RSS

Author Archives: Bekah Beth

Promises and Goals

Okay, here’s the deal.

I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I’ve been thinking recently about all the big things like careers and families and all those kinds of things and I have a list of things (many of them contradicting) that I want to achieve but none of them seem obtainable or manageable or in some cases even possible. I’ve been in a funk because I’ve spent all this time looking at 100%, and sitting at the 0% mark thinking–“I’ll never get there, what’s the point?”

But then I remembered something. I was thirteen-years-old and had just been assigned the first real research project I would ever have to do. It wasn’t just a “read a bit about the topic and write a page or two,”  It was at least a dozen credible sources, a long, well-written paper, visual aids, and a mostly memorized twenty-minute presentation to be given in front of my teachers and peers. Just the requirements for the assignment sat on three front and back pages. I was always a child prone to dramatics and exaggeration, so I sat at the dining room table with those three pages and saw my good grades, my dreams of college, my hopes of having a good life, all slipping away because I was overwhelmed by the project in front of me. It had been a good thirteen-year run, but I was sure this was going to beat me.

My mother turned to me with the appropriate level of exasperation for her oldest child who had just declared she was never getting into college because of an eight-grade-project and said “You’re right. It is a lot of work and it is going to take a lot of time. But you are absolutely never going to finish if you don’t start. Focus on what you can get done today.” I continued to insist that I would never be able to finish it because I was thirteen and a brat, and ended up being sent to my room for back talking–

I continued to insist that I would never be able to finish it because I was thirteen and a brat, and ended up being sent to my room for back talking–but I’ll be damned if I didn’t finish that project (got a B- to boot), still maintained my good grades, and graduated from a good University. And in spite of my recent funk, I am living a good life.

Whats the cliche? A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. If you look at your destination a thousand miles away, of course it is overwhelming. It’s really hard to get to 100 percent from zero. But it’s not so hard to get from zero percent to one. Then one to two. And so on. And so forth.

So here’s the promise.  Monday through Friday–hopefully at noon eastern, but I won’t make that a concrete promise just yet–I will have something here.  It might be a piece of fiction. It might be the part of me that is an overdramatic teenager still who will declare one bad date means that I will be single forever. It might be an update on how I’m still working to clean up this site and make it something I can be proud of and love.  I can almost guarantee that at one point it will be me complaining about how I complain too much.

I’m still not sure where my 100% is or where my thousand miles will take me. But I know I’ll never get there if I don’t start. Here’s to first steps.


Bekah Beth

Advertisements
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on October 16, 2017 in BekahBeth's Thoughts

 

Tags: , , ,

Legal Theft Project: Some RPG with a 6 on the end (521 words)

“So, after all that, You don’t care?” I was nearly at my wit’s end. Leigh had woken up this morning because she couldn’t buy this game online—sold out everywhere. I’d never heard of it before, but apparently, it was absolutely devastating that she wouldn’t have access on the first night—putting her forever at a disadvantage for the life cycle of this game.

We had driven to sixteen different shops, the furthest being three hours away.  We had at least two conversations with creepy men who stood too close to tell us where they had heard that it might still be in stock. Everything we had eaten today was from a fast-food restaurant and that was starting to disagree with me. And when we finally found it in a sketchy, entrance in an alley kind of store, we weren’t allowed to buy it with purchasing the “bundle” which contained all sorts of accessories and collectables that we didn’t want—but Leigh wanted it and we had dedicated so much time to it that I would be damned if we were going home empty-handed today.

But now that we were home, Leigh wanted to go out with her friends. She had put the game in the living room next to the TV but hadn’t even bothered to open up the box.  She picked at her fingernails a little and smiled up at me with a shrug. “Linda and Lizzie are going out. I want to go with them.  The game will still be there when I get home—won’t it?”

I put my head in my hands and let out an exaggerated sob.  Leigh laughed and put her hand on my shoulders. “There, there, Mommy. Think about it this way—we spent a whole day, working together towards a single mission, an unstoppable team of Mother and Daughter, and we achieved our prize.  Isn’t it more the journey than the destination that’s important?”

“Don’t you Modern Motivational Mother me, young lady,” I sighed, “Okay, fine. Go out with your friends. But while you’re gone I’m going to start your game. And you’re going to have to play with whatever settings I set up for you.”

“Okay, Mom.” Leigh was already heading to her room to get ready for her night out. “If you can figure out the Xbox and get the game started, I will accept that punishment.”

She had a point.  Damn that rational daughter of mine and my compete missing of the upswing of gaming culture.  Besides, going to bed early was sounding more and more lovely as the seconds pass. “Okay fine—Just let me know when you’re leaving, and be home by curfew.”

I don’t know what Leigh said in response to that, but I assumed it was some sort of agreement or acknowledgment as I turned to the calling of my bed.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on September 29, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Revamping

Hey there,

I know things have become a little haphazard around here.  For those four people who actually come and read here every day—I’m sorry. Life is doing that big changes thing, and I never respond well to changes. On top of that, I’m hitting that quarter-life crisis thing where I’m trying to figure out what I actually want to do with my life or where I am going or what I want to make out of the time that I have to live in this world.

This blog has fallen by the way side—pushed over for other life events and stories just posted for the sake of getting something up instead of the fact that I am proud of them. The days of genuinely enjoying the works that I put up, but instead most days just being glad I have SOMETHING to put up.

I don’t like that. I love to write. I want to get to sit down and write to be the bright spot of my day again. And a big part of that is going to be turning this site into something that I am proud of again. Because right now I am not.

So—as I’m sure anyone could see through my list of excuses—I’m taking a small break from updating stories on this site. I am going to dedicate solid time to making this site what I need it to be. I am going to spend some time writing and editing and getting pieces that I’m proud of on here. I am going to turn this into something that I will proudly call mine.

I will be back sometime after Labor Day with something amazing. I hope you all will meet me back here then for But So What Version 2.0. And I hope that it will be something amazing for us all.

Thank you for your patience,

Bekah-Beth

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 14, 2017 in BekahBeth's Thoughts

 

Tags: , ,

Fiction: Legal Theft Project–Retail Therapy (501 words)

“It’s not my fault—There was a sale.”  

Charles looked around the room at the dozen, maybe two dozen, bags that surrounded Georgia. “Oh my,” he muttered softly, carefully picking his way over to his arm chair, sitting down carefully. “Oh, Georgia, what did you do?”  

“I only went in for one thing,” She insisted, making a faster path around the bags than he had, coming to sit on his lap, “But it was a sale. A summer sale. The biggest sale the store had ever had. What was I supposed to do, say no?”  

Charles knew there was no point in trying to explain to Georgia that he would have expected her to say no. She’d never been the type of person to pass up something shiny and new, nor the type of person to pass up a bargain—so put the two together and she would have been utterly helpless. He’d known all this about her when he’d agreed to marry her, and he guessed he had to pay the piper at some point. Or—he supposed—pay the credit card bill to be more specific.  

“How much did you spend?” He asked warily, reaching up to wrap one of her curls around his finger. No point in delaying it. Might as well find out the damage now.  

Georgia at least had the decency to look a little ashamed as she said it. “Four hundred thirty-six dollars and ninety-one cents.” Charles flinched at the number, so Georgia rushed to add, “But I saved six hundred and seventeen dollars. That’s one thousand and fifty-three dollars worth of stuff all for less than five hundred.  It’s a deal.” Georgia said it with such hope. All she wanted was confirmation that she hadn’t messed up too badly, that Charles still loved her in spite of this, that he wasn’t mad.  

Charles sighed again, trying not to think about how many times he would sigh before this was all said and done. He did still love her, of course, he still loved her, and in the grand scheme of things, he couldn’t even be mad.  This was what she did. And if he loved her he had to love her for the full package, not just the parts he liked best.  

“It is a deal,” he conceded, and before he could stop himself he added, “I probably wouldn’t have gotten all this stuff—but you cannot deny that it was a deal.” Georgia frowned up at him adorably, so he wrapped his arms a little tighter around him. “Oh don’t. It’s okay. I know you can’t pass up a good sale. It will all work out in the end.”  

“I just—It was a sale.”  

“I know, babe, I know.” Charles dropped a kiss on her forehead. “And you just can’t pass up a good sale.”  

She curled in a little tighter, and he pulled her in to snuggle closer. “I absolutely cannot pass up a good sale.”  

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 2, 2017 in Legal Theft Project, Stories

 

Tags: , , ,

Fiction: Legal Theft Project– Caring for her Father (518 words)

She almost didn’t answer the call. Jean knew the number by now, even though she had never saved it into her phone. She looked down at the number and for a moment, just a moment, thought that she just didn’t want to know. She didn’t want that added stress in this moment. She could wait, and find out what was wrong later.  

But just as fast as the thought came into her mind, it vanished.  She swiped the green button and pulled it up to her ear. “What’s the news now?”  

“Not good, Miss Strune,” Her Dad’s nurse replied, calling from the phone in his hospital room. Jean was always impressed how she managed to sounds just cheery enough to be reassuring, but professional enough to not give bad news in an annoyingly perky way like some of their previous nurses had been. Jean liked this nurse an awful lot. Maybe that was the reason that she really had answered the phone. “We’re having some pretty serious memory problems today. I’m sure that Mr. Strune would absolutely love a visit from you today to help him fill in some of the blanks if you have any time.”  

“Right,” Jean said slowly, “Well, tell him that I love him and that I’ll try to be by this afternoon.  Remind him that he really hated the place that Mom was staying before—that might help placate him for a little while until I can show up and be a bit more helpful.”  

“Thanks a lot, Miss Strune.  Sorry that I could have better news for you this morning.”  

“That’s alright, Jasmine. I know it’s not your fault.  I’ll see you this afternoon.” Jean waited for the click that meant she’d hung up. She never hung up first just in case there was something else that the nurse needed to tell her before the conversation ended.  Luckily, there was no more today.  

Jean chuckled to herself darkly. Luckily all she had to deal with today was the continuing degrading of her father’s mental state, to the point where he was slowly forgetting the years of his life further and further back.  

Jean looked at the work laid about before her. She had such lofty plans for what she could get done with her free time today. She should have known better than to try to have an all work day. It was like her dad could sense when she had a lot to do and saved his most spectacular breakdowns for those days.  

Jean took a deep breath and tried to bring her temper back down. She could be mad that all this shit was happening to her dad, no one would blame her for that. But getting mad at him, especially for things that weren’t actually his fault—that wasn’t going to help anyone at all.  

She was going to take a deep breath, spend some time properly enjoying her breakfast and keeping her mind in check, and then she would head over to the nursing home and try to figure out which ways she could help her dad today.  

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 1, 2017 in Legal Theft Project, Stories

 

Tags: , , ,

Fiction: Not Really Wrong (532 words)

“We’re going to get caught, aren’t we?” Nilo whispered to her, staring up at the sky.  He felt more than saw Saryn turn and stare at him with all her usual attitude.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it can’t be this good for long, right? Someone is going to catch us, or one of us is going to do something to severely piss the other off or some other grand hell is about to descend on our heads because we’re trying to get away with this?” Nilo continued to speak up to the empty air rather than turning to face Saryn.

“Really? Is that what you think is going to happen?” Saryn asked, reaching across Nilo and forcing him to turn and look her in the face. “Are you that worried?”

“Well, two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead.  And, to be honest, I would rather our secret come out than one of us dying. As a general rule.” Nilo answered, turning into the roll so that she and Saryn were nose to nose.

“Well, yes, I’d like that too—as a general rule—but I don’t think it has to come to that. We are very careful. No one is going to find out unless we want them to. And that will be long enough after my husband’s funeral that people will actually believe us when we say that we didn’t start this until after he was gone.”

“Do we really care if people believe us, though?” Nilo countered, “If we just tell them outright that we are together, people can whisper all they want, we know the truth, we know we haven’t done anything wrong. Isn’t that good enough?”

Saryn smiled at him, which he felt more than saw. “I wish it was enough. I do. But, I don’t want people to even talk amongst themselves about Darel being cheated on or cuckolded or anything like that. That would be disrespectful to his memory, and to the memory of him in a lot of people’s minds.”

Nilo sighed and rolled flat on his back. He knew that Saryn still loved Darel even though he was gone. He knew that she would love him for as long as she was still alive. Hell, Nilo still loved Darel, he had been a good friend before he’d gotten sick. But a small part of him—the part that was deciding to rear its ugly head today—was extremely jealous that he’d always have to share Saryn’s heart with him.

“I’m sorry, I know,” Saryn propped herself up on an arm so she could look down into Nilo’s face. “This whole situation is a mess, and I’m not making it any easier or cleaner.  But—I don’t think there is a clean or easy way to do it. I just have to follow my gut.”

Nilo smiled again in spite of himself. She did love him. He knew that. It wasn’t fair to take out any frustration on her for things that neither of them could change. “No need to be sorry.  We’ll figure this out.”

“Yeah,” Saryn rested her head on Nilo’s chest, “We’ll figure this out.”

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on July 19, 2017 in Stories

 

Tags: , , ,

Fiction: Losses (530 words)

Edith sat on the edge of her bed. She was waiting for something that was never going to happen. There was no one coming home to her. Her father was gone. Her husband was gone. Her son was gone. Literally, everything that this war could take from her short of her own life–it had. She sat alone at the edge of her bed, watching her door as if one of them might come walking in any way.  And with each second that passed with no one there, her heart grew a little heavier.

She allowed herself exactly ten minutes that morning to sit there in blind grief, silent and afraid. Then she had to stand up and face the world again. She’d been sitting in silence and fear without noticing time passing since she was first brought her the news. She’d stay here forever if she didn’t press forward today. Those soldiers, her men, didn’t go off to fight for her to fall apart. They didn’t go out and die so that she could spend the rest of her time moping and wishing that they hadn’t gone to fight for her country and everything they believed was right and good.  She pulled herself to her feet, tied up her hair, and headed out into the living room.

Her neighbors looked up in surprise at her reappearing. “Edie, are you okay?” Her friend Marie asked, before wincing, “I mean, of course, you aren’t okay, but I mean–” Marie shook her head again and tried to offer Edith a sad smile. “What I’m trying to say is that we understand if you just want to have a quiet day today.”

“I don’t think that sitting alone in my room dwelling on my sadness is going to be much help to anyone,” Edith answered with a perk in her voice—it sounded terrible even to her own ears, but she wasn’t sure what else she might sound like if she tried. “Please, Marie, give me something to do. Don’t make sit in there alone.”  This desperate tone was no better at all—she almost preferred the overly cheery tone.  But it seemed to be exactly what Marie needed to hear from her.

“Of course, of course. Do you want to work on something small or something big today?” Marie asked gesturing to the other women in the room.

“Big, I think,” Edith answered quickly, so she wouldn’t have time to analyze the tone that her voice was taking now.

“Okay then. Talk to Eleanor,” Marie gestured to the oldest woman in the room, sitting near the fireplace, “She’ll give you something big, and keep you as busy as you want to be.” She reached out and took Edith’s hand, pulling her in closer so that Marie’s next words could only be heard by Edith. “But as soon as you need an out, go. No one here will fault you for leaving work undone for a while, okay? Don’t feel pressured to get it done.”

Edith nodded slightly at Marie. “Thank you. But—I need this.”

Marie nodded as well, and let go of Edith’s hand. “Go see Eleanor, She’ll get you set up.”

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on July 18, 2017 in Stories

 

Tags: , , , ,