Vintage Trolling

My boyfriend, Jaimie, and I creatively collaborated for the first time! I introduced him to one of my childhood favorites; the movie called Troll. It’s such a bad movie.. it’s good! We utilized this flick for his new magazine called: Rob’s Video (you can purchase it here):

The first issue of Rob’s Video has arrived! Lovingly named after the local neighborhood video store from my childhood. This zine is a love letter to crazy genre films and video store culture. With a wide array of contributors giving interviews, reviews, and stunning artwork. All made with a passion for those bygone eras of insanity in film. Conversations about horror, westerns, gore, etc. leap from the page. Plus artistic tributes to films like Puppet Master, Hammer Films, and even Troll. Take a deep dive into B-movie culture by opening the pages of Rob’s Video.

The Potters just moved into an apartment complex, filled with interesting neighbors: a beefcake veteran, a playboy, a professor, an actress, and a princess. An enchanted ring finds Wendy Potter, the young daughter, who doesn’t seem like herself upon wearing it. Her older brother, Harry Potter Junior, is the only one who notices the changes in Wendy. Their folks presume she’s homesick and/or upset about the move. Harry Potter Junior seeks refuge at his neighbor’s upstairs apartment, Eunice St. Clair. At first, Eunice seems to be just a grouchy old lady who isn’t fond of visitors, especially uninvited kids, but Harry grows on her. Her apartment is decorated in medieval style, which intrigues Harry’s interest in learning more about her and thus divulging about his familial woes. Eunice begrudgingly decides to take Harry’s worries seriously and help him save his family. She not only believes Harry, but trusts him enough to let him see her magical mushroom that she’s been hiding under a lamp shade. He’s adorable by the way! He reminds me of Beaker from the Muppets; squeaky comedic relief with expressive facial features.

Eunice gives Harry a history lesson: she tells him the story of what or better yet.. who has possessed his sister.. a faerie of sorts, mean, and very strong.. a troll! The troll’s name is Torok, who was human (Eunice’s estranged lover), he’s vowed his revenge to wipe out humanity and rule the world.. once again! Torok chose one token specimen to be spared, Wendy, who will serve as the Princess of the Faeries. Eunice supplies Harry with a magical spear to defeat the biggest, most powerful creature he can find for which it represents the heart of Torok’s universe. “It’ll be mean, it’ll be ugly, and it will not be glad to see you!” Harry embarks on an epic journey, going from apartment to apartment that Torok transformed into different faerie worlds. Will Harry find his sister in time and save all of humanity?! You’ll just have to watch Troll to find out!

Troll is the ultimate 80’s bad movie with a horror fantasy charm! It’s sprinkled with a couple people you may recognize: Sonny Bono, the mom from Lassie, Atreyu from The NeverEnding Story, and Elaine from Seinfeld. There are some brief, gross transformation scenes that I can’t help but look away from.. Hey, I have a squeamish stomach. Sue me. Hahaha, I haven’t used that phrase in forever!

What’s a bad movie without a couple random musical/dance numbers that have no relevance to the storyline whatsoever? The faerie creatures chant a mystical song called “Cantos Profanae,” that I thought was just gibberish or Latin, but according to the internet.. there are lyrics, which make no sense:

Time of Tempest tu… He hath heard of this 

Pierce of weary ache and pain. Time on! 

Herba Way, herba herba, herba herba way. Tempest!

Harken hen, harken, harken, harken, hen! Ahhhhh!

Oh sirrah save us save us. Oh sirrah oh la fey la [repeat a dozen times]
” 

Harry Potter Senior takes a Kit-Kat break (not really) by poppin’ on a Blue Cheer record and jammin’ out to Summertime Blues. His freestyle dance moves (I’m sure he choreographed himself) are chilling: from his lip syncing, wide legged stomping, puckered lips, air guitar, and his squirrely eyes bare into your very soul. Mrs. Anne Potter is startled by the sudden bass that shakes her dish rack into the sink. She attempts, and fails, to tell her husband to turn it down, because she sees him enjoying his tunes in his own unique way. Everybody has their own way of settling in. Hey, moving is one of the most stressful life events!

This bad movie holds a special place in my heart because I first watched it as a child and I related to Wendy Potter because I was also a curious little girl who could see herself venturing off by herself, exploring a new place, interacting with every person, losing her toy down a dark, scary basement, and daring to retrieve it.

The setting sparked my interest in “communal living” because of the apartment building the Potters move into. So much in fact that every time I’d play the fortune-telling game M.A.S.H. (Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House), I hoped for “Apartment” and made it come true because the first home I bought was a.. condo; shocking, I know! 

SPOILER ALERT: four years later, a sequel was created, Troll 2, which is infamously described as the worst movie ever.. with only a five percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes.. if that gives you any clue as to how gnarly it is. You have been warned.. proceed at your own risk! By the way, no one from the original cast returned for the second installment of the Troll saga.



It was such an honor that Jaimie asked me to collaborate with him on a creative project, let alone on his new magazine! We were first inspired to do this project whilst watching the documentary: 24×36: A Movie About Movie Posters (highly recommend). Immediately after viewing the movie, Troll, we brainstormed the overall design of the movie poster: the ringed Troll holding Wendy’s stray ball, his mismatched shadow on the apartment door (foreshadowing when he embodies Wendy.. gotta love the wordplay, haha), and the overgrown railing leading up the staircase. Jaimie drew our ideas to life and I formatted the movie title, advertising slogan, and billing block. I did not initially envision our movie poster to be in black and white, but it makes sense in regards to a simple, cost effective, moderately produced magazine. I am interested in seeing our movie poster in color and I hope we can display it in our home some day!

I’m looking forward to collaborating with Jaimie again soon for his next issue of Rob’s Video! Please stay tuned. You don’t wanna miss it!

Do-Si-Do

Grab your partner, do-si-do!

Life is a dance; whether you have two left feet or..

Not.

“Happiness is only real when shared.”
-Christopher McCandless

I highly recommend this movie (or book, if you rather) because it resonated with me on many levels. As good as your intentions are, no matter how knowledgeable you may be; life is unpredictable.

What's something you had to learn the "hard way" - but that you're happy you know now?

Not to stew in my own misery.

I had to learn that the hard way.

I had to learn to not to feed the monster.

Conflict with myself.

Internal battles.

Fight against my rational mind vs my OCD.

Every little thing bothered me.

They built up rather quick and I had to address every single one.

I took it out on everyone around me too.

Watch out.

I was always on a warpath.

Better brace yourself if you were in my way.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman [scorned].”

You’ve been warned.

Avoid being thorned.

I have not mourned..

who I was.

I have only adorned..

my progress.

It was easier to just lash out and drink myself into the bottom of a bottle.

I’m happy I recognized I needed help.

Sought it.

Fought it.

Bought it.

And thought it..

all started inside..

Me.

Feelings become thoughts.

Thoughts become words.

Words become actions.

Actions become habits.

Habits have consequences.

I learned to follow the trail.

Stop it in its tracks.

I had to be taught how to function properly..

for my own sanity.

If I didn’t enjoy my own company..

why would anybody else?

It took years of therapy, deep digging, and internal reflection to learn how to be alone.

It was scary being by myself and not hate myself every second.

Every second seemed like an hour.

I know now that I was worth the trouble.

I deserved a second chance.

A second glance.

A second enhance.

A second romance.

Happy dance!


What are the non-negotiable traits that your [future] partner cannot have? What are the things they must have?

Narcissistic
Perfect manners
Un-stocked TP
Refuses to engage in any sort of PDA
Toxic masculinity
Poor hygiene habits
Strong hatred toward any group of people
Too political
Too religious
Two-faced
Greedy
Gym Rat
Cocky
Over-critical
Heckler
Wants a trophy wife
Gamer
Wants me to be their Mama
Has no room for compromise
Submissive
Judgmental
Alcoholic
Shopaholic

Silly sense of humor
Intelligent
Has common sense
Financially responsible
Good tipper
Gives constructive criticism
Gentle
Courteous
How they treat the wait staff
Animal lover
Likes to play board, card games
Avid reader
Confident
Has their own friends/hobbies/interests
Listen = Silent
Patient
Kind
Humble
Cryer
Does dishes
Decisive
Dominant
Not afraid to frolic
Bollocks

The traits I listed above are not for a future partner as the prompt asked because I already have a partner. We’ve been together for four years this upcoming May. Yet, it feels like a lot longer.. in a good way. In the best way, of course! I was also asked: “So, how does your partner compare to the list you wrote?”

I responded without hesitation: “If I had to dream up the ideal partner, Jaimie wouldn’t even compare. He’s more than I ever dreamed of. He set the bar high in teaching me how to be loved; thus helping me love myself.”

“Do you like hanging out with me?”
“Yeah.”

If you look closely, there’s a bird’s nest in the dinosaur’s mouth!

Sipping on wine, enjoying the view, & singing along to Dean Martin’s “That’s Amore.”

Pigeonholes

See more alleys here
What are some labels other people have given you? How well do they fit?

Organized
Stubborn
Open-minded
Attentive
Unique
Teacher’s pet
Honest
Sensitive
Bookworm
Submissive

Personable
Creative
Nerd
Dependable
Worry wart
Considerate
Different
Respectable
Outgoing
Helpful

Friendly
Expressive
Loyal
Determined
Fashionable
Easy going
Constructive
Private
Black sheep
Attention-seeker

Nurturing
Affectionate
Dyke
“Confused”
Anorexic
Funny
Assertive
Bitch
Free spirit
Insubordinate

Down to earth
Smart aleck
Approachable
Intimidating
“Life of the party”
Flirt
Anxious
Snowflake
Particular
Charitable

Ginger
Rebel
Weirdo
Contradictive
Trustworthy
Independent
Defiant
Inclusive
Good listener
Passive-aggressive

How well do these labels other people have given me.. fit?

Well, not so well.. Appearance alone, people presume I’m attention-seeking because of my mohawk and bright fashion style.

I believe I’m just expressing myself. Letting my freak flag fly so other “black sheep, weirdos, and different” people feel comfortable around me. An unspoken icebreaker. We all belong.. somewhere.

“Come sit over here next to me.”

I think if we took the time to get to know each other, we’d label each other less.

I’m not a fan of labels.

At.

All.

“Labels are for cans, not people.”

– Anthony Rapp

Soft Embrace

Someone gives you a big hug and whispers just what you needed to hear.

“You’re enough.”

“You’re worthy.”

“Because you’re worth it.” -L’Oreal.

Thank you for clipping me coupons.

“There’s that bright smile!”

“Both hands,” I always say when you try to give me a half hug..

It’s just..

Unacceptable!

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a two handed hug..

I know.

Soon.

You’re not a touchy-feely-kinda-guy and..

I get it.

You don’t want to break me.

Lose me.

Well, more hugs the better.

Maybe if we squeeze each other tight enough all of our broken pieces will stick back together.

Bring it on.

Let’s give it a go.

I welcome your hugs, half hug, two handed hugs, or any hug you wanna give me.

Time is against us.

Let’s not waste it.

I’m here.

I’m still here.

I’m your baby girl.

No matter what.

Bring it in, Big Guy.

Let’s..

Hug. It. Out.

Warning, Warning

See more alleys here
What are some "warning signs" that let you know you pushed your body &/or mind too far?

Locked knees

Strained eyes

Full bladder

Sore ankles

Greasy hair

Heavy heart

Dry, cracked skin

My patience is wearing thin

What have I gotten myself in.. to?

Same lounge wear

Dammit, a tear!

It isn’t fair

Shaky hands

Elastic waistbands

I’m in such high demand

Yet, any day, I’ll be canned

Getting lost.. in Wonderland.

Brain fart

Stumbling to speak.. my mind.

Word vomit

Tired.

Just.

Tired.

Beyond needing a rest

I’m doing my best

It’s weighing on my chest

All. Of. It.

I can’t seem to keep up.


If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Don’t press the red..head[ed] button!

Boohoo

I used to cry to get out of trouble as a kid.

When I was scared.

When I didn’t get my way.

I would cry myself to sleep..

Because I’d be worrying..

About what happened that day..

The day before..

The next day..

Or my days in the future.

I used to say: “Well, I didn’t cry today, so it’s a good day!”

Hell, I still say that..

On my bad days.

I don’t cry at funerals.

That’s when I laugh the most..

To be honest.

I feel I have to lighten the mood.

Even though..

“It’s super inappropriate [to do so],” some say.

I cry when I get mad because I’m a lover..

Not a fighter.

And I’m terrified of jail.

Ugly crying.

Snotty crying.

Can’t breathe, can’t speak crying.

Non-stop wet tears.

Dry tears..

Because I have no more tears left to cry.

Secluded crying.

Look at yourself in the mirror crying.

Group crying.

Public crying.

It all feels the same.

It’s an emotional release.

Screaming crying.

Weeping.

Sniffling.

Not wiping your tears crying.

Short burst crying.

Too long crying.

Hiding your tears.

Hiding your fears.

Beet red ears.

Soaked in embarrassment.

Doing the walk of shame.

Shrugging it off.

Dusting it off.

Faking it.

Denying it.

The evidence is there.

Own up to it.

Audience or not.

Just let it flow.

Get it out.

Don’t bottle up your emotions.

Cry.

It.

Out.

Bottle up your tears..

And drink it.

Cheers!

Two Cents

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Don’t over-think it.”

“It’s not you, it’s them.”

But the common denominator is..

Me..

Right?

They, them..

Me, me, me, me, me..

Duh.

There I go..

Over-thinking..

Again.

“No one thinks more about you.. than you. They’re too busy thinking about.. themselves.”

I’m sure I don’t even cross their mind.

You’re right.

That’s true.

“Don’t be blue.”

“Be you.”

Be unapologetically you!

“Only say sorry with purpose and sincerity. The more the word “sorry” is thrown around, it loses its value.”

“Less is more.”

In more ways than one.

Possessions.

Circles.

Design.

Dialogue.

Partners.

Jobs.

My anxiety and depression make it difficult to follow the pieces of advice I believe in because it’s a constant internal battle.

I care too much..

About everything.

I don’t care..

About anything.

It’s like living in my own personal hell.

I am the bully and the victim.

Sprinkle in my OCD to keep things interesting.

I kick my own ass.

Knock some sense into myself.

Hey, it’s okay..

I deserve it.

“Instead of giving yourself a pep talk in a mirror. Look at a photo of yourself.. as a child.. and give her a pep talk [your best advice]. It forces you to change your tone, huh?”

Be kind to her.

She’s you.

“Be kind to yourself.”

She’s doing her best.

And so are you!

Knock, Knock

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

[Silence]

I open the door to see the back of her head..

Walking away..

From me.

Knock, knock.

Who.

Is.

There?

[Silence]

I hate being ignored.

She’s a real piece of work.

It’s been five years since we’ve seen each other..

And spoken to one another.

I’ve seen her numerous times in between then.

I’ve tried reaching out.

All I’ve gotten is..

[Silence]

Silence..

Is..

So..

LOUD!

It’s deafening.

It hurts my ears.

It hurts my..

Heart.

What a heartless person.

It.

Just.

Hurts.

I try to see her perspective.

She may have her reasons.

She must have her reasons.

I’ve theorized quite a few.

If any/all are true..

I’ve accepted it.

I’m an only child.

Don’t even get me started on my brothers.

I’m an only child.

I’ve accepted it.

I do miss her.

Well..

I miss..

Certain parts of her.

Definitely not her..

Attitude.

Judgment.

Loose lips.

Superiority complex.

Insults.

I’d rather adjust to her absence..

Than be frustrated by her toxic presence.

My message to her that may very well forever go unanswered:

“Thank you.

Yes.

Thank.

You.

Thank you for showing me how not to be a sister.

Thank you for making room for other people..

Who have stepped up..

Who have chosen to be in my life..

They are my chosen family.

And you’re..

Missing..

Out.

Oh, well.”

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

[Silence]

I don’t care anymore.

This piece I wrote during another Journaling Workshop virtual event hosted by The Mighty that I attended earlier this week. Again, I can’t say enough about this group. They’re such a breath full of fresh air. I enjoy their company. We let all the feelings out on the floor. As I mentioned in my last post and the post before that, I highly recommend checking out their virtual events (&/or articles, social media posts, etc).

I debated about attending this virtual event since I’ve been under the weather, but I powered through it because I knew.. I needed it. It’s one of the few things I look forward to these days. Besides, nobody there could catch my germs, even if I was contagious.. Well, maybe their computer could catch a virus or two! Haha.. I’m glad I stuck it out and joined because a good piece came out of it. Go figure, even with my irritability and fatigue. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to churn anything out.. besides.. nonsense.

I chose the above photos to complement my piece because the covered bridge represents the care I had taken to preserve our estranged relationship. To bridge the gap.. between us. I kept hope alive longer than warranted. I didn’t want to burn any bridges. I’ve decided to take the high road. The covered bridge has a plaque that reads: Hyde Road. How fitting! How punny. Hy..de Road. High road.

The covered mailboxes are taken care of too. To protect those precious messages. Each mailbox is different. Varying in size, design, color, material, condition, and even how it’s attached to the post. Some by nails, brackets, or bungee cord! Some are barely holding on by a thread. Some are enclosed. Some are open ended with no cover. How symbolic of how we, humans, are.

Every family is dysfunctional.
I have chosen to function through the dysfunction.

Every relationship takes a hiatus.
I have chosen to make the most of the time I have.. with the people who choose to be.. Present.

Self-Love

Roses are red
Violets are blue
What does self-love mean to you?


Taking a breath.

Breathing in..

Deep..

Breathing out..

Just as deep.

Taking a break.

Breaking a bad habit..

Or two.

Breaking a dish.

Breaking out in song.

Break dancing while..

Not breaking..

Any bones.

Breaking the silence.

Breaking a barrier.

All. The. Breaks.

Sitting up straight.

Eyes closed.

Concentrating on the now.

Counting.

One.

Two.

Three.

Breathing in..

And..

Out.

Thinking about..

Nothing.

Everything.

Trying to concentrate on clearing some space for the good memories..

And re-homing the not so good.

Stretch..

Focus..

On. Every. Muscle.

Roll your head clock wise..

Counter clock wise.

Where has the time gone?

It’s self-love time..

Duh.

You deserve this time.

You’re the longest relationship you’ll ever have.

Might as well take care of yourself.

Enjoy your own company.

Don’t wait for the right one..

Be the right one..

And your life will change for the better.

Brighter days are ahead for you.

You.

Are.

Worthy..

Of.

Love..

-ing..

Yourself.

Embassy Suites Hotel with lit up rooms forming a heart

This piece I wrote in light of the upcoming holiday, Valentine’s Day, during another Journaling Workshop virtual event hosted by The Mighty that I attended earlier this week. I can’t say enough about this group. They really are such a lovely bunch to hang out with! I thoroughly enjoy being amongst them. Sharing and caring with them. As I mentioned in my last post, I highly recommend checking out their virtual events (&/or articles, social media posts, etc).

There are so many different types of Love:
Affectionate, enduring, familial, romantic, playful, platonic, obsessive, selfless, empathetic, nurturing, and.. Self-love.

I think we tend to forget the last one, which I think is the most essential.

We. Are. Important. Too.

It’s vital that we take care of ourselves.. every day.. and not just on holidays. Please share what self-love means to you and how you practice self-love in the comments. I’m interested to hear from you!

[Pull the] Trigger[ing]

Hide.

Conceal.

Modify.

Shape-shift.

Transform.

Curl up.

Freeze.

Divert.

Play dumb.

Misdirect.

Just..

Compliment them!

Say anything to make them go away..

To make this..

Feeling..

Go away!

Yeah..

That’s how I feel..

Inside my head when I’m recognized for..

All the wrong reasons.

I want to blend in.

Fade into the background.

Be invisible.

Forgotten..

IT’S BEEN TEN YEARS!

I can hear my mom saying: “Aww, baby girl.. you’re meant to stand out!”

Yeah..

Sure..

Time and place is important though.

Not now.

Not then.

But when?

I don’t know.

It may never end.

I’m spent..

Yet..

Rich.

Not with quantity but with quality.

Sure..

My circle is smaller; some by choice and others..

Out.

Of.

My.

Hands..

She’s so far..

Yet..

So close to my heart.

How could I let her go..

That way?

I know..

Tough choices had to be made.

I wasn’t mad.

I’m not mad.

I understand.

That’s where the gray comes in.

I do not live in a black and white world.

Nothing is as it seems.

And everything seems as it is.

Whoa.

This is..

Deep.

Deep within.

I hide.

Not wanting to be seen..

As I am.

For who I want to be.

I am me.

An empath who lives and loves.


Hey there.. It’s been awhile. I’ve been writing.. and not publishing. “The struggle is real.” This couldn’t be more true than anything I could possibly.. make up. Feeling is a process. I think.. it’s safe to say.. that we’ve all been feeling a lot in the past year. Damn. Has it been that long? Crazy. Crazy times. Crazy world. “We’re all in this together.” Yet.. we’re separated by space, time, and.. misunderstanding. Not to bring the mood down any further.. if that was possible! Haha..

So, I’ve been writing the same blog post since May. I accidentally scheduled to post it publicly before I was ready. Before it was complete. Whoops! Haha.. I quickly changed the visibility from public to private the next day (I plan on finishing it soon). Nonetheless, I hope my readers, followers, subscribers haven’t.. forgotten me (my blog).. and haven’t given up on me (my blog). When I felt like.. giving up. So many times. Those particular feelings are less and fewer in between nowadays. Took awhile to climb out of that.. dark hole.. yet.. it still lingers.. nearby.. like an old frienemy. I wave at it as I step.. on the edge. Other times, I stick my tongue out at it, flip it off, or lunge at it.. wanting to start a fight.

The writing piece above I titled: “[Pull the] Trigger[ing]” I wrote in a group Zoom video call organized by The Mighty Facebook page. I registered for their Journaling Workshop virtual event. The host created a couple writing prompts that we could utilize in a ten minute timeframe. Two rounds. Participants could share, or not, no pressure. Some drew in lieu of writing. Some recorded their voice per dyslexia in lieu of writing and read it to the group. Felt like a safe space. I tried to attend previous virtual events they held, but I couldn’t.. I wasn’t in the right head space to make that happen. I kicked myself quite a few times. But.. last night.. I made it happen. It was nice. I stayed online with this group for hours.. even joined their “After Hours” Zoom room.

Such a diverse group of creatives. All over the country. All. Over. The. World. So refreshing. We looked and sounded so different from one another.. yet.. felt similar feelings.. when we shared our pieces. If that doesn’t shake you, wake you.. Up. I don’t know what will. Thank you to the host of The Mighty. Thank you to the participants for sharing their stories.. and thus.. helping others in the process. Helping me. I highly recommend following The Mighty Facebook page. I know I’ll be joining more virtual events in the future. Hope to see ya there, maybe!

This blog post is definitely different in regards to style; compared to the previous I’ve written. It’s not a lengthy story. It’s a short journal entry. It breaks all the “rules” I’ve created inside my head of what my blog is supposed to be about.

Speaking of breaking, I chose the above photos to complement my broken writing. A fallen tree. Root and all. We’ve all been there, am I right? The fallen tree blocks paths needed to move.. on. To move forward. Somehow. There is a solution. You can go over it, under it, around it, or.. THROUGH IT. The people affected by this fallen tree decided to solve the problem by going through it. They cut through the trunk to get out.

My original blog theme:
“A picture, photographed or graphically designed, by yours truly attached with a creative written response of a thousand-ish words. Could be a tall tale, inspired by a true experience, a random journal entry, or an analysis of the photograph or design itself! Dealer’s choice.

A random journal entry. Check.
Picture(s)/Photograph(s). Check.
Dealer’s choice. Check.

I wrote something. I accomplished something. About damn time! Haha.. Glad to be back. Hope you enjoyed this blog post. Hope you’re hanging in there. Let’s do this. This thing called.. Life.