"Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't. Stop. Breathing." I closed my eyes to concentrate harder on the words as I whispered them. Another anxiety attack at work. Another moment that I let my thoughts and hurt feelings get the best of me. Another strike from a bolt of reality bringing me to the painful realization that I'm not wanted. It comes in the weirdest forms; a song, a smell, a word, a picture, the sun, a tree, a dog, the breeze, the freaking sound of time passing. Everything in, on, or around my environment retains a strong probability of triggering emotional pain. All of it a direct result of being lied to for two years and one devastating phone call. A phone call.
In our fast paced world of texting, social networking, poking, prodding, liking, and following, it is incredibly easy for people to hide behind a mask of technology. It allows for a comfortable amount of disconnect from facing situations that may cause uneasiness. Why deal with having a real conversation, a face to face discussion, to completely wreck someone's confidence, life, dreams, and feeling of self worth when you can do it over the phone and then hang up on them when it gets too uncomfortable? That way, you don't have to explain yourself, you never have to give direct answers, and you don't have to see the pain that you are causing. With your shield of technology you don't have to answer the phone when they call, return texts, or emails, or utilize whatever other mode of contact one might use to get through to someone. Technology gives you an out to be one and done. Oh I'm sorry, those of you who hide behind your phone, your cowardice is showing.
I wish I could put into words the slew of emotions that I have been through since I got that self-serving phone call. Essentially I got exposure to all five stages of grief on a daily basis. Multiple times a day. Strangest emotional experience of my life. One that I never desire to have ever again nor would I wish it upon any mortal enemy. Then, out of nowhere, after all of that pain, all of the tears, all of the processing, writing, and meditating, I finally had a strangely foreign feeling of peace. Freedom. Pure happiness.
What? Happiness? I thought I was happy for the last two years! Where is this coming from? It hit me. Like Miley Cyrus on a wrecking ball, it hit me. I was miserable the last two years. I was so in love with the thought of being in love that I forced myself to think I was happy. What the hell was wrong with me? I spent the last two years putting up with being pushed to the side, neglected, ignored, lied to, put down, brought down, and disrespected all because I thought that some other person was right for me. I spent two years buying into the pretend feelings someone claimed to have; catering to someone who cared more about themselves and how they were feeling or how they might be affected without ever giving my feelings a passing glance. Why did I do this? Well, truth be told, I'm a giver. To a fault, obviously. I like helping people. Making people happy makes me happy. There's a reason that I work in the field I do and it is because I get the most amazing feeling when I know that I have positively affected someone else's life. That is why I wasted two years of my life, because I was working to make someone else happy. At the expense of myself. I see that now. I learned a rough lesson from it. I'm better from it.
Today, I had a moment of weakness. I let their words get to me again. I let them bring me down again. I let them poke a hole in my freshly mended but still vulnerable feeling of self worth. Again. I fought back tears on the way home and as I moved robotically through my after work routine. Then, as I laced up my shoes to begin my evening run, I sat up and stared at the wall. Out of nowhere that strange easy feeling drifted over me and I looked around to see my world for how perfect it was now. I no longer have to deal with feeling like I am not worth someone's time. I don't have to listen to someone pick apart my every flaw and bring up my past mistakes daily. I don't have to listen to someone call me everyday, after I've had a long 8 hours of work, and expect support from me for their problems at work, with their friends they thought were annoying, or their overbearing family members only to have that person scoff in annoyance and end the conversation when I needed to talk out my stressors in life. I no longer had to sit around and waste my time wondering what I did wrong or what I could do to make it all better for them. I have no reason to spend my days caring for someone who couldn't care less for me when I have already wasted 730 days of my life doing just that.
With one fell swoop, one phone call, I lost my world, my entire future, my love; I lost a whole 200 pounds of extra person from myself. A whole person was just completely gone from my life as a result of one horrible call. Though I did not see it at the time, I can see it clearly now, with that same phone call I found my sweet freedom.
My feet hit the pavement and a light spring breeze hit my face as I took to the sidewalk. Steps that had once been a struggle to complete now came to me with ease. I smiled as the cool air surrounded me and encouraged me to keep moving forward. I didn't have to remind myself to keep breathing; I just did.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
The Home She Once Loved
The gentle tapping of the water droplets echoed around her, bouncing off of the now glistening ink black pavement. The cool rain seeped down her face and onto her dress sending a chill through her bones; a shudder that seemed out of place on such a stuffy summer evening. She welcomed the brief reprieve from this unseasonably hot July. Realizing that she had been standing still for far too long she finally looked around blinking the rain from her eyes,thankful that it hid her tears. It had been a long time since she had really been in this place and the memories flooded back to her so quickly that it was painful. Walking slowly along the street, she approached the home that she had once loved so much. It stood quietly inside a cove of trees which, at their fullest, blocked the small one-story cabin from view.
The dim light from inside the house shone through the semi-sheer curtains that hung in the windows. She smiled. She had looked through a dozen different stores until she finally found those curtains. They fit the room so perfectly that Will uncharacteristically agreed that they were worth the price tag. It was either that or he had grown so tired of shopping for curtains that he just gave in to the purchase. Whatever the reason, they still hung in the windows and they still looked perfect.
As she moved further up the drive she heard laughter coming from the back and smelled the undeniable scent of a dying bonfire. The bonfire pit had been the first project for the cabin. She and Will had wanted a place where they could sit and enjoy the world around them, either with all their friends or just themselves. So, they built a large covered porch onto the back of the house with a stone fire pit that could double as a grill. Grilling outside was one of Will's favorite things to do. She laughed to herself as she remembered all the nights that they had spent around the fire drinking beer and making burgers. Those nights were the definition of happiness. She missed them. She shook the thoughts away and walked toward the laughter.
Everything around her looked just as it had the day that she left, with the exception of the bright red sport car that was parked neatly next to a nearly identical black one. It was ironic that he had found someone who had a car so similar to the one that he loved so much. Almost like it was fate. A fate that wouldn't have happened if she had just stayed; if she hadn't been so afraid of forever that she left the only person who had made her world make sense. Somehow she had convinced herself that they weren't right for each other, that he didn't love her, that they wouldn't work out in the end, and so she left. It was the biggest mistake that she had ever made. Well, not the biggest mistake. There was one much bigger. She furrowed her brow, she couldn't take that one back now no matter how badly she wanted to.
The rain had turned into a light drizzle now, dripping over the leaves of the trees quietly, peacefully. It was a relaxing sound that mixed with the other soft noises of nature around her. She stopped for a moment and breathed in deeply. A breath so deep that it should have mended the ache in her chest. It was the type of ache that made you feel as though you could never catch a full breath again; like something was pushing onto your chest so firmly that one would feel trapped within themselves. She looked down at her bare feet covered in wet grass, she was sure that hadn't been able to catch her breath for years now. Laughter broke her drifting thoughts and she resumed her silent walk through the trees to the back of the house.
What would he think if he knew that she was here. What would SHE think if she knew that his ex was here, standing only yards away from the house that they had once planned to spend their lives in. She wondered if Will had even mentioned her to his new flame with the little red sports car. Pausing not far from the two people who were the source of the laughter she eased herself between two trees so that she could see him clearly. Her Will. Her love. Her life. She wanted to run to him. To hold him so tightly that the past changed itself, as if it had never had happened.
She lunged forward at the thought of being near him again but stopped herself abruptly mid-step. The sudden movement had caught his eye and he looked toward the tree that she hoped hid her from view. Holding her breath she waited. Had he seen her? Will stared intently into the darkness, sure that he had seen a figure standing there between the trees. As if he stared hard enough the figure might reappear.
"Will. Will. William!" The shrill voice of the woman sitting next to him broke his concentration and he looked away from the darkened spot in the distance.
"Huh? What?"
"Will, what is wrong? What are you looking at?"
"I saw...at least I thought I saw...you know what, it was nothing." He looked back into the darkness and shook his head, "It was nothing."
"Are you sure it was nothing? Will, you are shaking. Should we call the police or something?"
Will put his head in his hand and sighed. "No. I'm sorry, I was just startled. I thought I saw something move over there and it caught me off guard. It's nothing to worry about."
The dark shadows from the trees had done their job and hid her from his view. She eased out from behind them again, slowly this time so as not to alert him. She could watch him more easily this way, an unobstructed view into the life that she should have had. The moments passed slowly as she watched the woman sitting next to him stroke his hair and squeeze his hand. Her stomach jumped from heartache. He looked so happy sitting there with her, his wife. Suddenly, he looked up into the darkness. He stood up quickly from his seat letting his beer fall from his hand and shatter onto the dark treated wood beneath his feet. He had seen her through the trees. For sure this time. Her heart sank as she stole one last look at him and turned on her heels to run deep into the darkness behind her.
Will stood still, feet frozen to the ground, breathing quickly in panic. He had seen her standing there. He was sure of it this time. There was no mistaking the tall, slim figure with long hair pasted to the frame of her face from the rain. It was her. He jumped when his wife grabbed his arm, "William, what on earth? What is wrong with you?"
"I saw her. There, between the trees. Just standing. I saw her." His eyes never left the spot as he spoke.
"What? Who? I am calling the police. This is insane."
"Stop." He turned toward her and grabbed the phone from her hand. "Don't. Stop. She isn't there anymore."
"Who the hell are you talking about?"
"Lina."
"Your ex? Oh I am definitely calling the cops now. That is fucking nuts, Will! Are you kidding me? Your ex is standing in our yard watching us from the trees!"
Will held the phone firmly in his hand as he looked back toward the darkness. "No, you don't understand. She's gone now. There's no point."
The short blonde woman stared at him in disbelief. "Is this a joke? What would she be doing here? What if she comes back? Why the hell would she not come knock on the door rather than hide in the trees to watch us?"
He turned back to his wife. Face blank from the shock of being startled. "You don't understand. You won't need to worry about her." The small woman appeared even smaller as she looked up at him, worried. "She is gone. She won't come back. I am sure of it."
"How do you know?" She asked, her voice starting to quiver.
"Because," His face grew somber and the color faded from it once more, "she is dead, Emily."
"Huh?" Emily stepped back from him. "No she isn't. She was just standing there. You saw her. Besides, I would have known. You would have told me something like that."
"Emily, Lina killed herself on the day that you and I were married."
Emily fell back into her chair. Shaking she tried to regain her composure. "This is ridiculous, Will. Stop it right now."
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want it to freak you out." Will sat next to her and held her hand gently to try to calm her. "Emily, when we left that night after the reception we went straight to the airport for our trip to Hawaii. I had a few of the guys take all of the gifts and extra things back to the house because I knew it would be a week before we were back. I didn't want our parents to worry about moving it all back and forth. When they got here there was a dwindling fire in the fire pit and empty beer bottles strewn around the porch. It was raining. They knew someone had been here so they checked around to see if they could find anything else." He stopped talking and pulled his hand away. He stood up warily and took a few steps toward the spot in the trees that he had stared at so intently just a few moments ago.
"Emily." His voice trailed off. "Emily, Lina and I were supposed to get married. She left before the wedding day. I saw her a few times here and there after that and she seemed fine. She always told me, on those times we met, that I was the one for her. She never asked me to take her back though. She said that she could see I was happy and didn't want to take that away from me."
He turned to Emily sitting in the chair, her face pale from shock. "They found her in her wedding dress," a tear ran silently down his face, "hanging from that tree." He pointed back to shadowed place in the wooded cove. "They took care of calling the police. Everything was sorted out before we got home. I made them swear to never tell you. I am sorry. I know that I should have said something."
Emily looked from her husband to the tree and back again, stood warily, then raced into the house. He remained for a moment squinting into the black of the night. "I'm sorry Lina," he whispered before going into the house to try to calm his wife.
Standing in the darkness, alone, out of breath, and weary from running, Lina watched through tear filled eyes as Will walked away. She has been running through this darkness for years now. There is no way out. She had hoped that she would be happier here in the place that she loved. She thought that maybe she could stay here in the moments that she cherished and relive them for an eternity. Instead, she found herself trapped in these trees, destined to watch the love that she should have had thrive in someone else's heart. "I am sorry too," she whispered back before resuming her endless walk through the trees surrounding the home that she once loved.
The dim light from inside the house shone through the semi-sheer curtains that hung in the windows. She smiled. She had looked through a dozen different stores until she finally found those curtains. They fit the room so perfectly that Will uncharacteristically agreed that they were worth the price tag. It was either that or he had grown so tired of shopping for curtains that he just gave in to the purchase. Whatever the reason, they still hung in the windows and they still looked perfect.
As she moved further up the drive she heard laughter coming from the back and smelled the undeniable scent of a dying bonfire. The bonfire pit had been the first project for the cabin. She and Will had wanted a place where they could sit and enjoy the world around them, either with all their friends or just themselves. So, they built a large covered porch onto the back of the house with a stone fire pit that could double as a grill. Grilling outside was one of Will's favorite things to do. She laughed to herself as she remembered all the nights that they had spent around the fire drinking beer and making burgers. Those nights were the definition of happiness. She missed them. She shook the thoughts away and walked toward the laughter.
Everything around her looked just as it had the day that she left, with the exception of the bright red sport car that was parked neatly next to a nearly identical black one. It was ironic that he had found someone who had a car so similar to the one that he loved so much. Almost like it was fate. A fate that wouldn't have happened if she had just stayed; if she hadn't been so afraid of forever that she left the only person who had made her world make sense. Somehow she had convinced herself that they weren't right for each other, that he didn't love her, that they wouldn't work out in the end, and so she left. It was the biggest mistake that she had ever made. Well, not the biggest mistake. There was one much bigger. She furrowed her brow, she couldn't take that one back now no matter how badly she wanted to.
The rain had turned into a light drizzle now, dripping over the leaves of the trees quietly, peacefully. It was a relaxing sound that mixed with the other soft noises of nature around her. She stopped for a moment and breathed in deeply. A breath so deep that it should have mended the ache in her chest. It was the type of ache that made you feel as though you could never catch a full breath again; like something was pushing onto your chest so firmly that one would feel trapped within themselves. She looked down at her bare feet covered in wet grass, she was sure that hadn't been able to catch her breath for years now. Laughter broke her drifting thoughts and she resumed her silent walk through the trees to the back of the house.
What would he think if he knew that she was here. What would SHE think if she knew that his ex was here, standing only yards away from the house that they had once planned to spend their lives in. She wondered if Will had even mentioned her to his new flame with the little red sports car. Pausing not far from the two people who were the source of the laughter she eased herself between two trees so that she could see him clearly. Her Will. Her love. Her life. She wanted to run to him. To hold him so tightly that the past changed itself, as if it had never had happened.
She lunged forward at the thought of being near him again but stopped herself abruptly mid-step. The sudden movement had caught his eye and he looked toward the tree that she hoped hid her from view. Holding her breath she waited. Had he seen her? Will stared intently into the darkness, sure that he had seen a figure standing there between the trees. As if he stared hard enough the figure might reappear.
"Will. Will. William!" The shrill voice of the woman sitting next to him broke his concentration and he looked away from the darkened spot in the distance.
"Huh? What?"
"Will, what is wrong? What are you looking at?"
"I saw...at least I thought I saw...you know what, it was nothing." He looked back into the darkness and shook his head, "It was nothing."
"Are you sure it was nothing? Will, you are shaking. Should we call the police or something?"
Will put his head in his hand and sighed. "No. I'm sorry, I was just startled. I thought I saw something move over there and it caught me off guard. It's nothing to worry about."
The dark shadows from the trees had done their job and hid her from his view. She eased out from behind them again, slowly this time so as not to alert him. She could watch him more easily this way, an unobstructed view into the life that she should have had. The moments passed slowly as she watched the woman sitting next to him stroke his hair and squeeze his hand. Her stomach jumped from heartache. He looked so happy sitting there with her, his wife. Suddenly, he looked up into the darkness. He stood up quickly from his seat letting his beer fall from his hand and shatter onto the dark treated wood beneath his feet. He had seen her through the trees. For sure this time. Her heart sank as she stole one last look at him and turned on her heels to run deep into the darkness behind her.
Will stood still, feet frozen to the ground, breathing quickly in panic. He had seen her standing there. He was sure of it this time. There was no mistaking the tall, slim figure with long hair pasted to the frame of her face from the rain. It was her. He jumped when his wife grabbed his arm, "William, what on earth? What is wrong with you?"
"I saw her. There, between the trees. Just standing. I saw her." His eyes never left the spot as he spoke.
"What? Who? I am calling the police. This is insane."
"Stop." He turned toward her and grabbed the phone from her hand. "Don't. Stop. She isn't there anymore."
"Who the hell are you talking about?"
"Lina."
"Your ex? Oh I am definitely calling the cops now. That is fucking nuts, Will! Are you kidding me? Your ex is standing in our yard watching us from the trees!"
Will held the phone firmly in his hand as he looked back toward the darkness. "No, you don't understand. She's gone now. There's no point."
The short blonde woman stared at him in disbelief. "Is this a joke? What would she be doing here? What if she comes back? Why the hell would she not come knock on the door rather than hide in the trees to watch us?"
He turned back to his wife. Face blank from the shock of being startled. "You don't understand. You won't need to worry about her." The small woman appeared even smaller as she looked up at him, worried. "She is gone. She won't come back. I am sure of it."
"How do you know?" She asked, her voice starting to quiver.
"Because," His face grew somber and the color faded from it once more, "she is dead, Emily."
"Huh?" Emily stepped back from him. "No she isn't. She was just standing there. You saw her. Besides, I would have known. You would have told me something like that."
"Emily, Lina killed herself on the day that you and I were married."
Emily fell back into her chair. Shaking she tried to regain her composure. "This is ridiculous, Will. Stop it right now."
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want it to freak you out." Will sat next to her and held her hand gently to try to calm her. "Emily, when we left that night after the reception we went straight to the airport for our trip to Hawaii. I had a few of the guys take all of the gifts and extra things back to the house because I knew it would be a week before we were back. I didn't want our parents to worry about moving it all back and forth. When they got here there was a dwindling fire in the fire pit and empty beer bottles strewn around the porch. It was raining. They knew someone had been here so they checked around to see if they could find anything else." He stopped talking and pulled his hand away. He stood up warily and took a few steps toward the spot in the trees that he had stared at so intently just a few moments ago.
"Emily." His voice trailed off. "Emily, Lina and I were supposed to get married. She left before the wedding day. I saw her a few times here and there after that and she seemed fine. She always told me, on those times we met, that I was the one for her. She never asked me to take her back though. She said that she could see I was happy and didn't want to take that away from me."
He turned to Emily sitting in the chair, her face pale from shock. "They found her in her wedding dress," a tear ran silently down his face, "hanging from that tree." He pointed back to shadowed place in the wooded cove. "They took care of calling the police. Everything was sorted out before we got home. I made them swear to never tell you. I am sorry. I know that I should have said something."
Emily looked from her husband to the tree and back again, stood warily, then raced into the house. He remained for a moment squinting into the black of the night. "I'm sorry Lina," he whispered before going into the house to try to calm his wife.
Standing in the darkness, alone, out of breath, and weary from running, Lina watched through tear filled eyes as Will walked away. She has been running through this darkness for years now. There is no way out. She had hoped that she would be happier here in the place that she loved. She thought that maybe she could stay here in the moments that she cherished and relive them for an eternity. Instead, she found herself trapped in these trees, destined to watch the love that she should have had thrive in someone else's heart. "I am sorry too," she whispered back before resuming her endless walk through the trees surrounding the home that she once loved.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Unwritten
I wrote this back on August 8, 2010 and came across it again today as I flipped through my old journals. I don't know if that is a bad thing though that I can still apply a poem about life that I wrote three years ago to my life today. oh well...
Unwritten
The path that lies before me is jagged and gray.
It is times like these I wish I could go back the other way.
The choices I have made have led me to this point;
Standing at the crossroad with no clear end in sight.
Why is life so hard, so unwritten, with no clear path?
The one great adventure.
How you live your dash.
What I wouldn't give to have it written out for me.
Where did God leave his book?
Why not out for me to see?
I could use it to look ahead.
I could read the ending page.
Like a novel written just for me;
I could see my final days.
Was I happy?
Did I live in love and grace?
Where did I end up?
Can I see my husband's face?
Did I make him happy?
Did I give him my whole heart?
When did our family come?
I would skip to all these parts.
If only this could happen;
if I could see my life's mistakes
and what it took to fix them,
what chances did I take?
What I wouldn't give to have it written out for me.
Where did God leave his book?
Why not out for me to see?
*"How you live your dash" is a nod to one of my favorite poems "The Dash" written by Linda Ellis*
Unwritten
The path that lies before me is jagged and gray.
It is times like these I wish I could go back the other way.
The choices I have made have led me to this point;
Standing at the crossroad with no clear end in sight.
Why is life so hard, so unwritten, with no clear path?
The one great adventure.
How you live your dash.
What I wouldn't give to have it written out for me.
Where did God leave his book?
Why not out for me to see?
I could use it to look ahead.
I could read the ending page.
Like a novel written just for me;
I could see my final days.
Was I happy?
Did I live in love and grace?
Where did I end up?
Can I see my husband's face?
Did I make him happy?
Did I give him my whole heart?
When did our family come?
I would skip to all these parts.
If only this could happen;
if I could see my life's mistakes
and what it took to fix them,
what chances did I take?
What I wouldn't give to have it written out for me.
Where did God leave his book?
Why not out for me to see?
*"How you live your dash" is a nod to one of my favorite poems "The Dash" written by Linda Ellis*
Friday, March 29, 2013
For my amazing little sister
For my amazing little sister Micaela, always stand up for what you believe in but remember to always keep an open mind with people. Here's how I see it: I believe what I believe and you believe what you do. We may not agree but I will always listen and I expect the same from you. I will probably look up the "evidence" that you bring to a conversation and research your side and then my side again. If in the end I walk away agreeing with you, that's fine. If I walk away disagreeing with you and continue to believe what I think is right then, that's fine too. I won't be mean to you about it, think differently of you, or be hateful to your being. I might pull a Ron Burgandy and say "Agree to disagree. When in Rome", change the subject and then get some beers out of the fridge though.
Now, the reason for this post...My sister instagrammed the equality sign and the white cross on the field of red banner onto the same picture. She stated how she felt about it and then an ignorant person immediately attempted to railroad her- keyword: attempted. I say ignorant because she was unable to state any solid evidence for her argument nor was she willing to hear a view outside of her own. I didn't mean ignorant in the derogatory uneducated/unsophisticated sense that may apply to some out there in the world. After reading the feed I wanted to show my sister my support and share my take on the "issue" at hand. Unfortunately, my response was too long and it wouldn't let me post it. So, now it has made its way here....
"Came across this gem on your feed today :). Thought I'd help you out. Bear in mind, I'm not saying anyone is wrong nor am I attempting to change ones' beliefs. I'm just going to drop some knowledge... "you are choosing what portions of the Bible you want to obey", I really hope that by making that statement someone themselves is not doing the same thing. That being said, if that person is in fact not being hypocritical then I hope that they practice the following (remember, we shouldn't pick and choose): 1) don't store up material or wordly possessions (clothes, shoes, cars, money, etc). (Mt 6:19) The disciple can serve only one master and must choose between God and wealth (Mt 6:24). 2) invite strangers into your home. Feed them, water them, clothe them, nurse them to health, and visit them in prison. If you don't, then you can enjoy hanging out with the devil and his angels in his eternal fire (Mt 25:35-46). 3) lend money to your enemy without expecting repayment (Lk 6:35). 4) if you decide to host a meal, don't invite your friends, family, or wealthy neighbors. Rather, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. To ensure that you will not be repaid for your service (Lk 14: 12-14). 5) you should never eat or touch the flesh of pigs or water dwelling creatures that lack scales or fins-along with a plethora of other creatures that you probably don't eat anyway. Well maybe you do, I don't know. You should check the list to be sure. So, no bacon, leather or shellfish for you (Lv 11: 4-12). 6) if as a woman, you pray without your head covered you are very shameful. ( 1Cor 11: 5-6). Oh you scandalous sinner, you. 7) if a damsel is not a virgin on her wedding day then it is expected that an angry mob drag her back to her father's house where they should stone her. Until death. Because she's a whore. Husbands are supposed to check for that and take it to her father who takes it to the the elders of the city to investigate if he finds that she isn't. And by investigate, I mean they're going to get all up in her business (Dt 22: 20-21). 8) if you're a woman you are not allowed to teach or hold a position of power over a man. Let alone speak to one(1Tm 2:11-12). I hope the phrase, "shut your mouth and make me a sandwich, woman" doesn't offend you. The list goes on, don't tempt me. That being said, not following the above rules and many more unlisted is considered sinning. That bit covers your sinners argument and your "stop choosing what portions of the bible you want to obey" argument. That last one mostly because I'd be willing to bet you didn't choose those portions I listed from the bible to obey. Thereby nullifying that entire argument.
Now, considering the separation of religion and state, the voting about gay rights that is happening right now literally has nothing to do with religious "marriage". It's calling for the government to recognize the civil union between two people who love each other just like they do for a heterosexual mono or biracial couple. Nobody said anything about making your church marry the homosexuals. Thousands of heterosexual couples get married through the government daily, do you think that it really bugs them if your church isn't the one signing the paper? I mean, last time I checked, your religious entities aren't the ones who are handling my taxes, insurance, beneficiaries, name change, legal benefits, will, or the people who get to visit me in the hospital if I'm dead or dying. That would be the my own responsibility and if I don't happen to do the paper work then its the government's job-all of the above would fall to my family or spouse by default. So, if your lesbian lover of 20 years dies in a freak accident you are just shit-out-of-luck. You basically don't exist. These responsibilities are not governed by your religion. This movement that is happening right now is to recognize the civil rights and liberties of human beings not to recognize who they are sleeping with and whether or not someone's God will smite them for it.
However, if this government issue ever somehow makes its way through your religious building's blockaded doors, I don't agree with the feelings that you are saying God most certainly has about it. I've never seen your God or heard him -he definitely sounds a whole lot more unloving than mine;though I'm willing to bet they are one in the same- and I'm sure you haven't either. However, if you have, then feel free to stop me. That being said, I'm pretty sure you don't KNOW whether he would care or not if a gay couple marries under his name. I mean the bible was written thousands of years ago. By. Man. God didn't pen it in his own hand. How can you be certain he even said it. Were you there? Can I borrow your time machine? Man wrote it. Man said God spoke it. Man demanded you believe it. And now man uses it to spread hatred and condemn others by claiming that God most definitely feels that way too. Now those who are against this recent civil rights movement are forcing their religious "moral"-I use quotes because I don't agree with what they consider moral, obviously - views down my throat. All because they somehow think that if someone they don't even know is allowed to get married to another someone they don't know by way of the government, that in some direct way their own religious lives and values will be disastrously affected. They somehow think it is morally acceptable to value their own status, life, well being, and liberties above another human being. Well, I don't. I don't agree with them and they don't agree with me but they can believe what they want as I believe what I do. I believe that MY God loves all beings. MY God values every life. MY God welcomes every sinner (which is everyone, hetero or homo, by the way). MY God would be disgusted at the morally corrupt behavior of people who are calling themselves Christians-and evidently their God feels that way toward me- but MY God would love them anyway. The strange thing is, as a Christian, MY God IS your God. So, what happens now?"
Now, the reason for this post...My sister instagrammed the equality sign and the white cross on the field of red banner onto the same picture. She stated how she felt about it and then an ignorant person immediately attempted to railroad her- keyword: attempted. I say ignorant because she was unable to state any solid evidence for her argument nor was she willing to hear a view outside of her own. I didn't mean ignorant in the derogatory uneducated/unsophisticated sense that may apply to some out there in the world. After reading the feed I wanted to show my sister my support and share my take on the "issue" at hand. Unfortunately, my response was too long and it wouldn't let me post it. So, now it has made its way here....
"Came across this gem on your feed today :). Thought I'd help you out. Bear in mind, I'm not saying anyone is wrong nor am I attempting to change ones' beliefs. I'm just going to drop some knowledge... "you are choosing what portions of the Bible you want to obey", I really hope that by making that statement someone themselves is not doing the same thing. That being said, if that person is in fact not being hypocritical then I hope that they practice the following (remember, we shouldn't pick and choose): 1) don't store up material or wordly possessions (clothes, shoes, cars, money, etc). (Mt 6:19) The disciple can serve only one master and must choose between God and wealth (Mt 6:24). 2) invite strangers into your home. Feed them, water them, clothe them, nurse them to health, and visit them in prison. If you don't, then you can enjoy hanging out with the devil and his angels in his eternal fire (Mt 25:35-46). 3) lend money to your enemy without expecting repayment (Lk 6:35). 4) if you decide to host a meal, don't invite your friends, family, or wealthy neighbors. Rather, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. To ensure that you will not be repaid for your service (Lk 14: 12-14). 5) you should never eat or touch the flesh of pigs or water dwelling creatures that lack scales or fins-along with a plethora of other creatures that you probably don't eat anyway. Well maybe you do, I don't know. You should check the list to be sure. So, no bacon, leather or shellfish for you (Lv 11: 4-12). 6) if as a woman, you pray without your head covered you are very shameful. ( 1Cor 11: 5-6). Oh you scandalous sinner, you. 7) if a damsel is not a virgin on her wedding day then it is expected that an angry mob drag her back to her father's house where they should stone her. Until death. Because she's a whore. Husbands are supposed to check for that and take it to her father who takes it to the the elders of the city to investigate if he finds that she isn't. And by investigate, I mean they're going to get all up in her business (Dt 22: 20-21). 8) if you're a woman you are not allowed to teach or hold a position of power over a man. Let alone speak to one(1Tm 2:11-12). I hope the phrase, "shut your mouth and make me a sandwich, woman" doesn't offend you. The list goes on, don't tempt me. That being said, not following the above rules and many more unlisted is considered sinning. That bit covers your sinners argument and your "stop choosing what portions of the bible you want to obey" argument. That last one mostly because I'd be willing to bet you didn't choose those portions I listed from the bible to obey. Thereby nullifying that entire argument.
Now, considering the separation of religion and state, the voting about gay rights that is happening right now literally has nothing to do with religious "marriage". It's calling for the government to recognize the civil union between two people who love each other just like they do for a heterosexual mono or biracial couple. Nobody said anything about making your church marry the homosexuals. Thousands of heterosexual couples get married through the government daily, do you think that it really bugs them if your church isn't the one signing the paper? I mean, last time I checked, your religious entities aren't the ones who are handling my taxes, insurance, beneficiaries, name change, legal benefits, will, or the people who get to visit me in the hospital if I'm dead or dying. That would be the my own responsibility and if I don't happen to do the paper work then its the government's job-all of the above would fall to my family or spouse by default. So, if your lesbian lover of 20 years dies in a freak accident you are just shit-out-of-luck. You basically don't exist. These responsibilities are not governed by your religion. This movement that is happening right now is to recognize the civil rights and liberties of human beings not to recognize who they are sleeping with and whether or not someone's God will smite them for it.
However, if this government issue ever somehow makes its way through your religious building's blockaded doors, I don't agree with the feelings that you are saying God most certainly has about it. I've never seen your God or heard him -he definitely sounds a whole lot more unloving than mine;though I'm willing to bet they are one in the same- and I'm sure you haven't either. However, if you have, then feel free to stop me. That being said, I'm pretty sure you don't KNOW whether he would care or not if a gay couple marries under his name. I mean the bible was written thousands of years ago. By. Man. God didn't pen it in his own hand. How can you be certain he even said it. Were you there? Can I borrow your time machine? Man wrote it. Man said God spoke it. Man demanded you believe it. And now man uses it to spread hatred and condemn others by claiming that God most definitely feels that way too. Now those who are against this recent civil rights movement are forcing their religious "moral"-I use quotes because I don't agree with what they consider moral, obviously - views down my throat. All because they somehow think that if someone they don't even know is allowed to get married to another someone they don't know by way of the government, that in some direct way their own religious lives and values will be disastrously affected. They somehow think it is morally acceptable to value their own status, life, well being, and liberties above another human being. Well, I don't. I don't agree with them and they don't agree with me but they can believe what they want as I believe what I do. I believe that MY God loves all beings. MY God values every life. MY God welcomes every sinner (which is everyone, hetero or homo, by the way). MY God would be disgusted at the morally corrupt behavior of people who are calling themselves Christians-and evidently their God feels that way toward me- but MY God would love them anyway. The strange thing is, as a Christian, MY God IS your God. So, what happens now?"
Saturday, October 13, 2012
The Collector
Her coffee was cold by now as she stirred it lazily with a spoon. Head rested on her hand; her mind lolled over his words from the beginning.
"Of course I like you, I talk to you everyday, I come to visit on the weekends. Would I do that if I didn't like you? I just don't want to be in a serious relationship for a while. I told you that from the get-go, right?"
She had heard those words so often before. From her own lips. It's what she said when she didn't really see a relationship going anywhere but liked having the company. She stopped listening to his feigned 'sorries' and dwelt in her thoughts. no wonder I steer clear of relationships. This feels awful! I always knew I was protecting myself from something . She had seen the hurt looking back at her from the other side of a table; just as hers had looked back at him now. She had always been able to keep eye contact, never faltering as she tore worlds apart. The eye contact was not broken at this moment either. "Karma is a bitch isn't she?" Her words cut his sentence off while he was in the midst of talking in circles around himself.
"Wait, what?" He stuttered, thrown off by her sudden input into the so far one sided conversation.
She laughed and finally took her eyes off the swirling, caramel colored drink. "I said, 'karma is a bitch'". Sitting up from her lazy slouch she breathed in deeply here we go she thought. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I get it, really, I do. I've said the same thing to every person since my fiancé. Honestly, stop apologizing"
He stared wide eyed back at her. He wasn't accustomed to being told anything outright like that but she wasn't used to being told no. She never thought the shoe would be on the other foot, usually the wall she built up held strong against a pair of blue eyes; not this time. "How obnoxious", she whispered under her breath, accidentally saying her thoughts out loud. Shaking her head she continued, " I am usually the one saying this to people, nobody says this to me. I'm not trying to sound conceited but I don't let anyone close enough to pull this kind of stuff. I'm just angry with myself really. I let myself like you more than you liked me." She rolled her eyes in annoyance and muttered, "that won't be happening again".
Blue eyes looked back at her sadly really? You are giving me a pity look? Fuck that shit; the look made her blood boil. "Look, I don't really care what you do" , she really did, " I'm just going with the flow" she put on her best poker face. Sometimes her expressions gave away her thoughts but not this time. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing that he had that power over her; the power to break her heart.
"I don't have time for this sort of silliness. I won't be someone's second choice. I won't be the one to fill someone's time just because they want a person to hang out with. I am too good for that. So, if you can say that somewhere down the line you see this working then I don't have a problem continuing this. Whatever this is."
Blank, sad eyes looked back at her, "So I keep you now or lose you forever?"
"What do you mean?" She was puzzled.
"you'll go find someone else."
"No I won't." She lied. a wise woman leaves before she is left looped through her mind; it had become her calling card by now. She wanted to leave an open window for if he ever came walking back into her life. If this is how he was going to play this game she wanted to make sure that he got back what he deserved, ten fold. Nobody was going to make her fall in love and then ruin her. Every man who tried always paid dearly for that mistake.
"Listen", she sighed, "You told me that you didn't want a relationship for a while right? Well, you can't drag me around. Figure your shit out and if I am still available then maybe we can talk; I probably won't be available but if I am then you can call."
She pushed her cup to the middle of her table and pressed her hands onto the edge. Biggest mistake you have ever made sliding her chair from under the table she stood and tossed some cash onto the table you will come back, they always do, she smirked at the thought. He watched her carefully, silently as she turned to walk out the door.
"I don't know what to say."
She stopped abruptly and looked back, "Don't say anything. Just fix yourself and come back to me okay?"
"Okay" he smiled, a little light returning to his eyes.
******
The darkness welcomed her as she opened the front door. Sweeping past the light switch she threw her handbag onto the floor in the entryway. Her path was rote; through the front door, ten steps forward, turn right. From there three steps to the left was the kitchen or fifteen steps in front of her was the living room. Moving forward she stopped just before the couch. Her eyes were adjusting now and she could see the faint outline of the television and the tall bookshelf standing next to it.
She was so proud of her bookshelf. She had crafted it herself and filled it to the brim with books both new and old. She loved the smell of the old yellowing books that she spent hours in antique stores searching for. The new ones she loved just as much as they were always filled with such amazing adventures. She glided toward it whimsically as her thoughts took her through the titles that she had carefully organized. She knew the location of each one. She paused in front of it fourth shelf down. Sixth book from the right. her fingers skimmed across the spines. She stopped as her finger tips felt the familiar ridges of the leather-bound novel. It was a collection of short stories by her favorite author Edgar Allan Poe.
She lifted it from it's resting place. The scent of the leather and aging pages wafted up to her nose and she breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. Holding it in her hands she opened the cover and ran her hand down the first page then over to the side. Finding the familiar notch along the edge she dug her nails into it and pulled the pages open. "Ah, there you are" she whispered as she found her favorite story, The Tell-Tale Heart. The carved hole beneath the title of the story revealed itself clearly against the stark white of the pages and she reached inside, fingers curling around a large antique brass key. She let the book fall to the floor and moved the key into the empty hole on the shelf that the novel had once occupied. She felt blindly for the key hole, the pitch black of the lightless room made it difficult to find the small hole. The key finally slipped into its resting place; she turned it carefully.
Click the bookshelf groaned and creaked as it popped open away from the wall. She pulled it open farther and walked inside. Flames shot up from the torches that lined the wall as she walked carefully down the hallway. The floor was carpeted in deep black and the walls seemed ominous as they glowed a deep red, reflecting the light of the flickering torches. Her every step echoed around her. She quickened her pace. At the end of the hall stood a tall door. It was a deep mahogany covered in rich hand carved designs and on it rested a large brass handle that was shaped like a ring. As she grew closer to the door her steps mixed with a deep steady sound, like the beating of a heart. With each step the beat became louder and seemed to multiply. Each sound had a different rhythm but the same steady familiar pace.
As she reached the door and touched the handle the pounding stopped. Every beat paused in anxiety as if whatever was behind the door could feel her presence. She sighed and closed her eyes, Smiled and opened them again. She pulled the heavy door open with all her might. She stepped through the threshold and the pounding resumed loudly, quickly, as if everything within the room was in a sudden panic. Flames poured through the room and leapt up to rest upon the torches that hung from the walls. "My dear sweet loves, how I have missed you", she stepped gracefully toward the middle of the room where a large marble table rested. The pounding was racing. So many rhythms each now with its own anxious pace. The sound was like being surrounded by dozens of drummers each one playing his own tune with no two alike.
She hummed to herself and twirled around sending her dress spinning open in a wide circle. Lifting her arms above her head she pirouetted around the table happily moving along with the beat of the drumming. Her eyes opened as she came to a stop in front of the table and looked longingly down at it. "I loved you all, you know. I did. I couldn't let you hurt me. You understand don't you?" She ran her hands along the boxes that rested atop the large table. Each one was intricate and unique matching the personalities of what laid inside.
"You will be having some company soon. There is another that I love. He thinks that he is going to leave me." She picked up the box closest to her hand. It shuddered and began to pulse violently in fear. "Now, now my love. Calm yourself. You are safe now and so am I. You can't hurt me when you are like this. Now I can hold you forever. You and all of my other loves. I have you forever." She carefully lifted the lid to the box in her hand and reached inside. "There, there now", the heart pulsed irregularly, beating in terror. She squeezed it gently, "I promised you once I would be careful. Did I lie? I saved you from your body. He was so careless. You would have been in so much more pain if I had left you in him, he would have gotten you broken." It raced trying desperately to leap from her hand. She lowered the heart back into the box and closed the lid, "You are safe here my love. No one can break you now." She placed it back onto the table and sat down next to it. Moving it and the other boxes around her she closed her eyes and began to hum. Smiling she touched the top of each one, "There will be another soon. There will be another."
"Of course I like you, I talk to you everyday, I come to visit on the weekends. Would I do that if I didn't like you? I just don't want to be in a serious relationship for a while. I told you that from the get-go, right?"
She had heard those words so often before. From her own lips. It's what she said when she didn't really see a relationship going anywhere but liked having the company. She stopped listening to his feigned 'sorries' and dwelt in her thoughts. no wonder I steer clear of relationships. This feels awful! I always knew I was protecting myself from something . She had seen the hurt looking back at her from the other side of a table; just as hers had looked back at him now. She had always been able to keep eye contact, never faltering as she tore worlds apart. The eye contact was not broken at this moment either. "Karma is a bitch isn't she?" Her words cut his sentence off while he was in the midst of talking in circles around himself.
"Wait, what?" He stuttered, thrown off by her sudden input into the so far one sided conversation.
She laughed and finally took her eyes off the swirling, caramel colored drink. "I said, 'karma is a bitch'". Sitting up from her lazy slouch she breathed in deeply here we go she thought. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I get it, really, I do. I've said the same thing to every person since my fiancé. Honestly, stop apologizing"
He stared wide eyed back at her. He wasn't accustomed to being told anything outright like that but she wasn't used to being told no. She never thought the shoe would be on the other foot, usually the wall she built up held strong against a pair of blue eyes; not this time. "How obnoxious", she whispered under her breath, accidentally saying her thoughts out loud. Shaking her head she continued, " I am usually the one saying this to people, nobody says this to me. I'm not trying to sound conceited but I don't let anyone close enough to pull this kind of stuff. I'm just angry with myself really. I let myself like you more than you liked me." She rolled her eyes in annoyance and muttered, "that won't be happening again".
Blue eyes looked back at her sadly really? You are giving me a pity look? Fuck that shit; the look made her blood boil. "Look, I don't really care what you do" , she really did, " I'm just going with the flow" she put on her best poker face. Sometimes her expressions gave away her thoughts but not this time. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing that he had that power over her; the power to break her heart.
"I don't have time for this sort of silliness. I won't be someone's second choice. I won't be the one to fill someone's time just because they want a person to hang out with. I am too good for that. So, if you can say that somewhere down the line you see this working then I don't have a problem continuing this. Whatever this is."
Blank, sad eyes looked back at her, "So I keep you now or lose you forever?"
"What do you mean?" She was puzzled.
"you'll go find someone else."
"No I won't." She lied. a wise woman leaves before she is left looped through her mind; it had become her calling card by now. She wanted to leave an open window for if he ever came walking back into her life. If this is how he was going to play this game she wanted to make sure that he got back what he deserved, ten fold. Nobody was going to make her fall in love and then ruin her. Every man who tried always paid dearly for that mistake.
"Listen", she sighed, "You told me that you didn't want a relationship for a while right? Well, you can't drag me around. Figure your shit out and if I am still available then maybe we can talk; I probably won't be available but if I am then you can call."
She pushed her cup to the middle of her table and pressed her hands onto the edge. Biggest mistake you have ever made sliding her chair from under the table she stood and tossed some cash onto the table you will come back, they always do, she smirked at the thought. He watched her carefully, silently as she turned to walk out the door.
"I don't know what to say."
She stopped abruptly and looked back, "Don't say anything. Just fix yourself and come back to me okay?"
"Okay" he smiled, a little light returning to his eyes.
******
The darkness welcomed her as she opened the front door. Sweeping past the light switch she threw her handbag onto the floor in the entryway. Her path was rote; through the front door, ten steps forward, turn right. From there three steps to the left was the kitchen or fifteen steps in front of her was the living room. Moving forward she stopped just before the couch. Her eyes were adjusting now and she could see the faint outline of the television and the tall bookshelf standing next to it.
She was so proud of her bookshelf. She had crafted it herself and filled it to the brim with books both new and old. She loved the smell of the old yellowing books that she spent hours in antique stores searching for. The new ones she loved just as much as they were always filled with such amazing adventures. She glided toward it whimsically as her thoughts took her through the titles that she had carefully organized. She knew the location of each one. She paused in front of it fourth shelf down. Sixth book from the right. her fingers skimmed across the spines. She stopped as her finger tips felt the familiar ridges of the leather-bound novel. It was a collection of short stories by her favorite author Edgar Allan Poe.
She lifted it from it's resting place. The scent of the leather and aging pages wafted up to her nose and she breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. Holding it in her hands she opened the cover and ran her hand down the first page then over to the side. Finding the familiar notch along the edge she dug her nails into it and pulled the pages open. "Ah, there you are" she whispered as she found her favorite story, The Tell-Tale Heart. The carved hole beneath the title of the story revealed itself clearly against the stark white of the pages and she reached inside, fingers curling around a large antique brass key. She let the book fall to the floor and moved the key into the empty hole on the shelf that the novel had once occupied. She felt blindly for the key hole, the pitch black of the lightless room made it difficult to find the small hole. The key finally slipped into its resting place; she turned it carefully.
Click the bookshelf groaned and creaked as it popped open away from the wall. She pulled it open farther and walked inside. Flames shot up from the torches that lined the wall as she walked carefully down the hallway. The floor was carpeted in deep black and the walls seemed ominous as they glowed a deep red, reflecting the light of the flickering torches. Her every step echoed around her. She quickened her pace. At the end of the hall stood a tall door. It was a deep mahogany covered in rich hand carved designs and on it rested a large brass handle that was shaped like a ring. As she grew closer to the door her steps mixed with a deep steady sound, like the beating of a heart. With each step the beat became louder and seemed to multiply. Each sound had a different rhythm but the same steady familiar pace.
As she reached the door and touched the handle the pounding stopped. Every beat paused in anxiety as if whatever was behind the door could feel her presence. She sighed and closed her eyes, Smiled and opened them again. She pulled the heavy door open with all her might. She stepped through the threshold and the pounding resumed loudly, quickly, as if everything within the room was in a sudden panic. Flames poured through the room and leapt up to rest upon the torches that hung from the walls. "My dear sweet loves, how I have missed you", she stepped gracefully toward the middle of the room where a large marble table rested. The pounding was racing. So many rhythms each now with its own anxious pace. The sound was like being surrounded by dozens of drummers each one playing his own tune with no two alike.
She hummed to herself and twirled around sending her dress spinning open in a wide circle. Lifting her arms above her head she pirouetted around the table happily moving along with the beat of the drumming. Her eyes opened as she came to a stop in front of the table and looked longingly down at it. "I loved you all, you know. I did. I couldn't let you hurt me. You understand don't you?" She ran her hands along the boxes that rested atop the large table. Each one was intricate and unique matching the personalities of what laid inside.
"You will be having some company soon. There is another that I love. He thinks that he is going to leave me." She picked up the box closest to her hand. It shuddered and began to pulse violently in fear. "Now, now my love. Calm yourself. You are safe now and so am I. You can't hurt me when you are like this. Now I can hold you forever. You and all of my other loves. I have you forever." She carefully lifted the lid to the box in her hand and reached inside. "There, there now", the heart pulsed irregularly, beating in terror. She squeezed it gently, "I promised you once I would be careful. Did I lie? I saved you from your body. He was so careless. You would have been in so much more pain if I had left you in him, he would have gotten you broken." It raced trying desperately to leap from her hand. She lowered the heart back into the box and closed the lid, "You are safe here my love. No one can break you now." She placed it back onto the table and sat down next to it. Moving it and the other boxes around her she closed her eyes and began to hum. Smiling she touched the top of each one, "There will be another soon. There will be another."
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Boredom has gotten the best of me ...again
So, I've been writing a book in my free time. I thought maybe I'll just start putting up pieces of what I have done. I am so bored lately so maybe this will give me the motivation to continue writing! Probably not, but it is the thought that counts.
Prologue: The Keeper of the Fates
Part 1
The sound of the rain pouring down through the trees mixed loudly with the racing hooves of a sleek, black stallion. The hooded rider tucked expertly under the incoming branches from the foliage around, moving as one with the horse. The dark night made it even more difficult for her to see through the rain, still she pulled her hood down lower covering her eyes, almost blocking her sight completely. Leaning in toward the horse she edged it faster over the wooded terrain. She felt the flex of every muscle in the powerful animal’s body as it was pushed to the limit. The faster she could get there the faster this all would be over. They both would be able to rest.
The lightning flashed in the sky above, illuminating the realm around her. She began counting the seconds until she heard the sound of thunder. “One. Two. Three” She counted slowly, “Four. Five”. Thunder rolled in the near distance. The loud rumble lasted for what seemed like an eternity. The storm is close now. It will be on top of her soon, she knew the worst of it was yet to come. She leaned forward into her stallion again, “Please go faster, boy. I know you can do it. I know it’s hard but we will be there soon”. The horse snorted through his nostrils and pushed down harder into the soft ground, pressing faster into the darkness.
“It should be close now”, she thought aloud. She glanced up and squinted, straining to see through the rain. In the distance a cave was aglow with firelight, “There, that’s it.” The thunder clapped again nearly just over her head. “If I don’t get there tonight I won’t have another chance at this. A storm this size only happens once. Come on boy. Hiyah!” They raced forward quickly gaining on their destination.
Nearing their purpose in the mountainside, the rider began to slow her horse, “Easy boy, easy. You did it”. She pulled back the reigns bringing the mighty horse to a stop. He stomped his feet loudly, expressing his irritation for having been pushed so hard for so long in these dreary conditions. She rubbed his neck apologetically and pulled him toward the cave with caution. She had no choice; this had to be done tonight.
Hood still lowered she slowly approached the wide, open mouth of the cave. Next to the fire sat a hunched figure. Thunder clapped again. She jumped, startled at the abrupt sound breaking into her careful concentration. She had inadvertently let out a gasp as her body jolted along with the powerful crash. The hunched figure shuffled in its place and began to turn slowly to face her, her gasp had alerted the shadow-like form to her presence. She stopped suddenly as she saw the movement and held her breath, frightened. Her horse began shuffling back and forth, sensing her fear and reacting as if begging her to retreat. She stood still, waiting.
The figure was turned toward her now, face masked by the darkness and the flickering firelight behind it. Raising its arm it beckoned her closer. She began to move again into the shelter of the massive cavern. Her horse stood still, forcing his hooves into the ground. He sensed the danger in the approach and tried earnestly to prevent moving any closer. She tugged on the reigns, they both needed to be out of the rain. Hesitantly, he began to move. She pulled him closer to her. In case things went poorly she would need quick access to an escape.
Prologue: The Keeper of the Fates
Part 1
The sound of the rain pouring down through the trees mixed loudly with the racing hooves of a sleek, black stallion. The hooded rider tucked expertly under the incoming branches from the foliage around, moving as one with the horse. The dark night made it even more difficult for her to see through the rain, still she pulled her hood down lower covering her eyes, almost blocking her sight completely. Leaning in toward the horse she edged it faster over the wooded terrain. She felt the flex of every muscle in the powerful animal’s body as it was pushed to the limit. The faster she could get there the faster this all would be over. They both would be able to rest.
The lightning flashed in the sky above, illuminating the realm around her. She began counting the seconds until she heard the sound of thunder. “One. Two. Three” She counted slowly, “Four. Five”. Thunder rolled in the near distance. The loud rumble lasted for what seemed like an eternity. The storm is close now. It will be on top of her soon, she knew the worst of it was yet to come. She leaned forward into her stallion again, “Please go faster, boy. I know you can do it. I know it’s hard but we will be there soon”. The horse snorted through his nostrils and pushed down harder into the soft ground, pressing faster into the darkness.
“It should be close now”, she thought aloud. She glanced up and squinted, straining to see through the rain. In the distance a cave was aglow with firelight, “There, that’s it.” The thunder clapped again nearly just over her head. “If I don’t get there tonight I won’t have another chance at this. A storm this size only happens once. Come on boy. Hiyah!” They raced forward quickly gaining on their destination.
Nearing their purpose in the mountainside, the rider began to slow her horse, “Easy boy, easy. You did it”. She pulled back the reigns bringing the mighty horse to a stop. He stomped his feet loudly, expressing his irritation for having been pushed so hard for so long in these dreary conditions. She rubbed his neck apologetically and pulled him toward the cave with caution. She had no choice; this had to be done tonight.
Hood still lowered she slowly approached the wide, open mouth of the cave. Next to the fire sat a hunched figure. Thunder clapped again. She jumped, startled at the abrupt sound breaking into her careful concentration. She had inadvertently let out a gasp as her body jolted along with the powerful crash. The hunched figure shuffled in its place and began to turn slowly to face her, her gasp had alerted the shadow-like form to her presence. She stopped suddenly as she saw the movement and held her breath, frightened. Her horse began shuffling back and forth, sensing her fear and reacting as if begging her to retreat. She stood still, waiting.
The figure was turned toward her now, face masked by the darkness and the flickering firelight behind it. Raising its arm it beckoned her closer. She began to move again into the shelter of the massive cavern. Her horse stood still, forcing his hooves into the ground. He sensed the danger in the approach and tried earnestly to prevent moving any closer. She tugged on the reigns, they both needed to be out of the rain. Hesitantly, he began to move. She pulled him closer to her. In case things went poorly she would need quick access to an escape.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The House on Sleepy Hollow
The sky was grey and dreary as I rode around the corner of the entrance to my old subdivision. The dark, deep brown house that terrified me when I was little stood ominously to my left. I rode slowly forward looking for a shorter or quicker path to my destination. I was searching for something, someone I think.
I came upon my old house and the gate stood partially opened. Riding closer I was able to kick it wider and pedal through, my sister rode with me keeping close behind. I followed up along the gate riding on a cement slab that I don't remember being there when I was awake, but it was there now so I lead my bike over it. My old swing set was bigger here in my dreams; longer, darker, foreign. I continued past it looking around for the other opening in the tall wooden privacy fence. Moving my bike onward fear began to grow in my gut. Maybe it was anxiety. Feelings can be so similar in dreams.
As I pushed on the pedals of the bike, that I once rode when I was young, I felt a pain on the bottoms of my feet. Sharp, stabbing pain. I pushed harder, still the pain only grew. I looked down to my feet and lifted them away from the bicycle. Where there had been flat, plastic, white pedals was only the metal that had once held them. On both sides the metal stood straight up, pinched closed on the ends. Why did this experience have to be so painful all of the sudden? I put my feet back down and started moving again, ignoring the pain that followed each rotation.
Finally, the other entrance gate in the fence was within view. I sped to it hoping that the new owners to this house would not catch me, I didn't know them, they could be dangerous. I zipped through, rolling into the street. My eyes focused on the house that I came here for. A little one story ranch just down the road a few houses before the cul-de-sac. Its roof slanted downward over the dark blue siding. The front door was tucked back into the porch hidden behind some tall foliage. As I neared it the other homes that lived in my childhood memories blurred together; foggy relics of places and people I once knew.
After what seemed like an eternity I reached the house where I had spent many days playing and laughing. I hopped off my bike and looked back. My sister was still there right behind me but everything else had disappeared. It was only the two of us and this house. I took a deep breath and climbed the steps to on the porch leading to the door, raised my fist to knock and paused in fear of what would happen next. I urged myself to keep going. With my stomach in my throat I rapped lightly on the door and waited for an answer.
A tall, wide set man in a tan bowling shirt replied to my hesitant knocking by opening the door and stepping out. His dark brown eyes glistened as he smiled broadly down toward my sister and me. Looking up at this abnormally tall man I asked him for a specific family name and whether they resided there. He chuckled kindly and replied, "No, they don't live here anymore. Maybe you could try one of the other houses." He pointed off in the direction of the cul-de-sac.
I whirled around and suddenly I stood at the end of the drive staring wide-eyed at the picture before me. The world around me had disappeared and I was alone in front of a huge yellow house. The windows and door were as dark as ink that had spilled across the table from the bottle. As friendly as the color may have been it was the dark black of the rest of the house that caused my stomach to leap back to my throat. It was as if the house was telling me what I already knew.
The blank darkness of the glass hurled itself toward me as the memories flooded back. I wasn't searching for a family. I was searching for one person. One person that could not be found here in this small blue house that I rode to. Not there in that bright yellow house with the jet black features marring its sunny face. I already know where this person is and they can never be found again. Not here in this dream of mine and not in the world where I am awake.
Still I search. For fifteen years I have searched. Looking here in this world of dreams knowing that this place might be the only place I can find them. I still can't find them. My heart begging to be forgiven for a fault from long ago. To take back events. To change the order of time. To alter a moment so small and so fleeting that it should not have mattered at all. It was worth the flicker of a humming bird's wing, the flutter of an eye before it closes to sleep, or a whisper in the wind that blows through the autumn trees. These things, these small insignificant things change every moment that follows like a ripple in a calm glass lake gleaming as the sun begins to rise from its slumber.
It is curious how everything froze in my one small moment, trapped by death to remain un-mended. Rippling for always by a miniscule stone tossed repeatedly into the same center in a continuos loop through time. To leave me searching forever for the shore that may stop it. Forever for the mend to the fault.
I fear I will have to search my dreams for eternity.
I came upon my old house and the gate stood partially opened. Riding closer I was able to kick it wider and pedal through, my sister rode with me keeping close behind. I followed up along the gate riding on a cement slab that I don't remember being there when I was awake, but it was there now so I lead my bike over it. My old swing set was bigger here in my dreams; longer, darker, foreign. I continued past it looking around for the other opening in the tall wooden privacy fence. Moving my bike onward fear began to grow in my gut. Maybe it was anxiety. Feelings can be so similar in dreams.
As I pushed on the pedals of the bike, that I once rode when I was young, I felt a pain on the bottoms of my feet. Sharp, stabbing pain. I pushed harder, still the pain only grew. I looked down to my feet and lifted them away from the bicycle. Where there had been flat, plastic, white pedals was only the metal that had once held them. On both sides the metal stood straight up, pinched closed on the ends. Why did this experience have to be so painful all of the sudden? I put my feet back down and started moving again, ignoring the pain that followed each rotation.
Finally, the other entrance gate in the fence was within view. I sped to it hoping that the new owners to this house would not catch me, I didn't know them, they could be dangerous. I zipped through, rolling into the street. My eyes focused on the house that I came here for. A little one story ranch just down the road a few houses before the cul-de-sac. Its roof slanted downward over the dark blue siding. The front door was tucked back into the porch hidden behind some tall foliage. As I neared it the other homes that lived in my childhood memories blurred together; foggy relics of places and people I once knew.
After what seemed like an eternity I reached the house where I had spent many days playing and laughing. I hopped off my bike and looked back. My sister was still there right behind me but everything else had disappeared. It was only the two of us and this house. I took a deep breath and climbed the steps to on the porch leading to the door, raised my fist to knock and paused in fear of what would happen next. I urged myself to keep going. With my stomach in my throat I rapped lightly on the door and waited for an answer.
A tall, wide set man in a tan bowling shirt replied to my hesitant knocking by opening the door and stepping out. His dark brown eyes glistened as he smiled broadly down toward my sister and me. Looking up at this abnormally tall man I asked him for a specific family name and whether they resided there. He chuckled kindly and replied, "No, they don't live here anymore. Maybe you could try one of the other houses." He pointed off in the direction of the cul-de-sac.
I whirled around and suddenly I stood at the end of the drive staring wide-eyed at the picture before me. The world around me had disappeared and I was alone in front of a huge yellow house. The windows and door were as dark as ink that had spilled across the table from the bottle. As friendly as the color may have been it was the dark black of the rest of the house that caused my stomach to leap back to my throat. It was as if the house was telling me what I already knew.
The blank darkness of the glass hurled itself toward me as the memories flooded back. I wasn't searching for a family. I was searching for one person. One person that could not be found here in this small blue house that I rode to. Not there in that bright yellow house with the jet black features marring its sunny face. I already know where this person is and they can never be found again. Not here in this dream of mine and not in the world where I am awake.
Still I search. For fifteen years I have searched. Looking here in this world of dreams knowing that this place might be the only place I can find them. I still can't find them. My heart begging to be forgiven for a fault from long ago. To take back events. To change the order of time. To alter a moment so small and so fleeting that it should not have mattered at all. It was worth the flicker of a humming bird's wing, the flutter of an eye before it closes to sleep, or a whisper in the wind that blows through the autumn trees. These things, these small insignificant things change every moment that follows like a ripple in a calm glass lake gleaming as the sun begins to rise from its slumber.
It is curious how everything froze in my one small moment, trapped by death to remain un-mended. Rippling for always by a miniscule stone tossed repeatedly into the same center in a continuos loop through time. To leave me searching forever for the shore that may stop it. Forever for the mend to the fault.
I fear I will have to search my dreams for eternity.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
something good...
"Every day may not be good but there is good in every day"
I wake up every morning and roll out of bed leaving my snuggly furry babies in the warmth of my fuzzy pink blankets. I yawn, stretch and ponder momentarily about crawling back into my cozy nest. I shake the thought away, "You can't spend your life in bed sleeping no matter how amazing it is!" Falling through the doorway to my bathroom I flip on the lights and squint my eyes in disgust at the beams forcing themselves so viciously into my pupils. I hate mornings. I sleepily fumble through my morning ritual; turn on shower, waste time on facebook while the shower warms up, get in shower and wonder why it is socially unacceptable to skip this every day and how much it would really affect others if I just bypassed this silliness. Finish annoying shower step, wash my face, brush my chompers, and sit in the sink (yes I sit in the sink every morning) to do my hair and consider putting on make-up. I opt against it. I am not going to work to find a suitor. My kids don't care if I look like Michelle Pfeiffer's character, Lamia, in the movie Stardust; in the end battle scene.
Yet another day has begun. Ugh.
My poor pups give me sad, sleepy eyes in silent complaint as I gently wake them from their slumber. Once I leave the bed for my "morning torture" they are in heaven and sprawl in every direction in a state of overwhelming comfort. We all walk outside, still only half awake. After our walk they get to go back to sleep for a few more hours in my sister's room so I don't know what they would be complaining about when I wake them.
Time to go to work. I grab my bag and keys and walk out the door, leaving my coffee and breakfast sitting on the counter top. Again. Without fail, I trip down one or two stairs and pause mumbling curses to the cement death trap that is my stairwell. I locate my unbelievably classy '95 Camry and climb in. I need to clean it again as there are dog nose smears on all the windows. I'll do it tomorrow. The best thing about tomorrow is that there is always another one. Please start, car, please start. Ah, there is the familiar low grumble of my increasingly rusty chariot of glamour. Yea buddy! We are good. Five minutes late?! How did that take five extra minutes? GAH!
I race to work now, driving like a crazy person. Cussing at all of the geniuses on the round-a-bouts and swearing that I should be the person handing out driver's licenses. In reality, I am probably just as bad a driver though this is the only time I will admit it. I pull in to the spot that has become my regular place and walk quickly to the back to clock-in. Ah, the usual line at the computers. We have about a bazillion people that need to clock-in and only two "all staff" computers that we conveniently get to share with the children. The hardrives run slower than a tortoise on sedatives and it is 8:14. One more minute and I am late! Come on. weemmert...*enter*...wrong user name? What?! weemmert...*enter*...wrong again?! Stupid god forsaken client login company time clo...oh wait. yea that's right. I was typing the wrong user name. Ball sack! It is one 'E', one freaking 'E'! 8:16 AHHHH! one minute late! I am surprised I still have a job, I am always clocking in at 8:16.
Another day starting off stupendously! *sarcasm*
I am prepared to face my day, expecting it to go as well as it started. woohoo. The minutes blur into hours as I rush through my whole morning. There isn't enough time to get my job done. Enough time? Who am I kidding? There is NO time to get my job done. I haven't opened one of my kids' binders to update graphs and check programs for at least 3 weeks. I shudder to think of the amount of data pages that need scanned. Three weeks worth of work and rarely less than five kids to test needs to be done in four hours. Unless I have lunches, then it is 2.5 hours. Fingers crossed that someone else is open to help. No? Ah nuts.
I am racing around the center. Frequently I am forgetting what it was I was doing or who it was I was looking for. Did I remember to take my adderrol? Clearly I need to start investing in extended release. Then it happens. It always comes in different forms. Never at the same time of the day. But always when I need it most. A small but loud voice fills the room in a flurry of strung together sentences that only make sense to those who hear them daily, "Hi, Whitney! How are you today? you are good? There's nothing to see! Oh my gosh, Nemo is swimming out to sea. Buh buh buh ( that would be Blue's voice from Blue's Clues). Did you see the doctor's coat? It's beeeauuutiful". My heart smiles. A warm, filling, bursting, insanely happy, heart smile.
It may not have been a good day but I certainly found my good. Every day it is different. Maybe it is a bright smile or giggle for no reason from a "little". Perhaps it is a huge overwhelming hug from a kiddo that I haven't seen in maybe an hour but they still felt like hugging me anyway. My all time favorite moments are the spontaneous "typical" skills that occur. The ones that we all spend countless periods trying to teach. The ones that we all take for granted like looking someone in the eye to acknowledge they need something, saying a sentence that has more than one word, or turning toward someone when they hear their name. My list goes on and on.
To be honest, my "goods" don't only happen at work but I would be lying if I said those weren't the best kind. My dog's are constantly doing things that make me laugh. Sometimes when a fresh breeze blows through filling my nose with the scent of spring or fall I smile, relishing the calming feeling that comes with it.
Every day is full of small, happy moments that I forget about. Unfortunately, it is easier to focus on the bad things that happen daily. The stress, the amount of work, the lack of time, the drama, the frustrations, the loneliness, the bills, and the relationships. Sometimes I fall asleep at night and wonder what on earth the plan for my life is and if it will forever be a dreary chain of waking, working, and drowning in debt. Destined to spend my days working toward a life and a love that isn't written into my stars. With that kind of thinking it is inevitable that my life will turn out exactly the way I don't want it to.
I spend my spare thinking moments repeating things in my head as reminders that life is what you make it and there is a plan that will wind up going the right way even if it isn't the way that I might see it going. I have decided that in addition to my inspirational thoughts and mirror full of dry erase markered quotes that serve as visual reminders that life is in fact awesome, I will find the good in every day. Even if that day was not good. That one good will turn into two, then three and so on. Eventually the goods will outweigh the bad without me having to consciously search for them at the end of everyday. My heart will smile more, my soul will feel lighter, I will enjoy the little things in life just a bit more, and I won't feel the urge to growl at people on a regular basis (this is something that I have yet to actually do but that doesn't mean I haven't wanted to).
So, today's good...
My little one was full of giggles and happiness today at work. Whatever they were thinking I wish they could have shared. I spent the whole afternoon grinning back and trying to track their eyes, wondering what it could have been that was making them so unbelievably happy and so in love with life at that moment. I am in awe of these fantastic children. They never cease to amaze me!
I wake up every morning and roll out of bed leaving my snuggly furry babies in the warmth of my fuzzy pink blankets. I yawn, stretch and ponder momentarily about crawling back into my cozy nest. I shake the thought away, "You can't spend your life in bed sleeping no matter how amazing it is!" Falling through the doorway to my bathroom I flip on the lights and squint my eyes in disgust at the beams forcing themselves so viciously into my pupils. I hate mornings. I sleepily fumble through my morning ritual; turn on shower, waste time on facebook while the shower warms up, get in shower and wonder why it is socially unacceptable to skip this every day and how much it would really affect others if I just bypassed this silliness. Finish annoying shower step, wash my face, brush my chompers, and sit in the sink (yes I sit in the sink every morning) to do my hair and consider putting on make-up. I opt against it. I am not going to work to find a suitor. My kids don't care if I look like Michelle Pfeiffer's character, Lamia, in the movie Stardust; in the end battle scene.
Yet another day has begun. Ugh.
My poor pups give me sad, sleepy eyes in silent complaint as I gently wake them from their slumber. Once I leave the bed for my "morning torture" they are in heaven and sprawl in every direction in a state of overwhelming comfort. We all walk outside, still only half awake. After our walk they get to go back to sleep for a few more hours in my sister's room so I don't know what they would be complaining about when I wake them.
Time to go to work. I grab my bag and keys and walk out the door, leaving my coffee and breakfast sitting on the counter top. Again. Without fail, I trip down one or two stairs and pause mumbling curses to the cement death trap that is my stairwell. I locate my unbelievably classy '95 Camry and climb in. I need to clean it again as there are dog nose smears on all the windows. I'll do it tomorrow. The best thing about tomorrow is that there is always another one. Please start, car, please start. Ah, there is the familiar low grumble of my increasingly rusty chariot of glamour. Yea buddy! We are good. Five minutes late?! How did that take five extra minutes? GAH!
I race to work now, driving like a crazy person. Cussing at all of the geniuses on the round-a-bouts and swearing that I should be the person handing out driver's licenses. In reality, I am probably just as bad a driver though this is the only time I will admit it. I pull in to the spot that has become my regular place and walk quickly to the back to clock-in. Ah, the usual line at the computers. We have about a bazillion people that need to clock-in and only two "all staff" computers that we conveniently get to share with the children. The hardrives run slower than a tortoise on sedatives and it is 8:14. One more minute and I am late! Come on. weemmert...*enter*...wrong user name? What?! weemmert...*enter*...wrong again?! Stupid god forsaken client login company time clo...oh wait. yea that's right. I was typing the wrong user name. Ball sack! It is one 'E', one freaking 'E'! 8:16 AHHHH! one minute late! I am surprised I still have a job, I am always clocking in at 8:16.
Another day starting off stupendously! *sarcasm*
I am prepared to face my day, expecting it to go as well as it started. woohoo. The minutes blur into hours as I rush through my whole morning. There isn't enough time to get my job done. Enough time? Who am I kidding? There is NO time to get my job done. I haven't opened one of my kids' binders to update graphs and check programs for at least 3 weeks. I shudder to think of the amount of data pages that need scanned. Three weeks worth of work and rarely less than five kids to test needs to be done in four hours. Unless I have lunches, then it is 2.5 hours. Fingers crossed that someone else is open to help. No? Ah nuts.
I am racing around the center. Frequently I am forgetting what it was I was doing or who it was I was looking for. Did I remember to take my adderrol? Clearly I need to start investing in extended release. Then it happens. It always comes in different forms. Never at the same time of the day. But always when I need it most. A small but loud voice fills the room in a flurry of strung together sentences that only make sense to those who hear them daily, "Hi, Whitney! How are you today? you are good? There's nothing to see! Oh my gosh, Nemo is swimming out to sea. Buh buh buh ( that would be Blue's voice from Blue's Clues). Did you see the doctor's coat? It's beeeauuutiful". My heart smiles. A warm, filling, bursting, insanely happy, heart smile.
It may not have been a good day but I certainly found my good. Every day it is different. Maybe it is a bright smile or giggle for no reason from a "little". Perhaps it is a huge overwhelming hug from a kiddo that I haven't seen in maybe an hour but they still felt like hugging me anyway. My all time favorite moments are the spontaneous "typical" skills that occur. The ones that we all spend countless periods trying to teach. The ones that we all take for granted like looking someone in the eye to acknowledge they need something, saying a sentence that has more than one word, or turning toward someone when they hear their name. My list goes on and on.
To be honest, my "goods" don't only happen at work but I would be lying if I said those weren't the best kind. My dog's are constantly doing things that make me laugh. Sometimes when a fresh breeze blows through filling my nose with the scent of spring or fall I smile, relishing the calming feeling that comes with it.
Every day is full of small, happy moments that I forget about. Unfortunately, it is easier to focus on the bad things that happen daily. The stress, the amount of work, the lack of time, the drama, the frustrations, the loneliness, the bills, and the relationships. Sometimes I fall asleep at night and wonder what on earth the plan for my life is and if it will forever be a dreary chain of waking, working, and drowning in debt. Destined to spend my days working toward a life and a love that isn't written into my stars. With that kind of thinking it is inevitable that my life will turn out exactly the way I don't want it to.
I spend my spare thinking moments repeating things in my head as reminders that life is what you make it and there is a plan that will wind up going the right way even if it isn't the way that I might see it going. I have decided that in addition to my inspirational thoughts and mirror full of dry erase markered quotes that serve as visual reminders that life is in fact awesome, I will find the good in every day. Even if that day was not good. That one good will turn into two, then three and so on. Eventually the goods will outweigh the bad without me having to consciously search for them at the end of everyday. My heart will smile more, my soul will feel lighter, I will enjoy the little things in life just a bit more, and I won't feel the urge to growl at people on a regular basis (this is something that I have yet to actually do but that doesn't mean I haven't wanted to).
So, today's good...
My little one was full of giggles and happiness today at work. Whatever they were thinking I wish they could have shared. I spent the whole afternoon grinning back and trying to track their eyes, wondering what it could have been that was making them so unbelievably happy and so in love with life at that moment. I am in awe of these fantastic children. They never cease to amaze me!
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Not like the movies
Not like the movies by Katy Perry...love love love this song
He put it on me, I put it on
Like there was nothing wrong
It didn't fit, it wasn't right
wasn't just the size
They say you know
when you know
I don't know.
I didn't feel
the fairy tale ending, no
Am I a stupid girl
for even dreaming that I could
If it's not like the movies
That's how it should be
When he's the one,
I'll come undone,
and my word will stop spinning
that is just the beginning
Snow white said when I was young
"One day my prince will come"
So i'll wait for that date.
They say it's hard to meet your match
to find your better half
So we make perfect shapes
If stars don't align
if it doesn't stop time
if you can't see the sign
wait for it
one hundred percent
with every penny spent
he'll be the one that
finishes your sentences
if it's not like the movies
That's how it should be
if he's the one
I'll come undone
and my world will stop spinning
and that's just the beginning
Cause I know you're out there
and you're, you're looking for me
It's a crazy idea that you were made
perfectly for me you'll see
just like the movies
Thats how it will be
cinematic and dramatic with the perfect ending
it's not like the movies
but that's how it should be
When he's the one
you'll come undone
and you're world will stop spinning
and it's just the beginning
He put it on me, I put it on
Like there was nothing wrong
It didn't fit, it wasn't right
wasn't just the size
They say you know
when you know
I don't know.
I didn't feel
the fairy tale ending, no
Am I a stupid girl
for even dreaming that I could
If it's not like the movies
That's how it should be
When he's the one,
I'll come undone,
and my word will stop spinning
that is just the beginning
Snow white said when I was young
"One day my prince will come"
So i'll wait for that date.
They say it's hard to meet your match
to find your better half
So we make perfect shapes
If stars don't align
if it doesn't stop time
if you can't see the sign
wait for it
one hundred percent
with every penny spent
he'll be the one that
finishes your sentences
if it's not like the movies
That's how it should be
if he's the one
I'll come undone
and my world will stop spinning
and that's just the beginning
Cause I know you're out there
and you're, you're looking for me
It's a crazy idea that you were made
perfectly for me you'll see
just like the movies
Thats how it will be
cinematic and dramatic with the perfect ending
it's not like the movies
but that's how it should be
When he's the one
you'll come undone
and you're world will stop spinning
and it's just the beginning
Saturday, November 26, 2011
HELP!!
Okay, I am still trying to decide on where I want my new tattoo.
This is what I am getting:
"To know even one life has breathed easier because I have lived, this is to have succeeded."
These are the options that I like...
Input very much welcome!!
This is what I am getting:
"To know even one life has breathed easier because I have lived, this is to have succeeded."
These are the options that I like...
Input very much welcome!!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Betty J Emmert (July 30, 1923-November 6, 2011)
I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning to the end
he noted he first came to her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on this earth.
Now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own:
The cars…the house…the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
Be less quick to anger
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile….
Remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So when your eulogy’s being read
with your life’s actions to rehash
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
-Linda Ellis
Betty Emmert, born on July 30, 1923 passed away this morning November 6, 2011. The 88 year dash that she spent with us was truly amazing. In my 24 years with her I have so many memories of one of my wonderful grandmothers whom my family and I call “Nanny”.
Nanny was always so vibrant and happy. Every time that we would go to see her she would swoop down upon us with hugs and kisses. We loved to visit her house, she, like most people from an older generation, had the coolest things. We loved to play with the rotary phone that hung on the wall. We would dial as many numbers as we could before we were scolded and had to leave it. Spinning the dial to call another phone, how is that even possible? We would go running from the back end of the hallway, down the green carpet that covered half of the hall, and slide as far as we could to the other end. The slippery tile mixed with our socks and the speed of a small child sent us hurling past the bathroom and hall closet where we would come to an abrupt stop, the remaining momentum would either send us into the kitchen or flying into the main entry. Either way we could do that for-ev-er, or at least until we were told to stop. We liked to play in the back rooms of the house either the TV room or the back bedroom. There were various toys in the front closet that we would take to the back where we would spend hours imagining and many times we would just play with the jars of buttons that she had. There were buttons everywhere. We would sort them from big to small, by colors, by shape, design, anything we could think of. I don’t know why but those buttons were quite the time waster.
One of my favorite things to do in the whole world was go over to Nanny’s house and spend the night. Often she would take me to Pizza hut and we would each get a personal pan pizza and eat until we couldn’t eat any more. When we got back to her house I would sit and watch cartoons while she sat at her sewing machine and worked on one of her many projects. I would take breaks to watch her and she would teach me a new sewing trick then I would return to watching TV or to practice whatever it was I had just learned. While in there I snuck butterscotch caramels from the jar on the shelf she would pretend like she didn’t notice, then she would step out and return with grapes, the giant kind, or some other treat that she knew would fill me up. We would both munch on snacks while we chatted about whatever random things that may have been going on in my life. She would tell stories about my dad when he was little or reminisce about what she was doing when she was my age. Then we would sit and watch cartoons together. I would curl up in the rocking chair, her sewing chair, or on her lap and try so desperately to stay awake for as late as I could. When I couldn’t stay awake any longer she would drag me to bed. Her side of the bed was closest to the door and mine next to the window. I would lie there and watch the light from the passing cars on the street while listening to the distant train that used to run through town and talk to her until I fell asleep.
I could fill so much space with the memories that I have of Nanny both from years ago and from recent years. I like to remember the time that I got to spend with her before she moved to the nursing home, where she spent the last years of her life. Not that I don’t have many happy memories of her while she was in the nursing home, just that she was so much happier prior to that. I will miss getting to visit her every Sunday where I would sit with her and read, chat, or many times just watch her sleep. I know that she liked to have the company there while she rested I think that it made her sleep better. I will miss the many jokes that she told; I believe that she is the one from whom we inherited our sarcasm. I will miss a lot of things about her.
I know that in the end she was tired. She asked me almost every time that I visited to take her home or to take her from there because she just wanted to be home where she could rest. We both knew that I couldn’t do that but it didn’t keep her from asking even as her very last words that she spoke to me before she stopped speaking and only gazed at you out of weary eyes. I know that she is where she can rest now. She can spend her days now with her son that she loved so much and often spoke about when she was having trouble remaining with me in the present. She will get to visit us now as our angel. To watch over us and keep us safe just like she did when she was here. While her body has left us her dash has imprinted us all to last an eternity. I know that one day I will get to see her again where she and my papaw and grandpa and loved ones past will get to fill me in on the miracles that are heaven. I hope that they have butterscotch caramels.
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning to the end
he noted he first came to her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on this earth.
Now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own:
The cars…the house…the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
Be less quick to anger
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile….
Remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So when your eulogy’s being read
with your life’s actions to rehash
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
-Linda Ellis
Betty Emmert, born on July 30, 1923 passed away this morning November 6, 2011. The 88 year dash that she spent with us was truly amazing. In my 24 years with her I have so many memories of one of my wonderful grandmothers whom my family and I call “Nanny”.
Nanny was always so vibrant and happy. Every time that we would go to see her she would swoop down upon us with hugs and kisses. We loved to visit her house, she, like most people from an older generation, had the coolest things. We loved to play with the rotary phone that hung on the wall. We would dial as many numbers as we could before we were scolded and had to leave it. Spinning the dial to call another phone, how is that even possible? We would go running from the back end of the hallway, down the green carpet that covered half of the hall, and slide as far as we could to the other end. The slippery tile mixed with our socks and the speed of a small child sent us hurling past the bathroom and hall closet where we would come to an abrupt stop, the remaining momentum would either send us into the kitchen or flying into the main entry. Either way we could do that for-ev-er, or at least until we were told to stop. We liked to play in the back rooms of the house either the TV room or the back bedroom. There were various toys in the front closet that we would take to the back where we would spend hours imagining and many times we would just play with the jars of buttons that she had. There were buttons everywhere. We would sort them from big to small, by colors, by shape, design, anything we could think of. I don’t know why but those buttons were quite the time waster.
One of my favorite things to do in the whole world was go over to Nanny’s house and spend the night. Often she would take me to Pizza hut and we would each get a personal pan pizza and eat until we couldn’t eat any more. When we got back to her house I would sit and watch cartoons while she sat at her sewing machine and worked on one of her many projects. I would take breaks to watch her and she would teach me a new sewing trick then I would return to watching TV or to practice whatever it was I had just learned. While in there I snuck butterscotch caramels from the jar on the shelf she would pretend like she didn’t notice, then she would step out and return with grapes, the giant kind, or some other treat that she knew would fill me up. We would both munch on snacks while we chatted about whatever random things that may have been going on in my life. She would tell stories about my dad when he was little or reminisce about what she was doing when she was my age. Then we would sit and watch cartoons together. I would curl up in the rocking chair, her sewing chair, or on her lap and try so desperately to stay awake for as late as I could. When I couldn’t stay awake any longer she would drag me to bed. Her side of the bed was closest to the door and mine next to the window. I would lie there and watch the light from the passing cars on the street while listening to the distant train that used to run through town and talk to her until I fell asleep.
I could fill so much space with the memories that I have of Nanny both from years ago and from recent years. I like to remember the time that I got to spend with her before she moved to the nursing home, where she spent the last years of her life. Not that I don’t have many happy memories of her while she was in the nursing home, just that she was so much happier prior to that. I will miss getting to visit her every Sunday where I would sit with her and read, chat, or many times just watch her sleep. I know that she liked to have the company there while she rested I think that it made her sleep better. I will miss the many jokes that she told; I believe that she is the one from whom we inherited our sarcasm. I will miss a lot of things about her.
I know that in the end she was tired. She asked me almost every time that I visited to take her home or to take her from there because she just wanted to be home where she could rest. We both knew that I couldn’t do that but it didn’t keep her from asking even as her very last words that she spoke to me before she stopped speaking and only gazed at you out of weary eyes. I know that she is where she can rest now. She can spend her days now with her son that she loved so much and often spoke about when she was having trouble remaining with me in the present. She will get to visit us now as our angel. To watch over us and keep us safe just like she did when she was here. While her body has left us her dash has imprinted us all to last an eternity. I know that one day I will get to see her again where she and my papaw and grandpa and loved ones past will get to fill me in on the miracles that are heaven. I hope that they have butterscotch caramels.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
14 years was not enough...
One Christmas morning, almost 14 years ago, I awoke to my brother whispering in my ear at 3:00 in the morning, "Whitney. Psssst Whitney, wake up. I hear something in the bathroom. Whitney, come on!" As I shook away my sleep, I quickly realized that it was Christmas morning. He must be hearing Santa! In the bathroom? Whatever, IT'S CHRISTMAS! I bounded from my bed and my brother and I scurried quickly to the other side of the house, peered into the laundry room and pressed our ears to the silence. I heard it! I looked at my brother, we had just heard the noise at the same time, with smiles on our faces we tip-toed to the bathroom. The light seeped out from under the sliding door. What could it be? We both laid on our bellies and tried to peer through the crack. Nothing. There was another noise. A small squeak. Too small to come from someone of Santa's size but too big to be a mouse. You know the story, maybe the mouse in ours had been stirring while we all dreamt of sugarplums.
What could it be? We laid on our bellies with our ears as close to the crack as we could get them and waited for the noise to come again. It did. "It's a bird!" loudly whispered my brother. "No way", I replied, "It doesn't sound like a bird at all". Our whispering disturbed whatever was behind the door as it came to the crack and blocked out the light. "Birds don't have paws", I thought to myself. "Mew" came from the little black shadow on the other side of the door, "Mew". "It's a KITTEN!!", I yelled. "A kitten, a kitten, A KITTEN!!!!". I jumped around and danced in a circle. I had been wanting a kitten for so long and my parents told me no. There is no way that this could be happening!
Since it was close to 4 in the morning by now surely our parents would be okay with waking up and letting me see what it was in the bathroom, just to be certain. We tip-toed at full speed to my parents room and stood in their faces silently staring at them to wake up. My brother on my dad's side and I by my mother's. How creepy small children can be. They both woke up with a gasp as if we had just blared an airhorn in the room to wake them at the same time. We didn't but apparently the feeling of being stared at is enough to wake a person up and then upon the realization that you are in fact being stared at is enough to make a person gasp and jump. "It's Christmas" I whispered after taking a step back from my mother's nose, "There is a kitten in the bathroom and I want it out".
"There is no kitten in the bathroom", my father said, "go back to bed"
"There is. I heard it.", I was hopping and flapping excitedly now, "I heard it, I heard it".
"There is nothing in the bathroom. I don't know what you are talking about. What time is it?"
When we told him the time we were both promptly instructed to return to our beds and we could open the presents at 6 in the morning. And to stay away from the "nothing" in the bathroom. Ugh 2 more hours. Of course, we didn't go to bed. My brother went to count presents for the next two hours and I went to lay on my belly next to the bathroom door and listen to "nothing" squeak and pitter patter around.
At one minute to 6 my brother came to get me and we both high-tailed it to our parents bedroom. This time we were holding nothing back as we woke them up as a normal child would on christmas morning. We then dragged the remainder of our siblings from their sleep and frolicked to our respective places in the family room in front of the tree, hopping up and down in our seats as if we were on some sort of spring.
My mother came out smiling groggily in her house coat and my dad followed, also smiling but mostly laughing at how overly excited we were. On a normal day you couldn't get us out of bed with a fork lift but today we were hopping around like bunnies after being up for 3 hours already. The present unwrapping began. I tore off paper and hurled my gifts to the side, the faster I got done with these presents the faster I could see that "nothing". The last of the paper came off and I looked around. Done. My dad smiled and said something but my excited brain wouldn't allow me to hear him. He walked into the laundry room and then back out. the small nothing in his arms was a teeny tiny black kitten.
"A CAT!" I screamed and lept from my spring loaded spot. He put her in my arms and I squeezed her and gave her kisses and nuzzled her face. She was terrified. That little kitten was everything I had wanted. I decided to name her "Zip" after the black beanie baby cat, it was my favorite.
That was almost 14 years ago. Zip was such a great cat. As the years went by there were many things that she did that would qualify her as the best cat in the world. When she was itty bitty she used to hide in the holes under the cabinets. She would sit under there and put her little paws out or maybe just her nose and watch as we all moved about the house trying to find out where she was. Or when she would jump up into the holes that were under the high cabinets and drop just her tail down while she sat on the ledge that was inside. Sometimes she would hide under the bed and swat at our toes as we stood nearby. If there was a closed door and she wanted inside, she would stick her paws under the door and swat and meow until she was let through. She loved to be outside and would attempt to escape if there was ever a door open for more than 5 seconds, only to lay in the grass. She loved to sleep in the bed with us and her favorite spot, until she was too big, was right on top of someone's neck so that she could stay nice and warm. She would always sit by the stairs when she was hungry to alert us to the fact that she was in need of food. She loved to snuggle and would climb up onto me while I was sitting and nuzzle her nose into my neck to keep her little nose toasty. She purred any time that someone would hold her (until she got older, then she only liked the family). She was always there to give love, even when we didn't realize that we wanted or even needed it. She was the sweetest cat you could ever meet.
Today I had to say goodbye to my precious baby Zip. I will miss seeing her when I go to visit my momma. And I will miss her stretching her paws up my leg so that I would pick her up. I will miss her little meow asking to go sit on the porch for hours and enjoy the fresh air. I will miss everything about her. I know that she isn't in pain anymore and that she will be much happier now. She has all of the mice and bugs that she could ever imagine chasing up where she is now. I know that she will always watch over us. she has left her mark on our hearts and she will be forever loved.
Rest in peace now my pretty little girl. Mommy and your family love you!
"ZIP" November 1997-October 23, 2011
What could it be? We laid on our bellies with our ears as close to the crack as we could get them and waited for the noise to come again. It did. "It's a bird!" loudly whispered my brother. "No way", I replied, "It doesn't sound like a bird at all". Our whispering disturbed whatever was behind the door as it came to the crack and blocked out the light. "Birds don't have paws", I thought to myself. "Mew" came from the little black shadow on the other side of the door, "Mew". "It's a KITTEN!!", I yelled. "A kitten, a kitten, A KITTEN!!!!". I jumped around and danced in a circle. I had been wanting a kitten for so long and my parents told me no. There is no way that this could be happening!
Since it was close to 4 in the morning by now surely our parents would be okay with waking up and letting me see what it was in the bathroom, just to be certain. We tip-toed at full speed to my parents room and stood in their faces silently staring at them to wake up. My brother on my dad's side and I by my mother's. How creepy small children can be. They both woke up with a gasp as if we had just blared an airhorn in the room to wake them at the same time. We didn't but apparently the feeling of being stared at is enough to wake a person up and then upon the realization that you are in fact being stared at is enough to make a person gasp and jump. "It's Christmas" I whispered after taking a step back from my mother's nose, "There is a kitten in the bathroom and I want it out".
"There is no kitten in the bathroom", my father said, "go back to bed"
"There is. I heard it.", I was hopping and flapping excitedly now, "I heard it, I heard it".
"There is nothing in the bathroom. I don't know what you are talking about. What time is it?"
When we told him the time we were both promptly instructed to return to our beds and we could open the presents at 6 in the morning. And to stay away from the "nothing" in the bathroom. Ugh 2 more hours. Of course, we didn't go to bed. My brother went to count presents for the next two hours and I went to lay on my belly next to the bathroom door and listen to "nothing" squeak and pitter patter around.
At one minute to 6 my brother came to get me and we both high-tailed it to our parents bedroom. This time we were holding nothing back as we woke them up as a normal child would on christmas morning. We then dragged the remainder of our siblings from their sleep and frolicked to our respective places in the family room in front of the tree, hopping up and down in our seats as if we were on some sort of spring.
My mother came out smiling groggily in her house coat and my dad followed, also smiling but mostly laughing at how overly excited we were. On a normal day you couldn't get us out of bed with a fork lift but today we were hopping around like bunnies after being up for 3 hours already. The present unwrapping began. I tore off paper and hurled my gifts to the side, the faster I got done with these presents the faster I could see that "nothing". The last of the paper came off and I looked around. Done. My dad smiled and said something but my excited brain wouldn't allow me to hear him. He walked into the laundry room and then back out. the small nothing in his arms was a teeny tiny black kitten.
"A CAT!" I screamed and lept from my spring loaded spot. He put her in my arms and I squeezed her and gave her kisses and nuzzled her face. She was terrified. That little kitten was everything I had wanted. I decided to name her "Zip" after the black beanie baby cat, it was my favorite.
That was almost 14 years ago. Zip was such a great cat. As the years went by there were many things that she did that would qualify her as the best cat in the world. When she was itty bitty she used to hide in the holes under the cabinets. She would sit under there and put her little paws out or maybe just her nose and watch as we all moved about the house trying to find out where she was. Or when she would jump up into the holes that were under the high cabinets and drop just her tail down while she sat on the ledge that was inside. Sometimes she would hide under the bed and swat at our toes as we stood nearby. If there was a closed door and she wanted inside, she would stick her paws under the door and swat and meow until she was let through. She loved to be outside and would attempt to escape if there was ever a door open for more than 5 seconds, only to lay in the grass. She loved to sleep in the bed with us and her favorite spot, until she was too big, was right on top of someone's neck so that she could stay nice and warm. She would always sit by the stairs when she was hungry to alert us to the fact that she was in need of food. She loved to snuggle and would climb up onto me while I was sitting and nuzzle her nose into my neck to keep her little nose toasty. She purred any time that someone would hold her (until she got older, then she only liked the family). She was always there to give love, even when we didn't realize that we wanted or even needed it. She was the sweetest cat you could ever meet.
Today I had to say goodbye to my precious baby Zip. I will miss seeing her when I go to visit my momma. And I will miss her stretching her paws up my leg so that I would pick her up. I will miss her little meow asking to go sit on the porch for hours and enjoy the fresh air. I will miss everything about her. I know that she isn't in pain anymore and that she will be much happier now. She has all of the mice and bugs that she could ever imagine chasing up where she is now. I know that she will always watch over us. she has left her mark on our hearts and she will be forever loved.
Rest in peace now my pretty little girl. Mommy and your family love you!
"ZIP" November 1997-October 23, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Dear 17 year old me,
I wandered through the car lot the other day, bright eyed and bushy tailed, eager to find the car that I would call my own. As I skipped through the shiny vehicles the reality of the monetary world slowly edged itself into my thoughts. Aggressively I pushed it out of my head by driving said shiny vehicles and trying out all of their buttons with my mom and sister. The slick, lovely smelling, car salesman didn't make it easier while he gently persuaded the three of us to "check out a few more. You are more than welcome to drive any one that you want! I'll go get them if you'd like". "Yes, please. I'll try that one", was my repeated reply. When I hopped into the gorgeous black, Chevrolet Equinox my heart skipped a beat. The chair hugged my back perfectly and the steering wheel felt like silk in my hands. It drove like a dream, smoothly taking the curves, gracefully coming to a stop, it even had a child lock button on the drive panel, A BUTTON! My comment to dear Jeffy the salesman upon our return consisted of three simple words, "I'm in love".
The following ten minutes were some of the most depressing I have had in quite some time. A blur of pages flew by my face engulfed in a swirl of numbers that were too large to be accepted in the common world from which I hail. I sullenly looked at the now less slick but still as lovely smelling salesman as the realization hit us both at the same time, this was a deal that would not take place. Sadly we all stood, shook hands, and left the lot without the car that I fell in love with so quickly.
Reflecting on my recent heartbreak I pondered ways that I could repair the empty hole in my thumper. Clearly the answer is a brand new car. Forget the rest of the hullabaloo that constantly harasses my brain. My other bills and extreme amounts of student loan debts that still needed paid meant nothing to me. UGH, if only I could just skip them and buy a car! My next thought was more realistic, time travel. Obviously I just needed to write a letter to my 17 year old self to explain to her the situation and then travel it back to her. Excellent.
The letter is as follows:
Dear 17 year old Whitney,
Wake UP! This is your 24 year old future self writing, listen carefully. Your future happiness rests on you comprehending this letter.
First, I am going to need you to get back into the habit of not wearing pajamas everywhere, including to school. Yes, it's comfy. Yes, school is early and you still want to sleep. However, you have a hard time kicking the habit later in life.
Now, your job. The cleaners is a lovely place to work, if you would work more hours. Stop giving your shifts away! Who cares if you have to open? Nobody comes in until 10 anyway, you know you can sleep in the back until then. At least until Dawn gets a camera installed but that isn't for a while. Better yet, get another job. What better things do you have to do? You are in high school you don't need to sit in Starbucks on a daily basis and talk about the same thing that you did the day before.
SAVE YOUR FLIPPING MONEY! This will help you when you become me. As luck would have it, your poor spending and saving habits carried over and turned into mine. At 24 you will have tens of thousands of dollars in school debt and still no savings. If you start I will have to continue.
On a similar note, this ridiculous college money thing. Try convincing your parents to divorce before your sophomore year in college. Oh yeah, the rents get divorced. You know you have seen it coming. If you can get them to do this it will do two things. 1) hopefully keep them from despising the thought of each other in the future and 2) mom claims you, so the government will pay for college. Thus, avoiding the loan money you have to pay back afterward. You will be a step ahead of the game that I am in now.
Oh yea, college, instead of going through the shenanigans of picking a major and then changing your major I will just tell you what to study. At 24 you work at an ABA center in carmel. You love it. Study it. DO IT! It will save some wasted time.
Now, for the reason I traveled back in time to give this to you. The Chevrolet Equinox. You will love this car. When it comes time for a new car in the fall of 2011 this is the one that you want. Following all of the guidelines that I have given you will get you this car. Understood?
The rest of my advice? Enjoy high school but remember it is just high school. Nobody gives a flying rat's patootie about it later in life. I know it's hard to comprehend but it's true. Go to the Friday night football games like you are though, those are the best. In college, really enjoy it. It goes by waaaaay too fast. You blink and you are old. People actually do care about their friend's they had in college after they graduate soooo you are free to actually care while you are there.
Much Love,
Whitney/you/me/......well you know.
P.S. Chevy Equinox. That is all.
The following ten minutes were some of the most depressing I have had in quite some time. A blur of pages flew by my face engulfed in a swirl of numbers that were too large to be accepted in the common world from which I hail. I sullenly looked at the now less slick but still as lovely smelling salesman as the realization hit us both at the same time, this was a deal that would not take place. Sadly we all stood, shook hands, and left the lot without the car that I fell in love with so quickly.
Reflecting on my recent heartbreak I pondered ways that I could repair the empty hole in my thumper. Clearly the answer is a brand new car. Forget the rest of the hullabaloo that constantly harasses my brain. My other bills and extreme amounts of student loan debts that still needed paid meant nothing to me. UGH, if only I could just skip them and buy a car! My next thought was more realistic, time travel. Obviously I just needed to write a letter to my 17 year old self to explain to her the situation and then travel it back to her. Excellent.
The letter is as follows:
Dear 17 year old Whitney,
Wake UP! This is your 24 year old future self writing, listen carefully. Your future happiness rests on you comprehending this letter.
First, I am going to need you to get back into the habit of not wearing pajamas everywhere, including to school. Yes, it's comfy. Yes, school is early and you still want to sleep. However, you have a hard time kicking the habit later in life.
Now, your job. The cleaners is a lovely place to work, if you would work more hours. Stop giving your shifts away! Who cares if you have to open? Nobody comes in until 10 anyway, you know you can sleep in the back until then. At least until Dawn gets a camera installed but that isn't for a while. Better yet, get another job. What better things do you have to do? You are in high school you don't need to sit in Starbucks on a daily basis and talk about the same thing that you did the day before.
SAVE YOUR FLIPPING MONEY! This will help you when you become me. As luck would have it, your poor spending and saving habits carried over and turned into mine. At 24 you will have tens of thousands of dollars in school debt and still no savings. If you start I will have to continue.
On a similar note, this ridiculous college money thing. Try convincing your parents to divorce before your sophomore year in college. Oh yeah, the rents get divorced. You know you have seen it coming. If you can get them to do this it will do two things. 1) hopefully keep them from despising the thought of each other in the future and 2) mom claims you, so the government will pay for college. Thus, avoiding the loan money you have to pay back afterward. You will be a step ahead of the game that I am in now.
Oh yea, college, instead of going through the shenanigans of picking a major and then changing your major I will just tell you what to study. At 24 you work at an ABA center in carmel. You love it. Study it. DO IT! It will save some wasted time.
Now, for the reason I traveled back in time to give this to you. The Chevrolet Equinox. You will love this car. When it comes time for a new car in the fall of 2011 this is the one that you want. Following all of the guidelines that I have given you will get you this car. Understood?
The rest of my advice? Enjoy high school but remember it is just high school. Nobody gives a flying rat's patootie about it later in life. I know it's hard to comprehend but it's true. Go to the Friday night football games like you are though, those are the best. In college, really enjoy it. It goes by waaaaay too fast. You blink and you are old. People actually do care about their friend's they had in college after they graduate soooo you are free to actually care while you are there.
Much Love,
Whitney/you/me/......well you know.
P.S. Chevy Equinox. That is all.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Picking pics...
The license plates from left to right are: Indiana '32, California '87 (for my birth year :D), Iowa '75, Missouri '78, and Indiana '54....we still need a '90 (for Shelby's Birth year), one from the 60's, 40's, 20's, and the 1900's. So if anyone catches any let me know!
Above the cali plate is a pair of 1914 black men's rollerskates made by Chicago Rollerskate Company Ware Bros. The CRCWB was founded in 1905 by Walter Ware and became the world's leading rollerskate manufacturer. This particular style was patented in 1914 however as to the exact year of this pair I am not completely sure.
In the middle of the ledge are a birdcage, a motorcycle, a boot, an Eiffel tower replica, another birdcage, and a fire hat.
The Fire helmet is a 1960's Bullard Helmet. Founded in 1898 the Bullard Company produced personal protective equipment. They produced the first "hard-boiled" hat in 1919 for miners. For this hat they took the image of the WWI army helmet and modified it to the needs of the mining community. The company produced it's first fire helmet in 1930 following their development of the first hard hat. "In 1947 they created the first fiberglass helmet, the first NFPA-approved helmet in 1983, and the first ratchet headband used in 1987." I think that this hat is a 1960's version but there is a good chance that I am wrong. The patented 3 ribbed dome was created in 1940s out of fiberglass and changed to thermoplastics in the 50's and 60's. I have no idea the difference between the two materials so I may have dated it incorrectly!
Here is my 1955 World Book encyclopedia set. Pretty much speaks for itself but here is some history if you like. The first edition of World Book was published in 1917 and contained 8 volumes. New editions have appeared every year except 1920, 1924, and 1932. In 1961, World Book published a braille edition wich consisted of 145 volumes totaling 40,000 pages. 1964 it published a large print edition, in 1990 it published the first electronic edition, the first international version was published in 1992, and beginning in 1998 World Book has produced an online version containing articles and contents of every world book that has been published since 1922.
Lastly, is a "Drink Coca-cola delicious and refreshing" tray from 1912. Brief run-down of coca-cola: first sold in 1886 it went through a lot of legal hullabaloo until 1914. Records of the legal background of the company were burned on purpose by the owner Asa Griggs Chandler in 1910 to ensure that it would remain in his possession. This action made more sense when 1914 rolled around and the original owners came forward with the statement that their signatures had been forged on the bill of sale. Coke changed its formula to "New Coke" in April 1985 and after much backlash returned to a variation of its old formula in July 1985 calling it "Coca-cola Classic". By 2011 "Classic" had been removed from all coke products since there was no longer a need to differentiate between the classic formula and the now nonexistent "New Coke".
Phew, that was a lot of information!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Picking
If I could do one thing in life and make a living from it I would choose "picking". Oh my word how much fun. My only problem would be that I would keep all of it instead of reselling it. I went antiquing today with my sister and I wish I had the money to buy everything I saw. We are decorating our apartment and the theme is old and new with randomness all over. I love it. Today we bought 3 license plates (+1 purchased earlier=4), a full 1955 world book encyclopedia, and a 1960s Bullard fire helmet.
what I wanted:
a 20th century Stereoscope with pictures
a set of books from 1880
a 1930s catchers mit and baseball jersey
a 1930s/40s football
wwII Naval uniform
early 20th century children's lace up shoes
and just about everything else in the shop....
I have a lot of saving to do!
what I wanted:
a 20th century Stereoscope with pictures
a set of books from 1880
a 1930s catchers mit and baseball jersey
a 1930s/40s football
wwII Naval uniform
early 20th century children's lace up shoes
and just about everything else in the shop....
I have a lot of saving to do!
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Happy Living!
Being a History major from Purdue, I love just about everything old. Old pictures, old decorations, old clothing, the smell of old books. A while back I bought a few old books from a thrift store, "The Fun Encyclopedia" (no date but I am guessing 60's), "The Green Years" by AJ Cronin 1945, and "Happy Living! A Guidebook for Brides" by Evelyn Enright 1965. Now, while waiting for my dogs to finish eating so we can go paint furniture I cracked open the happy living book. According to this, I am not living very happily.
The book is arranged by different aspects of the "good homemaker" ideal of the 50's and 60's. How to color coordinate (these pictures of the color schemes are fantastic by the way), how to cook, how to be a good hostess, how to clean, how to make sure that your man is happy all the time and yadda yadda yadda. I am not even going to lie, I am so very entertained. Come to find out the book says I have beginner's dilemma, therefore, if I don't fix it I have no hope for a domestic future! Curses.
I didn't even realize that my breakfast needs to be able to "please a hearty male appetite" and get me to the office at the same time! What have I been doing with my life? I have been curious as to why my life isn't gratifying enough at the moment. I thought that it had to do with the fact that I have so many bills to pay and still would like to attend grad school. Nope! It is because my "career" of "creating and maintaining a livable home" with my "instinct for domesticity" hasn't been honed yet. Aha! I knew something was missing. That has got to be it.
Something tells me that I would not have done well back in the day. Not as well as I would like to think I would have done anyway.
Off to refinish furniture. I guess I have to change my color scheme to teal, mustard yellow, cream, and green....
The book is arranged by different aspects of the "good homemaker" ideal of the 50's and 60's. How to color coordinate (these pictures of the color schemes are fantastic by the way), how to cook, how to be a good hostess, how to clean, how to make sure that your man is happy all the time and yadda yadda yadda. I am not even going to lie, I am so very entertained. Come to find out the book says I have beginner's dilemma, therefore, if I don't fix it I have no hope for a domestic future! Curses.
I didn't even realize that my breakfast needs to be able to "please a hearty male appetite" and get me to the office at the same time! What have I been doing with my life? I have been curious as to why my life isn't gratifying enough at the moment. I thought that it had to do with the fact that I have so many bills to pay and still would like to attend grad school. Nope! It is because my "career" of "creating and maintaining a livable home" with my "instinct for domesticity" hasn't been honed yet. Aha! I knew something was missing. That has got to be it.
Something tells me that I would not have done well back in the day. Not as well as I would like to think I would have done anyway.
Off to refinish furniture. I guess I have to change my color scheme to teal, mustard yellow, cream, and green....
Monday, August 15, 2011
oh my kiddos...
Some of my favorite quotes from kiddos at my old job...
17.
Me: "How hot do you think the sun is?"
Student: "I think it is a million flaming cheetos hot"
16.
"Yes, he can hold his breath underwater forever-(pause thinking)-just like a kitty cat!"
15.
"I'm drawing tough guys with pants on."
14.
"Ms Whitney, can I flip off the lights?"
-he waits a moment for an answer and then flips his middle finger to the lights
"Look! see! I'm flipping off the lights!"
13.
"'Hot' means you're a piece of meat."
12.
Student overhears talk on the walkie
Student: "Did someone say beating?"
Me: "No. Meeting."
Student: "Teachers are beating other teachers?"
Me: "No. MEETING."
Student: "Somebody is bleeding?!?!"
11.
Student 1: "You're a mouse in a rat maze"
Student 2: "Well you're a turd in a shit maze"
10.
"HAHA, I farted when I did that"
9.
Student 1: "I'm rubber, you're glue. Whatever you say to me bounces off me and sticks to you!"
Student 2: "Oh yeah? I'm rubber. You're an idiot"
8.
Reader : "Name the triangle"
Student: "Steve"
7.
"Ms Whitney, my penis itches."
6.
"Oh the pain! The deep fried pain!"
5.
"Dancing is the Devil's hell"
4.
Student: "This is our epic battle, Ms Whitney. You see, this is me in the red cape, like
superman. This is you."
Me: "Where?"
Student: "Right there. I drew you as the wicked witch of the west."
3.
"When I am in charge I am going to turn this whole place into antarctica. Then I am going to feed you to a polar bear."
2.
"Off with your head!"
1..........
"Bye, I hope you die tonight!"
Oh there are many more, but that is all I can think of right now :D
17.
Me: "How hot do you think the sun is?"
Student: "I think it is a million flaming cheetos hot"
16.
"Yes, he can hold his breath underwater forever-(pause thinking)-just like a kitty cat!"
15.
"I'm drawing tough guys with pants on."
14.
"Ms Whitney, can I flip off the lights?"
-he waits a moment for an answer and then flips his middle finger to the lights
"Look! see! I'm flipping off the lights!"
13.
"'Hot' means you're a piece of meat."
12.
Student overhears talk on the walkie
Student: "Did someone say beating?"
Me: "No. Meeting."
Student: "Teachers are beating other teachers?"
Me: "No. MEETING."
Student: "Somebody is bleeding?!?!"
11.
Student 1: "You're a mouse in a rat maze"
Student 2: "Well you're a turd in a shit maze"
10.
"HAHA, I farted when I did that"
9.
Student 1: "I'm rubber, you're glue. Whatever you say to me bounces off me and sticks to you!"
Student 2: "Oh yeah? I'm rubber. You're an idiot"
8.
Reader : "Name the triangle"
Student: "Steve"
7.
"Ms Whitney, my penis itches."
6.
"Oh the pain! The deep fried pain!"
5.
"Dancing is the Devil's hell"
4.
Student: "This is our epic battle, Ms Whitney. You see, this is me in the red cape, like
superman. This is you."
Me: "Where?"
Student: "Right there. I drew you as the wicked witch of the west."
3.
"When I am in charge I am going to turn this whole place into antarctica. Then I am going to feed you to a polar bear."
2.
"Off with your head!"
1..........
"Bye, I hope you die tonight!"
Oh there are many more, but that is all I can think of right now :D
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Mini Superhero
Blonde haired, blue eyed, tornado on two feet
smartest, quickest, loudest boy you ever will meet
He'd charm you with his smile
That made him look oh so sweet
But little did you know, he would knock you to your knees
He sang, "There's two, there's four, there's six, there's eight."
played superman and watched his trains.
As Fireman Sam that boy stood so tall
A mini superhero for us all.
Give him an audience and he would preach.
When he grows up he says he wants to teach.
With fire in his eyes and rockets on his feet
He charms his way in to the hearts of all he meets.
He flaps, he spins, he jumps, he leaps
without his shoes upon his feet
dressed up years beyond his age
"81! I AM!", he would always say.
To my side he would rush all 60 of his pounds
At 12 years old he would never back down
The path ahead appears so rough
undaunted with that sight he runs.
Forward only never back
A mini superhero who helped forge my path.
Without these two the world would appear so dim.
Two treasures given by the greatest HIM
blessed with a gift the rest of us will lack
to move forward always without looking back.
For their future is ours as they run and play
linking us for always, each life they have saved
looking through their eyes you could clearly see
that superheroes, even ones so small
do not need capes to save us all.
I wrote this with two of my many "mini superheroes" in mind. If I didn't have them I would still be trudging through a muddy life with no clear path and no end in sight.
smartest, quickest, loudest boy you ever will meet
He'd charm you with his smile
That made him look oh so sweet
But little did you know, he would knock you to your knees
He sang, "There's two, there's four, there's six, there's eight."
played superman and watched his trains.
As Fireman Sam that boy stood so tall
A mini superhero for us all.
Give him an audience and he would preach.
When he grows up he says he wants to teach.
With fire in his eyes and rockets on his feet
He charms his way in to the hearts of all he meets.
He flaps, he spins, he jumps, he leaps
without his shoes upon his feet
dressed up years beyond his age
"81! I AM!", he would always say.
To my side he would rush all 60 of his pounds
At 12 years old he would never back down
The path ahead appears so rough
undaunted with that sight he runs.
Forward only never back
A mini superhero who helped forge my path.
Without these two the world would appear so dim.
Two treasures given by the greatest HIM
blessed with a gift the rest of us will lack
to move forward always without looking back.
For their future is ours as they run and play
linking us for always, each life they have saved
looking through their eyes you could clearly see
that superheroes, even ones so small
do not need capes to save us all.
I wrote this with two of my many "mini superheroes" in mind. If I didn't have them I would still be trudging through a muddy life with no clear path and no end in sight.
One Day
What better place than here to put my feelings? Let's not take things too seriously now...
One Day
When will this feeling disappear?
I hate my life
I miss old friends
I wish my past didn't end
Now the path is all anew.
Looking back I wish I knew
Where all these journeys came to play
that got me where I am today.
Without the sight of here and now
I wouldn't regret the life I've found.
Relationships that flew astray
a future now has blown away.
Where to turn, where do I go?
an ocean full of ebb and flow.
one step forward, two steps back
I turn around and stumble.
Circles I've gone, dead ends I've hit.
Could all of this really be it?
What is living without a smile
Mine, I've lost for quite a while.
Each year that passes I turn around
and look behind me as the new bares down.
I hold on tight and dig in my heels
If only I had foreseen how this would feel.
My choices would have differed
my feet would not have faltered
I might be where I planned before
now I float far from that shore.
Onward now to face this road.
along it lie the things untold.
without it I would float away
if only I could. If only. One day.
One Day
When will this feeling disappear?
I hate my life
I miss old friends
I wish my past didn't end
Now the path is all anew.
Looking back I wish I knew
Where all these journeys came to play
that got me where I am today.
Without the sight of here and now
I wouldn't regret the life I've found.
Relationships that flew astray
a future now has blown away.
Where to turn, where do I go?
an ocean full of ebb and flow.
one step forward, two steps back
I turn around and stumble.
Circles I've gone, dead ends I've hit.
Could all of this really be it?
What is living without a smile
Mine, I've lost for quite a while.
Each year that passes I turn around
and look behind me as the new bares down.
I hold on tight and dig in my heels
If only I had foreseen how this would feel.
My choices would have differed
my feet would not have faltered
I might be where I planned before
now I float far from that shore.
Onward now to face this road.
along it lie the things untold.
without it I would float away
if only I could. If only. One day.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Bye, I hope you die tonight
One afternoon, at my old job with an alternative school, I was walking a student to the bus. He was so mad, because another teacher would not agree that he was better than everyone in the entire world (no joke), that he stomped his way out the door with me at his side. I hopped, spun, frolicked and skipped, trying everything I could to cheer him up before putting him onto the bus. Nothing worked.
We finally get to his bus, the last in the row, and he was still grumbling. I stood on the sidewalk while he stepped up the stairs. I saw a look in his eye and a flap in his hands that told me he was going to say something unkind in a very loud manner to the bus driver. So, in an effort to prevent yet another outburst on the bus I yelled to him in an overly cheery tone, "Bye, I hope you have a great night!". From the second step he stopped and turned to me; with a half smirk half glare he yelled back, "Bye, I hope you die tonight!". He turned back and boarded the bus. Quietly. I buckled in laughter as this one phrase perfectly described how outrageously fantastic this student was, how much he brightened my heart and taught me how to laugh at almost everything.
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