[Hey Romy, remember Mrs. Divitz's class, there was like always a word problem. Like, there's a guy in a rowboat going X miles, and the current is going like, you know, some other miles, and how long does it take him to get to town? It's like, 'Who cares? Who wants to go to town with a guy who drives a rowboat? >> Michele Weinberger (Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion)]


“Jilly, Jill, Jillian,” Lucy chanted from her upside position on the couch. Her legs were hooked over the back of the couch and her head hung off the edge, hair pooling on the Mexican tile floor below. “I’m bored.”

“I’m studying,” Jill told her with a smirk. “Go bug some of the surfer boys.”

“Bleh,” Lucy declared with a face that would sour milk. “They’re high and stupid and they care about waves. Not so much about pretty girls in bikinis.”

Jill sighed and put down her book. “Luce, I really should get this homework done. Maybe we can go play afterwards.”

“Who takes summer classes anyway?” Lucy pouted.

“Me,” Jill stated the obvious, gesturing toward her books. “I want to be finished with school so I can start my life.”

“I don’t ever want to finish school because my life is started and I love it,” Lucy told her. She sat up, blond hair falling against her back as she pulled her legs underneath her. She then slumped over her knees. “Come on, Jill. Lie is right now and you’re missing it by sitting inside reading books and learning thing that you already know. You’re an amazing musician. You don’t need books and professors to tell you that.”

“Oh, so you’re anti-college now?” Jill teased. She started packing up her work with full knowledge that her study session was over. Lucy had won this round but then Lucy won all the rounds. It was just the way life worked. Everyone gave into Lucy eventually.

Lucy shook her head. “Nope. I’m pro college. It has football and boys and frat parties but I’m anti-serious. We’re young and we’re pretty and we live in a beach house. Also, there’s a new guy down the street. He just moved in and he’s got this hot little red convertible that we would look so good in. Want to go ask him out?”

“No!” Jill objected and Lucy laughed. The petite blond stood up and grabbed Jill’s wrist, pulling her from the couch.

“Well I do.”

Boyfriend of the week : John Parker Wilson, the quarterback for Alabama University’s Football team. Note from the mun: I try to discourage her from real people but she doesn’t listen to me so I’m just trying not to offend

He’s amazing, my baby. He can drill it in and make it look so pretty you wanna cry. The problem is, you apply a little pressure and he cracks like an egg. Once that happens he couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn. Everyone knows this and they use it against us. I’m pretty sure it’s a strategy in some places and what makes it worse is our backup is for crap so once my baby is cracked trying to get him back together is almost impossible. If I see one more person on the sidelines yelling at him, I might have to pummel someone to death because yelling is only gonna make it worse. You have to hold his hand, rub his back in little circles, maybe pat his butt a little and tell him how amazing he is. Positive reinforcement, yo!

I’m not saying I don’t want to strangle him. Especially when we’re up and it’s the fourth quarter. I want to yell as much as anyone but you’ve gotta have patience. And I will enforce that patience in my section any way possible. I punched a guy in the face for yelling at my baby last season and sooooo what if I broke my hand doing it. It was the Iron Bowl, JP was choking and he needed a little moral support. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that we not yell at him and tell him he’s sucking. Guess what, Baby is pretty smart along with looking pretty and being able to throw a tight spiral that makes my knees weak. He knows he’s sucking he also needs to know that we’re gonna love him even when he sucks. You know I love the Tide. In fact some people might call it an obsession but Tide fans suck sometimes. They’ve got no patience, no forgiveness and not enough understanding of how Baby works.

It’s all about the patience.

"A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort."
- Herm Albright (quotes)

Lucy was aware that most of the time people thought she was annoyingly cheery. Maybe annoyingly ditzy. Anyway the point was, she was aware that some people found her annoying. It wasn’t that Lucy didn’t get down or depressed. She did, just like everyone else. She just handled it differently; with snark or sarcasm, humor or an annoyingly fake, bright attitude. She didn’t see the point in moping, mostly because it gave her frown lines and Lucy was very anti-frown lines. In fact, Lucy was more prone to the ditzy, cheery façade when she was depressed or upset. If one knew her well, they’d realize she was faking it. However, Lucy was very clear on her point of view regarding faking it. Fake it until you make it.

Besides, annoying people was fun. They got all red faced and twitchy. If she was lucky, they’d yell and shake their fists in the air.

For quotethis_muses

They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days. >> Garrison Keillor

Lucy was in a funk. There was no other explanation for it. The cute boy at the coffee bar hadn’t flirted with her that morning. He’d been too busy actually working and then she’d actually had to show up for class, she’d skinned her knee and no one had helped her up. Life in Lucy Land was looking dismal which was why she was currently flung across the couch, her head in her best friend, Jill’s lap, a pout firmly fixed on her face.

“Hold me a wake, Jilly,” she suggested in a perfectly reasonable (read whiny) tone of voice.

Jill gave her a look that was clearly ‘are you insane?’ even though she was accustomed to Lucy’s antics by now.

“I’m serious,” Lucy continued in her perfectly reasonable (whiny) voice. The pout on her face wasn’t getting more pronounced. No. Not at all.

“Luce, I’m not having a wake for you,” Jill sighed and turned back to her notes. She had an English exam tomorrow that she sort of wanted to pass. Unlike Lucy, her goal in life was no professional student.

“Why not?” That perfectly reasonable tone was becoming more calm and even (read whiny) by the minute.

Jill arched an eyebrow at her, sparing her a cursory glance before turning back to her notes. “You’re not dead.”

“Trivial,” Lucy insisted. She turned half on her side; hands curling up underneath her chin to create a picture that she knew was perfectly adorable and pretty much irresistible unless you had a heart of stone (or were human and knew Lucy was trying to work you). “I want people to say nice things about me.”

Jill sighed and put her notes to the side for the moment. Obviously Lucy was going to require all her attention. It was a bit like having a two year old at times. Or a puppy with a bladder control issue and ADD. Not that Lucy was apt to pee herself at any minute…oh never mind.

“Lucy, people say nice things about you all the time.”
“Not today they didn’t.” Again perfectly reasonable…oh forget it. She was whiny and pouty and possibly annoying but it was Lucy. What were you going to do? “The boy in the coffee shop hardly looked at me and I was wearing the new Betsey Johnson dress and that pretty blush pink Hard Candy lip gloss. And in class the teacher acted like he’d never seen me before.”

“When was the last time you went to his class?” Jill asked. She had to play the reasonable mother because no one else in this house was going to.

“The first day of school. Are you trying to say I’m forgettable? See! Another reason to have a wake! People aren’t likely to forget me then. We can make sure everyone where fabulous black gowns and we’ll drink martinis and make everyone make a speech about me. Then after all the speeches are finished, I can come out of the bedroom wearing that really fantastic red Nicole Miller I have and say ‘Psyche!’. It will be fun.”

There was some waffling on Jill’s part, much brow furrowing and eyebrow raising. In the end, Jill did what she always did.

“I’ll send the invitations out tomorrow.”

That was the appropriate answer because Lucy was leaping out of her lap with a squeal and a twirl around the living room. There was some hopping and more dolphin-esque noises before Lucy ran off to organize Jill’s closet. Jill picked up her notebook, happy to be able to get back to her studying. Of course then she’d have a wake to plan.

For quotethis_muses


Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on baby, I taste gooood! >> Dean Winchester


Okay so he so my TV boyfriend. One of them anyway and this is like one of his trademarks. He does this thing where he uses himself as bait for things that like to eat him. And that…That would So. Totally. Work. On. Me. Vampire or not and let me just say I would make a totally lame vampire. I’d be like that girl in those books that’s like the vampire queen and she loves shoes. Betsy! I can’t remember the name of the books though. Off topic.

Back on topic. Which is Dean Winchester. And like –please- they’re so not going to kill him. Look at him. Seriously. He’s too pretty to die which reminds me of another TV boyfriend Malcolm Reynolds but again with the off topic. I do that. Dean is too pretty to die, the fan girls would riot and we’d hunt Kripke with flamethrowers and machetes. Okay so I wouldn’t use a flame thrower or a machete because I’m dangerous to myself without sharp or flamey objects. I’d still riot.

Because look at him. Like I’m not going to? Whatever. Lame.

It was a perfectly normal night for Lucy. She was home in Birmingham and she'd gone out with friends. Including a friend of a friend who would be perfect for her. It turned out he was less perfect, more driving her up the wall annoying (she actually threw her shoe at him and then made him retrieve said shoe). So Lucy had feigned a headache and swore she'd be fine to walk home. It wasn't that far. Only she didn't want to go home. It was a gorgeous night, warm and she had on the cutest new Betsy Johnson mini dress with a pair of to die for Choos. Plus, her hair was totally rocking tonight.

Lucy wanted to go party. Lucy wanted boys to flirt with her and tell her she was pretty and buy her drinks. With Umbrellas. She was girl she could drink fruity drinks with umbrellas. However, no matter how much Lucy wanted all this, she did not want to go back and sit with The Annoying One. Besides, if she cut through the alley and across the back lot, the Hounds Tooth was just right there. it was guaranteed to be crammed with cute boys who would do all those things. She could call a cab later to take her home.

And that was when Lucy heard something growl at her. Something largish and moving in the shadows. Lucy looked over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow at the shadows. That was when the shadows started moving toward her, very quickly. Lucy saw a flash of teeth and a scream caught in her throat. The fear was enough to make her run, quickly. However Lucy managed to fall and break things when she was walking. Which meant Lucy Locke=the blonde in high heels that falls and gets killed within the first five minutes of a horror flick.

She didn't even last three minutes. Her ankle (in the to die for Choos and who knew she'd really die in them) twisted and Lucy went down in tangle of bare legs, bare arms, Betsy Johnson mini and hopelessly scuffed Choos. Not to mention the scraping damage done to her knee and elbow.

She was hoping at least someone got this on video. God she hated The Annoying One. This was all his fault.

For muses_gonewild

You’re just lost

She was lost. And not in the physical sense. Well at the moment also in the physical sense but that was just a case of her life reflecting her emotional status.

Lucy squinted, trying to make the street sign come into focus. She really should wear her glasses when she drove but they were not cute unless she was reading and she wanted to look adorably studious. She glanced down at the address she’d written on a recipt from that cute little shoe store she loved. They had a pair of eggplant pumps she’d been eyeing for days. Maybe she’d go get them once she’d found this…crap she was pretty sure she’d driven past it.

Right now she had to focus on finding this place. And it was looking pretty ghetto which made her reach for her bag and fumble around in it for her…dammit. She’d taken the taser out. It was bulky and the cute, slim Coach bag didn’t really accomodate much more than her slim wallet, her keys and a lipstick.

“Great, I’ll get murdered, raped and pillaged in the ghetto of Berkeley but my corpse will be cute for the mortician,” she muttered to herself.

Nevermind the fact that really, Berkeley didn’t have a ghetto. She was dealing with Lucy Land and in Lucy Land, Berkeley had a ghetto. And she was lost in it. This would not have happened if Jill were with her. This would not have happened because Jill would have found the address on mapquest for her, she would have printed it out, folded it and put it in her Coach bag. Lucy, however, did not have to check to see if her purse contained a set of neatly folded directions because Jill was not there. Jill was in Alabama. She’d taken the semester off because her dad was sick. Lucy understood her reasons for not being there, she even supported them most days. However, today Lucy just wanted her best friend. And it wasn’t just because she was lost in the ghetto of Berkeley. It was because the beach house was lonely and her closet was tired of being reorganized and going out wasn’t as much fun without Jill.

Lucy was lost and even when she found her address she’d still be lost because her map quest was in Alabama indefinitely

Ah, this is obviously some strange usage of the word 'safe' that I wasn't previously aware of. >> Arthur Dent (Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)


“Luce…there is no way this is safe,” Jill hissed from where they were standing on the river bank.

“Kids do it all the time. They’ve been doing it for years,” Lucy rolled her eyes. She slipped her thoroughly impractical high heeled sandals off. She shimmied out of the mini skirt she was wearing and pulled her tank top over her head. Underneath she was wearing a lace bra and panties. Victoria Secret’s Summer line.

“It’s dark and that rope doesn’t look very sturdy,” Jill continued to argue. She reached out; tip toeing and stretching to grasp the tail of the rope. She tugged on it and shook her head then quickly stepped back. “No way, Luce.”

“Chicken,” Lucy grinned. It was that smile that crinkled her nose, the one that Jill knew meant she was about to do something stupid. She jumped off the balls of her feet, caught the rope and wrapped her legs around it. There was a whoop as her weight swung the rope out then back in. She pushed off the tree with her feet hard enough that the apex of the swing came right about the middle of the river. Lucy screamed and let go with a laugh. There was a splash and in the wake of Lucy’s scream and laughter, it was silent. Jill supposed she should be used to that by now. Everything was quiet in the wake of Lucy.

The surface broke with another squealing laugh. “You have to jump in, Jill! The water is amazing.” Lucy’s smile was bright against the dark as she smoothed her hands back from her forehead, slicking her blond hair back.

“There could be rocks or water snakes or alligators,” Jill argued as she edged toward the bank of the river.

“All of which would assuredly eat a tasty Lucy treat as soon as she got in if there were such things. As I am completely uneaten, bitten or concussed, you can be assured there are none of those things,” Lucy teased. “Come in! It’s safe as shoes…or something like that.”

“Houses, Luce. Safe as houses,” Jill grinned as she slipped her Keds off and stuck her toes in the water. She sighed and slipped a little closer to the edge.

“Houses, shoes…whatever. I like shoes better,” Lucy said as she floated on her back, arms outstretched and eyes closed. “Though they really aren’t safe with me.”

“Nothing is safe with you,” Jill said as she slipped up to her calves in the water.

“Not so,” Lucy protested. She was pouting so that it had worked its way into her words. “Safe with me just has an entirely different connotation.”

You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up
You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up
You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up
You put the lime in the coconut and call the doctor, woke him up


Lucy leaned on the bar, her head in one hand. “So…it had to be tequila because the lime,” she slurred slightly as she toyed with the shot glasses lined up in front of her.

“Could have been Bacardi, goes better with coconut,” the guy sitting next to her said. He had his own row of shot glasses in front of him.

Lucy pondered that a moment. “Good point.” She fiddled with the glasses, stacking them on top of each other then giggling when they fell down. “M’not sure they write songs ‘bout Bacardi though.”

“Sure they do. Its rum,” the guy pointed out.

Lucy looked over at the guy and giggled again. “You’re pretty, can’t remember your name but you’re pretty.”

“Noah,” he smirked. “S’okay, we’ve had enough tequila that I’m not sure I can remember my name.”

“Think I’ll call you Joe,” Lucy decided. She looked down the bar at the girl cleaning glasses. “Hey! Bartender! Play that song again! With the coconuts and the rum.”

The girl shook her head laughing. She punched the number in the jukebox and the whimsical song filled the room. Lucy grabbed the guy’s hand and pulled him out to the dance floor, singing along very off key.

1. Rhett Butler
Obviously he's too old for me but this is the first man I remember swooning over. I used to watch the Rhett scenes over and over again on Gone With The Wind.

2. John Cusack
It's the whole jambox thing. Ever since then...

3. Harry Potter
Don't even ask me to explain it. I'm too old for him. He's just got the glasses and the scar and he can expecto patronum me anytime.

4. John Parker Wilson
Quarterback for Alabama Crimsontide. This needs no explanation

5. Michael Vaughn from Alias
It's the forehead wrinkles. They just kill me.

6. Jack Sparrow
Oh come on. He made eyeliner and dreadlocks hot. Don't tell me you don't want him too.

7. Ryan Atwood and Seth Cohen
They should count as one. Because they just should

8. Max Evans
He might be an alien but if they all look like that, beam me up Scotty

9. Dean Winchester
Seriously? I have to explain this one? No I don't.

10. Jess Mariano
He had that whole tortured bad boy wounded puppy thing going on. I could totally heal him.

Operation


“Mrs. Locke, we’d like to talk to Lucy alone,” the doctor said. He had Lucy’s chart folded conspiratorially against his chest and he looked at her mother as if she’d crawled out of a sewer.

“What? Why?” She looked from the doctor to Lucy and then back, her expression one of complete befuddlement.

“That’s confidential information between a doctor and a patient.”

“Lucy is fifteen. She’s hardly of age for that to apply,” Mrs. Locke said, firmly planting herself next to the exam table that Lucy sat on, a freshly casted arm cradled against her chest.

“Mom, it’s okay. I want coffee anyway. Would you go find me some? Hazelnut latte if they have any,” Lucy said.

Mrs. Locke gave Lucy a doubtful look then shot a dirty one at the doctor before stalking out.

“Whoa, you’ve really ticked her off,” Lucy commented once the door slammed behind her mother.

“Yes, well that is the least of my concerns right now,” the older man said as he crossed to the exam table and perched on the edge of it.

“Okay. Oh God, I’m going to lose my arm aren’t I? It’ll atrophy and eventually fall off. This is so not fair. I just got the most off the hook watch and it won’t work if I have to wear it on my right wrist. Also, my new cashmere sweater is going to look so lame with one arm just hanging there. You can do an operation though, right? Turn me into Bionic Woman or something,” Lucy rambled.

The doctor watched her as if she’d certainly and suddenly come down with some sort of exotic, highly contagious illness. “Er…no…I mean prosthetics have come a long way in recent years.” His brow furrowed and he straightened, taking on a sterner expression. “Miss Locke, that is not what I wish to discuss with you.”

He opened her file and dove into the discussion before Lucy could go off on another tangent. “In the last five years you’ve been in the emergency room a staggering number of times. This is your second broken arm this year. You’ve also broken a leg, an ankle, three toes and two fingers. You’ve had stitches in your knee and your hand. You’ve had two concussions and a gash on your forehead that required attention.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Wow…when you list it like that it sounds really impressive.”
The doctor looked up at her, eyebrows reaching for his hairline in surprise. He cleared his throat and returned to the all-business demeanor he’d adopted. “Miss Locke, anything and everything you say in this room is confidential. Is there anything happening at home you’d like to tell me about?”

Lucy was silent for a few seconds before she spoke, slow and haltingly at first before unleashing. “Well…sort of…I mean…I wasn’t going to tell anyone because it’s really pointless. It’s either going to happen or it’s not.”

“Miss Locke, this sort of situation is never pointless or hopeless,” the doctor began. “There is always something that can be done. No one should live in a situation like you are living in.”

At first Lucy’s expression was one of surprise but joy took over as a smile trickled across her face. “Seriously? So I should totally call him. I mean I know he’s Meredith’s boyfriend but she’s not very good to him and let’s face it, with the new hair cut she’s not even that attractive. Do you have any idea how few people can carry off Winona Ryder’s haircut? One and that’s Winona Ryder. I’d be a much better girlfriend to him and soooo much prettier. You are the bomb, Doc. Seriously. I break my arm and I get love advice. You rock. I’ll send a letter in to your superior. A recommendation that you get nominated coolest doctor ever…You know besides George Clooney.”

The doctor’s utter befuddlement and gasping of breath stopped Lucy’s ramble. “Oh God! Are you having a heart attack? Shit…don’t tell my mother I said that. I’ll go get someone.”

The doctor grabbed Lucy’s good arm, stopping her exit from the room. “Miss Locke, I am not having a heart attack. I am not inquiring to your love life. I am inquiring as to whether you are being abused in your home or not.”

for thetenspot

Ten Scars

1. My right knee. I was twelve. I’d just gotten new rollerblades and was trying them out on the sidewalk. The road kind of sloped downhill in front of Mrs. Hammersmith’s house. She had these big whiskey barrels of germaniums sitting out in her yard. I ran into one, gashed my knee open and got 24 stitches.

2. I was walking on top of the monkey bars the summer I turned fourteen. I fell off and broke my arm. I broke it so bad the bone actually came through the skin so I had stitches on top of a broken arm. The intern helping the doctor was really impressed. He was cute too.

3. Sixteen, I was cheerleading on the football field, goofing off, not paying attention and got run over by our defensive line. It broke my leg and sliced open my ankle on someone’s cleats. They were able to butterfly bandage the ankle but there’s a pretty good sized scar.

4. Seventeen, I was shaving in the tub and talking on the phone, not paying attention. I sliced my shin really, really good. No stitches but a nice scar.

5. Seventeen, I had the most awesome pair of Gucci wedges. Had being the operative word. I tripped, twisted my ankle and skinned the fire out of my left elbow. There’s still a nice sized white scar there and the shoes were hopelessly scuffed. I loved those shoes.

6. Eighteen, okay so I was drunk. Bad move on my part. Worse move, letting Ronnie Thompson talk me into going out into the backyard alone. He was an ass, I slapped him and attempted to go all Buffy on his ass. Now going all Buffy is something I don’t have the grace, agility or coordination to do while sober, I should NEVER attempt it drunk. I fell, hit the grill with my shoulder and gashed it open. 36 stitches later, Ronnie Thompson was groveling just so I didn’t talk about what happened. FYI, I didn’t talk at all. I wrote it in Sharpie all over the girl’s bathroom walls. Ass couldn’t get a date after that.

7. Eighteen, I was talking to Jill and watching the totally hot new guy we’d gotten in school that day. I slammed my locker door shut really hard…and the corner hit me in the head. Blood went everywhere. There was rumor floating around that I’d died. We got a plastic surgeon in for that one and he did a nice job with the six stitches. You can barely see the scar just above my left eyebrow.
8. Nineteen, Jill and I went out this barn party. Which is exactly what it sounds like. It was in the middle of nowhere outside Birmingham and they were keeping the barn door shut so they attracted less attention, like an entire cotton field of cars isn’t attention grabbing enough but whatever. They screamed at me to shut the door when we walked in. It was one of those big, huge sliding doors. It had this little point of metal underneath one of the boards near the edge where you pulled it back. I am proud to say I was the only one at the party that managed to cut themselves on it. I should have gotten stitches but that would have meant leaving the party before it ever got started. I wrapped it up with Bethany Linz’s at the time new Hermes scarf and numbed the pain with Tequila. I was fashionable and drunk. There’s now about a three inch scar on top of my right wrist.

9. Twenty, Jill and I had just moved to Berkeley. I was cooking and talking and being so excited about cooking our first meal in California. My thumb got in the way of the avocados. Dinner was ruined and four stitches later I have a smallish scar on my left thumb.

10. Twenty-one, so very recent. I slammed my car door shut, realized that my new Nicole Miller scarf was about to get shut in the door, attempted to rescue it and just ended up getting blood on it when my finger got smashed in the door. It was cut on the little latch thingy. Six stitches and I’ve got a scar on the fingerprint side of my right index finger. I broke my nail too. I had to have a fake one for weeks.

So...no one said the ficlet had to be about ME, just that it had to be about irony. When I think irony only one thing comes to mind...plus it gets a pop culture assignemnt out of the way

( The Adventures of The Ironist and Kid Chino )

Lucy Locke ~ Original Character ~ 603 words

ooc: Atomic County and the characters do not belong to me or Lucy. They belong to the creators of The OC. The Crimson Cheerleader is of course mine and Lucy's

So...no one said the ficlet had to be about ME. Just that it had to be about irony. When I think of the word irony I think of one thing...

( The Adventures of The Ironist and Kid Chino )

ooc:Atomic County, the Ironist, Kid Chino, Cosmogirl and Little Miss Vixen do not belong to me or Lucy. They belong to the OC and many other people who are not me.

Ten worst dates

1. January 26, 1983. Coach Paul ‘Bear’ Bryant died on this date. I wasn’t even born yet but the man is a legend in Alabama Football. His death was tragic. He was 69 and he’d just retired from coaching at Alabama 28 days prior. No he wasn’t ill. It was a heart attack. He won his last game, a bowl game against Illinois.

2. About two months ago I went out on this date with this surfer that Jill and I watch every morning. He was so very, very pretty. He apparently got in line for the pretty but when God was handing out brains and personailities, he was looking in the mirror. It was awful. Awful, awful, awful. We had nothing to talk about. He said dude every other sentence. I finally stood up in the middle of the restaurant and asked him if I looked like a dude. I still watch him surf in the morning because the pretty but when he asks me to go out again, I quickly divert the conversation to the waves. He’s easily distracted and he forgets all about asking me out.

3. The year 2000, yes the whole year. Alabama was put on probation for five years, yes five years so see I could claim that from 2000-2005 was the worst dates ever. I’m being overly fair here…anyway, an assistant coach claimed that Alabama paid a high school coach to encourage a player to sign with Alabama. It wasn’t fair and I don’t think it ever happened. The silent witness finally came out and it was Tennessee’s head coach, one of our biggest rivals. Fishy much? Yeah I think so.

4. October 1982 (again not born, still remains a horrible date) Tennessee broke Alabama’s 12 year winning streak against them and defeated them in their game against each other.

5. 1964. We lost the Orange bowl with the Bear coaching.

6. 1973 We lost the Sugar bowl with the Bear again

7. That date I went on with Tyler Martin in high school. Oh. My. God. He made Pretty Boy up there (no I don’t remember his name) look like best night ever. He was crass and rude and I had to pepper spray his ass because apparently he decided buying me dinner and a movie included back seat fun. Please, if I were that easy (and I’m not) it’d have to be a lot more expensive than McDonalds and a dollar movie.
8. One of my dad’s co-workers sons. It wasn’t his fault he was boring but he was! Conversationally, I don’t require a lot. I’m pretty good just talking to myself but reaction is nice. Talking about something besides the chess club is nice. I felt sorry for the guy but I feigned a headache and made him take me home early. And honestly, the headache wasn’t much of a feign. It just…didn’t keep me in for the rest of the night. I went to a party with Jill after Boring Dude dropped me off.

9. The first weekend at Berkeley. Jill and I got invited to a frat party. It was fun. It was great. I spent the biggest part of the night puking in the toilet in a frat house. Have you ever seen a toilet that multiple guys share? So gross. If I’d caught something and died I wouldn’t have been surprised. Not to mention the floor wasn’t much better and I was left lying there by my ‘date’. Frat boys suck. I’d like to say I never got that drunk again but I did. I just made someone take me home to puke. At least my floor there is shiny, clean, relatively disinfected and I won’t catch a fatal virus from the toilet.

10. The date with Bastard Boy. My freshman year of college. He took me to a rave. It was fun until he actually tried to roofie me! Like I was born yesterday. Whatever. Push a drink that hard on me when I’ve got my own safe drink that I went and watched the bartender pour and there’s something wrong with the drink being pushed. I told him I was going to the bathroom and left. I called the cops before I got home though and told them where the rave was. Bastard Boy was busted with roofies. He so deserved it.

Is romantic love something that is important to your muse? Why or why not?

Romantic love isn’t really important to Lucy. She has very little intention of getting married and having kids. It’s never really even occurred to her. Part of this is that she’s twenty-one. She’s half a country away from home for the first time and she loves the life she’s got right now. Part of it is just Lucy. She doesn’t plan for anything. She doesn’t have any ambition beyond tallying up the number of cute boys she gets attention from on any given day and looking cute while doing it. If she were approached with the idea of a relationship I don’t think she would rebuke it but she wouldn’t iniate the idea of one on her own. And again, it’s not because she has commitment phobia. The idea just never occurs to her.

While romantic love isn’t important to Lucy, romantic attention is. She can be very moody and very emo if a day goes by without a boy paying attention to her. It doesn’t have to be a request for a date or her number. A wolf whistle works just as well for Lucy. Compliment her, flirt with her and you’ve got a friend for life. Her mother worries that a charming axe murderer will kill her one day and it’s not an unfounded worry.

"So, tell me what you think of LA," Lucy said as she drew squiggles in the sand with her bare toe. She and Donovan were walking on the beach. It was close to sunset and over all a beautiful evening.

"I've never actually been there. We went to Disney World once when I was little but LA is one of the many places I've never been. I've seen it on tv and in the movies. Is it anything like that?"

1. The Little Princess
I think this probably on every little girl's list and if it isn't it should be. "I'm a princess. All girls are." They did a nice job on the movie too.

2. Gone With The Wind (movie)
It's so Southern Belle. Seriously, I think they show this to every southern girl as like a guide or something. Scarlett O' Hara was who I wanted to be when I grew up. I was her for Halloween several years in a row. Rhett Butler was my first crush. He still kinda is. He's like my first husband.

3. Resident Evil (the second one): I like the first one too but the second on is just so girl power, rawr, kick butt. If I'm having a bad day I put it in and I feel better having imagined that Alice totally rocked whoever made my day bad.

4. The Harry Potter Series (books) It introduced me to my future husband. Okay so that's just in Lucy land and Lucy land in no way resembles reality. Still, it's one of the few books I actually still read.

5. The Yaya Sisterhood (book): I liked the book better than the movie. I think you have to be southern to really get it. You have to have had nights that hot and that humid and you just have to be southern. Anyway, Jill and I have a secret sisterhood. Long before the book or movie. We used to do rituals for it and hold meetings, especially when she was living with her real/asshole parents. I really identify with the movies despite that fact that my mother was amazing, not a drunk and fantastic. Mint Julieps are a way of life in my house though. Mom drinks a lot of them.

6. Say Anything- I don't know why. There's just something about John Cusack with a boombox. My second husband.

7. Romeo and Juliet (movie): The one with Leo in it. Because I never want to be in love like that. Okay, in theory it sounds nice. The whole forsaking your family and running away and secrt marriage...whatever. They die though! D.I.E. As in dead. D.E.A.D. Forever. Like dust and bones and ewww. I want to be in love and live.

8.Cinderella: Because they live.

9. The Bible: Because I'm not the best person in the whole world but neither was Mary Magdalene and Jesus loved her. If you believe the Da Vinci Code he likes whoa really loved her but I don't think I believe it.

10. The OC s4 (yes I know it's a tv show) Because apparently Berkeley has guys like Ryan Atwood and Seth Cohen (oh come on you know his dorkiness is sexy) I just haven't met them yet.

Lucy surveyed the house, assuring herself that everything was ready for the party. The back french doors were open to the beach outside. There was a keg on the porch along with cups. The tiki bar she'd bought was set up on the porch also. She had on the new Betsey Johnson dress she'd bought just for the occasion but her feet were bare. She didn't see the point in putting on heels if she was going to be out in the sand.

She turned her ipod on, tuning it to the party playlist she'd made and wandered behind the bar to make herself a drink in a pink disposable martini glass.

"Jill! Everyone will be here soon!" she yelled at her room mate and best friend.

To: Donovan Masterson (xxx@xxx.com)
From: Lucy Locke (anotherblonde@gmail.com)

Subject: Shoes!

Okay the best I could was this. They looked like these in style but they were a pretty aqua color with little aquamarine colored rhinestone across the toe straps.

You are so awesome sauce I can't even tell you.

Much love!

Luce