Monday, November 29, 2010

I was gonna wait, but

I was gonna wait for this- I was going to try to not even say this this year.  BUT I was on facebook and someone said it- I needed to retort in my blog so I wasn't sounding like a shit to her.
She said "Jesus is the reason for the season"
Nope- wrong.  Axial tilt is the reason for the season.  Seriously- it's a matter of science.
The reason for Christmas may be Christ.  Although Christ was not born in December.  Nope.
The reason Christmas is in December is because the powers that be were trying to encompass the pagan winter celebration in that month.  The winter celebration might be about a small child born to a virgin woman, or the child of the sun being reborn in the wheel of time.  Both are pagan mythos.  Neither are solely Christian.  Neither is the Easter story.  Timothy Freke writes about this in his book "Is Jesus a pagan god?"
Christians- I am happy to share this month with you, and Chanakah, and Kwanzaa, and festivus.  I am happy to see red and green decor out to celebrate (they are also pagan color schemes for the holiday).  I am happy to cut down a yule tree and burn a yule log.  You can cut down a Christmas tree and burn a yule log (lol).
BUT PLEASE- don't try for sole ownership of this upcoming month and holiday.  PLEASE don't insult me and the Jews and those who celebrate Kwanzaa.  Please don't get all pissy about me wishing to the Gods that you would embrace the saying happy holidays instead of merry Christmas.  The jews were around before Christ, as were the pagans (though I will concede we are all neo-pagans now and have no real link to the old), and we are willing to share and live together like the whos in Whosville.
So, before you start posting about Jesus being the reason and about how horrid it is that people want to say Happy Holidays- think about the rest of us.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

dreams

I dreamt the other night a really weird dream- a lot of dreams I can figure out tie to what I watched as I feel alseep, or to worries I have been mulling over.  Some dreams I can't figure out at all.  Like last night I dreamt I had 3 long hairs on my leg that I missed shaving. They had grown to a foot long and looked thick and like insect legs- weird, huh?

The other nights dream I could figure out- but it was disgusting.  I had a sore ankle when I went to sleep- so that's part of it.  I dreamt my foot hurt- I looked down at it, and it was practically detached.  I could see the bottom half hanging off.  Someone cut it off for me- good.  disgusting but good.  It was good because then I needed to breastfeed a baby.  For which my dream boobs magically create milk (unlike my real life boobs that sucked at breastfeeding my first kid)

I decided this was a metaphor of cutting off old unneeded pains and starting to nurture new stuff, new babies.
you have any weird dreams?

ack! I'm typing on a netbook and keep pushing something that makes my cursor jump back to the middle of a word as I am typing.  so my new sentences pop into the middle of my old sentences like a turducken. I wish I knew what did this- this post took way too long to type!

ttyl

Thursday, November 25, 2010

The real Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving in the US was started in 1863 by Abraham Lincoln. The holiday is a wonderful reason to overeat and spend some time chillaxing with family and friends. It's a great day to let others know how thankful you are unless you are a turkey. I like this holiday though I do call it birdday- happy Birdday!

however- you knew there'd be a however, didn't you? I really don't like the lies we perpetuate as teachers about this holiday. We tell kids that the pilgrims landed at plymouth rock and moved in with the help from the native Americans and everything was honkydorey. We tell people that the Indians eagerly helped them settle and the only sad thing is that a settlers died because they got cold in the winter. The indians kindly showed the pilgrims how to plant corn and squash and beans with a fish, and introduced them to living in America.


Then, when harvest time came, the settlers decided to have a party- like they probably did every harvest. Supposedly, they decided to invite their new friends to join them. Every body brought turkey and pumpkin pie and had a grand ol time.

The truth? They weren't all fine and dandy. the weren't sweet to each other. It was very difficult for strangers with very different customs to like each other. One native did help the settlers plant the veggies they had never known about. They also, I believe, learned how to plant tobbacco. The party? the natives were most likely not invited. The heard a rukus and came over to see if the settlers were gonna start a fight. The settlers decided that since they were there, they might as well eat with them. The Indians went out and got more food (like a deer) to eat. There was no turkey. The pumpkin wasn't in pie shape.

We should be able to honestly teach this to our kids. We should be able to talk about how two different groups of people with vastly different lifestyles, views, and religions had a hard time seeing each other as equals- especially when they did not speak the same language. We should be able to talk about how some situations were handled poorly with fighting and bickering and mistrust.

We should also be able to talk about how some people in each group were kind and respectful. That they took time to try to understand the others' points of view. How at some point, they did (kind of) see eye to eye. How they did sit at the same table without killing each other (like some of you might feel when you go to a relatives for the holidays). How we are still making steps everyday to see our fellow man as equal and valued and deserving respect no matter what religion, race, creed, or orientation. ( For this, I am thankful)

Monday, November 22, 2010

I live with an old wife...and she's not mine

Actually, she's a he, in the form of a 78 year old codger. He's still an old wife because of all the "tales" he believes and spreads.

I caught a cold this week. Why? I thought it was a virus that was expelled through a preschoolers mouth into my nose as he coughed directly in my face- but nooo

Old wife tells me it's because I didn't wear socks on the cold floor. Apparently, the cold germ hangs on the floor and walks through the skin in my feet if I walk barefoot (even in a 75 degree house).

I took an actifed, which is ah antihistamine- and it cleared my sinuses up really well. I could breathe though I was still tired and achy.

Old wife tells me I should have taken an antibiotic (though they are made for bacteria and taking antibiotics willy nilly builds up a tolerance for them which is bad- very bad). Then some mucus pill- whatever the one is that the commercial has a beer bellied booger as it's spokesman.

I was wearing 3 layers, but got cold so I took off two.

Old wife turned the heater up to the setting "hell"- apparently I need to be boiled to kill my germs.

Old wife also believes that sit-ups cause weight loss and when I have a a problem he needs to step in and solve it whether I've asked him to or not. (actually he doesn't do that much to me, because I never mention any issues I have for this reason- he does it to his own children).

I could go on about him, but I think I have grumped about this before :) and I'm gonna lay down so I get over this cold before Turkey Day (I know a cold lasts 5-7 days but I swear it gets over quicker if I sleep a lot the first few days). And yes I took my zinc, ate soup, and drank juice- there is medical proof for those treatments.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

I'm reposting

Here's what I wrote in my notes on facebook 2 years ago (well, one year 10 months) but close enough. I thought it would be interesting to review each year what I want out of life and see if anything changes.




I've had a lot of time to think about what I really want out of life, and even though I might not have my philosophy fully ironed out- Im getting it down for posterity's sake:

I want the same thing we all strive for and need since birth: affection, admiration, respect, acceptance.

I want to be the person someone looks forward coming home to, the person someone can't wait to see or talk to. To be adored. I want a friendly pat on the back, a touch on the arm, a big, full, long bear hug. I want a slap on the butt as I walk by, a stolen kiss on the neck, a meaningful touch, to hold hands. I want to make love as an expression of emotion. I want a stranger to smile at me because we share the same human experience.

I want to be the kind of person a child can look up to, to be a hero in someone's eyes. I want others to see my work and appreciate it. I want to make a meaningful impact on the world that serves as an example to others. I want someone to occasionally think, "wow, I'd like to be like her".

I want people to try to understand my position on things even if they don't agree. I want to be thought of as an informed educated person whose thoughts are valuable. I want what I say or think to be taken with some weight rather than dismissed. I want to be thought of as a person who deserves a good place in life because I have earned it by my actions. I want to be a beneficial member of society. I want my job to make a difference. I want to contribute good things to life on this planet.

I want people to love my idiosyncrasies. I want people to stop pointing out what they consider a fault of mine, and to instead embrace it because that is part of who I am. I try my hardest not to make mistakes, or create havoc, or hurt others- and if I do act like an idiot someday, I want people to realize that it was a momentary lapse in judgment, or a decision I made with thought, not an evil plan to destroy those I love. I am not going to single out my own faults, I am sure you each have your opinion on what they are- but they are ever-changing and subjective.

I want people to know I adore them, and to never doubt that. I try to express this daily to those I love and appreciate (sometimes with words, sometimes with affection). I want those close to me to know that I respect their opinion and want to understand their position on things- I want them to educate me, to widen my horizon, not just validate my stance. I want friends who feel bad about their preconceived faults to know that’s part of what I love about them.  I also want people to know I value their strengths.


Current:  I really like that I wanted immaterial things!  And I want the same things years later, I think this is the core of me, what I strive for.  I like it, I like me.
I can add a few material things now- I'd like to be in a stable marriage.  I realized I like being married- I just need that marriage to have what I need (basically the whole thing I wrote years ago).  I want a little house or trailer to live in.  I want a garden.  ( I think I wrote this part on my blog not long ago-) I want to brew beer, make wine, I want to make stuff like lotion and amulets with my own herbs.  I want to make homemade food like fruit roll-ups and spaghetti sauce. I want to be remembered as a warm giving person.
 
I've realized for a while I tried to be thought of as other stuff- mostly dealing with body issues- like the pretty one, or the hot chick- but I laugh everytime I try to take a picture with a sexy expression on my face.  That's not me.  and I'm not gonna try to conform to fit into that mold- it just just work.
 
I'm a friend, a girlfriend, a mom, an artist, a teacher, a caretaker, a goofball, a nerd.  I like flowy clothes, ballet slippers and heels, short quirky hair, painted walls, my scooter, flavored coffee, food, friends, family.  I want my (future) home to be somewhere people can come enjoy themselves- let the kids run around, take off their shoes, eat, laugh, feel free to say whatever they want.  I want me to fit into that environment- a person who enjoys herself, takes off her shoes, lets her metaphorical hair down, eats, laughs, hangs with friends, etc...
 
as a side note- a few years ago I decided that I was going to say yes to invitations from friends.  I was going to ride the rollercoasters at the amusement park, I was going to try new foods.  It was a year of yesses, and it was a good one.  I am working on that again.  I'm going to spend less time on this couch.  I need to get out there and live.  Especially when so much of life is actually free (like friends and family).
 
To punctuate that, I also decided I'm going to go with some urges.  I'm going to buy some clothes I love that fit (not only from the second hand store where I have been buying them- and when I get money).  I am going to buy some holiday gifts and not stress about it.  I might even go out on Black friday- with Tricia- though that'll be a little hard for me since it is crowds and early morning hours.  And I cut my hair off.  I love the red, I'm keeping it.  I hated the length, which is probably short to you all, but had lots of unhealthy hair and weight to it.  I like short and spunky.  (Boyfriend might not love it- but I do).  Maybe I'll get that tattoo I've been pining for- maybe I'll bake a cake for no reason at all- you never know!  This year I am focusing on loving what I have, and changing what I want, and having a good life full of love and laughter.  If I put out happiness, happiness is attracted to me- and we all need more happiness in the air!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Signs, signs, everywhere there are signs

I had to change the song- I think the song from which I stole the title of this post says everywhere there's signs.  That's just plain dumb grammar.

Ok- really- I stretched the truth yesterday a wee bit.  The sign did say something about not letting your kid on the equipment with a sweatshirt that has strings because he might hang himself.  It also said not to let him walk on the top of the monkey bars, not to let him slide on a burning hot slide, to not let him play if the equipment was broken and sharp, etc, etc...It went on and on with things we should already know, and we don't, how can survival of the fittest be true?

Playground rules confuse me.  I still don't understand why the kids have to sit on the swings- why can't they airplane? ( I do understand the rule about going down the slide not up, and maybe even the one about not letting go of the bars)  Why can't they run on the playground?  Isn't that what playgrounds are for?   These rules seem to be made by the same people who insist kids do blah school work- "color inside the lines, fill in the blank, bubble in which letter is correct"- not "create art, write a story, show me through a play that you understand this"

One of my favorite college teachers taught primarily through song and rhyme.  One of my favorite assignments (from another not so great teacher) was "do anything you want to illustrate that you understand this concept".  Some students made powerpoints, others wrote papers, my friend made a quilt which pictures and stories, I hollowed out a huge book and stuck pictures and stories in it.  We each made it our own and understood it far better that way.


Today is my friday- I'm off work early, tomorrow and Friday are Veteran's day holidays.  It is grey outside and looks like rain- perfect for sleeping in and reading a good book.  My nook is fully charged and ready to go.

ttyl!K

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

what the sign should say


The sign should say- "go have fun, watch that you don't ram into your friends!"

Instead, (i'd show you if I weren't too lazy to walk the quarter mile back to the playground equipment)
it said" don't let your kids wear anything with strings because s/he might hang themselves
don't let your kids sit on the slide if it can cook eggs
don't let your kid slide with a knife
don't let your kids climb on the top of the ladder with a pole to balance
don't let your kids wrap a bag around their head and try to breathe while on equipment
don't let your kids swing in circles and ram into their friends
don't let your kids play if equipment is jagged and knife like
don't let your kids play with guns while on playground
don't give your kids bullets
don't let your kids lick the pole because of salmonella
don't let your kids eat paint

get it?  Our country is such a sue/court happy country that I am sure the playground maker had been sued for every one of these things.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Has this ever happened?

Have you ever liked or disliked something because of who you associate it with?  Lemme give you an example:  I love color- most colors, any color- except purple.  Seriously, I stupidly can not stand purple.  Why?  The people I know who like the color purple are high maintenance, they annoy me- and so the color purple gets the same connotation as those people.  (This is not commenting on YOU- I am sure that you are not this way even if you love purple).  The color scheme of Burgandy and Black and Gold does this to me as well.  Shudder.  (funnily enough, boyfriend chose burgandy and black for a bedspread- but I still like him)



Names are this way with me too.  I am pretty lucky I am not having anymore kids, since every name I love, I have known a child with that name most likely.  I'd probably end up changing my kid's name on a daily basis according to the behavior of the children in that class.

I know a lot of wonderful Emilys.  I've always loved the name Emily.  I probably will continue loving that name since I have met so many wonderful Emilys.

I loved the name Tristan too.  Ever since I saw the movie Legends of the fall.  Ex wouldn't let me name a kid Tristan because it reminded him of a cracker (Triscuit).  I met a Tristan the other day that reallly tried my patience.  He was not an innately evil kid, he just tried to get out of doing anything and had a bad attitude.  It made me like the name Tristan less.

This could be linked to other stuff like food.  If someone broke my heart over a certain food- I'd probably not want to ever eat it again.  If someone stole my heart over food- I'd want it every day.  Don't we do this with comfort food?  Food we associate with love and family?  We love those because they make us feel loved.

What are your associations?

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Update- Crisis over

You'll find that I have a bit of extremism when it comes to things.  Yesterday's post might not have been a crisis to you, but it sure felt like one to me.  Strangely, I didn't feel it hit until yesterday morning, and that might have been because the night before I had had a Tobin dream.  I was still prepared to go- I even found a green skirt (boyfriend's colors) at Goodwill to wear. (It was brand new and target brand- they seem to have a lot of overflow from target).

What really got me overly emotional might not have been the actual event.  It was reactions to it.  Boyfriend has been focused on moving.  He really had no time to think- we talked tonight and he said had he even had time to think about it, he would have talked to me- I believe him.

 Here's the real issue: It was darn hot all week, my mint is flourishing and yesterday was friday (as if that matters)- I made a nice mojito for myself last night.  I drank one with alcohol in it and about 2 virgin.  I called my friend Megan to talk over the Toby thing- she calls me when she's have a break down- she patted my hand and I felt better.  Boyfriend's dad walks in, mentions I had made a second blender (I didn't tell him it was alcohol free- it is none of his beeswax).  Boyfriend texted and needed help at work.  I talked to his dad- and I was still sniffling a bit about Toby.  The sniffles turned to an occasional tear.  His dad said I always cry when I drink.

He totally dismissed any emotions and turned right to alcohol!  wtf? yes I just used a bad word. Quite frankly, I have a beer or a wine most days of the week- and I don't cry most days of the week.  I was already upset and he turned it to my behavior which he is obviously judging.

I went to bed.  Before 8.  I let it all out.  I feel better.  But I stayed in my room all day- sometimes I just need to hermit.  To not deal with people.  Boyfriend didn't wake me up to go with him.  He hadn't seen the blog- maybe he just decided to let me sleep.  He's home now.  I left the toom to find dinner.  I'll go back to bed soon.  Life will go on.

Thank you for your kind words.  I really don't want to seem like a crazy emotional person- but somedays I am.  That's me.  I feel.

TTYL K

bittersweet


I'm a bit melancholy- and emotional.
let me tell you why- lol- like you had a choice!  Boyfriend races his electric golf cart- (it is pretty awesome to see an apple green golf cart hit a wheelie and go almost 50 mph)- anyway- he signed up for an event this weekend.  I was volunteered to help him.  I have no idea if he knows what this event will do to me emotionally-  I don't even know if he knows what this event might do to me- I'm writing and will have this post while I am at the event.

Tomorrow' s (or today's when this posts) event is a rally for kid's cancer.  A bunch of car people are getting together, showing their wares, and racing to make money for kid's cancer.  Boyfriend signed up to show off his really cool and super fast golf cart.  Did he think about what a kid's cancer rally might do to me?  I have no idea.  I haven't had time to really talk to him ( he's been working late).  I'm all for a kid's cancer rally- I'd really like to know where the $ is going though_ I'm ready to sport my picture of my baby and my gold ribbon- BUT I have already had a few days of dreams with my baby Tobin in them.  If you look at past posts, you will know I feel that they are special visits. It's happened for a few days now- which makes sense since  November 1 was dia de los innocentes and November 2 was dia de los Muertos- and November 6th was the day my best friend's dad died and He is making banana pudding with my son (they are all interlocked- really).

Last night's dream had Toby and some of our friend's Ray and Leslie in it.  Ray was hanging out and his mom was cleaning up the house.  Leslie was showing me pictures my oldest son painted while I was trying to figure out what Toby liked to eat now (he's been dead since 1998- does he still like noodles?)

OK_ so the dream only makes sense to me. Especially since I have been drinking mojitos. I am so impressed that I can use since and sense.  Lol.

POINT?  woman! get to the point!  Does the entire world?  Ok- just you and boyfriend- realize what tomorrow(today because I am posting with a timer) means to me emotionally?  I opted out of the non-profit business because it was consuming me emotionally( I have a very addictive all or nothing personality)- do You ( whoever you are) know what this cancer rally might do to me?  ACK- to quote Cathy, yesterday's post.

I realize I might not make any sense right now (five more point for using sense not cents or since)- because I am on an emotional, mojito, carbohydrate induced tirade with mitagating factors that I am not sharing-

but- that's what I have to say! I love and will always love- every one of my babies.

I'd post a picture of Nolan and Delany if stupid google would let me- but you can look back, or I'll post one soon. to see how beautiful and fabulous they are. They are people I can be proud of knowing. But, Tobin, my son, their brother, who died of cancer, affected all of us, and still does. 

Cancer sucks.   I will live my life knowing I was blessed to know (and still visit) my son who died of cancer - 2-17-98

TTYL< K

Friday, November 5, 2010

An open to letter to my future wardrobe



Dear clothing,
I just have one request- no, it's not to make me look like someone I am not, liking turning Hilary Clinton into Halle Berry with the work of a corset and wonder bra.  It's not to magically make my boobs three sizes bigger and belly three sizes smaller.  It's not to make me look taller and thinner by sticking 6 inch pegs to my heels.  It's not even to give the appearance of thinness.

I'd just like to look streamlined.  Less bumpy, you know?  When I am naked I'm not so bumpy, except maybe my cellulite thighs and rippley skin.  It's just that when I put you on, clothes, you pinch in some places and poof out others.  Can't you just lie there and shut up?  why do you have to call attention to yourself?  Look at me!  I'm a waist band popping out 4 inches so you can see her underwear!

Seriously, waistband, and the rest of you pants parts, I am not even talking to you anymore.  Unless you have stretch in your name and I can layer a tunic over you, I don't even want to see you!  Why do you have such thin thighs that squeeze mine like sausages while somehow being too large on my waist so you pop out in the back?  Why are you either too tight  on the calves showing that I am hippy in the middle (hugging my calves may be nice to show off my calves- they are fabulous- but it really accentuates the booty and hugs my thighs as well)  or too loose and look like bell bottoms?  Why do loose fit make me feel like a rapper with a big diaper butt, or higher waisted make me feel like a baby-bellied grandma? (not that there is anything wrong with baby bellied grandmas, I'm just not ready for "mom" jeans).

Skirts, you could behave better too- some of you are fabulous (like my cool thrift store find of a coldwater creek t-shirt material long skirt in mauve), but some of you really suck.  Like brown skirt I tried on today that had gathers in the front- above the belly.  Why do you need to puff out more on my belly?  Or the cute ones I think I like 'til I bend over and my everything pops out- can you just grow a few inches?  Stretch and cotton are good words for you to have, but please do not stretch out too much so it looks like bigbird wore the skirt before I did. also, can you drape straight down in the back, so you don't curve with my butt?  I think that looks great in a pencil skirt on powerful business women, but as a teacher, I feel like I need to appear more, um, friendly, motherly, modest?...

Shirts- I've pretty much given up on you too.  You either hang straight so I look like a box, or you hug so close my buttons pucker and my arms can't move.  You are either too short or too long.  I've been thinking tank tops look great with skirts and can be layered with a sweater.  So, shirts, call me when we can get along, I'm not liking you much now.  Tanktops- please hug my boobs and awesome 33 inch waist- but no so much  that I look like I was poured into you.  No one wants to see my backfat pushing against your fibers.  Just skim my body gently, thank you.

Bras- it is your job to hold the girls up.  I really don't need he girls pushed strangely into the center of my chest to create "cleavage" and chest skin wrinkles.  I don't need you pushing out weird fat bumps near my underarm or on my back.  Just do your job, proudly.

undies- really, you know what not to do- don't pinch, pucker, or ride up.  Do look attractive and do whatever undies are supposed to do.

Clothes- I'm telling you, this is your last warning.  I don't plan on losing massive amounts of weight so you all can hang on a bone thin lady like the models 'clothes do.  I don't think I'll magically become a hard body.  You and I are stuck with each other (unless I become a nudist, then I'll vote YOU off the island).  So, lets just see if we can work together.  I promise to try the styles that are supposed to work for my body type (I'm  a pear btw), and I promise to try to shop in my size- especially not a size smaller.  I will try to get materials that I love like cotton tshirt material- breathable and doesn't wrinkle (it has a dash of spandex in it).  and I'll wear spanx for special occasions.  You try to just lay there properly.

If we can't agree- I'm switching to cheap cotton sundresses.  The look good with my flat ballet slippers anyway (I gave all the heels a pink slip until my ankle feels better (IF my ankle ever does)).

LOve, K

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Comments

Thank You guys! sometimes I just need to have a conversation with a bunch of level headed ladies to get the gist of how I am feeling and what the proper reaction should be.  A bunch of you made the same comment that my ever wise mommy made. (Avoiding the conversation was not denying myself, but rather avoiding an UNNECESSARY confrontation).

I capitalized unnecessary for a reason. A very good reason.  I've been learning to confront people for the past (10 or so) years.  I've been owning my opinion rather than just going with whatever the leader says.  I am normally a follower, or maybe more of a non-leader, I don't necessary follow idiots- I follow those I agree with, anyhow- For years I'd allow people to say things or demand things and just go with the flow even if I didn't agree with it.  I'd let people make racist jokes, I'd tolerate people stepping on me, etc...I was Ok with it.  Until I learned it was slowly eating me away.  I had to figure out how to make a stand- but that's a slippery slope.  I had to learn when to make a stand as well- and I am still learning.

  This is why my mommy is so good.  She is my unbiased observer.  Even if I tell a story with my biased opinion, she can still manage to see the other person's point of view.  She also knows when to hold them and knows when to fold them.  I value her opinion.  And yours.

So, I am glad I didn't react.  because that was true- I didn't need to.  It didn't need to be clarified.  I didn't change because I didn't publicly label myself.  Neat thing is that boyfriend's dad took the time to thank me for chatting with sister, for being part of the family, for interacting with the family.  That was cool, huh?   

ThankYOU! 

* and as a side note- Andy made me crack up in the picture comments.  He asked if my broom has tried to win me back, like the swiffer commercial's broom.  LOL. (Andy's blog is Eye Candy- he posts a picture a day).

TTYL! K

Monday, November 1, 2010

Random and Lunacy!

First Random- then I'll Lunacy. 

I think I am turning off anonymous.  I really wanted to make commenting the easiest it could possibly be.  I didn't do passwords and I left anonymous open.  However- People have been abusing that.  I have been lucky enough that blogger has a nice spam filter and gets the longwinded weird spam that is posted.  But, yesterday, under my pictures post (you know, the one that was just pictures- a bunch of them?) a spammer posted "nice post, but don't you think pictures would help your blog more?" then gave me some weird name.  That was posted by two weird names in two places.  What dolts!

I like the red hair too, thanks.  It's not gonna last long.  I have only washed it once and you can already see the blonde peering out.  It is permanent hair color, but evidently, nothing is permanent.

I drew twelve tarot cards yesterday- one for each month of this year (Hallowe'en marks the pagan New Year, so don't think I am monthly or holiday challenged).  It looks like a lot of the same crap if I don't figure myself out- which is part of today's gripe/lunacy.  One month really cracked me up.  Apparently, in July, I'll have rest and respite.  Duh- I do every July- that's when I visit my mommy and daddy and brudder.

OK- today's gripe.  Some of you know it yourselves.  Or you see it in others- that ever lurking broom closet! I thought I lived out of the broom closet.  I felt I did.  Until last night.  Story behind the story: boyfriend's dad went to baptist bible school.  He was gonna be a preacher.  He raised his kids with church and the Christian God.  In fact, I used to go to church with boyfriend and his dad when we were teens.  Current background:  Boyfriend knows my religious choices.  He cringed a bit when he found out, but that was because his last girlfriend was a wiccan and she left some bad memories. (she also was born in october and had red hair).  I haven't fully "come out"  to bf's dad yet- he should know- he's asked me if I believed in witchcraft and I said yes, he knows I love ghost and witch shows, I wore the darn witch hat around the house all week- but I don't know if he really really knows. Substory:  Boyfriend's sister suddenly decided to homeschool her 16 year old daughter.  She claims it is so she can give her daughter a good Christian basis in her education.

whole story:  Last night, sister and her daughter came over to give out candy and visit.  I asked sister how homeschooling was going.  She mentioned she was enjoying it and daughter really like that they were discussing other religions.  ("oh- cool" I thought) Sister goes on to say how good this was so that daughter can see how the other religions were wrong (not exact wording- I forgot wording).  I don't remember whole conversation- we ended up comparing Bible stories- Song of Solomon always cracks me up (My sister has no breasts, what shall I do when she is spoken for?).  I commented on how the Bible was picked from a bunch of books written by man and edited by man.  Some books were left out.  She said something about the ones that were left out were inaccurate (as far as I am concerned anything written by man is inaccurate and biased). She whipped out her phone and showed me the bible on it.  I joked that her god told her not to eat shrimp (somewhere in Deuteronomy) and she paused "what?  He's not your God?"  I switched subjects.

why?  To respect the boyfriend who most likely does not want me to out myself?  I think he asked at one time that I not out myself. But..wait.. That does not respect me, or who I am.  That is me being untrue to myself.  That is uncool.  How'd I get back in the broom closet? I've been out in school, at work (if asked), and to family and friends for quite a while.  When did I get stuck back in?  and why?

that's it- that's my ramble.  I know for my own good that I need to own who I am.  and I am not happy with last night.  I am not happy that I felt the need to avoid the question.  I am not happy that I did avoid the question.

How would you like to be asked, or feel the need to (being asked is actually a moot point anyway), deny who you are to others?  Would you like to claim that you are not a Catholic, or a Baptist, or a Pagan in order to fit in?  Would you like to pretend that you are a republican even though you are a democrat?  Or a boy if you are a girl?  Would you like to be dumped onto an island of gays and have to pretend you are even if you are straight?  Then why to we expect others to deny who they are, or to pretend they are something they are not?

ttyl K