Birdie was hanging out with Mrs. Maria Nelson at Mrs. Nelson’s house. They were drinking coffee and Birdie was talking Mrs. Nelson’s ear off about the Halloween party.
“And she kissed me!”
“Yes, Birdie, you’ve told me the story about three times now. I don’t know what else to tell you, hon. There is just no way to know who it was unless you ask around,” Mrs. Nelson said wearily.
The two had met at Mrs. Nelson’s house for coffee to discuss her recent firing but Birdie was absolutely fixated on her Halloween experience. There was a silence and Birdie seemed to remember why they had decided to meet in the first place.
“So, can you explain to me again why you were fired?” she asked Maria.
Maria Nelson took a sip of her tea and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“I came out as a bisexual over ten years ago to my friends and family but I didn’t come out at work. I knew that the administration at Peabody Elementary School was pretty intolerant of homosexuality. Then, about one year ago, a former student of mine stopped in to visit me during a teacher in-service day. He confided in me that he was questioning his sexuality. He was now in seventh grade and had transferred to Saint Mary’s Catholic school after his parents had caught him dressing up in his sister’s clothing. They, being pretty much fundamentalist Christians, thought that he was being tempted by Satan and the only solution was to pull him out of the public school system and send him to Saint Mary’s.”
Birdie sighed audibly. Maria continued.
“His parents then targeted me at Peabody Elementary. They went to the school board claiming that I was corrupting Peabody’s students. I attended a meeting where it was determined that it was fine for me to teach there as long as people didn’t know I was bisexual. Now that people knew though, they had to let me go. There weren’t really any state protections for gays and lesbians in the workplace. No matter how hard I fought their decision, I was powerless in the eyes of the law. So, I had to resign or be fired, and I chose to resign. I work as a receptionist in a vet clinic now and try to focus on my writing.”
Maria stared into her coffee cup for a minute after finishing her story. She was still hurt and angry by the experience—it had been a year but it felt like it was yesterday.
“Well, there must be SOMETHING we can do,” Birdie exclaimed. She had never heard of this kind of discrimination in her hometown and, after recently coming out as a lesbian, this whole issue suddenly felt very personal, and very important to her.
She reached over and took Maria’s hand in her own.
“I’m going to do some research. We’re not going to let them win this,” she said.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Message #4 from Devina
Hello Kiddies,
I've been out of commission the past month (or two) due to illness. Never fear, the latest issue is to be posted directly after this note. I've got lots of more to come--it is all rolling around in my noggin'. I just have to keep focusing on my health so that I can get it all on paper.
Enjoy Issue 8 and Happy Hollerdays!!
Devina Devore
I've been out of commission the past month (or two) due to illness. Never fear, the latest issue is to be posted directly after this note. I've got lots of more to come--it is all rolling around in my noggin'. I just have to keep focusing on my health so that I can get it all on paper.
Enjoy Issue 8 and Happy Hollerdays!!
Devina Devore
Friday, November 13, 2009
Message #3 From Devina
Hello Loyal Readers,
Unfortunately this week has had a few more speed bumps than I would have preferred. You dolls will just have to wait a few more days for the next issue. Never fear, it is near completion!!
Devina Devore
Unfortunately this week has had a few more speed bumps than I would have preferred. You dolls will just have to wait a few more days for the next issue. Never fear, it is near completion!!
Devina Devore
Friday, October 30, 2009
Volume 1, Issue 7: Just Like a Ninja
Georgia Smalley lived across the road from Ian, Selma, and Birdie. She had never met them before but whenever she stepped out on her porch to smoke in the evenings, she could see Birdie across the road, sitting on her patio stairs reading a book. She rarely saw Selma around the apartment and took little interest in her. Neighbor Boy and Redhead Girl were interesting to observe though.
She didn’t know how Ian and Birdie were related, but she knew that had to be kin of some sort. Brother and sister? Cousins? Fraternal twins? She couldn’t tell. Their stature, blazing red hair, and freckles made them mirror images of one another. Ian seemed like a worrier—always fretting over some thought rolling around in his head. He always walked down the road to the bus stop deep in concentration, staring at the ground with his eyebrows crinkled.
Birdie, on the other hand, was a dreamer. Georgia was intrigued at the carefree and confident way that Birdie walked. She paid attention to her surroundings but not in the paranoid, hyper-vigilant way that Georgia tended to. Birdie saw every tree, every squirrel. She felt every drop of rain and every ray of sun. To Georgia, Birdie was damn near a Buddha—always present and smiling.
Georgia was putting the finishing touches on her Halloween costume. She was dressed as a masked ninja. Once she was fully dressed, she left for the Halloween party. Every year, the theater crowd at ICU threw a big party for Halloween. Chaos always ensued at these parties. Georgia was hoping that tonight would follow suit.
That morning Georgia had gotten mail addressed to Birdie in her mailbox. Georgia, being bisexual, had a big crush on Birdie and hoped that the letter would be her ticket in to getting to know her.
Little did she know, the letter would be unnecessary in getting to know Birdie. She and Ian had also been invited to the Halloween party. Birdie looked amazing as Rosie the Riveter—a little skinny, but cute as hell. Ian was…well…Georgia couldn’t tell what Ian was exactly. She came to find out later that he was attempting to look like one of his favorite and obscure writers. No one got it. Poor, clumsy Ian.
Georgia walked towards Birdie who was chatting with a group of people in the kitchen. Birdie saw her and made eye contact. Georgia didn’t miss the not-so-subtle way that Birdie checked her out as she walked towards her. Georgia’s curvy body moved in waves under her ninja suit. Her brown eyes were all Birdie could see of her face.
Birdie excused herself and walked out to the back porch. Georgia followed her. The night was chilly, and, aside from a few chatty smokers, she and Birdie were the only people outside.
“Nice night,” Georgia commented. Birdie looked at her.
“If you hadn’t have said anything, I wouldn’t have known you were even there, being a ninja and all,” she said and then looked away, seemingly embarrassed.
“Yep. We ninjas are an interesting lot. You never know when we’ll sneak up behind you,” Georgia said, taking a long drag of her cigarette.
Georgia walked towards Birdie and made eye contact. Birdie didn’t look away.
“What’s your name?”
“Birdie O’Reilly. What’s yours?”
“Ninjas never tell.”
"I think you're sexy," Birdie said and then clapped her hand over her mouth terrified she had let that information slip. Apparently the whiskey she'd had made her a little loose-lipped.
Georgia snuffed out her cigarette, leaned in, and kissed Birdie softly on the mouth. Her mask and the tequila she'd been drinking had made her extra brave. Birdie leaned into her touch and Georgia felt a vibration on her leg.
“Shit! My phone!” Birdie gasped. It was Selma.
“I’m sorry. It’s my roommate. She was at O’Reilly’s pub a couple weeks ago and got trampled when the fire alarms went off. Her ankle is broken and I should probably see what she needs,” Birdie stumbled.
Georgia nodded and smiled.
“I’ll be inside…if you can find me,” she said and winked.
After a quick chat with Selma, Birdie went back inside but couldn’t find her ninja girl anywhere.
She didn’t know how Ian and Birdie were related, but she knew that had to be kin of some sort. Brother and sister? Cousins? Fraternal twins? She couldn’t tell. Their stature, blazing red hair, and freckles made them mirror images of one another. Ian seemed like a worrier—always fretting over some thought rolling around in his head. He always walked down the road to the bus stop deep in concentration, staring at the ground with his eyebrows crinkled.
Birdie, on the other hand, was a dreamer. Georgia was intrigued at the carefree and confident way that Birdie walked. She paid attention to her surroundings but not in the paranoid, hyper-vigilant way that Georgia tended to. Birdie saw every tree, every squirrel. She felt every drop of rain and every ray of sun. To Georgia, Birdie was damn near a Buddha—always present and smiling.
Georgia was putting the finishing touches on her Halloween costume. She was dressed as a masked ninja. Once she was fully dressed, she left for the Halloween party. Every year, the theater crowd at ICU threw a big party for Halloween. Chaos always ensued at these parties. Georgia was hoping that tonight would follow suit.
That morning Georgia had gotten mail addressed to Birdie in her mailbox. Georgia, being bisexual, had a big crush on Birdie and hoped that the letter would be her ticket in to getting to know her.
Little did she know, the letter would be unnecessary in getting to know Birdie. She and Ian had also been invited to the Halloween party. Birdie looked amazing as Rosie the Riveter—a little skinny, but cute as hell. Ian was…well…Georgia couldn’t tell what Ian was exactly. She came to find out later that he was attempting to look like one of his favorite and obscure writers. No one got it. Poor, clumsy Ian.
Georgia walked towards Birdie who was chatting with a group of people in the kitchen. Birdie saw her and made eye contact. Georgia didn’t miss the not-so-subtle way that Birdie checked her out as she walked towards her. Georgia’s curvy body moved in waves under her ninja suit. Her brown eyes were all Birdie could see of her face.
Birdie excused herself and walked out to the back porch. Georgia followed her. The night was chilly, and, aside from a few chatty smokers, she and Birdie were the only people outside.
“Nice night,” Georgia commented. Birdie looked at her.
“If you hadn’t have said anything, I wouldn’t have known you were even there, being a ninja and all,” she said and then looked away, seemingly embarrassed.
“Yep. We ninjas are an interesting lot. You never know when we’ll sneak up behind you,” Georgia said, taking a long drag of her cigarette.
Georgia walked towards Birdie and made eye contact. Birdie didn’t look away.
“What’s your name?”
“Birdie O’Reilly. What’s yours?”
“Ninjas never tell.”
"I think you're sexy," Birdie said and then clapped her hand over her mouth terrified she had let that information slip. Apparently the whiskey she'd had made her a little loose-lipped.
Georgia snuffed out her cigarette, leaned in, and kissed Birdie softly on the mouth. Her mask and the tequila she'd been drinking had made her extra brave. Birdie leaned into her touch and Georgia felt a vibration on her leg.
“Shit! My phone!” Birdie gasped. It was Selma.
“I’m sorry. It’s my roommate. She was at O’Reilly’s pub a couple weeks ago and got trampled when the fire alarms went off. Her ankle is broken and I should probably see what she needs,” Birdie stumbled.
Georgia nodded and smiled.
“I’ll be inside…if you can find me,” she said and winked.
After a quick chat with Selma, Birdie went back inside but couldn’t find her ninja girl anywhere.
Message #2 From Devina
Hello Lovemunchkins,
I am currently working on a plot treatment for a novel about your beloved Ian and his experience studying abroad. I plan to develop this novel and have it written in about a year. Keep your eyes and ears open for news of its progress!!
Keep it greasy,
Devina Devore
I am currently working on a plot treatment for a novel about your beloved Ian and his experience studying abroad. I plan to develop this novel and have it written in about a year. Keep your eyes and ears open for news of its progress!!
Keep it greasy,
Devina Devore
Friday, October 16, 2009
Volume 1, Issue 6: Rescued
Selma was studying at the university library for her first exam in her victimology class. The class was really stressing her out. It was close to midnight and she had been here since she had left work at 7pm. Her stomach was rumbling. She hadn’t eaten all day. She took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat for a moment to clear her head. She needed to take a break before her brain collapsed. She locked up her books and laptop in her carrel and stepped outside with her cell phone.
Birdie picked up after three rings.
“Did I wake you?” Selma asked cautiously.
“Uh durrrr. It is almost midnight and I work at 6:30 in the A.M.” Birdie reminded her.
“I miss him,” Selma said, ignoring Birdie’s obvious annoyance.
Selma and Hassan had just broken up the day before. Hassan had dumped her because she refused to convert to Islam.
“We’ve been over this so many times. You know you can do better. You deserve someone who loves you; someone who respects you,” Birdie said.
“Ugh, I know. You know me better than anyone Birdie. You know I don’t like being alone but at the same time I’m afraid of commitment. Maybe I just screwed up with this one too. Do you wanna grab a beer? Let’s grab a beer. I need to de-stress.”
“A beer after midnight the night before your big victimology class? Not a good idea, Selma. Goodnight,” Birdie said hanging up the phone.
Selma sighed. She decided she’d go out for a drink by herself. After gathering up her things from inside the library she walked down to O’Reilly’s, the Irish bar that Ian’s parents owned. The bar was busy for a Tuesday night.
She scanned the room quickly, looking to see if there was anyone there that she knew and spotted Blake tucked away in a corner with a group of people. He caught her eye and waved her over.
Just then the fire alarms went off in the bar. A brief silence acted as a prelude to panic when all the drunk twenty something’s, rushed towards the exits—right where Selma was standing. Like a deer caught in headlights she froze as people crowded around her pushing towards the door. She tried to move to turn around but people surrounded her on all sides. Selma lost her balance and fell to the floor. She panicked—she was about to be trampled on. Someone stepped on her ankle and she heard a crack as a sharp pain ran up her leg. Selma screamed loudly, angry that drunk people were so inconsiderate and senseless.
She suddenly felt her body being lifted off the ground. Blake had picked her up off the floor as he followed the crowd outside.
Birdie picked up after three rings.
“Did I wake you?” Selma asked cautiously.
“Uh durrrr. It is almost midnight and I work at 6:30 in the A.M.” Birdie reminded her.
“I miss him,” Selma said, ignoring Birdie’s obvious annoyance.
Selma and Hassan had just broken up the day before. Hassan had dumped her because she refused to convert to Islam.
“We’ve been over this so many times. You know you can do better. You deserve someone who loves you; someone who respects you,” Birdie said.
“Ugh, I know. You know me better than anyone Birdie. You know I don’t like being alone but at the same time I’m afraid of commitment. Maybe I just screwed up with this one too. Do you wanna grab a beer? Let’s grab a beer. I need to de-stress.”
“A beer after midnight the night before your big victimology class? Not a good idea, Selma. Goodnight,” Birdie said hanging up the phone.
Selma sighed. She decided she’d go out for a drink by herself. After gathering up her things from inside the library she walked down to O’Reilly’s, the Irish bar that Ian’s parents owned. The bar was busy for a Tuesday night.
She scanned the room quickly, looking to see if there was anyone there that she knew and spotted Blake tucked away in a corner with a group of people. He caught her eye and waved her over.
Just then the fire alarms went off in the bar. A brief silence acted as a prelude to panic when all the drunk twenty something’s, rushed towards the exits—right where Selma was standing. Like a deer caught in headlights she froze as people crowded around her pushing towards the door. She tried to move to turn around but people surrounded her on all sides. Selma lost her balance and fell to the floor. She panicked—she was about to be trampled on. Someone stepped on her ankle and she heard a crack as a sharp pain ran up her leg. Selma screamed loudly, angry that drunk people were so inconsiderate and senseless.
She suddenly felt her body being lifted off the ground. Blake had picked her up off the floor as he followed the crowd outside.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Volumne I, Issue 5: Irish Dreams
Ian O’Reilly was sitting in the living room of his apartment reading through study-abroad brochures. The next semester would be his last semester of college and he was still feeling panicked about graduating and finding a “real job.” He had a wild idea that maybe if he studied abroad his last semester, he could find a job in whatever exotic place he was studying in and just stay there the rest of his life. That was Ian’s typical fear response: run away.
So far it was between Ireland (his motherland—he and Birdie were 1st generation Irish-Americans), New Zealand (hey!—that’s where the Lord of the Rings series was filmed!) or France (lots of sexy women there—ooh lala!). So far Ireland was winning. For starters, they spoke English there. Secondly, he had some distant relatives that still lived in Dublin. He was sure he could stay with him while he was there which would cut back on the financial burden of having to pay a host family. He could also stay with them for a longer period of time should he find some sort of work while there.
His parents were against the idea. The whole reason they moved to the states was to get away from Ireland and now he wanted to go back? They were irate and couldn’t understand his persistence in wanting to travel to Dublin. It didn’t matter how many stories of hardship they told him, he wouldn’t listen. Once he had an idea in his head, it was an almost impossible task to convince him to change his mind.
He grabbed the Ireland brochure and stuffed it in his backpack along with the rest of his books. Picking up his backpack, he left his apartment to head to campus for his Shakespeare class.
The bus stop was on the very corner of the road that his apartment was. While waiting for the bus he noticed the neighbor across the street was staring at him. She was slowly smoking a cigarette and looked very comfortable on the front porch glider. He checked her out from the corner of his eye. She was cute and seemed mysterious—just his type.
The screech of the bus’s brakes pulled him from his momentary trance. He made a mental note to someday get up the courage to introduce himself to this mystery neighbor. In the meantime, he planned on fantasizing about Ireland until he got to campus.
So far it was between Ireland (his motherland—he and Birdie were 1st generation Irish-Americans), New Zealand (hey!—that’s where the Lord of the Rings series was filmed!) or France (lots of sexy women there—ooh lala!). So far Ireland was winning. For starters, they spoke English there. Secondly, he had some distant relatives that still lived in Dublin. He was sure he could stay with him while he was there which would cut back on the financial burden of having to pay a host family. He could also stay with them for a longer period of time should he find some sort of work while there.
His parents were against the idea. The whole reason they moved to the states was to get away from Ireland and now he wanted to go back? They were irate and couldn’t understand his persistence in wanting to travel to Dublin. It didn’t matter how many stories of hardship they told him, he wouldn’t listen. Once he had an idea in his head, it was an almost impossible task to convince him to change his mind.
He grabbed the Ireland brochure and stuffed it in his backpack along with the rest of his books. Picking up his backpack, he left his apartment to head to campus for his Shakespeare class.
The bus stop was on the very corner of the road that his apartment was. While waiting for the bus he noticed the neighbor across the street was staring at him. She was slowly smoking a cigarette and looked very comfortable on the front porch glider. He checked her out from the corner of his eye. She was cute and seemed mysterious—just his type.
The screech of the bus’s brakes pulled him from his momentary trance. He made a mental note to someday get up the courage to introduce himself to this mystery neighbor. In the meantime, he planned on fantasizing about Ireland until he got to campus.
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