After college I got married and moved to Washington state, where I attended graduate school. My new group of friends from grad school came to know my bestest friend from undergrad as "My Roommate Cathy." Since they didn't know her personally I always started stories about her with "My roommate Cathy blah blah blah."
(That's how I learned I had an accent. Caaathy. It's a Western New York thing I guess.)
Anyway, I have one of those stories.
My roommate Cathy and I lived together for four years. And four pretty impressionable years. One of the things she impressed upon me was the telling of bedtime stories. We'd be quiet in the dark trying to fall asleep and I'd hear, "Annie, are you awake?"
If I didn't answer she'd wait a minute and ask again. Sometimes she'd just keep talking as though I had answered. If I did answer she'd ask me to tell her a story to help her fall asleep. She probably fed me some baloney about it helping me fall asleep too because I would tire my brain out and then be ready for slumber by the end of the story. Whatever she told me I'd most often go along with her request and tell a bedtime story.
Now these weren't just any stories. She'd give me five random words and I'd work them into a cute little tale about something that left a smile on her face. I'm good like that!
I haven't done that in a while, but every time I leave a comment on some one's blog and I have to type in the word verification to post my thoughts I think about story telling again. Tonight I think I'll weave a story using some of the verifying words I've kept track of. See if you can spot all five.
Once upon a time there was a girl, Lilah, who loved to dance. She was always a little on the plump side and felt self conscious so she danced in the shadows not under the spot light. As she grew her love of dance grew with her, but somehow, maybe because she didn't dance with the full spirit of Gedisti, the Egyptian goddess of movin' and groovin', she married a wonderful man who didn't dance.
The couple lived a very fulfilling life, but Lilah missed shaking what God gave her. Even with a house full of children and chores she wished there were more time for dancing. After birthing all those kids she found herself even more...curvy, shall we say. Her husband didn't mind at all, but she wanted to get a new hessi, the latest in fashion, and wondered how to tone and tighten while cooking and cleaning.
Then it hit her! Lilah turned up the vomns while dusting and doing dishes. She swished her hips and lunged her way from room to room while sweeping and vacuuming. After a few weeks of dingybics she started to feel a difference. Lilah was lovin' life. Her hubby didn't seem to mind either. He even took her to a work party where she tore up the dance floor!
Know what was so great about that night? No, her husband didn't dance with her, but he applauded her along with everyone else because she wasn't flugin on the edge of the dance floor. She flipped, flopped, and flailed right in the center of the floor. She had her time in the sunshine, or at least the glow of the disco ball! Lilah felt great, looked fabulous, and lived happily ever after.