Lessons Learned in 2013

I've never been big into the whole New Year's resolutions thing. The main reason is that I can never keep these resolutions past New Years Day. Quit drinking? Yup, that lasts until about 8pm. Work out every day? Uh huh... except that, Jan 1 I'm just too tired after having stayed up pretty late...

So, instead of writing resolutions, I started writing the lessons I learned in the last year. This year, while I did write some blogging goals, I'm going to stick with my no-resolution tradition. Maybe. I guess I did break that tradition last year...

But... for now...

The Lessons Learned in 2013:

1. Children have hard heads...

2. When said hard head meet mama's face... bad things happen...

3. Three teeth pushed to where they're pointing to the back of your throat? Yup... that really really hurts!

4. Sitting through 8 hours of softball tournaments while hopped up on Vicodin due to 3 rearranged teeth... well... I can't really remember if that's a horrible thing or not...

5. When basketballs meet mama's head... bad things happen...

6. Yeah, I still don't like concussions. Who would have thought a basketball could do that to a person?

7. ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS check the expiration date before eating frozen chicken dinners.

8. Food poisoning sucks. I mean, really really sucks.

9. Ringing in the new year making snow angels in the yard once again proved to be a wonderful way to start the new year (and will be done again tonight I hope!).

10. Saying goodbye to a dear friend is one of the hardest things to do.

11. I am so incredibly blessed to still have this friend in my life, especially considering all my attempts at sabotaging the friendship.While some of what I've learned through this friendship is in this list, there is no way I could write all the lessons I've learned from it.

12. I can be a real manipulative bitch.

13. I truly appreciate those people who will tell me I'm being stupid... the ones who will give me the "Gibb's slap"... but still stand beside me. All my best friends have been and are this way.

14. Bible study can be incredibly wonderful, satisfying, instructional, beneficial, and can make me feel loved. This Bible study has helped transform me this year and I look forward to continuing with it in the weeks/months to come.

15. I have truly wonderful children. While I have always known this, every year I'm reminded how great they are. They would give their shirt off their back for a friend, enemy, or stranger and never ask for anything in return.

16. It IS possible to get through a year without any serious medical issues (other than those which are always there).

17. Walking in blizzards and/or rainstorms is still so much fun! As is walking through water puddles when there's still snow on the ground... running barefoot through 2 or 3 feet of snow... swimming in the rain... singing and dancing in the middle of the road while it's pouring rain...

18. It IS completely possible to lose a sewing machine in your own home.

19. I like puppies (especially our new baby Sadie)! but, I like Muggles and Gilly - my turtles - better. They don't attack me every time I'm eating. Or sleeping. Or talking. Or...

20. Babies are, perhaps, the best therapy. Well, at least, if you like babies... and they aren't your own. But, if you're really depressed... hold a baby for a few minutes... instant anti-depressant!

21. Never assume you don't need to pack a particular thing when you're going out of town. It's pretty much a guarantee that as soon as you say/think "I won't need this".... you'll need it.

Well, I could probably come up with a few dozen more... but I think I'll leave it at 21.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! May 2014 teach you some wonderful lessons, as I am sure it will teach me. :)

So Much to Ramble Where to Begin?

Perhaps it's the cold medicine, or the desperate lack of sleep, or the fever I developed last night. Maybe it's the trip, or the season, or the snow. Maybe it's the busyness which has been going on recently. Maybe it's the movies I've watched and the songs I've listened to. Maybe it's the lack of communication, and the realization that I'm not as important as I'd like to be.

Regardless of the cause, tonight I find myself unable to focus my thoughts. I feel like they're all spinning. I feel... so much, and yet so little.

Last night was the Christmas program.... and candlelight service. The program was ok... busy... and I didn't come up with the opening prayer until about an hour or two before the program. Thanks to the help of a friend... someone who is always here for me, and yet not here. Someone who I depend on more than I should, but not as much as I'd like. It's insane and stupid and crazy and right and wrong and everything in between.

As I said before... my brain is a little unfocused....

But, to continue... the program went well. Our children were great. I love our Sunday School children. And to have the courage and ability to stand up in front of so many people and tell the story of Christmas is just beautiful. The candlelight service afterwards.... I cried. I always cry. Silent Night is the usual song for this service... the one song that I always sang to my brother to get him to fall asleep. But, oh well. No one really cares that I become a basket case. I do so pray that I never ignore another person's tears. There is nothing as empty feeling as knowing someone saw you cry and walked away.

Tonight, I watched a show that was recommended to me about a year and a half ago. I must say, I absolutely loved it until the end. I was thinking to myself "I should have watched this months ago!" throughout most of it... until the last couple minutes when I actually got angry that I had wasted my time watching it. Ah well. I am certain I will write more on this topic as a later (sooner) time. Oh, for those interested, the show was Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog. Really, oddly, is worth the watch.

Ever find yourself in a position of believing you're more important than you are? Or, believing you have even an iota of importance, and then realize the truth? Quite humbling. But oh well. Maybe soon I can go back to hiding in the shadows without ever crawling out.

Anyway, enough with the rambling craziness. Perhaps my next post will be a bit more focused and polished and perfect....

Surviving Life in a Small Town

For those moving from a larger city to a little rink-a-dink North Dakota town (and by rink-a-dink, I don’t mean 5,000. I’m talking a couple hundred… maybe reaching 500…), the change can be very daunting. You’re used to stores being open 24 hours, shopping malls, movie theatres, people. And now, things are only open from 8 to 5 if you’re lucky. Everything is closed on Sundays, major, minor and made-up holidays, and funerals. And you can go days without seeing a person.

But never fear! There is a way to adjust to and survive (mostly happily) life in a small town.

1.       Get a hobby! Or a few of them. This is crucial. And, be sure you have hobbies for every season.  Some common hobbies of those in small towns include drinking, gardening, and gardening while drinking. Of course, gardening in the middle of a North Dakota winter would be rather fruitless (get it? Fruitless?) which is why hobbies for the different seasons are important. Drinking, however, is a wonderful year round hobby.


2.       Turn your hobby into a business. Or just start a business. Home-based businesses in small town ND are quite common. Make and sell jewelry, or homemade yummy stuff. Other ideas include mowing lawns, fortune telling (note – this could get you burned at the stake), or stripping at the local bar (although, this also fits under hobbies).


3.       Have children. Lots of children. Have a few… and when they’re too old to provide adequate entertainment, have a few more. Have enough to keep the area school in business. Have enough to start your own baseball team. Just have them! In addition to keeping you busy and entertained, they also give you something to talk about with your neighbors. Granted, most of these conversations will be along the lines of “your child put a baseball through my window again!” but, at least you’ll have conversation topics.


4.       Get to know the area cats and dogs – you’ll see them much more often than your neighbors or any creature that walks on two legs. Note: if you feed any of these creatures even once (whether those with 4 legs, or those with 2), they will keep coming back for more. So, do so at your own risk.


5.       Get involved in the school, church, and/or the bar. These are pretty much the only way to get accepted into the community, although, not particularly in that order. Let me also take this time to point out – while there is most likely only one school, you will have your choice of church (in a town of 250-500 people, you’re looking at 4-7 churches), and your choice of bar (again, in a town of 250-500 people, you’re looking at 2-4 bars).

***Edit contributed by a good friend (Thanks Troy!!!): "Get involved in the school, church, and/or the bar. Depending on the town, these may all be in the same place."

6.       Never, ever say you don’t like basketball! Basketball is sacred in small towns. It is of crucial importance that you understand the reverence in which small towns hold this sport and the players. Of course, for some towns (mainly those closer to MN), hockey is the revered sport. Best to just say you love all sports.  And go to the games. Tons of fun. Basketball, volleyball, baseball, softball – whatever sports your town offers… go, support, visit and have fun. And eat! Most small towns know how to serve some yummy concessions during games!


7.       Find out what’s expected of you. Very few will directly tell you. You have to listen for gossip. But in particular, if you’re the spouse of a prominent figure: the mayor, school principle, school superintendent, or one of the many pastors/preachers/bar owners in the town… you have expectations placed on you that you must be able to mind-read to figure out. Alternatively, figure out who else is an “outsider” in the town and ask him/her. They know the gossip and gossipers, but don’t hold it back from the gossippees.


8.       Learn to enjoy quiet walks along abandoned city streets! Walks give you something to do. And, if you walk enough, you learn the roads so well you can make it home even when you can’t remember your own name. Don’t be afraid to ask complete strangers you find during your walk to join you. Most likely, they’re just bored enough that they’d enjoy the opportunity to wander aimlessly with someone new.


9.       Learn the names of homes… not the addresses. “Oh, you’re living in Jimmy Johnson’s old house?” is a common thing in small towns… and said by people so familiar with the place that they seem to think even new people from 3 states away know who Jimmy Johnson was and where he lived. A correct response to such a question would not be “I don’t know… its 303 West 5^th” because no one in town knows where that is, except maybe the mail carrier. Instead, try “if you mean the red house a block west from the Baptist church… yes.” Or a simple, “yeah, that place.”


10.   Always remember –most small towns are only 30-60 miles from a larger city. This may seem like a long distance, but it really doesn’t take any more time to get there than it did for you to get from your home in the big city to the nearest mall on the other side of the city in rush hour traffic. And the lovely scenery of flat land with very few trees/cars/sites has its own special quiet beauty.

And there you have it - 10 ways to adjust to and survive life in a small ND town. Good luck!

Odds and Ends

I had the BEST day Friday. My bosses were in town... that always makes things fun, especially since I only get to see them about once a year. We went out for dinner/meeting, which was excellent. Then went out for expresso and dessert. Again, wonderful! Then, I got to go see my son in the high school performance of "Here come the Brides" - hilarious!

Just,, a great day.

And now today... we're getting a major blizzard - in the middle of April... and I think it's dumping more snow on us than any of our other blizzards this year. Yay? I think Mother Nature is a little messed in the head. She been drinking too much or something.

Oh! I was checking out the stats on my blogs... I started this one in July of 2010... so, almost 3 years ago. I started my psycho sermons blog at the end of August last year... so not even 8 months old yet... and that one is 15 views shy of beating this one in terms of views. Who'd'a thunk?

I have discovered my turtles absolutely LOVE freeze dried crickets and meal worms. Well, the worms aren't that surprising.. I already know they love fresh earth worms. But, I didn't think they'd love the crickets so much. I dump a few different kinds of food in their pond, and they seek out the crickets first.

I'm really tired today... not sure if it's because of the weather, or if I'm coming down with something, or if it's just been all the stress and craziness this past week or so.

I made doughnuts yesterday! And a funky cool tie-dye cake today. :)  4 of my 6 kids were gone all day yesterday for an archery tournament. I'm glad the school offers archery... I wish they did when I was in school. Granted, we did get a few weeks of archery during phy-ed, but it would have been cool to be on a team.


Anyway, that's enough odds and ends for now. :)

Check Your Kids' Phones!

Luckily I haven't found anything on my kids' phones... yet... but I guarantee, I will start checking. If you're under 18 and living in my home, you can damn well bet you won't get any shot at privacy... especially if I think for one second you're using any apps for what most teens are using them for.

What am I going on about?

Snapchat... Instagram... apps such as. Parents - do you know that many kids use these apps to exchange naked or semi-naked pics of themselves? Yeah... sending a snapchat to the wrong person would definitely be a bit awkward there, huh? I can't wait until one of you accidentally send it to your parents. And trust me kids... I don't care if you aren't my kid... if I think you're doing this, I will tattle to your mommy/daddy. Why? Because I'm a parent. Because I know what happens with these pics. Because I happen to care.

Seriously guys and girls...do you have any clue what you're doing? You really think that pic is private?!? There IS some person who has access to these pictures. They ARE stored on the internet somewhere, and it only takes some guy with good hacking skills to access all of them. In fact, Snapchat has hacks out there.

Anyway, parents - educate yourself on the tools out there and how kids are using them. And don't be afraid to search that phone. The last thing any parent wants is to find out that some hacker has posted naked pics of your child on a porn site - pics that your child willingly took and sent to someone else. And frighteningly, it happens more often that we want to admit. 

http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/health/mdmama/2013/02/why_snapchat_is_dangerous_its_not_just_because_of_sexting.html 

http://www.digitaltrends.com/mobile/whats-so-special-and-so-dangerous-about-snapchat/

http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&sid=22990051

Busy Busy B... I'd say Bee, but I'm Scared of Those Lil Suckers...

Hellllloooooo People! Holy heckles in a handbasket has things been nuts around here recently. It seems there's something going on every night.

Bingo for Books - great event our Title 1 program hosts for all kids K-8. Lots of books and everyone wins! That was one night.

Basketball Awards! - my wonderful Alex (who just turned 17 today!) got a few awards cuz "Mitts" is such an AWESOME bball player.

Work! - I LOVE my job. and this week wasn't too bad, but in the past few weeks, there have been those days/weeks when I think I should have called in dead. BUT! I get to see my bosses in a couple weeks!!!! I'm excited.

Archery Tournament - holy heckles can my kids shoot! This frightens me a bit :)

The list goes on... between sports and work and school events, things have been nuts. Ohh but I'm not done...

There is also church... in particular, the Sunrise Service coming up at too-bloody-early-a.m. Sunday morning. I've been helping get the music prepared, and the bulletin, and been at the meetings with the youth group leader and the pastor. And, I've been loving it.

Unfortunately, the husband isn't too happy with my intense busyness, and my intense focus on the church. Apparently he actually WANTS to spend some time with me. Imagine that.

Anyway, back to work on the 50 projects I currently have started. Love to all!

It Wants Out

I can feel It... pacing, angry. It doesn't shout. It has no need to. It's presence is obvious. It wants out - out of my head, out of my body. Or perhaps It wants my body - It wants to remove everything else. I'm not sure. All I know is I can feel It, and it hurts. I lack control of every part of me - instead, It is in control.

It has me clawing at my own flesh in desperation - but is this desperation me trying to get rid of It, or It trying to escape? I can't tell. I don't know. I am so out of control, no matter for what purpose I claw. No matter for what purpose my fingernails scratch down my arms, at my chest, my neck - I know nothing other than that I am not controlling my trembling fingers.

I am not controlling anything. Not the voices hiding in the shadows. Not It. Not my hands. Not my heart.

Oh but how my heart cries out - or, my heart had cried out. Until It took over. I screamed for you. I begged you to rid me of this evil inside me. And yet it still resides and has grown. It has forced all that is good to cower in the recesses of my mind. It has forced my soul to grow dark, shutting out all light - all which is good within there will soon die of starvation.

But you, like those before you, chose to ignore the desperate crazy cries of the psychotic. Just faking, perhaps. Being silly. Hiding. Quite amazing, I must say, that the only way I can truly hide from people is to be myself. And yet, I'm not myself. Not any longer. It is me now. I lay bleeding, It still trapped within me, still angry. It has started to claw at me from the inside - evil talons slicing at my heart, my muscles, my ribs. Bright red patterns form upon my chest and arms and the drops of blood flow over me.

Still no release. No quiet. The other voices are still hushed, but speaking. Whispers. So many whispers, so many fearful faint cries. Be silent! Or be loud! Just please - too many voices, too many words, too incoherent.

It has taken over my sight now. Everything seen is tarnished, auras are mutating. Everything lovely is camouflaged, or perhaps no longer exists. It has changed it all. Why didn't you help me? What makes you think you are so much worthy than me? No! No, no no! These eyes, this soul. It has taken over. I am quickly becoming nothing - nothing but It.

And It wants out.

Traditions

Tonight as I was making some sausage/egg/cheese muffins for the kids for dinner, I was suddenly hit with a touch of nostalgia. Many know that growing up wasn't always that pleasant for me or my siblings. But, we did have a few traditions which still make me smile.

Every Sunday noon'ish, generally after returning home from church, we'd make some form of breakfast for lunch. This would be either pancakes, waffles, french toast, and/or toast; eggs; bacon and/or sausage links or sausage patties; and orange juice. My dad and all of us kids would gather in the kitchen, everyone with a responsibility, as we whipped up this yummy meal. I loved this.

Our other tradition was Friday night family night - dancing or games until Dr. Who came on. This was a wonderful time too usually.

Traditions are important. For my family - friday night is pizza night. On some occasions, we make homemade pizzas - a thoroughly enjoyable time as we make sure we have pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon, hamburger, mushrooms, onions, peppers, a couple different cheeses, jalapenos, and an assortment of other toppings available. But, no matter if its a cheap frozen pizza, or a homemade pizza, Friday night is the time for our family to get together and enjoy at least a little time with each other.

When the weather is decent - Saturday afternoon is Now & Then time for my daughters and I. Now & Then is the local thrift store.. and we love going there, usually to purchase a few romance novels. Sunday morning used to be my coffee hour with one of my daughters. We do still usually have this time - but where it used to be at the cafe, it is now at the church. And in the summer/fall - evening walks is quite commonplace for us. Oh, and of course walks in the middle of blizzards - this is a must!

And one tradition we started just a few years ago - New Year's Eve... the kids and I go outside right after midnight to laugh and play and make snow angels.

Yes, I do love the traditions I had growing up, and those I've started with my own family.

Where Did You Go?

Took a walk again tonight
Past your old house
Past our old hang-outs
Past all the old memories

Took a drive against tonight
Down that same old road
We drove down before
Down all the old memories

Where did you go?
Where are all the smiles we used to share
Where did you go?
Those intensely deep eyes are no longer there
Where did you go?
What did I do to make you not care
Where did you go?
Where did you go?

-------------------------

And, that's as far as I could get with writing that one. Maybe I'll go back to it some day and finish it. Or, most likely, I won't. I have so many unfinished lyrics and poems and stories and whatnot. And, once I lose my focus on them, I can't go back. And lately, this loss of focus has been happening quite often. It never fails - I sit down to write, inspiration having hit, and someone comes in and interrupts me. And it's really starting to get annoying. If I can't get the words out how I want them to get out, I'm going to lose it. My sanity is already starting to slip away. My patience is already gone.

I never did submit that short story to the contest. I finished writing it - but not editing it. And I really hated the ending I gave it. It desperately needs work before I show it to anyone, much less before I submit it to a contest. But, I was rather proud of myself for even writing it - a short story with no sex it in? I was very proud of myself. Although, I do have to admit, as I was writing it, I was thinking of where I could put a good sex scene. Ah well. Old habits die hard.

Went to Now & Then today - a 2nd hand store. My girls and I used to go every Saturday, until the weather turned really cold. Today was the first day in a couple months that I've gone. Bought a couple smut books. Came home, took a nap, then read one of those smut books. There's one problem with reading those though - every time I finish one, I think "I could write better than this...." And yes, that came to mind again today. I'm a sad, sad, creature.

But anyway, as I still have a sermon to write today (I haven't been doing very well at writing one every night during Lent), and I seem to have lost my concentration on my poetry/lyrics, and I'm sure no one wants to hear me ramble any longer, I must depart...

-----------------
Tonight's Playlist:
Owl City - When Can I See You Again
3 Doors - Here Without You
Lawson - Still Hurts
Westlife - Hard to Say I'm Sorry (crappy remake of Chicago song)
Savage Garden - Two beds and a coffee machine

Random Thoughts of the Evening

So many thoughts are boiling over in my head tonight... and not one of them related to the next. All the voices have their own mindset. It's like sitting in a crowded bar and hearing 20 different conversations going on around you, all about different subjects.

I really shouldn't watch Law & Order: SVU. It's a great television show - must be considering how many seasons it has lasted. But the subject matter is sometimes difficult to get through. Tonight's new episode was particularly hard. Usually they don't show the crimes as they happen - just hint at what's about to happen, and then you see the body, or the person lying in a hospital. Tonight's was a rape, a visual one, a disturbing one. One that would probably give nightmares to anyone who's ever experienced something which was almost the exact duplicate of such an atrocity.

Oh how desperately I dislike fish. Every night come interruptions - always when I am writing, or watching television, or just trying to relax. And always regarding the fish. And always in frustration. As if I am the fish encyclopedia and am intentionally withholding information on how to care for these slimy little creatures. We lost another one of the little things tonight. Lucky me got to flush him down the toilet.

Multiple personalities - I have been thinking a lot on this topic tonight. Have you ever considered that maybe some of us truly do have multiple personalities? Except, generally, when someone is thought to have these, they don't realize it. They don't know they are multiple people, and have no recollection of what the other people do. But maybe for some of us it's a little different. It's like... you're in a room, you can see into the next room but the person in there can't see you. You can hear the person in the other room, but that person can't hear anything you say. You have no control over this other person, but are perfectly aware of every action he or she does. And then suddenly you and this other person (or perhaps a third or fourth person) swap places. You're in control and the other person(s) can only watch what you do. Imagine what a mess this could create in your life?

I wrote a short story last night. There's a contest - with a fast approaching deadline - that I was asked to submit to. The only requirements: 500 to 2500 words, and it had to incorporate the theme of death. That's right up my alley. But a short story? Oh, I forgot to mention the other requirement - no erotica. Well, the only short stories I write are erotica. My poetry, lyrics, ramblings, novels - those are many other different subject matters, rarely ever crossing that line. But my short stories always stay on that side of the line. And I can't write that? But, I enjoy a good challenge. So, I wrote one. I haven't decided if I'm going to submit it though - it really isn't all that good. And it definitely needs a lot of work... too much to be able to acceptably accomplish by Friday midnight.

It really sucks when you know what's wrong with you, but you don't know how to fix it. It's like - 1000 piece puzzle. You have the pieces all spread out in front of you, and the picture on the box of how it's supposed to look, but no clue how to put it all together. I've never been good at jigsaw puzzles. I've never been good at putting together broken things. I've never been good at accepting that others also can't always put together broken things. Of course, sometimes I think I'm a jigsaw puzzle missing a few pieces... or worse, got mixed up with another puzzle so all the pieces don't even belong to me - which is why I can't be fixed.

I had several other random thoughts spinning around in my head... encompassing everything from regrets, to psychoses, to darker thoughts, to regrets. But, they're all scrambling, hiding in corners and behind pillars. And so, I shall hush... and go back to eating chips and a very yummy homemade chip dip made out of ghost chili sauce.

Pseudonyms

I was recently asked about my pen name "Rianna Tyler." While those who know me, know where my last name came from, they are curious as to how I decided on my first name.

Before I get into the answer to this question, I have to tell you - the opportunity to give yourself a name is quite exciting. And, it's very difficult - especially when you're one with many voices/personalities. I have actually gone through several pseudonyms... and it is entirely possible Rianna will not stick. That said...

Before I explain how I got my pseudonym, I must first go back to my first pen name, and all the revisions.

When I was a teenager, I often signed my writing S. Lynn. While this started as the first initial of my last name (Snare) and my middle name (Lynn... duh), the S. eventually came to mean "Samantha". Samantha... or, Sami, was also the name of the fake person I made up to torment people. The tormenter was Samantha (Sami) Adams. The writer was Samantha (Sami) Lynn.

And then came the internet age. Oh how exciting... chat rooms, false identities... it was all so appealing to someone like me - someone with multiple personalities. My first chat-room name was slynn... which, amongst the many faceless names, seemed rather untelling. And so I changed it to rogue - my favorite X-men character. But this really wasn't me. Although, in a way, the character seemed to fit me, it was a stolen name. So, rogue eventually turned into Blackwidow... and Devil's Child... and LuvSpell... and the list went on. And, depending on the personality present at that time, all these names did have a place.. a meaning... a reality. But, they aren't pen names you write under.

One day, I saw the name Kiara and decided I loved that name. So she became my new personality. The last name became Rose - a flower I have been regrettably compared to many times. And, I did like Kiara. It was a good name to write poetry and romance under, but, I grew tired of it. And, in a state of depression, I decided to choose a new chat-room name - Scarlet Rain. This one reminded me more of my blackwidow/devils child days. It wasn't a name I could write under, but oh how it fit me.

Well, one day, while just a little tipsy, I misspelled my name - I was Scarlet Rian... and the Rian caught my eye. I added the 'na' to the end, and dropped the scarlet, and voila! Rianna was born.

Anyway, it took a few years before Rianna was given a last name. But, the name fits me. The rain she was born from, the name she is attached to, the uniqueness while not being overly different.... she is me, I am she. And, there you have the story of the birth of a pseudonym.

how i've missed this...

the feel of cold steel
against flesh
slipping, sliding
the deepness of the red
flowing
the release
the desire
the sudden calmness

ah how i've missed this

the pain
the tears
escaping, flowing
the deepness of the warmth
flowing
the truth
the desire
the sudden peace

ah how i've missed this

This is Who I Am

Oops.... it seems the post which was here has magically disappeared. Be grateful :)

Drinkin' and Thinkin'

Drinkin' and Thinkin'
by brandi eissinger/rianna tyler  3/2/2013

It's only 10 o'clock and I'm already drinkin'
just thinkin'
about you
It always seems to work this way when I remember
december
with you

You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'

It's only one o'clock and i'm already cryin'
my heart dyin'
missing you
This is a common occurrance when faced with the memory
of you and me
I'm missing you

You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'


Why did you have to go
Why did you have to leave
You must have known
You were the one who made me believe...

You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'

Recycled

I'm one of those strange people who would rather go through bags of used clothes than go shopping at a clothing shop. I love people's old clothes. And, I have a hard time giving up clothes - I get attached to certain items and just can't get rid of them.

But, about 6 months to a year ago, I finally went through all my clothes and got rid of the things that didn't fit. Granted, there were a few articles I kept even though it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever fit into them again. But, for the most part, I did get rid of them. And, as is tradition, once that pile is sorted out from the keepers, it's a free for all. The girls can snag whatever they want. And, this usually dwindles the pile down by at least half.

Today, my 15 year old informs me she just went through her clothes, and had already given her younger sis a go at the pile of give-aways. Yay! My turn! I took a good half of what was left of the pile... including several pairs of jeans/pants that she had taken from my pile a year ago. Ah it feels good to have lost 15 pounds since I last gave away clothes. Not that I could fit into most of those jeans still.... 4 years ago, I was a size 3/4... then I gained 30 pounds.And yes, I've lost half of that now... but that's still 15 pounds heavier than a size 3/4. Ah well. I will get there again. Somehow. Someday. Maybe.

But, that aside... I had a great time going through the clothes... and got several adorable new outfits without having to spend a dime. And the great thing - these clothes are already worn in. I do so love used clothes.


Today's Playlist:

BBMak: Pretty much the entire Sooner or Later CD

And, when Caity and I were out walking around...:
Florida Georgia Line - "Cruise"
Casey James - "Crying on a Suitcase"
Gloriana - "Can't Shake You"

I just can't stop... :)

The family is all in the other room watching the movie Ted. I made it through the first 30 minutes before I just couldn't take any more. That is such an awful movie. I hate movies which have so much senseless swearing and disgusting jokes and drug use and sex and blah... it was just horrible. So, I came into my room. And I wrote my sermon for the night. While drinking a glass of experimental wine.

And oh my heavens is that experimental wine so horrific. It's almost as bad as the movie I couldn't finish watching. Well, obviously not that bad considering a) I'm still not watching the rest of the movie and b) I did go get another glass of this terrifying liquid. But, it almost takes like pee... not that I know what pee tastes like.... but I imagine it's probably better than this stuff.

So what kind of wine am I drinking? It's made out of cherry juice and sweet tea. See, a few weeks ago, I made a wine out of sweet tea and SodaStream Half & Half (half lemonade/half tea). And that was the BEST wine I've ever tasted. So I saw this half bottle of cherry juice in our fridge and no one liked it/wanted to drink it. So I figured I'd try it out with sweet tea. And, that's the last time I'll be doing that. Although, I do have to say, I think this is the strongest wine I've made... it's kind of kicking my arse right now.

In other news... Have you ever been hit with a hint so unsubtle, it knocked you on your ass? Yeah. I'm a little slow... I probably should have picked up on the subtler hints months ago. But well, when you have a supposed friend say "don't you have someone else you can talk to?"... yup, hint taken. Sorry it took me so long. Now, please go fuck yourself. :)

One question I have - why do people feel the need to so consistently point out their belief that there is no God? I mean seriously... even if I didn't believe in God, I would be completely annoyed by the behavior of these people. It's almost like they have to consistently say this to remind themselves... It's almost like they find themselves almost believing and it scares them, so they post something stupid online condemning believers and "proving" there is no God, or simply insulting believers and God. It just gets so annoying and stupid. Grow up. Seriously.

If you don't believe in God, or in a higher power, or anything else, fine. That's your prerogative. But you really don't need to annoyingly point this out every other hour. I do believe... and with the exception of sharing my sermon posts when I write them, I don't feel the need to consistently try to change your mind on religion... so don't try to change mine. See how that works? Pretty cool, huh?

So... what else can I babble about?

Ohhh! I cleaned my room today. Well, most of it. I at least put away the 6 large piles of folded clothes that took up 1/4 of my room. And, straightened up the mess of paintings, paint, easels, paint pallets, crafty things, etc that took up another 1/4 of my room. It's kind of funny... this is my husband's and my room.... we have two dressers and a fairly large closer... of which he has 1/2 of one dresser and about 1 foot of closet rod space. Actually, it's probably closer to 6 inches of closet space if you consider the fact that I've stolen the clothes of his which take up the other 6 inches. I love men's shirts :) Especially flannel shirts. Not the lady flannel shirts either - those are too girly. I like just a nice large man's flannel shirt. They make good pj's too. Yup, just the flannel shirt.

And... I can't think of anything more to babble at the moment. So, I shall hush :)

Don't Read This Post!

Why? you ask.

For no reason whatsoever, other than the fact that no one reads my blogs anyway, so if I tell you all not to read it, than it was my decision and not that you all turned your back on me. Make sense? Yeah, I didn't think so either. But, for now we'll go along with that.

So, what is up with me? you ask. Not a whole lot. I probably should consider going to sleep, but as it's not even 11 yet, and I haven't gone to bed before midnight (usually closer to 1 or 2) for the past two weeks, I figure - why start now? Besides, I had a nap just a little bit ago.

I went to church today... and got to do sunday school... which actually just consisted of singing and crafts (no lesson today)... and consisted of only one kid. Yup, that was exciting. Although, she's a good kid... and we made cute little magnets.

I wrote another sermon today (have been doing so every day since Wednesday... it's a new Lent thing for me that I'm trying). Of course, last night, I wrote a smut story.... wrote a sermon about sin (particularly the sin of lust in thoughts)... then wrote part two of the smut story. Part 2, in my opinion, was much better. How wrong is it though to write a sex story than write about how wrong it is to think about sex? Interesting. I should probably be stoned. Or burned at the stake. Or something.

I also realized that I'm rather annoying. That's the only explanation I can come up with for why certain people disappear whenever I appear online. I really shouldn't be surprised by this. Telling someone you hate them may develop into feelings of wanting to abandon said hater. And really. I don't even care. I don't know why I ever tried to pretend to care. That's not who I am. It's not what I am. It's not why I am.

Hmmmm... why am I? Strange question. Why am I what? Why am I here? Why am I alive? Why am I psychotic? Why am I unworthy of the love of a friend? Why am I not writing another smut story right now? OOoo! I have an idea for a new one. Three-some anyone?

Not sure I could ever take part in a three-some. That's too many bodies/parts to keep track of. I can barely survive just two people involved... not that I even recall how that goes. I am capable of handling just one person involved, however.

And now I am completely veering off topic. Which, is actually quite acceptable as there is absolutely no topic to this post. Oh - and for anyone who may be reading this who knows me.... I'm really not me. And everything within this post is a lie. And none of it should be seen by the public. I'm really just throwing things into this post to see a) who actually reads it; b) who has the balls to say something to my face; c) how quickly someone on the other side of town hears about what is written here - although by the time it gets to someone else, none of what is gossiped will actually be written here. It'll probably turn into some... "omg! she had a three-some in a church and ended up starting a fire and getting burned by the cross..."

Ooooh! Three-some in a church! How bad would it be to write a smut story like that? Of course, I believe on the Garden blog, I already have a story or two which takes place inside a church.

But anyway, before I go forth and write something which is probably blasphemous, and could end up being a one way ticket to hell, I must first go forth and finish my laundry, lest I end up arriving at work in the nude.

Good night my dear sweet followers. And by the way, if you read this - shame on you! Punishment shall await you.

Secret Identity

I was in 7th of 8th grade when Samantha Adams was first introduced to me and my friends. If you asked her, she was fairly short, slender, long blonde hair, pretty, and incredibly sweet and athletic. She got along with most everyone, and had a couple boys she was interested in. By 9th grade, she was quite popular. There was just one small flaw with her... she didn't exist.

That's right. Samantha Adams - Sami to her friends - was a figment of my imagination. I can't recall how or why she was invented. I believe she was simply a character from a short story of mine. But no matter - she was great. She used to leave notes in the lockers of a couple boys I had crushes on (Nate and Tony.... poor poor boys). Eventually she was tucked away... or, rather, moved to either Wisconsin or Pennsylvania or something. But, she has been known to come out every now and then (Of course, now that she's being made public, I suppose I can't use her again).

So why do I bring up Sami?

A few weeks ago, I noticed a friend of mine add a couple friends to facebook. But, I was a bit suspicious of these "friends." It was fairly obvious they weren't real. But the person who had done this didn't strike me as the type to have any secret identities. So, I brushed it off as me simply being paranoid and assuming everyone is as psychotic as myself.

I brushed it off... until tonight. Tonight I was browsing another site and found this friend had an account there. And while the friend used her real name, her profile name was different... and had the same last name as the friend she'd added to facebook. Quite interesting indeed. Why on earth would this person create a profile under an assumed name?

I know why I did it in Junior High School - I was a silly stupid teenager who wanted to let a guy know I had a crush on him, without me actually doing the talking. And, I know why Sami came back many years later - she was spying on a friend (well.... was going to spy... it didn't work so well, and she ended up blocked from the site). But this person? Quite interesting indeed.

There are some people you just assume do not lie. And this is one of those people.

But, I have learned that everyone lies. Everyone is willing to deceive another for one reason or another. Everyone has something to hide.

Everyone has a secret identity they only show certain people, and for certain reasons, and others will never know who or what this identity is.

Of course, I am not one to judge. In addition to Sami, there was also my imaginary boyfriend Johnny (he was a drug dealer from Florida)... and Johnny's twin brother Jason (he was a manager of a porn studio). And then there have been my multitude of online screen names and my pen names.

And yet, with all the secret identities I've had, this one... this friend... the thought just makes me shake my head and wonder.

What do you have to hide?

Give Me Something

I sit here, staring at this white screen, trying to come up with something to say. Something earth-shattering to spill from my fingers. Or, perhaps it isn't earth-shattering that I am looking for. Perhaps what I am looking for is simply something that will shatter you - your heart, your soul, your obnoxious self-control. Perhaps it is simply something that will make you cry, or hurt, or show some anger.

I want to come up with some biting phrase that will rattle you. A paragraph that will drive you to tears. A page that will make you want to smash your screen into bits. Or maybe make you want to grab me and either shake me or kiss me - or perhaps both.

But, I know this is a silly endeavor. I know there is nothing I could do to elicit any form of impassioned response. Or any form of impassive response. Or any response whatsoever. This would require some emotion. Some form of actual feeling towards me, be that feeling love or hate. Yet there is nothing. I know this. I hate it. But I know this.

And so I sit here, staring at this white screen, trying to come up with something to say. Something intellectual to spill from my fingers. Something that will stir a desire from you to discuss something meaningful. Yet even this turns up nothing. It's all dark and blank and non-existent. It's all simply dead. If it were even ever alive.

I don't think it was. I think it was all a lie. It never existed. It never held any truth. It was simply a string of lies, but for what purpose?

-------------------------------------------

I was watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer earlier tonight. Actually, we were watching the musical - and fast-forwarding to the songs we liked best. Spike. Ahh how I do love Spike. There is so much passion within him. But, there is also love.

At the risk of sounding like a sadly pathetic Buffy fan (which, I am)...

Buffy had two main men (love affair men... not men in general) in her life (I don't count Riley simply because, I didn't like him): Angel, and Spike. Many people argue that Angel was the better love...the truer love. I don't agree with this. Angel had a soul. Everything he did was because of this. He helped Buffy, because he had to. Those of you with a soul... with a conscience... should understand this. You do good things because otherwise you're wracked with guilt. But Spike? He had no conscience.... no soul. And yet he still loved her. He still helped her. He did things for her because of a love that went deeper than a simple soul.

I think this is the kind of love we all desire.... a love that is there not because someone has to love us. I don't want someone to love me simply because they feel this is what they're supposed to do. I don't want someone to be here for me just because their conscience tells them they should be. I don't want someone to pretend to care just because otherwise they might feel some sense of guilt. Or because they feel some sense of responsibility.

I want to be loved, and held, and heard because that is what someone wants to do. I want to be loved, and held, and heard for no reason other than the other person wants to love and hold and listen.

Perhaps this is too much to expect.
-------------------------------------------

It's very simple, you know. Just a few small words. Two would suffice. "Shut up." Or, you could go with three... "Leave me alone." Or, perhaps you prefer being a bit wordier - to soften the blow a little. "I do care about you, but I think... blah blah blah." But seriously, any of these will work. Just don't pretend. Stop pretending. Stop acting. You aren't good at it. And to care just because you think that's what is expected of you? That's just stupid. It's a waste of your time, and mine.

And so I ask of you... put something on this blank screen. Something for me to read. Give me some truth to absorb. Give me a reason.

Ah, even as I say the words "give me some truth", I know within myself that I don't want truth. I want what I want to hear. I want to dream. Or, at least, part of me does. But, I don't want this as a lie... I want the dream to be the truth. This reminds me of a sonnet I wrote many years ago.  Well, actually, it only reminds me of the last two lines. And, because the rest of the sonnet really sucks, I shall only post the last two lines. From Sonnet 1, written 11/2/92...

     "And now I ask of you, my readers dear—
     What you do think, yet what I long to hear."

 Ah! I also like the last two lines of Sonnet 10, written sometime in 1999...

     "Truth and dreams both whisper desperate pleas
     And yet here lies the lies of memories."


And with that, I slowly and quietly slink into the shadows...

-----------------------------------

Tonight's Playlist:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer - The Musical...
   - Rest in Peace
   - Standing in the Way
   - Walk Through the Fire
   - Life's a Show

There Comes a Time

There often comes a time in our lives when we realize that the relationships we thought we had, aren't real. And those we chose not to trust, we were right in our decision.

There comes a time when we realize that those who tell us we need to open up and trust someone, are the exact people whom we should never trust. And those who claim to be our friend, don't have a clue what true friendship is.

There comes a time in our lives when the words "I love you" need so desperately to be heard, but those whom we need to hear it from are unable to say the words. And those we truly love don't even recognize our existence.

There comes a time when we desire to be loved and held close to someone's heart, but not just anyone will do. And the one who will do is the one who doesn't care.

There comes a time in our lives when a simple hug could heal a hurting heart, but the one whose arms are needed is too far away. And those who are nearby just can't make the hurt disappear.

There comes a time when we simply need to accept that we truly are alone, by accident or design. And those who can change this fact never will.

_______________________________

Tonight's playlist:

Gloriana - Can't Shake You
Miranda Lambert - I Just Really Miss You

All High-techie

I just got a new phone last night...And can now access blogger via my phone. I feel so cool now. Of course, typing on this takes forever for me...so don't expect too many posts from here :)

And with that, I must end this short little post.

Will You Try?

I just watched an episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. I really should never watch this show. Most of the time it's children who are raped, molested, or beaten. And every so often, one of these really triggers a pain and an assortment of flash backs. Tonight, it was difficult to make it through the episode. And yet, I found myself unable to turn away. A priest was beaten by two men. The reason - the men believed this priest had molested the sister of one of them. It turns out, he hadn't actually been the abuser... he was protecting another priest who had molested this young girl... had gotten her pregnant... had forced her to have an abortion... had been the cause of her addiction to alcohol and drugs.

It really is so easy to point the finger at other people. I was raped - this is why I drink. I was molested - this is why I sleep with everyone. I was beaten - this is why I do drugs. It's kind of funny actually... I have heard so many times that those who abuse, will abuse. I've heard abusers use that excuse - well, this is what happened to me. And I've always wanted to smack these idiots upside the head. That makes no sense - to abuse someone else because you were abused??? Tell me how the hell that makes sense. BUT, the rest... the alcohol, drugs, sex, self-destructive actions? THOSE make sense. But no one tries to understand those. No one cares why you can't open yourself up to love. No one understands why you can't trust. No one understands why you want to die. You have it all - a good home, great family, decent life. Why wouldn't you be happy? They can't grasp it. They can't understand it all.

Will you try?

Just now, most of you thought, "Of course I will." And most of you just lied to yourself.

Hmmm... that assumption isn't fair, you think? Or even worse, you believe you're one of the very few that I excluded when I said "most of you"?

Let me ask you this...

Imagine you're 5 or 6 years old, or thereabouts... someone you know and trust forces you to touch them in places you know you shouldn't touch. And they touch you there. And you know it's wrong. And you know you have to. And you're scared. You're scared to tell. You know you did something wrong, and you're going to get in trouble.

Imagine you're 8-10 years old, or thereabouts... someone you know and trust punches you in the face, and throws you against the wall. When you crumble to the ground, this person proceeds to kick you in the ribs, the legs, the back, wherever. You know you can't fight back - this person is an adult. You know you can't ever tell anyone. You'll get taken away and put in foster care where things will be so much worse. Or, you won't get taken away - instead, this person will kill you.

Imagine you're 14-16 years old, or thereabouts... someone you know and... well...almost trust (by this time, you really don't trust anyone) throws you to the ground in a secluded area of a park. You try to push him off, but he has his way with you. And your body responds. And as much as you say no and push, you know it's your fault. You know you let it happen. Obviously, despite your "no", you wanted it.

Imagine you're 18 years old, or thereabouts... someone you know (we won't even pretend you trust) twists your arms behind your back until you do what he wants. A few days later, he shoves you hard against the wall, hitting you. You let him. You walk away, believing you deserve better.

But...

Imagine it. Imagine where the rest of your life would be. Imagine what you truly would be. How would you end up? Would you ever love? Could you? Would you ever trust again? Could you? Would you ever be 'right'?

Sadly, imagining it will never really be enough for anyone to understand. You need to experience it. You need to truly feel it to know it. But most of you haven't even tried to really understand it. You read these words without really caring what they mean. You read these words with a roll of your eyes, thinking "oh geez... there she goes again"..."get over it already."

Will you try? Will you truly try to understand the darkness in my soul, the pain in my eyes, the fear in my heart?

No.

No, you won't. Because you can't. Because you don't want to. Because it's easier to roll your eyes and assume I'm just being stupid.

I tried. I was asked to trust, and I did. I was asked to love, and I did. Why won't you try?



Tonight's Playlist:

I started last night with adding the "tonight's playlist" - just because I thought it would be cool to add a few of the songs I listened to either before or during the writing of the blog post. Tonight, I want to say... EVERY song on this play list should be listened to. They all have to do with the subject matter, and are very good.


Big and Rich - Holy Water 
Carrie Underwood - Blown Away
Martina McBride - Concrete Angel
Marina McBride - Independence Day
Collin Raye - 11th Commandment
Matthew West - Broken Girl

Hiding

I was watching the reality show "So You Think You Can Dance" tonight, and there was one beautiful dancer on there whom was chastised for not showing emotion. Ah, how many times I've been there, burying that emotion, whether by accident or design.

I don't know her story. Every story is different. Every hardship which forces us to hide the laughter and tears - it's always different. Perhaps she was turned down too many times. Perhaps it has nothing to do with her dancing. Perhaps she was abused. Perhaps she was used one too many times. I don't know.

But I do know that she was chastised for her lack of emotion. And on her next performance, that emotion was there.

And I do know... most of us who have that emotion buried... there is usually someone out there who can pull it out of us. You never know who; you never know when. But eventually someone will come along whom you find yourself unable to hide from. He or she can pull the real smiles and tears from you - not the forced ones you find yourself showing others at appropriate times. He or she makes you feel, whether you want to or not, whether it hurts or not. This person brings it out of you. This person brings out the fear, the sorrow, the anger, the joy - all of it real, and all of it strong.

And I do know... the people who are capable of doing this are few and far between. And this is considering you're lucky enough to find even one. I was that lucky. And then I wasn't. To go from not showing emotion, to oddly feeling perfectly okay with letting people see the real you, to suddenly going back to not being able to show that emotion...

Have you ever read Flowers for Algernon? Geez I can't recall how many years ago it was that I read this novel. It must have been my very early high school or college years. But basically, it's how it feels to have something you've never known suddenly in your life... then lose it. When you don't have someone you can trust to show yourself to for so many years... you have no clue what you're missing. Then suddenly, you have this. You know the incredible feeling it is to be able to let someone in. You feel the light, the warmth. You feel the tears... but they don't frighten or truly depress you. You know you're taken care of. You know it will be ok. And then it's stripped away.

Not knowing what you're missing is oh so much better than knowing. THAT is the plot behind Flowers of Algernon. And this is the plot behind this post. Or, part of it anyway. Oh hell, I don't even remember what the plot was regarding this post. And therefore, I shall hush.




tonight's playlist (... this playlist is bouncing between youtube, cmt and gac... and includes many more than what is written here. This is just the ones I remembered to write down...)

Chris Isaak - Wicked Game
Kenny Chesney - Come Over
Train - Bruises
Kelly Clarkson/Vince Gill - Don't Rush

Good/Evil; Truth/Lies,

Good and Evil. Truth and Lies. Light and Dark. Love and Hate. Dreams and Reality. (Did you notice... the "good" things are always listed first... which means reality sucks).

So, I am writing on this blog because I promised a sermon at least once a week. And, it's been a week since I've written one. But, this isn't so much a sermon. In fact, it really should be on my other blog... and I will probably post it there as well as here just to get adequate readers of this post.

Anyway, I have been thinking today and tonight and the past 10 years or more about how so many things in life have two sides - and you can't have one without the other. You can't have light without dark. You can't have good without evil. You can't have love without hate. You have to have the opposite for the one to mean anything.

God is good (in theory). This would make Satan evil. The Bible is truth (theoretically). This would make anything that disagrees with the Bible, a lie. This is how the books of the Bible were selected. I watched a television documentary the other night on recently found books which were left out of the Bible. Some of these were written by other disciples (or about them). For example, there has been found the Gospel of Judas. Now, as we all know, Judas is the one who betrayed Jesus. However, according to this Gospel, Jesus actually requested this betrayal from Judas. Jesus had to sacrifice himself for our sins, and therefore asked his friend to do help him. This goes against all the other Gospels... the "real" gospels. Therefore, it is heresy and cannot be in the Bible.

Don't get me wrong. I don't believe the Gospels we know are lies. Matthew, Mark, Luke, John - all the other disciples would have seen Judas as the betrayer. They would have seen this as truth. But why can't it be possible that Judas' account happened? If it was done in secret - which it would have had to be for it to work - the other disciples wouldn't have known. Therefore, all accounts would be truth.

How can conflicting details both be truth? Because truth is subjective.It is in the eye of the beholder. This is the same with good and evil. In some cultures, cheating on your spouse isn't "bad". Killing someone isn't "bad." Granted, yes, these are sins in the eyes of God... but if you aren't Christian, you can only go by what your religion (or culture) tells you is good and bad, and these won't always agree with the rules of Christianity.

And it isn't only that. It can also simply be the difference in interpretation between an action someone does, and who they do that action against. Suppose you push someone off the boat in the middle of the sea and drive away. You might think you're doing it for this person's own good, to teach that person how to swim on her own. This person, on the other hand, hates you. It doesn't matter if she makes it or not. It doesn't matter if she learns to swim or not. Your perceived good act is an evil act in her eyes. Too dramatic? Ok, say you made a promise to always be there for someone, then walked away. You might see this as not a big deal... nothing bad. It's not your responsibility and you simply don't have time for this someone. It isn't so much that you think what you've done is good... you just don't see it as bad. Or, don't bother thinking about it at all. But have you ever considered looking at it from the other side? Everything has two sides. Always. There are always two truths. Two lies.

Light and dark. Light is truth and goodness. It's God. It's heaven. It's life and salvation. And it couldn't exist with dark - without evil. Without death and the thought of eternal torment. And yet, we have both of these living within our world, and ourselves. Not one of us exists without both this light and this darkness. Now, it is simply a matter of which you are seeking. Which do you actively pursue?

Bubble Wrap

 About a month ago, I was given one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received. It wasn't flowers, or jewelry. It wasn't anything electronic, or anything edible. No photos or books or movies or anything similar. It was bubble wrap.

Yes, that's right... bubble wrap. A large box, approximately 8 cubic feet, filled with bubble wrap.

Bubble Wrap - Up Close and Personal

Bubble wrap is cheap therapy. It's the type of therapy that works for all ages. I don't know of anyone between the ages of 2 and 200 that doesn't like bubble wrap. I do, however, know my dog isn't too fond of it....

So, what can we do with bubble wrap?

Pop it!

Pop!

Wring it like a wet rag and get tons of Pop! Pop! Pop!s

popopopopopopopopopopopopop! :)

Dress up your stuffed animals:

Ain't I so adorable?

Dress up yourself!

Little Bubble-Wrap Riding Hood?

Almost resembles a nun in quiet bubble-wrapped reverence

Bubble Wrap diapers - Better than Huggies!

Bubble Wrap bikini - the swimwear that leaves no tan lines!

And now, I've found a very fun craft that can be done with bubblewrap! This craft is very messy and time consuming, but oh so very cool...

Hi! I'm a Bubble-wrap injected cross!

And I'm a bubble wrap injected heart :)

 COLOR INJECTED BUBBLES!

Aren't they so totally cool!?! All it is... water with food coloring injected into each bubble. That's it. Simple. And oh so totally cool!

So there you have it. Why spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on "professional" therapy when all you need is one thoughtful friend to provide you with a box of bubble wrap?

Rooms

Dr. House: Are you going to base your whole life on who you're stuck in a room with?
Eve the Patient: I'm going to base this moment on who I am stuck in a room with! It's what life is. It's a series of rooms, and who we get stuck in those rooms with, adds up to what our lives are. ("One Day, One Room")

Last night I watched 8 hours of "House." Generally, while it's a good show, I don't really get into it. I can watch an episode or two... but not 8 hours. Dr. House tends to eventually get on a person's nerves. Nevertheless, I did watch it last night, and I saw an episode I have seen a few times before but had never really paid attention to. Last night, it really captured my attention, though.

For those who haven't seen it, the episode is in Season 3, and is called "One Day, One Room." Spoiler alert: A young woman comes into the clinic to be tested for STD's. House realizes the young lady has been raped, and tries to get out of treating her. But, she will only be seen/treated by him, and even tries to kill herself in an attempt to get his attention so he'll agree to help her/talk to her. It works. And from that point on, they have a constant struggle... House doesn't want to be there, Eve (the young woman) won't see anyone else; House wants her to tell him what happened, Eve just wants to talk about anything else; House thinks she should get an abortion, Eve insists she can't because abortion is murder and murder is a sin; and the list of conflicts goes on. And yet, they continue to have this relationship - this bickering back and forth.

This dialogue between the two of them is what caught my attention - particularly the lines above regarding life being a series of rooms.

"It's what life is. It's a series of rooms, and who we get stuck in those rooms with, adds up to what our lives are."

Who would you want to be stuck in a room with? Of course, we generally don't get to choose who we get stuck in a room with. But, such as the case with the woman in the episode, sometimes you can choose. And you're going to want to be stuck in that room with people who help you, those who build you up rather than tear you down. For her, she wanted House in that room with her - she knew there was a pain within him that was similar to her own, and believed that he was what was best for her at that given time.

But, on the same hand, sometimes we need to be stuck in a room with those who need our help. There are those whom we can help build up. There are those who need us for at least a moment - "one day, one room."

And what about those times when we don't get to choose? We get tossed in a room with people who don't seem to care, who hurt us and want to tear us down. We need to make the most of these times. We need to offer our prayers and love and take the opportunity to show God's love to these people. We need to welcome these moments and these people into the room with us. Every person, every moment, every room has the potential to make our life better and more fulfilling. They also have the potential of making our lives more miserable and painful. It's all in what we choose to do with these moments, these people, these rooms.

It's also important to note that who we are stuck with in one room may not be the same as the next room. How many of us have had people we love, those who've changed our lives for the better, those who've helped us out when we needed them in that moment, only to have them leave the next day (or month)? It hurts, but when someone is stuck in a room with us who makes such an impact, while they may no longer be in the room in the future, the memories they bring and the love they give and the lessons they teach - those shape who we become. This is the same for those who bring us pain - but this shouldn't be looked on as a bad thing. All lessons and memories, whether good or bad, shape us. It is up to us how we let those memories shape us - do they mold us into something jagged and ugly, or do they turn us into something softer, more lovely and loving?

With all I have been through in my life, I can honestly say that I appreciate every room I've been in, and every person I have been stuck with in those rooms. No, they haven't all been good rooms or good people. There have been dungeons and abusive masters. There have been deep dark wells, where the only person in the room is myself. But, these dungeons and dark wells have shaped who I am today, for better or worse, and have been instrumental in teaching me how to live and love.

Eve: [discussing abortion] Every life is sacred.
Dr. Gregory House: Oh, talk to me! Don't quote bumper-stickers! 

Dr. House, upon finding out Eve was pregnant from her rapist, tries to talk her into abortion. She is very adamant that she can't have the abortion because it's against God. But this is her only argument. She doesn't go much further than saying "every life is sacred." House's reply is a reply I have often had when it comes to religion. "Don't quote bumper-stickers!" Belief in God shouldn't be just a bumper sticker. You shouldn't just quote religion or the Bible. You need to feel it. You need to know it and believe what you're saying. You need to explain, at least to yourself, why life is sacred, and why abortion shouldn't happen - and not just from a medical standpoint. What does it all mean to you?

Just telling me "God loves you" isn't always enough. I sang "Jesus loves me" in Sunday School. On a good day, I know God loves me. But on a bad day... on a day when I'm depressed and hurting, tell me why. Why does he love me? How does he love me? Why should I believe it? Don't just quote a bumper sticker.


There are many other quotes from this one episode which are thought provoking...

On dealing with pain:

Eve: Time changes everything.
Dr. Gregory House: That's what people say, it's not true. Doing things changes things. Not doing things leaves things exactly as they were.

On judging others:

Dr. Gregory House: I'm wearing a rumpled shirt and I forgot to brush my hair this week. You have Athlete's Foot in your nose. I'm ready to be judged.

On how to help someone going through a traumatic experience:

Dr. Wilson: Tell her the truth.
Dr. Allison Cameron: [Cut to Cameron] Tell her your life has been good.
Dr. Gregory House: It hasn't been.
Dr. Allison Cameron: Tell her anyway. She wants hope. She wants to know that what happened to her wasn't the norm. Things can be okay, which means maybe they can be okay for her again.
Dr. Eric Foreman: [Cut to Foreman] Tell her your life sucked.
Dr. Gregory House: It didn't.
Dr. Eric Foreman: Tell her anyway. She wants to know she's not alone. She wants to know she's gonna survive this, that other people have been through this and worse and come out the other end. She wants to know she's gonna heal. Act like... you healed.
Dr. Robert Chase: [Cut to Chase] Tell her... Keep her asleep.
Dr. Gregory House: Thanks. You've all been a huge help.

Not really helpful...I just like this one:

House: I'm evil.
Eve: Evil people don't say they're evil.
House: That sounds like an easy loophole.

Just a good quote on mankind:

House: We are selfish based animals crawling across the earth, but 'cause we've got brains, if we try really hard, we can usually aspire to something that is less than pure evil.

Again, just another one I like. But, it is a good one on where to put your focus when helping someone:

Eve: Do you think the guy who did this to me feels bad?
House: That'll help you? It'll make you feel better?
Eve: Why do you always do that? Ask why I'm asking questions instead of just answering the question?
House: Because the answer doesn't interest me. I don't care what he's feeling. I'm interested in what you're feeling.