Pandora’s Box

Tags

AMHudlow, Barbie, Beauty, body, body image, happiness, ideal, life, love, MAC, MAC Cosmetics, model, New York, night, NYC, Pandora, Pandora's box, Partying, plastic, plastic surgery, plastics, poem, poetry, self, self esteem, slut, whore

Wearing only Chanel and underwear,

She offers Pandora’s Box,

Hoping that the night will lead her to love.

 

Hands grabbing at unrealistic expectations of love,

Teetering on the thin line between whore and desirable,

Between being a lover and being loved.

 

Stumbling home on broken heels,

Passing the old cathedral,

Life never is what you expect .

DWM-Day

Tags

ABC, ABC Network, ABC's Dancing With The Stars, AMHudlow, dancing, Dancing with the stars, DWTS, entertainment, Hard Work, Intern, Internship, Job Well Done, Kirstie Ally, life, Maksim, Maksim Chmerkovskiy, New York, New York City, night, non fiction, non-fiction, NYC, party, Partying, reality, reality TV, Televison, TV, work, writing

As all of the paparazzi and news stories hit, the Pulse Creative team takes a deep breath, gives some high-fives, pats on the back and some of us needed a full day of the boss’s personal recuperation medicine (aka a day at the spa).

It was an amazing event due to the grand visions of the Chmerkovskiy and Volynets families, who were great to work with as always. But behind the scenes our little team of idiot savants wind down and give me the inside scoop to how intense and challenging the project was. Here are some of the perspectives from the Pulse team:

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Tags

AMHudlow, cutting, death, depression, fear, fiction, love, night, prayer, sadness, stories, story, suicide, texting, worry

“Come on! Move faster!” Rhett yelled at the car in front of him. Of all times for him to be

stuck in traffic, this was the worst. He needed to get to Anna. He combed his fingers through his curly dark brown hair and slammed his palm onto the steering wheel causing the horn to blare at the old woman’s Caddy. “Move!” But alas, the car in front of him crawled on the asphalt. He glanced at the clock on the dash, 12:13 am. He looked up to the moon through the windshield and prayed. Prayed that he wasn’t too late.

 

Not Alone

Tags

AMHudlow, break in, breaking and entering, bump in the night, fear, fiction, night, stories, story, writing

I do not own this picture

Julie was sleeping in bed, her arms wrapped around a teddy bear that her boyfriend had given her. Most nineteen-year-olds didn’t sleep with toys but the bear made her feel safe at night. Especially on nights like this. Both of her parents were out of town on business and Julie was home alone. She hated being alone. Hated it with a passion. Every noise she heard or thought she heard was immediately processed in her brain as an intruder.  The idea of someone breaking into her home scared her more than words could ever express. But tucked into her warm bed, Julie was safe from the evils of the world.

Her eyes snapped open. What was that? Wide-awake, she listened to the world around her. After a few moments that felt like hours Julie relaxed again. It was just her overactive imagination playing cruel games on her. As her eyes closed for the second time she heard the noise again. This wasn’t imaginary. She heard something moving around in her house. Slowly panic started to build up in her chest making it hard to breathe. She held her teddy close and tried to focus on the situation at hand and stave off the impending panic attack. If someone was actually in her house she needed to keep her head on straight and that would have been a lot easier if she had remembered to take her anxiety medication that morning.

With her eyes locked onto the door, Julie leaned over and reached for her cell phone that was charging on the bedside table. Clutching the phone to her chest she gazed at it to check the time. The blinding screen read 1:15. Her parents said they would be coming home that next morning but if they were going to arrive early they would have called or at least texted her.