Totally Ky: Summer Special 2015: Thursday Part 2 (Featuring Shawnee and Sarah)

Odd weeks are Shawnee's & even weeks are Sarah's

P.S Something is going on with the formatting on here that I don't understand so bare with me. I'm trying to fix it but the formatting looks fine in the editing side of the program but when I looked at what you guys see the font size is all messed up.

Week Six
Go to a coffee shop and closely watch two people interact. Then write a scene about two people in a coffee shop.

Week Seven
Do a detailed character sketch for a fictional character about whom you would never, ever want to write. Work to avoid making anything that would capture your own interest

Week Eight
What a character wearing red is thinking

Week Nine

Never underestimate the lives of old men sitting on park benches
-----

Week Six

Go to a coffee shop and closely watch two people interact. Then write a scene about two people in a coffee shop.

- We went to starbucks

The victims

When you are a Mother you assume that you will always have a close relationship with your daughter. Your daughter is glued to your side for so many years, you just believe that it will always be so easy to be so close. As I sit with my daughter inside Starbucks I now know that just isn't so.

When Ashley started college I would call her twice a week, invite her to dinner or a movie. I have even bribed her with shopping sprees on Mom. But here we are, Ashley now in her 3rd year of college, and our relationship has been reduced to a coffee shop.

We find a spot to sit and Ashley takes her Kindle from her purse. A definite sign she doesn't want to have a conversation with me. I then take my kindle from my purse. I pretend to read, but really I am desperately trying to think of something to say or ask that would spark a conversation. How did we end up like this? Why do I feel like I am sitting next to a stranger? What did I do wrong to create this wedge between us? What can I say to fix this and make things better between us?

I lean over towards Ashley and say "how is your pastry?" Ashley looks up from her reading and says "Oh, it's really good."

Mother and I went to a nearby starbucks today on our vacation because our hotel didn't offer free wifi. I had a caramel frappuccino and mother had something hot for her sore throat. We didn't speak much while we sat at separate small circular tables that were set high in front of a long booth like bench. We were both doing school work for the university. My mother, as a professor, read papers she had to grade via the new tablet the school forced upon her. My mother is not tech savvy. She is struggling in an age where papers are emailed instead of printed and turned in and books are read on kindles and other electronic devices. I myself read a copy of "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodo Dostoyevsky on my kindle fire. I need the wifi to look up questions I have while reading. I've read the book before but because I had to write a paper on it I needed to make sure I had a complete understanding and thorough analysis of the novel.

When I look up from my kindle I see a girl with sunglasses on that I feel like is staring at me. But because I can't see her eyes I can't tell. In trying to see her eyes I realize I'm staring at her now and if she hadn't been starring at me now here was a stranger staring at her. I put my attention back onto my book. I hate when people where sunglasses. It makes me anxious and uncomfortable when I can't see there eyes.

I look up again and see that she's taking a picture of a little girl sitting in front of her. I look away quickly when I realize I'm probably in the picture. Mother leans over to me. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." I answer. "Just distracted." She smiles, goes back to her grading. I go back to my reading while I take a bite of my chocolate filled croissant. After a few minutes the girl in sunglasses leave with who I assume is her little sister and mother.

Who wears sunglasses indoors?

Week Seven
Do a detailed character sketch for a fictional character about whom you would never, ever want to write. Work to avoid making anything that would capture your own interest

The IRS is where Phil works. It’s not his passion, but trudging through taxes makes for a steady job. Phil is not a sociable person. When he interviewed for his job he made sure that in his position he would never, ever have to talk to annoying, whiny people calling in to complain about taxes, tax forms, tax codes, extensions or bankruptcy. The interviewer jotted a note in Phil’s file, secretly agreeing that subjecting taxpayers to Phil would be worse than being audited while eating ghost peppers.

Phil speaks to others as little as possible. He rarely sees his mom and emails her once a month, only to appease her, and so that she doesn’t drop in to visit him. He nods silently at the checkers at the local grocery store but refuses to engage in chit-chat about the weather, sports teams or the quality of produce. “Help out?” the checker asks. He shakes his head, not smiling. He blinks and leaves.

There are no pets or decorations at Phil’s apartment. He has a neatly-groomed moustache, a nearly-empty fridge, practical shoes, no muscle tone, a subscription to The Wall Street Journal, and no hobbies. Don’t bother saying hi to him in the lobby of the apartment building. Don’t invite him to your parties. And don’t ask him for help on your taxes.

Michael Glasson was a user. He searched for innocent, naive and insecure girls. He looked for girls that just wanted to find love but believed they could never have love because of some fault in themselves. He took advantage of them. He played them. He told them he didn't mind what they saw as a flaw. He thought they were beautiful if they felt ugly. He said they were smart if they felt stupid. He made them feel worth it when they felt worthless. And then he left them. With nothing but a picture, a poem, and a broken heart.

Week Eight

What a character wearing red is thinking

I am a brave warrior, like a fierce action hero in a red cape.

Oh, who I am kidding? I feel humiliated. Red is not my color. This is so embarrassing. I wish my aunt hadn’t made me wear red today. “Wear something red to the airport so my third cousin will know it’s you,” she commanded. And I obeyed. I love my aunt Polly (she’s bossy but loveable) but telling me to wear red is too much. I’m shy. I’m a neutral-wearing, observing-from-the-corners kind of person. I don’t do leopard print. I don’t do crazy belts. And I don’t do red. Red is for brave, loud people. Red gets attention. I don’t want attention. “She’ll definitely notice you in this. Red stands out,” Aunt Polly said. “You won’t blend into the crowd.” Yeah. About that…

Well, this awful red business is working, I guess. There is a lady getting off the plane, waving a scarf at me and hightailing it over here, dragging a red purse. “Ooooooh, I knew it was you immediately,” she’s saying. “Polly said to look for the teenager in red and here you are! I’m Cousin Lou. You are just as cute as a button! Red buttons! They’re my favorite. Red is my favorite! Oh, we’ll have SO much to talk about. I can tell we’ll be like two peas in pod. Woooowheee, I’m excited to be here! You’re a quiet one, aren’t you? That’s okay. I’ll talk while you show me where you parked. I’ve had four cups of coffee and I can’t stop talking. Ya know, honey, red really is your color…”

Hour 1

Dory clicks her heels together after she puts the sparkly red heels on. Maybe this isn't what Dorothy would have worn strutting down the yellow brick road seeing as it wouldn't be comfortable for traveling but Dory was going for a more current version of her name sake for the halloween party. She wore her long brown hair down and curly as if she took it out of braids and a more trendy version of the white a blue plaid dress.

Once she's dressed she walks out of her best friends bathroom into the living room where the festivities would be held. Dory has never been to a party before and finds her mind wondering as she waits for Kate to finish changing into her Alice costume. The girls had agreed on retro costumes to be more original. Dory wonders how many people will show up. Kate invited a little bit less than twenty. But she was sure most of them had better things to do on halloween night, better parties to attend.

Hour 2,

No way! The whole school is at Kate's house! What is going on?

Hour 3,

Who brought the beer! Dorry is freaking out when she sees the red cups being passed around.

Hour 4,

Their parents are going to kill them! Is that sirens? Oh . . . Someone just pucked on her ruby red heels.

Hour 5,

Never again.

Hour 6

Regret.

Week Nine

Never underestimate the lives of old men sitting on park benches