My Cardboard Balcony

Watched a high school production of  Beauty and the Beast tonight. It was cute. I thought the show was fun, and it was the first time I ever got to saw it live. And for some reason I want to play Belle...? Keep in mind, I never wear dresses. Yet somehow, I think I can forgive a dress on me for the sake of this role. It's weird because I haven't officially been in a show since 2007. Yes, I've done little film performances, especially in my girlfriend's videos. But I don't do a whole lot of acting. And I have kind of mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I really do love acting and wouldn't mind performing in some of my own projects. On the other, I don't want to be in a company play because I have to audition. I hate auditioning because I think, in many respects, I don't show my real, natural attitude in front of a group of critical onlookers. Who knows. Maybe one day, I'll be onstage again. Hell, I've never been in a musical - that could ...

"Caramel Kisses" is an unfinished novel I began to write back in 2009 and stopped working on in 2010. The two main characters - Adriana Maguire Reynard and Emma Burking - would ultimately be revised for my later completed novella, "The Liffey Is Half-Asleep," in 2011. Several elements of "Liffey" can be found in their original forms in "Caramel Kisses," such as the characters' names, the haiku scene, and Adriana's penchant for writing. Because of its influence on my later writing, I figured that this story, though incomplete, was worth sharing. Caramel Kisses: Chapter Eighteen by Belinda Roddie “Emma?” “Hmmm?” “What do you really want the most out of life?” She smirked. “That’s a stupid question.” “Why?” “Because you should already know.” “Then I’ll say I want to be sure.” I smelled the hot chocolate that Emma had been heating in the microwave. I heard the whirring of the tired appliance as it quieted down, whining an...

"I've avoided that man like the plague," griped Sarah as she sat down on the couch with her tall mug of chamomile tea. "He was the embodiment of everything bad for me. I gained too much weight around him. Then I lost too much weight. Then I started smoking, then switched to hard liquor. Another year with him, and maybe I would have been on the street with cocaine dust in my left nostril." "Was he really that influential?" "No," said Sarah, shaking her head for emphasis. "He just bullied me into a lot of things. Influential isn't the right word - abusive is."

The Tree Stopped Growing by Belinda Roddie The tree stopped growing in the middle of the square, and it stayed as a short, stout sprig of what it could have been. Still, the town loved its presence. They called it the Dwarf, and big trees did not receive such fair attention. One day, a child took a piece of its bark, and it was rough and thin within her hand. She dug a hole and buried it, a spark of hope lighting her eyes. She thought a small tree would grow just like the Dwarf, and yet no twig sprouted from the dirt. Her family all pitched in to find a little tree just so their little girl could have her own short, stout tree, which she simply couldn't live without.

People do hateful things for the sake of their "values." They spit on those they deem immortal because they feel it is what God expects of them. As if he keeps a long, typewritten list and gestures at a name to scourge. They kick down those who fall hard because they believe the fall is not long or hard enough. They believe they are the judges of suffering. Their shoulders are heavy due to their own fool's scales.

So by Belinda Roddie She wanted to be a critic, so she lambasted everyone and everything she loved. So she lost all of her friends in the process because they thought negativity was the worst lens to see the world through. So she began to criticize them more and claimed that she saw things realistically. So she got a job as a critic, so she was known for nitpicking everything that people usually praised, so they didn't take her reviews seriously. So she got belligerent. So she started drinking. So she hiccuped her cynical ballad as she fell asleep outside her apartment with the key half-extended from her blistered fingers. So the landlord kicked her out. So she wandered. So she scathed. So she dug herself a hole beside the railroad tracks and stayed there, so she could curse the world for being unkind to her cracked lens.

When my mom told me I wasn't being active enough, I countered with a morning sprint with zombies roaring in my earphones. When she told me I needed to cool down once in a while, I literally dunked my head under running water in the sink. I always liked to mess with my mom like that - since she never seemed satisfied with my state of mind or lack of equilibrium, I took her advice as literally as possible. Needless to say, she liked talking more to my husband than to me after a while.