Saturday, January 2, 2016

The Wild Haired Girl and the Quest.

There was a wild haired girl with myopic eyes, who found herself journeying through the forest--you know the one; the kind you can't really see, because of the trees.

The wild haired girl thought she knew the way, following the glittering path--of cookies (she had a weakness for cookies), which were rudely eaten by the black birds and squirrels inhabiting the vast tract of land.

She found herself lost, wandering hopelessly, looking for a way out. The once friendly trees and forest became something else--a place of twisted paths and forgotten memories.

Then she tripped and fell into a mud puddle.

She really needed some coffee.

Looking up past the branches she spied grey clouds rolling in, thick and heavy, darkening the sky, a rumble of thunder made her bones vibrate. A bright flash of lightening exploding above her making the wild haired girl flinch. The wind, at first warm, began to blow, sharp and cold, followed by the rain. It wasn't a light mist, but fell in great sheets, a torrential downpour drenching her, running over the hard ground and filling her shoes.

"Really?" She groused, and sloshed forward, tripping again, and found herself under an outcropping of rock. Thinking it stupid to continue she wriggled underneath, hugging herself, glad most of the rain was off of her.

She wasn't pleased.

The rain continued to pour. Eventually she fell asleep, because that's what people in stories like this do, sleep at inappropriate times.

"Well this is a situation." A perky voice woke the wild haired girl from her doze. The rain had stopped, unhelpfully, well after she was miserable. Before her she found a portly woman with pink and green hair, smoking a pipe, digging through a large shoulder bag and wearing...

"Is that a tu-tu?" The wild haired girl exclaimed, "And are those uggs?"

"Yes, keeps my toes warm" The woman wiggled her feet to demonstrate.

"Who are you exactly?" The wild haired girl was not in a good mood, she was wet, things were chafing, this was not a good day in general.

"Your fairy god-person." The woman told her bonking her on the head with a plastic wand.

"Hey! I thought it was god-mother!" The wild haired girl snapped, waving away the cheap stick. "And stop it!"

"We're trying to be more twenty-first century," chirped the annoying fairy, "and I'll quit bonking you when I want to."

"I will break your little wand" warned the wild haired girl, standing up, trying to wipe off the sticky mud, managing to smear it--and those were her GOOD jeans.

"What a whiner." The fairy rolled her eyes, but stopped whacking her with the wand. "C'mon, follow me."

"Why?" The wild haired girl eyed the pink fluff of a skirt wondering if it would work as a hand towel.

"So I can lead you out of here, unless you want to stay..." The fairy huffed. "I've got better things to do, some chick in a tower needs some help."

"FINE. lead on." The wild haired girl really wanted something hot to drink. Like coffee (she was a smidgen obsessed with the drink).

The fairy floated ahead as the wild haired girl trudged after, resenting the gossamer wings which looked like they were repaired with bits of scotch tape. They worked at least. She led her to a small town, nestled at the edge of the large stone mountain, and into a tiny stone cottage smelling of mothballs.

"You'll stay here until you have the courage to go over that mountain." The fairy told her, tapping the mantel of the chipped stone fireplace, igniting the neatly stacked wood, and illuminating the small space. The golden light revealed, not a quaint area as one would assume, but one with a cracked formica table, a green and brown broken couch listing to one side, and a rickety looking side table with a lamp perched precariously on it.

"What is this? You really..." The wild haired girl looked about her in disbelief.

"You're welcome," said the fairy, "I'd give you an upgrade, but I had to get a lottery ticket and tobacco and taxes are obscene."  She twirled around, "Now I could give you possible something better if you're willing to to shack up with a few others, and do some service like washing dishes. I think an gremlin and troll may have some room..."

"Ug, no, " The wild haired girl waved the offer away. Trolls were known to fart continuously, and gremlins collected dirty socks, the stinkier the better. Plus she hated washing dishes. She'd stick to this crappy place. "Why can't you just bring me home?"

"Against the rules, some idiot decided character building was in order for all lost in the woods." sighed the Fairy, "So, tomorrow, you have to decide if you want to go over the mountain, because that will lead you to where you want to go."

Whatever happened to three wishes? Probably on vacation in Aruba.

"Will it have coffee?" the wild haired girl huffed, as she investigated the small space, hoping for something good to eat. Opening a cabinet all she found were a months supply of canned fruit, tuna, crackers, bottled water and expired hot chocolate. The drawer held only a can opener, one fork and aspoon. "It's got to be better than here."

"There may be cookies over the mountain..." cackled the fairy, puffing on her pipe, amused at watching the efforts of her charge as she poked around.

"sure..." the wild haired girl said with disbelief, although she'd really did want a cookie, with coffee, all would go a long way in making this bad day better. "and gold too I suppose."

"Wrong mythos." The fairy told her. "It's a journey, you know, finding yourself, yadda, yadda...."

"How is it that you get to deliver this news, but I have to live it? How fair is that?" The wild haired girl was growing resigned to this frustrating turn of events. "It's so much easier if you just bring me home."

"It's all in the contracts." the fairy dug through her bag, frowning, and making it obvious she was only half listening. "I'm actually here because I owed a favor."

"Great, I'm a left over favor."  The wild-haired girl wanted a shower, and arguing with the fairy was going nowhere. Obviously she'd take the journey, there was only so much tuna she could consume, that alone propelled her. "So how long is this journey over the freaking mountain?"

"A month should do it." She waved her plastic wand, and a stained and bulging backpack appeared on the couch. "Here's your stuff, change of clothes, a tent, water, you know the crap you need for travel. There's some way stations I think. There is also supposed to be coffee but I'd have someone else drink it first, and maybe your goals, but that's not for certain. There's some talk of striking in the find yourself department." The fairy fluffed her hair. "Gotta go, have a hot date with a tooth fairy."

And with a puff of pipe smoke, the pink and green weirdness was gone.

Finally! With relief the wild haired girl endured the tepid shower, shrugged on the synthetic orange floral pajamas left for her--they were dry even if they were a fire hazard. The bed was the couch, it was lumpy, and she didn't want to know what caused the stains, managed to arrange the brown, orange and green afghan around her comfortably. As she stared into the dying fire, realizing she could survive on no internet, television, radio, and phone.  Maybe the tuna wouldn't be so bad...

She opened the only book she'd found in the place, squinting at it with growing horror. It was a dog-eared paperback discussing in depth the conjugation of Latin verbs.

That's it. She's was going over that mountain tomorrow. 

(The end of this story will be written for January 26 or 27th)


How obvious was it that I'm the wild-haired girl?  Forgive this bit of self-involved tale, truthfully I don't have a fairy anything, but wouldn't that be fun? 

The one truth I do have is I am going to a month long personal journey. I am taking a break from all social media. I will only check my email once a day. ONCE. Yes, this is going to kill me. I'm going to avoid anything online. I will use lots of pen and paper.

Of course work requires me to be use the computer--so there will be that. I am also going to keep my social interaction with people to a minimum; but I have a family. No escaping. (ha!) I am going to really try to find out where I need to go, and what I need to, and how I need to get there. Like the story above--I have to discover a bit more of myself, and it's better to do it at the beginning of the year instead of flailing around in the middle of it.

It's not for a year. It's only for a month, and I may do it again later in the year if it helps.

It can't hurt.

For those of you who do need to communicate with me--I will check email once a day--and I can't escape the phone or text.

I'll be back January 25th. I'll tell you how it goes and maybe I'll finish the above story....

 Have a very HAPPY NEW YEAR

(I do have ONE exception, I'll be scheduling marketings posts--because this waits for no man....) 


  1. I totally understand and appreciate the allegory. See you when you get back and know we'll be here...

  2. I totally understand why you're doing this. I wish you the best of luck and wonderful discovery on your journey

  3. Well... I don't understand, but I get it since I, too, have limited my social media postings and amped up my solitary time to find myself.
    If you haven't read Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way", treat yourself and buy a copy. But be gentle with yourself when you read it, because it's a scalpel. It cuts you open and pulls out your gunky dreams and trials and errors and failures and holds them up for you to inspect and claim. I know... sounds harsh.
    For myself, I am only in chapter 3. And still trying to decide what to be when I grow up (big b'day next month - who says I'm a grownup?).
    Okay Wild Haired Girl. Take care and see what you can figure out. You know my number if you need me. Muuuah!

    1. Hugs Pamela,
      I think we all go on a quest in our own way amd at different times.
      I love the Artist's Way, I did that years ago when I was flailing -it is beautiful and heart wrenching,there are lessons there I need to relearn. So, I cheer you on!
      And I will be sure to call you in the midst of this sojourn to see how yours is.. muuuah!
      --the wild haired girl

    2. Hugs Pamela,
      I think we all go on a quest in our own way amd at different times.
      I love the Artist's Way, I did that years ago when I was flailing -it is beautiful and heart wrenching,there are lessons there I need to relearn. So, I cheer you on!
      And I will be sure to call you in the midst of this sojourn to see how yours is.. muuuah!
      --the wild haired girl

  4. Hugs for your journey. If your quest relates to writing, I feel for you. My own journey has taken me to some pretty dark places, but I know you'll fight your way back just as I have. Remember, you have lots of friends out here cheering for you.

    1. Thank you Diane! This means the world to me. ♡

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  5. Well, my wild haired friend, I am proud of you for setting off on this quest of learning. What better thing to study than our own minds and interworkings? I will be on the sidelines in my own tutu hoping along with the weird fairy god thing that you surmount the mountain and come out the other side with lots of good insights and love for yoursel

    1. Well, the rest of my sentence disappeared. Lol. I said, "love for yourself. Love you bunches, my friend."

    2. You are awesome! :) It's an adventure...there may be dragons.
      Hugs Jillian! :)

  6. You are so brave and awesome. I hope you rock this month and make self-discovery as much fun as possible.

    1. You are awesome yourself Linda!
      Thank you!
      Hugs to you!

  7. Replies
    1. Thank you Tyrean--- I am about ready to return-- it's been well worth the journey. :)

    2. Thank you Tyrean--- I am about ready to return-- it's been well worth the journey. :)