**Week one each month will be a standard Finish the Sentence Friday prompt, where we give you a prompt, and you write to the sentence as exactly or as loosely as you’d like to.
Week two each month will be a Listicle. Write a list based on the prompt we give you.
Week three each month will be a stream of consciousness. Write for five minutes, and share it. Kenya used to participate in this prompt and I’ve been in writing groups with Jena (THEY ARE AMAZING) that do it for 10 minutes. There’s much to be said about the free-write. You often find something you weren’t prepared to “talk about.” Free therapy, anybody?
Week four each month will be a photo share Friday, where you share a photo and the story behind it.
For the few months that have a fifth Friday in them, we’ll do a “Throwback Friday” post, where you can link an old post that needs some new love.**
And so, I slept (vacationed) through week two, which would have been awesome, but I’m here for week three – stream of consciousness. And the theme this week is winter. Anything winter. Will I stick to theme? Will I leap into weird directions?
We all need more therapy-like things in the winter, don’t we? I do like free therapy, in fact. I pay a lot for un-free therapy but she seems to think I have the tools to fly on my own for awhile. I always say I’m learning to fly, which is a Tom Petty song in my top five songs of all time. And I came here to talk about concerts. My first concert was a Tori Amos concert at Madison Square Garden. It wasn’t at the big stage, though. It was a quiet theater. Maybe called the Garden Theater? Maybe I’m making that up. I had visceral reactions to that concert, and really, all of them. Like Toad the Wet Sprocket and Bruce Hornsby. Tori played “Winter.” Know that song? Go listen to it. You won’t regret it. It’s probably in my top 15. Or 25.
I came here to talk about Dolores O’Riordan. I was just thinking the other day about writing my Cranberries concert story in my blog. I found out a few days later she had passed away. That was on my list. I never got to see her live. I always thought she’d be here. Never made it to see her, and never made it to Tom Petty either. I’m running out of time but I type so fast. I had tickets to a Cranberries/Collective Soul concert. I used to call my first car, Helga the Magic Lesbian, because I had seen that cartoon short on late night HBO. Just run with that one, ok? I was in college and it wasn’t winter. It was summer. I was delivering pizza and my dad kept warning me to get an oil change and I never listened. I had four tickets to the concert.
I gathered three close friends, put on a cool blue hippie top and sleek jeans, and we headed to our concert. About halfway there, on route 287, we heard a loud bang. I pulled my car over and it started smoking. We all ran away thinking it might blow up. This was before cell phones and we were four young, college-aged women on our way (or not on our way) to see the Cranberries! My friend Nammi (or maybe it was Melissa?) jumped the fence to use a pay phone at some office buildings, and tore her shirt. People kept driving by and beeping at us or catcalling us, but not actually helping? What a sight! Finally, AAA came and it was like in Adventures in Babysitting. The driver had a hook or a claw. And a weird sense of humor as well.
We squeezed all four of us in the front seat with him, because there was no back! We thought we might die, but it was a great opportunity to get the giggles too. I never got to the concert, and I never drove that car again. It makes a great story, though. I called my work that night to talk to my sister and I told the manager and short-order cook my story. They wanted to make me feel better so they sang, “Zombie” (badly) to me, and I laughed. “What’s in your head? What’s in your heeeeeaaaaad?” Zombie.” I’m sad she died. I had just been thinking about her. I’ll conjure her voice. I know how it lives.