number 48. Visit all the East Coast States.

I am an East Coast girl. The Atlantic Ocean has my heart.

Number 49. Go to the Mall of America.

Number 50. Swim with dolphins.

Growing up I wanted to be a marine biologist. I had a book on sea creatures. Dolphins made the front page.

Number 51. Ride the 90-degree drop rollercoaster at Busch Gardens in Tampa, FL.

Number 52. Go to Las Vegas.

If I can’t make it to the real Eiffel Tower, the next best thing will have to cut it. Maybe I’ll win big on a slot machine!

Number 53. Become a grandmother.

After I was born my mom went back to work. My Dad’s mother volunteered to babysit me. I used to sit at this tiny cast-iron table and chairs. I would have tea parties with all my imaginary friends. My grandmother always told me that when I went to sleep the teddy bears and dolls would come out and play. Just like Toy Story, but only at night. She was my hero back then. She still is. I want that connection with someone.

Number 54. See Area 51.

I just want to know if it really exists. Ever since JonBenet Ramsey was murdered in 1996 I have had this fascination with the unknown. I want to know who killed her. I want to know if the Burmuda Triangle really exists. I want to know how Marilyn Monroe really died. I want to know what really happened on September 11, 2001. I want to know if there is such a thing as Area 51.

Number 55. Go to an Eminem concert.

Number 56. Write an obituary.

As morbid as it is I love words and I love language. To be able to tell the world the life of someone in only a couple of sentences is absolutely breath taking.

Number 57. Become a lawyer.

I probably will never accomplish this. I really don’t want to be a lawyer. But one or two items need to be unrealistic or sometimes your goals just change.

Number 58. Go to a Redsox vs. Yankees game.

Any Redsox fan would have this on THEIR bucket list.

Number 59. Eat a “Cake Boss” cake.

Number 60. Try on a wedding dress at Kleinfeld in New York City.

Who knows maybe I’d get to be on their show “Say Yes to the Dress.” I would knock two items off in just one trip!

Number 61. Get a starfish tattoo.

The starfish story inspired me the first time I heard about it at the National Orientation Director’s Association conference in Cherry Hill, NJ.

Number 62. Own a house.

If I want to get married, have a big girl job, have kids, and a puppy then I need a house to put all of that in and park my Ford F-150.

Number 63. Go on a jet ski.

Number 64. Go to Graduate School.

I am a writer. I want to be a college professor. If I want to get paid for what I love to do this is a must. MFA in creative non-fiction.

Number 65. Work in Boston.

It is a beautiful city. The old buildings and cobblestone roads make it rich and historic.

Number 66. Publish one of my poems.

I hated poetry until I took a poetry class in college. Once I understood that I didn’t need to rhyme, word chains would save my life, I invented the word rhym, and prose poetry existed, I came up with some pretty good stuff.

Number 67. Write an autobiography.

I think my life is interesting.

Number 68. Make a perfume.

Number 69. Get one tattoo with color.

Number 70. Donate to locks of love.

I hate having long hair, but my cousin donated to locks of love one time. I felt I had to do it. If I ever needed a wig after chemotherapy I would hope someone would donate his or her hair for me.

Number 71. Become a justice of the peace and marry a couple.

I don’t believe in God sometimes. I feel that people should get married however they choose to. I just want to be part of that special moment of intimacy through marriage once.

Number 72. Visit the Grand Canyon.

Number 73. Tour the White House.

Number 74.  See a volcano.

Number 75. Meet Drew Barrymore.

She is absolutely beautiful. People always tell me that I remind them of her.

Number 76. Own a fish tank.

Number 77. Design a converse for (PRODUCT)^RED.

The (RED) idea works with a number of companies, including converse, to create (RED) products. 50% of the sales of these products are donated to the Global Fund to invest in HIV and AIDS programs in Africa.

Number 78. Try out for the Real World.

Number 79. Visit a jungle.

Even though there are poisonous animals and creepy crawlers the jungle is a world of it’s own. It’s beautiful.

Number 80. Pierce my cartilage.

Number 81. Do a walk for autism.

I don’t know anyone personally that is autistic. I still feel it is a great cause.

Number 82. Visit the Children’s Hospital in Boston.

Number 83. Donate to Westfield State University.

The school gave so much to me. I feel I need to give something back.

Number 84. Volunteer at a soup kitchen.

Number 85. Eat a “DC” cupcake.

It’s actually a cupcake from Georgetown Cupcake, but the television show on TLC is called DC Cupcake.

Number 86. Cross the San Francisco Bridge.

Number 87. Plant a garden.

She has eyes the color of sea foam and chrysanthemum yellow hair. She was my imaginary friend for almost 2 years. I would yell and scream when someone tried to sit on her at the dinner table. No one understood that she really didn’t like broccoli. Her name was Chrysanthemum. My grandfather was a farmer. Our yard has been full of flowers and gardens ever since I can remember. I feel that it is only appropriate.

Number 88. Volunteer for Habitat for Humanity.

Number 89. Go to a GLBT Parade.

I have pride in who I am, who I will always be, and what I believe in. I will always believe in equal rights.

Number 90. Teach an elementary class.

I don’t want to teach just any subject at just any elementary school. I want to teach writing to an urban class. Preferably a school in a low-income area. I feel that these kids would benefit the most from what I have to offer. Maybe one day they will come back and say, “Miss Zabierek if it wasn’t for your tips before the MCAS testing or your drive to make sure we did all our homework and actually listened I would of never graduated.”

Number 91. Send a secret to Post-Secret.

Everyone has secrets. I have a couple. I would love to share at least one with the world without anyone knowing.

Number 92. Learn to sew.

Number 93. Design a dress.

Number 94. Jump off a cliff.

Into water. I am petrified of heights.

Number 95. Go skydiving.

The closest I will ever come to the superpower of flight.

Number 96. Learn how to salsa dance.

Number 97. Learn how to dive.

Number 98. Go to an island for vacation.

Number 99. Visit Washington State.

From pictures and stories I’ve heard it’s a magnificent place. I want to experience that some day. Maybe graduate school. Maybe a long necessary vacation when I am 35.

Number 100. Be an extra in a movie.

I hope to be like Erin Brockovich in the Erin Brockovich movie. I want one of my books to become a movie. All I ask is that I get to be the waitress serving Julia Robert’s daughter a cheeseburger with no cheese and no bun.