Fester, Fester, Fester. Rot. Rot. Rot.

Daily Prompt: Silver Screen
Take a quote from your favorite movie — there’s the title of your post. Now, write!


Tony held tightly to his grudge for 15-years and counting. He could not let it go.  Some things that Ralph did annoyed him, but nothing caused any bitterness and ill-will toward Ralph, until he stabbed Tony in the back.

He would almost understand if Ralph’s betrayal was over money, or a woman. But not an old musty book. He and Ralph were browsing at the county flea-market, when Tony discovered what he believed to be a family heirloom. A diary, dated in 1892, when the author was 16-years old. He couldn’t wait to get home and compare the handwriting to an old scrap-book he inherited.

Tony was 99% sure that 16-year old Cassie, was his great-great-grandmother, Cassandra.

Ralph was uncharacteristically bitchy about Tony’s insisting they leave, grumbling all the way to the parking lot.

“This thing can wait another hour or so, can’t it?”

“I feel like I need to get this diary home, now,” Tony explained. “Aren’t you even a bit curious?”

“No. Just drop me off at my place, OK?”

“Well – OK”.  Tony was hurt that his friend did not want to be part of his discovery, but he said nothing when Ralph hopped out of the car and said, “See ya later!”

Tony dug out the old family Bible, scrapbooks and photo albums and piled them on his dining room table. His hunch was right! Great-great-grandmother Cassandra, and the 16-year old Cassie that wrote the diary, were the same girl. He was so excited, he stayed up all night reading her diary. It was a fascinating and entertaining book. He also learned a lot about his other family members as he read.

When he woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the kitchen window, on his head. It took him a minute to figure out why he was sleeping at the dining-room table, and not in his bed.  Cassie’s diary was nowhere to be found among the pile of books on the table. He knew he fell asleep with the diary in his hands. What the Hell could have happened to it?

Two days later, Tony was having a beer at Ralph’s, when he noticed the spine of a book burned up in the fireplace. He took a closer look. It was Cassie’s diary!

“What have you done?” Tony demanded, pointing at the fire-place. Ralph shrugged.  “I got a real bad feeling about that book you found,” Ralph told him. “It felt haunted.”

“Then you should have talked to me about it! Not go behind my back and destroy it!”  he yelled.  That was the last time he spoke to Ralph, 15-years ago.

As if his grandmother was standing close, whispering to him, Tony heard “Fester, Fester, Fester. Rot.  Rot.  Rot.”  He tried to remember the section in the diary where she wrote those very words. Oh yes – it was when she wrote about her brother, Ethan, who hated their cousin Lloyd for reasons she did not know. She worried about Ethan because she saw what his bitterness toward Lloyd was doing to him.

“Ethan’s soul is being devoured by his hatred,” she wrote. “His bitterness is spreading into all aspects of his personality, turning him into an old man before his time.”

Later (only a few pages in the dairy), she wrote about confronting Ethan and telling him he was “festering and rotting” his life away. She teasingly punched his arm, and mimicking his gruff voice, said,” Fester, Fester, Fester.  Rot.  Rot.  Rot.”  Ethan and she laughed together for a long while. Then he told Cassie he would try to let go of his festering grudge, making her happy and hopeful that she would “have her normal brother back”.  She drew two red hearts, ending the day’s entry in her diary.

Tony shivered as goosebumps crawled up his arms. His great-great grandma was trying to tell him he behaved like Ethan. Was he going to make his whole life rotten over what Ralph did to her diary?  Or was he going to let it go back into the past where it belonged?

He was certain he knew what his great-great-grandma wanted him to do.



The quote, said by Meg Ryan’s character “Kate”, was in the film French Kiss. If you haven’t seen this film – you should  😉

Poster Image courtesy of IBMD
Poster Image courtesy of IMBd

Diary of a Nicotine Addict: Dancing

May 20th marked one year without a cigarette.  Whoopee.

I wanted to celebrate by having a couple – so my battle is not even close to being won.  Maybe battling with the Bitch is a mistake. She has proven to be the strongest and meanest one of us, many times over.

I came across this quote last week while preparing my sister’s eulogy:

Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.  – Psalms 30:11.

I have dealt with my addiction (a.k.a. The Bitch) all wrong.

I translated the verse (into jodi-speak) in my head: Thou hast turned for me my mourning (stopped dwelling on the NOT having), into dancing (expressing and celebrating life): thou hast put off my sackcloth (kicked me off the pity pot), and girded me with gladness (surrounded me with gratitude).

Girl Wearing Boxing Glove
photo credit: kk+ via photo pin cc

I need to DANCE with the Bitch, not fight her.
Train for strength, watch the enemy, and protect myself. The Mohammad Ali kind of dancing.

Diary of a Nicotine Addict: Month 11

I could tell you that my life is one big happy party because I quit smoking eleven months ago. But why start lying to you now? That would be like using a pencil to write diary entries so I could change things to be how I wanted. And wouldn’t that be cool? But I digress…


The Bitch has been restless. (In case you missed earlier posts, “The Bitch” is my term for addiction.)  Being totally aware of my approaching 1-year anniversary, Ms. Bitch has been throwing opportunities at me to buy, borrow, or steal a cigarette. She is very good at this. And because her wicked ways have worked so many times on me, she is relentless. She’s hanging around patiently waiting for stress and weakness to bring me down.

Not to worry – I have beefed up security and will issue a “high-alert” warning to my reinforcements.

No, I am not trying to be flippant or funny (this time). I really do have reinforcements. One friend supplied me with enough sugar-free candy the day I quit to last a long time. I still have some in my office.  My BFF sent me a care package of assorted sugar-free lollipops, so I can do the “Kojak thing” when I need to. (If you don’t know what the Kojak thing is, you may be too young to be reading blogs on the Internet. Especially ones written by insane addicts. Just sayin’)

Fellow bloggers & readers cheer me on. The “Diary of an Addict” blog series has the most read posts this year at Not Pretending (to be sane). I hope that these posts sometimes help others keep their Bitches at bay. It helps me to write about it and be accountable for my behavior. I finally learned I couldn’t fight The Bitch alone.

I have a wonderful family scattered all over this United States praying for me to kick The F*^&$@! Bitch’s ass. Maybe not in those exact words…   I admit asking God to send my Guardian Angel down to kick The F*^&$@! Bitch’s ass for me. In those exact words, BTW.)

God is pretty used to me by now, so no sense pretending   😉