Shelblog

I Quit

2006-03-03T23:38:00.000-06:00

Let's hope this damn thing posts.

I've quit Blogger. They've been wonky for two days now, and I'm all done waiting around for them to get fixed. My new address is http://shelbisblog.wordpress.com/. I'll try to get this blog's entries imported to the new Shelblog at some point, but with them being all jacked up, I'm not even going to try it.

Here goes...

Hero

2006-03-02T17:42:00.000-06:00

Every once in a while, I have these fits. They're a little like fits in the old sense of the word in that I have times when I can't control myself.

*Big confession here*

Every once in a while, I write poetry. I don't know what good poetry looks like [I usually can't stand to read it... too obscure for my liking. I'm a blunt girl.] which means that mine probably sucks. However, it is honest, and that's what I value most in people, including myself, so it makes sense that I would be honest in my poetry.

My favorite one is about Steve. Readers who don't know me in real life don't know it yet, but my husband is a State Trooper here in our home state. When I wrote this poem on April 14, 2005, we had just lost one of our troopers to a murderer who ambushed him in his driveway, all because he was under investigation for a hit-and-run accident that resulted in the death of the driver's best friend.

The trooper who was killed was involved in the investigation, and for some reason, the killer thought that by killing Sgt. Graham, he would stop the investigation [maybe, I really don't know what he was thinking].

It was the first trooper we had lost since Steve joined the patrol in January, 2005, and I still can't believe how personal the loss was for me, since I had never met the man. There is a strange brotherhood between cops. Sometimes it can be a bad thing [we've all heard stories of cops giving fellow officers 'breaks' when perhaps they shouldn't have] but for the most part, it is a good thing. I can't tell you how much it adds to my peace of mind that our city and county officers stop and check on Steve when he has someone pulled over.

They look out for each other's safety on the road, and that is a good thing.

Six days after I wrote the poem, we lost another trooper in the line of duty. He was on his way to help with a manhunt for a fugitive who had shot a deputy in the face. The deputy survived, but Trooper Tatoian hit a semi who was parked partially in the passing lane of the highway. The truck driver had stopped to help in another accident, and instead of parking on the shoulder of the driving lane, he parked on the other side. Trooper Tatoian avoided the accident, but couldn't see over the top of the hill, and rear-ended the semi. He was killed instantly.

In the first seventy three years' history of the Missouri State Highway Patrol we had only lost twenty three officers in the line of duty. In 2005, we lost four, bringing the number to 27. Cpl. John A. "Jay" Sampietro and Tpr. Donald K. "Kevin" Floyd were both killed by sober drivers who weren't paying attention to the road. In Missouri, we have a law that requires motorists to change lanes or slow down [if changing lanes is impossible] any time they see an emergency vehicle parked on the side of the road with its lights flashing.

The law has been on the books for around three years, it was put into effect after Trooper Michael L. Newton was killed in 2003. Both Cpl. Sampietro and Tpr. Floyd died because motorists ignored that law.

I was taught that it was common courtesy to change lanes when I saw some one on the shoulder, whether it was an emergency vehicle or not. People are so busy now that they forget to pay attention to the road. We all do it. Hell, I get distracted sometimes, too. But nothing you do in your car is worth the life of another.

Each of the troopers who died last year left behind families. Sgt. Graham left his fiancee and a four year old son. Tpr. Tatoian left a wife and three kids, including an eight month old son who will never have his own memories of his father. Cpl. Sampietro left a wife and two young sons, ages four and ten months. Tpr. Floyd left a wife and two teenaged kids.

My kids are eight, five, and two. To say that these deaths hit too close to home for me is an understatement. And sometimes when I feel stuff a little too much, I feel the need to write a poem about it.

The poem isn't about the troopers who were killed, but it is about my husband, who really is my hero.

Hero

By Shelbi

Sleep pants, t-shirt
Fuzzy morning hair
He plays
Feeding Kids
He laughs
Changing diapers
He cries
When it hurts
He sings
About everything

Midnight blue
Stressed-out mom
Vent sessions
He listens
Holds me close
“I love you”
Ten years together
I see in his eyes
He still means it

So proud of him
For reaching the goal
Living his dream
To protect and serve
I know the danger
But how could I say “no?”
It changed my life
Watching him succeed
Made me believe
In myself
For the first time

Change comes
With the uniform
No longer just my safe,
Precious husband.
Quiet confidence
A layer of steel
Compassion, danger
Servant and protector
Of the nameless public

He catches “bad guys”
But mostly good people
Making bad choices
Tough decisions
Routine with this job
Change lives in an instant
Maybe mine
If someone forgets
Takes it personal
Becomes a coward
And Fights

Twenty-seven
Have made the ultimate sacrifice
Not a day goes by
That I don’t remember
Think of their families
And pray
That such pain
Never becomes mine

No guarantees
In this life
So I cherish each day
And pray for another
With him
Every time I hear
His key in the lock
Relief rests
On silent wings
And I go to welcome
My hero Home

I love you, Stevie.

Shelbi's First Sex Post

2006-03-02T00:03:00.000-06:00

Okay, I actually posted something last night, but Blogger Blew up again, apparently.

What I said was:

"Um, actually what this means is that I'm not blogging tonight so I can have sex with my husband.

He's doing the happy dance, so I'd better go.

Have a wonderful evening, everybody."

*Yeah, well, I was in a hurry last night, so I didn't fix it when I realized Blogger shot the shit again. It was taking about five minutes to load a page, so I was going to have to wait another 15 minutes or so to see if I could try to post my entry again.

I may actually do a sex post at some point, though. It's just about the only topic I haven't blogged about, so we have to go there eventually, right?*

Right now, we're in the midst of breakfast, so I'll talk to you later.

Something Worth Doing

2006-02-28T22:43:00.000-06:00

The bottom part of this message is canned, but I hope you'll take the time to read it and think about responding.

Please take the time to go sign the petition. I don't know how much good these things do, but it will only take 30 seconds of your time, and if it does something good, then it's worth it.

We, the people, must send a clear message to our current president that he is not the king of the world. We have a responsibility to speak up or we very well may lose the right to say anything against our government.

The things that the Bush administration has allowed and even encouraged in the name of the War on Terror is nothing short of evil. Torturing detainees for any reason is evil. Listening to phone conversation without a warrant is illegal, and undermines one of the basic rights on which this great country was built.

The president is always throwing out the phrase, "The American People want me to..." but the thing is I am the American people, and I never once told him he could do those things.

So I'm doing a little something [and I stole the link from Doug, who also has an interesting post here about activism].

Please, take the time and go sign the petition. It'll only take a minute, and it might make a difference.

Here is the canned part of this message:

"I am deeply concerned that the White House has broken the law by secretly spying on American citizens without a court order.
Senator Robert Byrd has created a petition to investigate the secret spying and I encourage you to show your support by signing this petition.
No President is above the law and the White House needs to hear from us.
Please show your support for an investigation by visiting http://www.byrd2006.com/wiretap/ and signing Senator Byrd’s petition."

Thanks, friends.

New Strategies

2006-02-28T22:20:00.000-06:00

So I've been mulling, and thinking about some different things. I'm still groggy as hell from yesterday's migraine adventure, so I've been as close to a blank mind as I'm capable of getting.

There seems to be a lot of stress-related illness going on in my life lately. Has anyone else noticed that? I dunno what I'm doing wrong. Okay, I have a couple of ideas.

I haven't been meditating regularly. It seems like the crazier life gets and the more I need it, the less I do it. I haven't been communicating very well with my beloved, either, so I need to work on that. He's laying in bed looking at a Harley-Davidson flier we got at the Harley plant the other day. I should be cuddling with him instead of blogging.

I should be meditating. My headache is trying to come back, and my ass [as well as the rest of me] is tired. This might just be a cyclic thing with me. It's almost spring time, which is always when my depression picks up tremendously. Weird, isn't it? And then there's the hormone thing.

I don't know what my deal is with estrogen and progesterone, but they screw me up anytime I get some. When I'm pregnant, they screw up my heart rate, emotions, etc. And at different times during my menstrual cycle, they jack my world up too.

Of course, I don't know which parts of my menstrual cycle screw me up, because I don't have regular periods, and sometimes when I have one, I didn't ovulate the 14 days before the start of my period like I'm supposed to. I wonder if it's possible for a woman to be allergic to her own hormones?

We've got autoimmune diseases out the wazoo these days, maybe there's a hormonal autoimmune disease, too. I don't know. I'm thinking I should be better here in a couple more days. In the mean time, I've got nuttin'.

Ouch

2006-02-27T23:35:00.000-06:00

I woke up at 7:30 this morning with one of the worst headaches of my life. I took ibuprofen and tylenol, but neither touched the pain. At 3 this afternoon, I couldn't take it anymore, so Steve called in sick to work [no way could I take care of the kids. All light and noise made it hurt worse] and we all trooped to the doctor's office.

They gave me two shots, one for pain, one for nausea [threw up three times from the pain]. Then she sent me home with Zomig, which is a migraine medicine.

Looks like I've joined the wonderful world of people who suffer from migraine, and I am not happy about it. When I woke up from the effects of the shots, I still hurt, so I took a Zomig. I had some tightness in my chest afterward [looked at the insert and found out that's one of the side effects. Yay.]

Two hours later, I was still having some pain, so I took another one, which was what I was supposed to do according to the directions [after the second one was when I read the insert] The tightness wasn't as bad. I finally ate some soup at nine this evening, and am feeling better pain-wise, but I'm a little dizzy, and drowsy, so I'm going to bed.

I don't know how people with regular migraines survive them. This is a new thing for me. Today was the worst one I've ever had [I think I've had three total, and the others were taken care of with ibuprofen and sleep]. The second one was just last week. I really really hope I'm done with them.

Pain sucks, and I have it all the time anyway with fibromyalgia, but the whole brain on fire/pounding jackhammer to the skull/puke my socks up thing is a whole new category of discomfort. I don't wanna do that again.

Okay, I'm going back to bed now. Take care, friends.

Hunga Bunga Damn

2006-02-27T00:13:00.000-06:00

It's a thing in my family [my dad and me] to say weird words, come up with strange nicknames, and generally do things that some may find really strange. I don't worry about it too much, hence the name of this post.

I say, "Hunga bunga, damn," because the time got away from me today, and I got nothing accomplished. I skipped church, but that was probably God telling me not to go. We had a guest speaker [a former pastor of the church from before we moved here], and apparently he was horrible. One of my friends got so pissed off, she got up and left.

He was one of those 'turn or burn' preachers, and well, y'all know how I feel about that. I might have had to slap the shit out of a manogod, right there in front of everybody. I'm generally a peace loving girl until people start getting hurt needlessly, then I start yelling. 'Turn or burn' style preaching is just plain evil.

And the sad thing is, that man was preaching from a heart that genuinely loves God, and he's doing what he believes God has called him to do. How the hell is that possible? you ask.

I don't know how, but I know it happens. I know it happens because I was once that kind of person. Yeah, really. And the only way I know to explain it is to say I lost my way. I was seeking God, but then I thought I'd found him, and figured out what he expected of me [and others] and I forgot to seek him. I started spewing 'the rules' instead.

And the thing that still gets me is that I really loved God, and wanted to do his will. My heart was sincere. My intent was not to hurt anyone, but in focusing on rules of conduct, I couldn't focus on the hearts of others [or my own, for that matter]. I couldn't feel compassion for people who I believed were doing bad things because all I saw was the external. I couldn't see their hearts, so I looked at their actions and judged them accordingly.

There's even scripture people use to justify judging others, but it's taken out of context. The only person whose actions I have the right to judge are my own because I usually know if my motive is right. If my motive is jacked up, then no matter what I am doing [whether it looks right or not] is not pleasing to God.

But I can't see your motives, I can only guess. And recently, I've begun giving people the benefit of the doubt more. It's so much easier to assume you're heart's in the right place even if your actions suck than to assume you're hurting me because you're an asshole.

It is true that some people are assholes, and they like it that way [maybe] but I can't live my life in the way Jesus did if I'm constantly assuming the worst of people. And I've made a conscious choice to stop doing that. I don't always succeed, but I'm trying.

So anyway, I have to get up early in the morning [Steve's in a mood so we're having a 'work day'] so I'm hitting the sack. Take care, friends.

Feeling Lazy

2006-02-25T23:48:00.000-06:00

Um, make that exhausted. I'm still tired. My dad called way too freaking early this morning to wish the girl happy birthday. My dad has always been a morning person, and I have never been. He used to wake me up in the mornings for school by beating on my bedroom door and yelling or singing at the top of his lungs. The madder I got, the funnier he thought it was, so this morning reminded us both of old times.

That wicked laugh is still the same.

I'm a little nicer about it than I used to be, but I still got up too early this morning, so I'm tired.

I've got church in the morning [if I can manage to wake up.] Steve has to work, so I'll be getting all three kids up, and none of them have clean socks, so we may skip it. Have I mentioned that I hate laundry? Sometimes I let it go too long, like now, and we run out of stuff. I have about ten loads to do, and I've been waiting for the laundry fairy to come and rescue me, but alas, I think I'm gonna have to do it myself. Ick.

So anyway, I'm gonna leave you now, and try to go to sleep within the next half hour [wish me luck!]

Good night.

Long Day

2006-02-24T23:14:00.000-06:00

Stayed up too late last night [not by choice, I couldn't sleep. My new sleep aid kicked my ass and I couldn't wake up yesterday until the kids were screaming their heads off. That'd wake the dead!] It was, I dunno, after one a.m. for sure, but maybe later. After it gets so late, I stop looking at the clock.

We had to meet Steve's brother at ten this morning, so we all got up around seven. Which is five or six hours of sleep, but for me, that's not even close to enough. I do okay as long as I keep moving [which we did nonstop today] but the second I sit down, I'm toast [like now].

We did a brief celebration of Shaya's birthday, which is tomorrow [the 25th]. She'll be eight years old. It's hard to believe I've been a mom for eight years now. This time eight years ago, I was in labor with my first baby! That's so weird.

She's growing into such a beautiful young lady, both inside and out. I'm always so excited when she shows a bit of personality that is just cool on her own, you know? Like when she makes a joke that's funny it's pretty hit and miss with her and Matthew. They're into knock knock jokes, which I hate. They don't understand how to make a play on words, so it's just stuff like,

"Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Dog."
"Dog who?"
"You better eat your food before it gets cold."

Yeah, after about twelve of those during dinner, I'm about ready to start throwing things. We have to make a no knock knock rule sometimes [don't tell them in front of mom, she'll have a cow.]

But I love my baby girl [I love Matthew and Michaela too, but you know, this is about my eldest child].

I didn't get to enjoy Shaya's babyhood much because I had horrible postpartum depression. I had a very difficult pregnancy [maybe I'll share when I have more energy. I dunno if anyone is interested, but sometimes this blog is therapy, and there are still things that are hard to deal with about all of my pregnancies. The kids were worth every bad thing that happened, but being pregnant, for me, is some kind of special hell all its own].

So anyway, about a week after Shaya was born, I couldn't function. It was so bad, we had to live with my parents so my mom could help take care of her. I would have visions of throwing her against a wall, and other things that no mother ever thinks will go through her mind about her own flesh and blood.

I think maybe I understand a little too well how a mother can get so desperate that she does something awful. I honestly don't know what I would have done if my parents hadn't been able to help. My depression lasted for almost three years. I was able to function again after Shaya was three months old or so. We moved back home, and I managed, but my depression stayed pretty bad until after Matthew was born and I finally got some medicine.

I had tried Prozac right after Shaya was born, but it made my heart skip, and for whatever reason, the doctor wouldn't try another antidepressant. He wanted to refer me to a psychiatrist, but I didn't want to go, so I muddled through on my own.

If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't wait to see a psychiatrist. I needed medication, and I needed therapy, and I didn't get either. Shaya doesn't know that she didn't get my best, but I do, and I feel guilty about it sometimes.

But then, I feel guilty about my shortcomings a lot. I love my kids so much, and I feel like they deserve better than what I can give them. I'm not abusive, but I yell sometimes, and I get frustrated and angry. I always wanted to be one of those moms who stayed calm under every circumstance, never yelled, and always used 'teaching moments' [I think of Marmee from Little Women].

The reality is, I'm not calm most of the time [never thought of the fact that I'm a freaking spaz in good circumstances. Add the stress of raising a family, and it's no wonder I freak out sometimes.] I still want to be, and I'm working towards it, but I'm not even close yet.

So anyway, my baby's gonna be eight tomorrow, and I'm so very proud of her. She's a neat kid, and I'm excited to see who she'll be when she grows up.

Disorganized

2006-02-23T22:32:00.000-06:00

Hoo boy. I remembered last night that I got a summons to Federal jury duty in the mail about a month ago, and never mailed it. The thing says mail it within five days. I lost it. But then I found it, although not without some ransacking and a little freaking out!

Lord o' Mercy, I was having visions of getting arrested by the FBI and all sorts of crazy stuff. I hope they won't hold me in contempt for mailing the form back a month late. My 'term' is for the whole month of March, which means I have to call their automated phone number and find out if I have to show up the next morning [and drive about 60 miles].

Plus I have three kids at home that I'll have to stick somewhere. Maybe I'll get excused when they find out what Steve does for a living. I certainly hope so. I mean, on the one hand, jury duty could be cool, but mostly I'm freaking because I'll have to drive through the middle of the downtown of a Very Large City, which I hate. I've never driven in a big city before, and I'm practically having an anxiety attack just writing about it.

Egads! Change the subject fast.

Last night I was thinking about my first impression of Steve, and that made me remember the circumstances of how we met and all the stuff that was going on at that time of my life. So I thought I'd share.

I met Steve in April, 1994, when I was 20. I was in nursing school, and had been working in a nursing home in my home town [population was a whopping 819 people].

My brother Jeremi [remember, he has cerebral palsy?] had moved out of our house and into what was called an ISL [Independent Supported Living]. He and another guy lived in a house together, and they had 24 hour staff, one of whom lived with the guys and was their primary care giver. When the position opened up, I decided to apply since the job included neat perks like free food and rent along with getting paid hourly for working with the guys.

The application process started, and after two or three interviews, it was down to me and another guy. In the end, they were worried that my living with my brother would be a conflict of interest. But they were impressed with me, so they offered me a job working in the Center, but in different homes [and not as a live-in].

The guy who beat me out of my food and rent-paid live-in position was the man I would one day marry. I didn't stay mad long, because I realized that the job would have required me to lift two grown men several times a day without the aid of a lift. I'm 5 feet 6 inches, and at the time, I weighed in at 105 pounds. I would have died the first week hauling those guys around.

And Steve was just a nice guy. I wasn't really all that impressed with him the first time I met him, though. I remember looking at him and thinking he had potential to be cute, but he had his hair pulled back on the top and sides into a pony tail. It was all slicked back, and for some reason, I didn't the slicking back. I dunno, it was too smooth or something.

He was 22 and couldn't grow a full mustache if his life depended on it, but didn't let that fact keep him from trying. And he was all dressed up in a silk shirt and dress pants. Later, he brought out the cut up heavy metal t-shirts, and my opinion improved, but right there in the beginning, I remember thinking he looked like either a door-to-door salesman, or a Jehovah's Witness.

I had also heard that he was a Christian, and that just made me want to puke. I figured we'd all end up hearing about what sinners we were and how we were going to hell, and I wasn't interested. He had a fiancee who I had heard was a holier-than-thou type, and I figured he would be too.

Turned out, he was just a really, really nice guy [which, in my eyes at the time, translated to boring. I was recovering from that stupid Bad Boy obsession thing so many girls fall into, and I still wasn't convinced that a Nice Guy was for me].

I don't remember him ever preaching to anyone in all the twelve years I've known him. He's one of those people who just lives his life and lets that be the witness, which I still think is way cool.

He did make me a little nauseated when I was first getting to know him, though. He was too nice, somehow. And he made goo-goo eyes at his girlfriend [gag] and got this lovey dovey look when he talked about her [double gag, cause she was a psycho]. Sounds a little like jealousy, and it probably was, but not because I wanted Steve for myself. That didn't come until much later.

I hung out a lot at Jeremi and Dwayne's house [we called it 'Tenth Street'] and made my first group of really strong friendships. There was my best friend Becky [who is still one of my best friends even though we live a couple of hours apart now] and the rest of a gang of us who were all about the same age, and worked for the Center. Tenth Street was kind of the Headquarters.

Which meant that I got to know Steve pretty well. Aside from his freaky girlfriend, he actually ended up being pretty cool. He didn't cuss [I could give Eddie Murphy a run for his money, and did, regardless of who was around] but he did smoke [we all did] and he wasn't judgmental.

I had only one issue with Steve at that time, and that was when his girlfriend was around, he wouldn't talk to any of the girls very much. When she was gone, we were all good friends. And it wasn't that he was in any way inappropriate when she wasn't around, either, but she was a jealous type [ick] and he didn't want to give her a reason to accuse him of anything.

I can't tell you what a relief it was when she broke up with him. She came from a dysfunctional family, so she had major issues that weren't totally her fault, but she still irritated me. For the first couple of weeks after she dumped him, I was kinda the shoulder he cried on. We eventually became best friends, and were going along fine, keeping it platonic [with no intent for anything more on either side] until my friend Bec told me, "You two are gonna end up together, you do realize that, don't you Shel?"

"No way, we're just friends," I told her, but the seeds were planted. Within two months [November 30, 1994, to be exact], we were making out like crazy. By the time New Year's rolled around, I was pretty sure he was 'the one' [okay, I knew it without a doubt... I'm weird like that, though. Sometimes I just know things, and that was one of 'em].

Some time in April or May, 1995, I proposed to Steve. You have to understand, though, I'm impatient as hell, and if I'd waited for Steve to get around to proposing, we might still not be married. The boy is sloooowww sometimes. So I proposed, and he said yes. We were going to set a date in December [It seems like Steve wanted to give his family some time to get used to the idea of him getting married again. He got married when he was 19, and it was a nightmare, so they were understandably gun shy.]

But again, I got impatient. I wanted to go to a judge and just do it, but Steve wanted to be married by a pastor. I didn't really care that much, so I agreed, but we moved the date up to August 19, 1995, chosen strictly because it fell on a Saturday, and you have to get married on a Saturday, right?

Steve had been raised a Nazarene, and it turned out that the Nazarene church in our town had a brand new pastor [I think he had come in April or June of 1995] so we went there, did the premarital counselling, and got married.

We've had loads of ups and downs since then [perhaps I'll tell you about our first year together some time. Hoo boy, it's a wonder he survived!] but every year, we've grown closer, and this marriage thing just keeps getting better.

But don't misunderstand me, it's freaking hard work to stay vigilant, and make sure that there are no walls building up between us. I'm probably paranoid about the health of our relationship and our communication, but I'd rather err on the side of caution in this area. If anything feels even a little off [and even if it ends up being my imagination] I'll stay up talking it out until I figure out what's going on. Enough about that for now.

I was right about one thing, though. Steve is a really, really nice guy, but he's not the least bit boring. And...

*embarrassing admission here*

I kinda like it when he makes goo goo eyes at me! ;-)

So I Took a New Sleep Aid

2006-02-22T22:45:00.000-06:00

Generic Unisom. We'll see if I can wake up in the morning. Benadryl wipes me out and it takes forever for me to wake up after I've taken it.

I've been having severe [for me, at least] insomnia pretty much constantly since November. Makes me remember why I chose to shut my brain down for so long. I've always had a hard time falling asleep. Sometimes it can take four hours or more, but mostly it's just one or two hours. My dearly beloved has no clue what this is like. For him, insomnia is ten to fifteen minutes. Unbelievable.

So I was looking up some stuff on the net after I took my new med, and now I'm sleepy. Really sleepy. Which is good, and yet I'm a little brain dead.

I think I'm gonna have to have a discussion with the hubby, too. I've been having some tension lately that I think we need to take care of. You ever have those days where nothing you significant other does is right? I'm still feeling bitchy, I guess.

One other topic, and I gotta go. I'm still working on how to proceed with the novel, but I do appreciate your comments [with the possible exception of Doug, since he picked the one I'd planned to do all along in addition to one of the others. I told Steve about it, and he thought it was really funny. Maybe that's why he's on my shit list... hmm. Nah, just kidding.;-)]

I think I'm gonna stick it all in a Word file and read it through once to see if I missed more scenes. I feel like I'm forgetting something, so maybe if I read it, it will refresh my memory as to what the hell I was going to do. Then I'll take some notes about upcoming scenes and take off again.

Never fear, I will finish it. I'm just going to have to regroup a little. I'm feeling pretty optimistic now. Maybe it's the drugs [har har] maybe it's just relief of having a direction again. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow.

I was thinking about my first impression of Steve last night [we met for the first time almost twelve years ago. Jeez, it seems like forever and just yesterday all at the same time.] I may do some "memoirist bullshit" [more words shamelessly stolen from Doug] tomorrow.

'Kay, G'night.

Oh My, That Was Rather Pleasant

2006-02-21T09:58:00.000-06:00

I'm back. I enjoyed my "time off." I actually got a couple of days without the kids over the weekend, so it was really like days off. Of course that just means that Steve and I ran like maniacs to get some stuff done while the kids were gone.

It wasn't really a long enough break [I mean time without the kids, not blogging.] It's hard to admit, but since I stay at home with them, it takes a lot longer than a couple of days for me to miss them. I hadn't even caught my breath, and they were home.

It's weird, if one is gone, but the others are at home, I miss the one almost immediately. But when they're all gone, I don't even know what it's like to miss them, because they've never been gone long enough. I'm sure it takes more than four days, though.

I almost feel guilty saying that, and I may be the only SAHM in the country who doesn't miss their kids right away, but it's the truth. I love them, but they wear me out. I feel a lot like taffy, being pulled in all directions all the time.

Maybe it'll make me sweeter in the long run, but right now I'm just all stretched out. Two of the three have colds, which we've all been dealing with almost constantly since Christmas. I've been sick twice [or maybe three times] and Steve's been sick three times, all three kids have been sick about three times each, too, so we're a bunch of freaking snot factories.

I don't know what the deal is this winter. Everybody has been sick all season long. I bought some vitamin C in the hopes it'll help us all get better. I'm about ready to go get some herbs, charms, and whatever else I can find to ward off this crap [just so you know, that was a little hyperbole].

Okay, so anyway, I was going to blog last night, but I was reading Threads of Malice by Tamara Siler Jones. I couldn't stop until I finished it, so I didn't do much of anything yesterday but read.

Oh my gosh, what a story! It's disturbing and gory, so if those kinds of things bother you, don't read it. But if you like a ripping good story, I highly recommend it. Never a dull moment. I liked the characters, so when bad things happened to them [and none of the characters were spared] I felt sympathy for them, and worried about them.

Jones writes 'forensic fantasy,' which is like CSI with magic. I don't know if any one else on the planet writes that kind of book, but Jones does a mighty fine job. She kept me guessing as to who the bad guy was until well into the middle of the book. I'd been forewarned that somebody was going to end up dead, and it ended up being the one I least expected. Both of those things are rare, so I really enjoyed Threads.

I probably sound jaded, but I read so much that books rarely surprise me, and unless the author leaves no clues whatsoever and picks a bad guy that isn't even mentioned until the Big Reveal [which is CHEATING and rude, and not at all cool, by the way] I can almost always pick him or her out from their first or second mention in the story. I do the same thing with movies. It's just one of those things, you know?

There were also some romantic elements in the story, which was cool, too. I'm finding that mostly like stories where romance is a side effect, rather than the main plot. I still read romance novels, but there has to be something else in the story for me to really enjoy it. Humor is a big thing for me [not much of that in Threads, but it was so good in other aspects, it didn't matter much. That, and the subject matter didn't lend itself to much humor. There were a couple of funny scenes, though, and that makes me all the more impressed with Jones. I think I'm a fan!]

So, Threads of Malice was the first book I've read by Tamara Siler Jones [I won it from her, and she even signed it, how cool is that?] It is the second in the series, so I have to go buy number one [Ghosts in the Snow] now, and when number three [Valley of the Soul] comes out, I'll be getting that one, too.

I've been gradually expanding my fiction buying simply because I read these authors' blogs, and want to support them in their work. I usually feel guilty buying fiction because it's just for enjoyment [although I can justify it as 'research' hee hee], but since I've been reading authors' blogs, I've learned so much about writing, and I see their struggles and don't feel quite as alone in my own.

So I buy books that I might not have picked out on my own, and when I end up loving the books, I get really excited. [With Paperback Writer, it's a little disconcerting, though, because she has over 30 books in print! I'm buying her new stuff, and wishing my local library would carry more of her backlist. I think I'll put in a request, don't know why I didn't think of that before. Chalk it up to brainrot.]

But anyway, writing is a weird thing. I love it, but I angst too much [heh, which is why I needed a vacation from blogging. Pitiful, ain't it?] I'm a little neurotic, I guess. Artsy-fartsy types are notorious for being melodramatic, and I'm more than a little disturbed that I kinda fall into that category.

I spent a lot of years stifling that side of me, but only succeeded in losing who I really am. So here I am at 32, still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Ugh.

I think that's why I love blogging so much. This is like my own pensieve. I can get all of the excess crap out of my brain and put it here to try to make sense out of stuff.

I can't always make sense of it [so don't feel bad if you can't, either ;-)] but at least I get a little release of pressure [keeps the brain from exploding, which is a good thing, don't you think?]

So anyway, my latest kvetch [thanks for the word, Doug] about my freaking book.

Ah SHIT!!!

Okay, I feel better. Not really. I think I'm gonna have to kick scene nine back a few scenes. It needs to be after about 30,000 words, not 9,000. I had always intended to have Thea end up inside the Company, and have to escape, but the other scenes I have in mind take place in the school, and I'm not sure she can come out of a freaking near-death experience and jello-brained coma and go back to the seventh grade, you know?

So I'm debating with myself what to do next as far as NIP is concerned. I could leave the story as is on the blog and start the edit with what I have [in private.] I won't be posting the finished product on NIP, although I may go in search of a crit group. NIP was always just for the rough draft, which is ass backward, since most writers won't let anyone near their first drafts, but my intent was always about just getting the words down, not trying to impress people.

I may do a couple of 'before and afters' later, and actually ask for opinions. Not sure about that, though. I'll probably go over to Forward Motion and force myself to post some critiques and then ask for some in return, but that's gonna take some mental preparation [the place is HUGE, and a little overwhelming].

I have no idea if my town has any writer's groups, but I suppose I could investigate that a little bit too. It's easier for me to do stuff online, though, because of the kids and Steve's fluctuating schedule.

Another option would be to put scene nine in the drafts section so it wouldn't be public anymore[and confusing to anyone trying to read the story in order], and continue where I left off with scene eight.

Or I could just take it down, and finish the book in private. I've been thinking about this option anyway, but with my track record, I'm afraid I won't finish it [and a couple of my friends might lynch me;-)].

I was also thinking about using NIP as a place to put short stories. I'm not sure if I want to try some short stories while I'm working on the novel. My husband [who admittedly knows nothing about writing, but knows me pretty well] says I should keep working on the book until I get the damn thing finished [especially since I have a tendency not to finish what I start] but there are several writers who work on several projects at once.

I wonder if that would be a viable option for me. Maybe if I rotate projects periodically, I won't get so frustrated and want to give up. Jeez. Confused much? I don't know what I'll end up doing. I know I have to finish Thea's story, one way or the other. Even if I put it in a box under my bed and never send it out to anyone, I have to get it written or I can never move on to other, better stuff.

Quitting is not an option.

Okay, to recap, should I:

A. Start the edit of scenes one through eight in Word, and continue the rough draft of the story after I get the first scenes finished?

B. Put scene nine in the drafts section and continue the rough draft from scene eight?

And my other dilemma, should I:

C. Finish the book in Word and stop posting scenes in rough draft form, and either

1. Delete NIP IT IN THE BUTT altogether [because who in their right mind would post a freaking rough draft in PUBLIC anyway? Nevermind that only three people are reading it.]

2. Keep NIP, but use it as a place to post writing-related stuff only, and finished short stories [if I ever write any].

D. Keep posting scenes in rough draft form [on the off chance that if it gets published, new writers can go and see my rough draft, and gain hope that they, too, can make their own first drafts publishable. with enough Hard Work and Determination, anything is possible].

E. Stop kvetching and get back to work, for crying out loud, it's just a damn book, not the end of the world!

[Just so you know, E is a given, I'm done whining for today. Tomorrow, however, I make no promises]

Okay, I'm a Dummy

2006-02-16T20:52:00.000-06:00

My neck was giving me fits tonight, and I still had some muscle relaxant from the last time this happened, which is good because it doesn't hurt any more. But bad because I'm typing five words a minute, and thinking about that fast as well.

If I was an adventurer, I'd try some poetry and see if I get all deep and stuff, but I think I'll go to sleep instead.

I did good though, because I let you know ahead of time I'm not blogging instead of saying "I'm sorry I missed last night," after the fact. I always appreciate it when my regularly read bloggers say they're going to be taking a break for a few days. I thought you might appreciate a heads up as well [it took me four times to spell 'heads' right. Yippee.]

Yeah, so imagine this post with a slurred voice and you got me pegged [don't worry, Steve's here to watch the kids, but they're in bed now, so it doesn't really matter]

Egad.

Just so you know, I've been thinking of taking a computer break [or more accurately, an Internet break]. I may be away from e-mail and blogs for a few days. We'll see if I can manage it!

I'd like to concentrate on Thea's story, and getting caught up on some book reading [I still have Collected Fictions to read, which I won from Doug. I'd put the links in, but, well, I'm sleepy.]

Anyway, everybody take care until I get back. I may be gone as long as Monday, February 20th, but I doubt I'll wait that long.

See you then.

Shelbi

I'm all written out...

2006-02-16T00:38:00.000-06:00

Well, now, this is a first. I spent most of the day carrying around my new QuickPAD, stealing a minute or two where ever I could, writing on Thea's story. I even took it to church and wrote there. When I got home, I uploaded what I had to the computer, and corrected all the [millions] of typos.

Here's the cool part, I wrote 1695 words, but it was only half of the scene. So I finished it in Word, then uploaded it to NIP IT IN THE BUTT. When all was said [er, written] and done, I had a whopping 3,169 words. In one day. That is my all time high for fiction writing [on some days I think I write about that much blogging on Shelblog and commenting on other blogs, but I don't do a word count here. This is just where I plague all of you with my whines, rants, angsts, worries, and sometimes good stuff, too].

Anyway...

I think I got some good ideas in it, although God only knows what will survive the edit, but I don't really care at this point!

I was able to think and plot my scene all day, and then, since I had my quickpad, I could type it all up instantly. Didn't matter where I was. That's just freaking cool, folks!

And way fun.

Thea had a rough day today. She died, which kinda sucks. But I finally got to write a scene that didn't feel like I was building up to something else. It wasn't in the original plan, but I was bored, so I just went with the flow.

Anyway, I don't remember what all I wrote at this point, and I don't really care much if it sucks, I'm just in awe of 3169 words! I may have figured out a way to finish the damn thing. Yay me!

Now, I must sleep!

Happy Valentine's Day

2006-02-14T23:04:00.000-06:00

Probably should have said that earlier, since it's 11p.m. now, and by the time most people read this it'll be the day after V Day, but better late than never, right?

Anyway, we all went to Denny's for dinner [had a coupon for buy one get one free dinners, and the kids eat free on Tuesdays. Five people ate meals for under $15! That's pretty amazing, don't you think?] Then we went to Wal-Mart, because that's what we always do.

Because we lived in a Very Boring Town, our favorite date was always going to Wal-Mart. The later at night, the better. Now with the kids, it's a little different, but things change. Anyway, I think I'm going to go cuddle with my husband now, so goodnight, dear friends.

But I'm Not READY!!!!

2006-02-13T21:35:00.000-06:00

Oh boy. Yesterday was loads of fun in other ways besides the puppy [who appears to be completely recovered and then some].

My seven year old daughter.

She's had a crush on an older boy named Peyton for almost a year now. When she first told us, she said she liked him because he had hair like Peter Pan [the live version from 2003]. We had a conversation about how you really shouldn't base whether you like someone or not because of the way they look, but look at the way they treat others.

She understood, but Peyton is a really sweet kid, so she didn't have to try to stop [thank God, we all know how freaking hard it is to stop liking someone after you've started. At least with crushes].

So for the past year, she's followed poor Peyton around, sat beside him every chance she got, stared lovingly at him with puppy-dog eyes, and generally made an nuisance of herself. Several times, she's said, "Mom, Peyton doesn't sound excited to talk to me like he does with the other kids." Oh God! That is SO hard to deal with.

How do you tell your kid [who you love more than life] "Well, hon, it's because you bug him by being all over him all the time." Without sounding like that? We tried to tell her the truth without hurting her feelings, and gently encouraged her not to tell him that she 'liked him.' I don't know if that was the right thing or not, but that kind of thing was never even an option for me, because I was too shy and afraid of rejection to ever tell anyone [but I did the puppy dog thing, and hadn't realized how painfully obvious it was to anyone with eyes until I saw it as an adult!]

I just didn't want her to get her feelings hurt by rejection at seven. And we did make sure that we told her it might embarrass him, and that might make him say things that weren't very nice.

So yesterday during lunch, Shaya says, "Mom, Simon* followed me around in church all day today. He kept sitting by me, and, well, it was really bugging me." She paused, and got this look of embarrassed understanding on her face and said, "Now I understand how Peyton feels."

Oh my gosh! We laughed so hard, and so did she. She was a little sheepish, but she finally got why Peyton was less than enthusiastic when she followed him around.

Last night after Bible study [Simon was there] Shaya says, "Mom, I need to tell you something in private when we get home." We've had problems with Simon being inappropriate with Shaya before, and we've had talks about, no one touches you where your bathing suit would cover, and if they do, you come and tell us, etc.

Last night, there were reports that Simon and Shaya were trying to go into the closet, under the bed, and I caught Simon closing the bedroom door [big fat no-no], and then I caught Shaya and Simon under the covers on the top bunk. Luckily my son and his friend were rolling around on top of them squishing the life out of them, so nothing happened.

Simon said, "We were just playing." Grr. Momma bear wanted to rip his little head off, but I refrained [it's tacky to kill your friends' son.]
"Absolutely not. You do not get under the covers for any reason, do you understand me?!"

Silent nod from Simon, grateful look from Shaya.

So I figured when we got home, I'd end up hearing something I didn't really want to. We put the other two kids to bed, and then we sat on the couch while Shaya told us her story.

"Mom, Simon told me he really liked me and asked me if I liked him."

"What did you say?"

"I said 'yes,' but then he told me he loved me. He really, really loved me and asked me if I loved him, too, and I couldn't say 'no' because I didn't want to hurt his feelings so I said 'yes.'

"Do you love him?"

"No." We talked about how she can't really lie to someone to keep from hurting their feelings in things like this. We suggested some 'let him down easy' speeches [Holy Shit! I can't believe we had to tell her this crap already!] Like, "Simon, I like you, but I don't really know you well enough to love you," or "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I just like you as a friend."

"Do you like him?"

"Well, yeah, I think he's nice. But I didn't know what to do when he said he loved me."

Deep breaths, Shelbi. The whole time we're talking to Shaya, we're passing looks back and forth, thinking, what the hell do we do now?! Then she said, "And after he told me he loved me, he told me not to tell anybody, not even you, but I didn't want to not tell you, but I told him I wouldn't because I didn't know what to say."

So then, we're thinking how would we want her to deal with an adult if she were in a similar situation. Egad. We told her to trust her gut, and if she felt like she needed to say she wouldn't tell anyone in order to get away, then she should do it.

Which makes me cry, because I don't want her to ever have to deal with something like that. No parent does. It's a horrible thought, and yet we have to have a plan, just in case, so she'll know she can come to us and tell us anything.

Last night put something into perspective for us.

She's only seven. She's homeschooled, and the only kids she comes into contact with are church kids. In a group of about 12-15 kids, there is a little seven year old boys who think she's a hottie. Oh. My. Gosh. My parents never had to deal with this. I had such low self-esteem, and was so shy, and awkward in my own skin, boys never gave me a second look until after I graduated from high school. It wasn't that I was ugly, but I thought I was, and people agreed with me.

So far, all of my kids are emotionally healthy. They're reasonably self-confident, and considerate [for the most part] and they just don't have the issues that Steve and I had as kids with shyness and low self esteem. Which is good for them.

But a lot like hell for us. All of last night, I felt like a blind person on a cliff, groping around in the dark trying to find something to hold on to. I don't think we did too bad, but I wasn't ready to deal with this yet.

Does it ever get any easier?

Don't answer. I already know.

*Not his real name

An Interesting Article

2006-02-13T10:11:00.000-06:00

It's called, "What Has Happened to America's Jesus?" Good question.

Go here to read it.

There are sincere Christians in America. Hell, I go to a church full of 'em [not everybody in my church is, but a lot of them are]. They are some of the most loving, kind people you will ever meet, and I thank God every day for the friends I've made there.

But I'm not sure I like the political activism I see from the more Conservative Christians. I'm not sure it's anyone's job to tell you you're wrong about stuff but God's.

If you ask my opinion, I'll give it. And if I don't know for sure, I'll tell you that, too [which is usually the case].

I think I understand the motivation behind their actions, but I'm not sure legislating more rules is the right way to go about it. You can't possibly force people to believe the way you do. It's human nature to run the other way when anyone tries to control you. And maybe that's not a bad thing.

Because what if, [this is pretty big, and I certainly don't claim to have all the answers] what if the uber-conservatives are wrong?

Jesus said that all the law and prophets could be summed up in two commandments: Love God [with all your heart, soul, mind and strength] and Love your neighbor as yourself.

How do you love God when you can't see him? Christians have a whole laundry list of things, such as attending church, studying the Bible, and prayer. And those are good things, don't get me wrong, but I think we focus so much on those things that we forget that Jesus also said "Whatever you have done to the least of these, you have done to me."

I think the best way to show love for God, is by loving your fellow humans, and yourself. It's okay to take care of your own needs before taking care of others' needs, because if you only sacrifice yourself without ever re-charging, you burn out and then you're no good to anyone.

But putting your own wants before your fellow human's needs is not really loving your neighbor the same as you love yourself, is it? Is it possible that by hating others, we are hating God as well?

This is a weird journey I've been on, and I think I may be on the right path here, but as I've begun to really seek God again, I've asked him to help me to see with his eyes. I can't explain it, and I certainly can't prove it, but my heart has changed in ways I wasn't expecting.

When I see two adults in love and committed to each other, I don't see their gender, or whether they have a marriage license, I see that they love each other and put their partner's needs before their own wants.

At the same time, when I see one partner cheating on the other, or being the sole 'taker' in any relationship, I see something that cannot possibly be pleasing to God. When I see anyone justifying hatred for or cruelty to another, my heart hurts, because that is so much less than what God wants for us.

When I see one group of people saying definitively that another group is going to hell simply because they worship God differently than the first group does, I think they've missed the point.

I'm not positive any more that only Christians will go to heaven [I do believe in heaven and hell, by the way, and I do believe that there is evil in the world, and I call that evil "Satan."]

I've believed for a long time that Christianity has so many denominations not just because people get pissed off at each other and go start a new church. That happens sometimes, but I think we have a bunch of different denominations so people can find a place where they fit in and belong.

What if there are other religions that perform the same function? Not all religions are valid paths to God [I'm thinking of suicide cults, and other cults where the god is a person who created a 'religion' to make himself rich, or to victimize others], but what if there really is more than one way to truly find God?

I don't have the answer. I wish I could say for sure, but I just can't. I know a lot of Christians are full of arguments as to why there's no other way, but so are a lot of Muslims and Jews. I think Mormons and Jehovah's witnesses believe something similar about their own religions as well. How can anyone really know for sure?

I've chosen the path of Christianity because Jesus changed my life, and then he changed it again, and gave me the ability to love people and see their goodness, regardless of their religion. But I've seen others have very similar experiences by following a completely different path. So I just don't know anymore.

My 100th Post

2006-02-12T22:26:00.000-06:00

I started blogging on November 13, 2005. By the time I post this, it will be February 13. 100 posts in three months ain't half bad, if I do say so myself. I read a blogger advice article that encouraged you to only do one post per day, and to make the blog about one topic only. Um. I don't think I could do either of those things if I tried [except at NIP, but I don't post nearly as often over there.]

I'm not really interested in following rules anyway. I'll talk about pretty much anything that pops into my head, which means I'm not very consistent topic or quality-wise, but I'm having fun.

Last night I wrote about our puppy being sick. There was something wrong with her back. She'd flinch when you touched her, wouldn't jump on anything, etc. This morning, she seemed about the same, so we put her in her kennel and left for church.

When we got back, I went to let her out. Usually, she's sitting up scratching on the door and whining. Today she lay there on her side, wagging her tail, but clearly struggling to get up. When she finally got up, she was shivering uncontrollably, and when she walked, she held her legs really stiff and took tiny steps. Her head was down, her ears back, and her tail was between her legs. Her back was hunched up, like dogs do when they have to poop. She couldn't sit down, and she couldn't go up or down the stairs.

I was scared shitless.

She was so much worse than this morning. I told Steve we couldn't wait until tomorrow, we needed to call the vet. He did, and the vet said that an emergency call was $100 plus whatever treatments they do. Well, like I said last night, I can't take suffering. I held Sydney on my lap while Steve got the kids ready to go. She was so miserable, I couldn't stand to see her try to sit down, only to stand up again when it hurt, shivering the whole time.

So I sat Indian style, and propped her butt on one leg, supported her chest with my arm, and cried like a baby. My oldest daughter came in and asked if she was okay, and I just bawled and said I didn't know. I held Sydney, stroked her fur, and I prayed for her. Slowly, she stopped shaking, and by that time, Steve had the kids loaded and we went to the vet.

When we got there, the vet checked her out. He felt her back, ribs, and everything else, asked questions, checked her poop shoot for bones or something lodged in her intestines [we don't give her any animal bones, but he said sometimes a bone can get stuck and they will hunch over like Sydney was.

We think she might have gotten hurt chasing the kids on the swingset. My oldest said that they ran into her in the big plastic swing with two seats facing each other and a foot rest [what's that thing called?] about a week ago. Looking back, she started acting strangely several days ago, but I didn't notice all that much. She was more affectionate, and played less, but I thought maybe she was getting over her 'puppy stage.'

The vet said that nothing was broken, and that probably she had just hurt a muscle. So he gave her a shot of steroids and some anti-inflammatory pills to give her, and sent us home. He said she should start feeling better by tomorrow.

By the time we left for Bible Study, she was able to jump up on my daughter's bed to watch us drive away [I decided not to keep her cooped up in the kennel, just in case the lack of motion had made her stiff earlier]. When we got back, she ran to the door to greet us, jumped up on us to lick faces and bite fingers, and was almost completely back to normal.

The cost? Well over a hundred dollars, we got her meds for pain, plus six months of heartworm pills, so probably around $150. But you know what? It was worth it. I was so scared she was going to have something so wrong with her it would cost hundreds of dollars to fix, and we just can't afford those things. Not for a dog anyway. I was afraid we would have to put her to sleep, and that would have been unbearable.

It's weird to be that attached to an animal again. After I had kids, I figured any pets we had would be pretty much just for them, and I would clean up after it, but not be that emotionally invested. Sheesh. Yeah right.

I'm Freaking Exhausted!

2006-02-11T23:46:00.000-06:00

I don't know what the deal is with my two-year-old, but she has been waking up every thirty minutes to an hour until four a.m. for about a week. Then she wakes up at 8:00 in the morning and all three kids bang around loudly in the kitchen [which is right by my bedroom door, of course] fixing breakfast [for which I am truly thankful, until I get out of bed and see the mess] fighting and arguing about who's sitting where, who's eating what, who gets which cereal bowl, and on and on.

So I'm a bit sleep deprived. I'm also a bit hormonal at the moment [I've got mood swings from hell, honestly. Pity my family, sometimes it gets pretty ugly around here!] So stuff hits me wrong. I yelled at my husband for no reason today, just because he was there, getting ready for work, and I hadn't seen him all day and now he was leaving, so instead of getting all cuddly and loving, I yelled at him.

Where's the logic, I ask? Far as I can tell, there ain't none, but then again, that's pretty much me. In addition to the sleep-deprivation, and hormones run amok, I've got a head cold that seems to be trying to make me cough up my left lung. I like my lung, and this pisses me off.

I need vitamins, I think, and maybe some NyQuil [if Steve didn't take it all with his cold]

Oh, and that's another thing. I just got over a cold one freaking week ago!

And there's something wrong with our dog, Sydney. I think one of the kids might have accidentally hurt her back, because she is having a hard time jumping, and when you touch the middle of her back, she flinches. I just noticed that maybe it was something serious today [around closing time at the vet's, of course] so we're going to have to wait until Monday to take her. Poor baby. I hope she's better by then, because I hate to see anything suffering.

I've been like that my whole life. When I was a kid, I used to find animals that the cats had partially killed and try to nurse them back to health. I had a mole named Digger for a day once. I wrote [in permanent marker] on a rock my mom had gotten years before [a meteor rock, I think] and made a tombstone for him. I think it said, "Here lies Digger. He was a good mole," along with the dates I had him.

Another time, we came upon a turkey egg somehow, and hatched it in an incubator. I named him Lucky because he was the only egg that hatched [or something like that]. He was doing really well, but I decided [on the third night, I think] to let him sleep in a Kleenex box on my bed. I fell asleep, and Lucky fell off the bed. When I found him the next morning, he was too cold, and even though I tried to warm him up with a heating pad, he died in my lap.

I was an extremely sensitive kid, and I was devastated. I had guilt issues over that one for years. For some reason, my pets always ended up dying when I was a kid [and it wasn't because I killed them, either. Lucky was the only one, and it was an accident, I tell you!] My brother and I had white bunny rabbits. We had three, two females and one male.

Rabbits are a lot like cats in that the parents [especially the males] sometimes eat their babies. I was nine or so when we had rabbits, and I still remember going out to feed the bunnies, only to find that mommy had given birth, and daddy had, well you get the picture. There's probably a King-esque short story in there somewhere, don't you think? We had cats for years, too, and I always freaked out every time one of the mommas were giving birth.

I would 'midwife' for her, [cat's purr when they're in labor, did you know?] and then put stuff over the top of the cats' basket to try to keep the males out. Sometimes it worked.

So anyway, we had our share of horrible pet deaths over the years, and I had the worst luck. I was telling you that my rabbit died, while the other two lived on to move to another home. My brother and I each had blue-tick hound puppies [their names were One Spot and Two Spot, because one had one spot and the other had two]. One morning we found my puppy [One Spot] dead out by the light pole.

My string of bad luck ended when I was twelve [1986]. Mom brought home a fuzzy little pound puppy who we named Laci. Laci was my best friend for a very long time. She thought she was human, so she was more like a sister than a pet. She died not long after my daughter was born in 1998.

We tried gettin a new dog a few times over the years, but I couldn't bond with them. I felt sorry for them, so I found them better homes where they would be loved. Sydney's the first dog I've really cared about and bonded with in almost eight years. Weird that the grieving process took that long for a dumb dog, isn't it? ['dumb dog' is one of our favorite terms of endearment. If a dog earns that name in our family, it means he or she is a Highly Esteemed Member of the family. Same with humans. I call Steve and the kids nerds or dorks all the time, and they know it means I'm lovin' em. What can I say? We're a bit odd.]

So anyway, I'm worried about the puppy. I want her better by tomorrow, because suffering of any kind hurts my heart, and I've had enough of that this week.

Okay, now I'm off to search out cold medicine and sleep. Take care, friends, and thanks for listening.

Rudeness Sucks

2006-02-10T21:47:00.000-06:00

I had planned to blog about activism, but I need to think about that one some more. Some things are hard to write, you know?

Tonight I want to talk about Rude People. For the most part, I can excuse a lot of bad behavior by looking at the circumstances of a person's life, and realizing that in a similar situation, I would probably act much the same. But sometimes, there's just no excuse.

And the sad fact is, Christians have the reputation of being some of the rudest people in existence. Even more sad is, the accusation isn't completely unfounded.

My husband was raised in the church, and when he was in high school, he waited tables in a restaurant. He hated working the non-smoking section on Sundays because the church crowd came in. They were rude to the servers and horrible tippers to boot.

I am part of an incredible small group at church, and when we go out to a restaurant, we always make it a point to be super nice to our server [even if the service sucks] and leave a decent tip. We know that Christians suck at this, and try extra hard to show the people in the restaurant that we are fun-loving, courteous, normal, non-judgmental people. We believe that our job is to show love to everyone, regardless of their political affiliation, religion, sexual preference, race, etc., and leave the telling them they are wrong to be [fill in the blank] to God [that's his job, and he's pretty good at it. Also, he doesn't convict everyone about the same stuff. Some sincere Christians use profanity, dance, smoke, and drink. There are people in the Christian faith who would say, "You can't be a Christian if you do those things." ~~Hogwash~~ Bullshit. What you do and do not choose to do is between you and God, and frankly none of my business unless you ask my opinion]

"31"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. 32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
34"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
37"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
40"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' [Matthew 25:31-40]

I think it's interesting that Jesus called those people his brothers. I don't think he was just talking about Christians in those verses. And yet, so many in the church today will "help out a brother in Christ," but they won't speak to or do anything to help nonChristians who are having bad times.

How is it that we have become so self-centered? How is it that we have forgotten what God called us to do? Why do we think we need to harp on about 'proper conduct,' and disregard the humanity, the "In God's Image," of those who are different from us?

And how can we, who are called to be a light in a dark world, justify nasty comments, rude behavior, or cruelty to anyone? We slay each other with words every day, and think nothing of it. We don't care who we hurt, we just want to 'tell it like it is.'

I am disappointed and angry at the rudeness of my fellow Christians, and I am ashamed.

If it weren't for my small group at church, I would be sorely tempted to disassociate myself completely from organized Christianity. Notice I didn't say I'd stop being a Christian. I do my best to follow Jesus because I have experienced his love and realness on a personal level. I may expand my belief system, but Jesus will always be the cornerstone of my faith.

I am really pissed off at some of my fellow Christians, though. We have made a mockery of ourselves, showing our asses [by being jerks] to people who are not members of our particular group, and in doing so, we have made a mockery of God.

I don't know how he stands us, sometimes. May God have mercy on our souls.

Rant off.

In other news, I finally finished scene 8. It's chaotic as hell, but I'm not gonna fix it yet. So slog through it if you're interested, and forgive the more-weird-than-usual-ness of this scene.

*Edited to add:

I wasn't going to refer to the actual incident that set me off, but after another bit of nastiness, I'm gonna stoop just a little. If you're wondering what in the world I'm talking about, go here. My main issue is in the comments, but I'm disappointed in the whole mess. I think you'll see what I mean.*

Oh boy.

2006-02-09T17:23:00.000-06:00

You fit in with:
Taoism

Your ideals mostly resemble those of the Taoist faith. Spirituality is the most important thing in your life. You strive to live by all of your ideals, and live a very intellectually focused life.

60% spiritual.
0% reason-oriented.

I took this quiz to see where I fit in in religions. What's funny is that even though I consider myself a Christian, the description is exactly how I am.

I took it again, and lied on a few of the answers, and I was a Buddhist.

Third time:

Scientology

Your ideals mostly resemble those of the Scientology faith. You strive to find the truth in all matters, but you also have a lot of faith in people and things. You are very logical, smart and charismatic and you value the truth above all else.40% scientific.40% faith-oriented.

Fifth time, making up almost everything,

You fit in with:

Judeo-Christian

Your ideals mostly resemble those of the Judeo-Christian faith. You have the capacity for immense faith and spirituality. At your core, you believe in justice, goodness and redemption.20% scientific.80% faith-oriented.

That's just silly.

Tests are fun, though.

*Edited to add: I swiped the link to Quiz Galaxy from Kate Rothwell.

New Toy

2006-02-09T01:47:00.000-06:00

I got a Quickpad IR on eBay the other day. They retail for $199, but I got mine for $79 including shipping [yay me!]. The AlphaSmart might be better [at least for some] but it runs anywhere from $130-$429 retail, and on eBay, the $130 one usually runs around $100, which isn't much savings. We're on a tight budget around here. I don't pay retail for nuttin.'

We did our taxes, and got a refund, so we can get caught up on some bills and fix a few things around the house [the septic tank for one, hoo boy, that's a story for another day]. We've almost finished putting in our dishwasher [that's another cool story about how good stuff happens when you least expect it].

Our next do it yourself project: new countertops for the kitchen. Our dishwasher sticks out from under the counter, so we had to put a board over the top to keep from getting nasties all over the nice cotton padding on top. If we do the work ourselves, we can probably get it done for $200 or less.

Steve and I actually work pretty well together, so it's kinda fun assembling stuff. And words cannot describe how excited I am about having a dishwasher! There are five of us, and we are a messy lot. I hate dishes and laundry most of all [soap makes my hands break out and the skin fall off, so I have to use non-latex gloves (allergic to latex, too... how I figured that one out is another story for another day!) so anyway, dishes are the pits, so I very rarely do them. Which means that George [aka Steve] ends up doing them, or helping me, and then I feel like a shitty wife, and get all guilty and stuff.

Guilt is awful. So, the dishwasher may very well improve my sex life [okay, not really, but I have this neat stat counter on my blog that tells me how people find my blog. I've gotten more hits for "Pathological Liars Anonymous" than any other post. So I'm experimenting a little. *Evil laugh*]

But now it's after two in the morning, and I just know that the kids will start bugging me before I'm ready to wake up. Either that or the hubby will decide that we need to wake up together and drink coffee at the buttcrack of dawn, in which case I will have to hit him. Hard. Unless I go to bed now.

Would you believe that the two year old just woke up crying? Argh.

Shelbi's Theory About Stuff

2006-02-08T00:50:00.000-06:00

Well, I've been thinking about this one for a while, and I've hesitated to write it, which means I'm being an idiot [that happens to me from time to time]. It's silly really, but sometimes I start thinking about what people will think of me, so I don't post what I really want to talk about.

But then reality sets in, and I say, "Get a freaking grip, girl! It's not like they burn people at the stake anymore [at least not in this country... Yet]. The CIA isn't gonna break down your door, you're a freaking housewife!"

And anyway, I don't think I really have a controversial bone in my body. Well, maybe the tip of my pinkie toe, that one's always had a mind of its own.

Okay, so here is my super non-scientific, semi-mystical philosophy on some stuff [I'm gettin' to it, keep your pants on!]

I believe in God, and while I don't have a problem with evolution, I don't think stuff just appeared and developed life on its own. I figure something had to make the first piece of dirt turn into a bacterium or whatever. But that's not what I'm getting at here.

Science has pretty much proven that we're all made out of the same stuff. I'm not a scientist, and I never memorized the periodic table, so I can't go into too much detail about that, because I really don't know what I'm talking about [comforting, isn't it?]. But anyway, everything on the planet is made from the elements, right?

I seem to remember something about carbon being involved in most [or all?] living things. But when you go past the elements, you get smaller stuff, and I think the smallest piece is the atom.

What gets me about the atom is that when you get that small, is it a solid? Or is it just energy? I'm basing my theory on the assumption that in our atoms, we're energy. So where did the energy come from?

My answer is, God. I imagine God taking some of his energy and causing the big bang. Then I think he directed things for however long it took, and eventually, man came onto the scene. I also believe that he gave the humans souls, or a spirit, which is another form of energy that is somehow housed in our bodies [that's what I imagine Genesis means when it says that God breathed life into Adam. He gave Adam a little something extra to go with his big brain and verbal skills.]

But fundamentally, we're all energy. Everything is energy. God's energy. Or divine energy, if you prefer. Oh yeah, isn't air made up of energy, too? If it is, then that means that everything is connected, the table, chair, trees, grass, dogs, and fish, you and me, us and the rest of the world.

We're made of energy, so what if our thoughts are energy? I think it's been proven with brain scans that something happens when we think and feel emotions, pain, and pleasure. Studies have also shown that when people pray for each other, they heal faster and other neat stuff, too. So if that's true, my thoughts/prayers can affect you. And yours can affect me.

I am also amazed at the fact that a lot of our medicines come from plants and animals [at least originally]. I think it's pretty neat that God created us all to be interdependent like that. But here's a thought. He put certain healing qualities into plants and animals, so why not air, sunlight, water, and earth? Hmm.

So when people talk about certain crystals or rocks having a specific energy, or certain herbs having healing properties, or meditation and visualization being able to change your perspective, or your energy, and in doing so, your life or health, is that really so farfetched?

Science calls those things the placebo effect, probably, but maybe there's something to it. My position is, just because I can't prove it, doesn't mean it isn't true. And also, just because it isn't in the literature [scientific journals, sacred texts, whatever] doesn't mean it isn't real.

The fact is, there are things we just can't explain, so we shouldn't assume that it isn't true just because it sounds weird, or we've never heard of it before.

One thing that has been absolutely fascinating to me is, as I've read books from other spiritual practices, I can see the parallels between it and the Bible. There are nuggets of truth in every religion. And I believe there isn't a 'perfect religion' out there. Not because God isn't capable of telling us the truth, but because we are incapable of understanding every aspect of who he is. I think that all [or at least most] religions illuminate some aspects of who our creator is, and what our relationship to him should be.

That's heresy to some [at least it is to the Abrahamic religions: Judaism, Muslim, {or is the religion called Islam, and the people Muslim?} and Christian]. I'm not trying to freak anybody out, but I really believe I'm on the right track here.

I can't figure it all out. Even the greatest minds won't ever get it all. But I want desperately to find as much of him as I can on this side of life, and I know enough to know that if I ever think I've really found out the absolute truth about who he is, I'm more clueless than the seeker who never finds a definitive answer.

'You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.'

Jeremiah 29:13 [NASB]

I am seeking him with everything in me, so I'm clinging to the promise that I will find him.

What A Day

2006-02-07T00:13:00.000-06:00

To give the full effect, we have to go back to last night, but go we shall.

Last night, I put the kids to bed around 9 or 10. My two-year-old went to sleep, but woke up after about 30 minutes, crying. Sometimes if I leave her, she doesn't really wake up completely and quiets down in a minute.

Not last night. She wouldn't calm down, but got louder. And louder [I didn't leave her to cry forever, but she got worked up pretty quickly]. So I went in and picked her up. She wanted a drink, so we got that, and I laid her back down and came back to the computer.

30 minutes later, she was crying again. I went in, she needed another drink, and again with putting her in bed. This went on every thirty minutes to an hour until four in the morning. I finally gave up writing at NIP around two. Hubby was late home from work [which can be a worry, I'll blog about that some other time]. So after trying to call him on his cell, I finally called work [which I hate to do, but sometimes it's either that or go insane].

Turned out he was fine, and 15 minutes later, he called me back, and said he was coming home. So when he got home, we visited a little, and dealt with the toddler [again, and again]. Finally around 4 or so, I went to sleep.

Some time around 7 a.m. my seven year old [who had been sleeping on the floor in my room for some reason] wakes me up with, "Mom, I'm throwing up!" She was. On the floor. In front of my side of the bed. I gave her my trash can to finish in, and took care of the mess [I also made her go lay on the couch, there's no room in our bed, and the floor was just wrong, you know?]

Meanwhile, I'm thinking, I've had no sleep! I can't function if I don't sleep. I'm going to lose my mind if I don't sleep! I tried and failed [due to interruptions from the other two kids] for a couple more hours.

The seven year old was sick, running a fever, and throwing up all day. The two year old has a cold, so she was fussy, and my poor son had to fend for himself. He ate crackers all day, until I finally fixed him some chicken noodle soup, with more crackers. I also felt bad for leaving him on his own all day, so I let him have some cookies, too.

After things calmed down a bit, I was inexplicably exhausted [then I remembered what I'd been doing all day]. So I decided to try to rest a little and meditate. Fifteen interruptions later, I gave up. [no really, it was that many. I will give you a detailed list if you want, but I don't think you do. Suffice it to say that all three kids and the dog were responsible for more than one each].

I put the toddler to bed, then the five year old. I cuddled with the seven year old for a bit, then put her to bed, too. If I were a smart person, I would have gone to bed immediately. I watched a movie instead. Then hubby got home and we visited, now I'm going to bed.

Oh, and cruel irony of all ironies, not one peep out of any of the kids this whole time. Just figures when I have fatigue induced brain-rot, they get quiet and I forget to go to bed while I have the chance!

Sheesh. Okay, I'm done whining [everybody take a deep breath and say, "It's about freaking time!" You're absolutely right, dear friends. I'm tired, cranky, and whiney to boot, but I love ya, so take care of yourselves, okay?

G'Night all.

Pictures

2006-02-06T00:49:00.000-06:00

Okay, this is the third time I've tried this, and if it doesn't work this time, I'm going home [well, I am home, but it's weird Shelbinese for I give up after this one last time.

Some of our friends have never seen my husband with long hair [we moved here a year and a half ago, and we cut Steve's hair about four years ago... jeez, has it really been that long?]

Anyway, I decided to post a couple of pics because I think he's the cutest with or without hair, and if I get to embarrass him a little, well, where's the bad, you know?

So the first picture is from our wedding day [before children packed 25 pounds on me, gave me gray hair, and all the while, Steve looked better, younger, and more buff. That's just wrong. But that's a whine for another day.]

The guy in the wheelchair is my brother Jeremi. I may find some more pics of him later so you can see his face. Notice the do-rag and long, wavy blond hair, if you will, though. Yeah, I got straight, mousy brown hair. You find me the justice in that! [Of course, J is shaved-head bald now, due to thinning hair, and mine still covers my head, so I guess I can't gripe too much.]

This one is from the day we chopped Stevie's hair off. He had been growing it out for 15 years, so we had a party for it. We called it, "Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job." He had been working as a tow-truck driver. The pay was commission only, and no benefits. Oy! I had more than a few stressful nights over that. He worked there for five and a half years [on call 24/7 with very few days off], called in sick maybe twice, and when he quit, his boss thanked him by not paying him the week's vacation he owed Steve. I didn't like that man.

Oh yeah, that's me after two kids. A little chubbier, but not too bad.

And this is the best 'after' picture I could find because we put all of our pics in a plastic box, which is currently perched on top of our closet/laundry room [which is also in our bedroom. I don't think I've mentioned here before that we have a Very Small House. Either that or Too Much Crap. It's a toss up right now.]

So anyway, I'm tired now and I promised Robin I'd update NIP IT IN THE BUTT. So off I go to work up a new scene. I'm writing past the block, dammit. And I'm listening to Nickelback while I do it!

It's not a scene, but...

2006-02-05T15:12:00.000-06:00

I updated NIP IT IN THE BUTT. The post has nothing to do with the story, and yet everything to do with it.Link's here. If you've got any sage advice, I'm willing to listen.

--Originally Posted by Shelbi at 2/04/2006 12:48:00 AM

A Public Apology [re-post]

2006-02-05T15:10:00.000-06:00

I recently joked that one of my [real-life] friends should use the spell check on his blog because he has a tendency to get in a hurry and misspell words.

I had planned on telling him when I got the chance, but I joked about it when he wasn't there, and several of my other friends told him what I had said.

It occurred to me that I might have hurt his feelings, and possibly discouraged my other friends from blogging for fear that the 'speller-Nazi' might come to visit their blogs as well.

If that is the case, I am truly sorry, guys. I like to joke and slam on people, and sometimes I can be insensitive. If I have offended you or hurt your feelings at any time about blogging, please forgive me.

I really don't go around checking spelling and grammar on every one just waiting for mistakes to crop up so I can point and laugh.

Sheesh, if you read this thing at all, you know I screw up regularly because the only thing I check is spelling [and that because it's automatic and doesn't take much time].

Anyway, to Eric, Lindsay, Robin, and Sarah, please don't stop blogging because of me. Eric, I apologize if I hurt you by slamming on your typos.I love you guys.

--Originally Posted by Shelbi at 2/03/2006 11:56:00 PM--

Blogger Is Having Issues

2006-02-04T22:33:00.000-06:00

Okay, I've only been doing this since last November, but Blogger has had problems three times in the past month. I don't know if this will post, so you'll forgive me if I don't write very long.

Blogger ate three of my posts, two here at Shelblog, and one at NIP IT IN THE BUTT. I have them saved in my e-mail program, so I'll probably re-post them when I'm sure Blogger is fixed.

In the mean time, I hope all is well with you. Things are better here. I'll write more later.

This is Weird...

2006-02-04T14:15:00.000-06:00

Two posts from last night are now gone when I try to post another entry.

Test Post

2006-02-04T14:14:00.000-06:00

Some people are having fits with blogger again. Just testing.

Ever Get A Song Stuck In Your Head?

2006-02-02T22:15:00.000-06:00

I stumbled upon a couple of articles about 'earworms,' or getting an annoying song stuck in your head.

They are here, and here. It was good to find out that women and slightly neurotic people have problems with this the most. I probably fit into both of those categories [okay, yes I'm for sure a woman, I was referring to the 'slightly neurotic.'

And speaking of neurotic. I have this neat little site meter on both of my blogs where I can find out how many people are clicking my blog [which is just as addicting as Googling yourself, moreso for me since my name doesn't even show up on Google... ever]. So I have to go check sometimes, you know?

But my favorite is when people comment, because then it's like having a conversation with the people who come over. So this is my hint, that if you want to, you can comment, see?

Very subtle hint, don't you think?

Okay, now whatever you do, don't think about that kit kat jingle [Gimme a break...]

Heh heh.

So I Was Thinkin'...

2006-02-02T16:17:00.000-06:00

You remember that old saying, "Your eyes are too big for your stomach?" I have that problem a lot, only with books. Specifically library books, because 'free' is good, and 'costs money' is bad, so I don't often go to book stores because I can't help myself when I'm around books, because I freaking love them, okay?

Heh. Some time, I'm gonna have to write a whole blog post in a single sentence.

Okay, back to books. I currently have 12 library books that I got a month ago. I've read two of them, and they're all overdue [our library doesn't charge late fees, and without the added incentive of a $o.o5 fine per book, per day, I can never seem to get the damn things back on time. What's that about?

I need to get them back to the library, because I'm not gonna read them all in the next two days, and they're all just lying there in the living room, reminding me that I'm every librarian's nightmare, and just plain irresponsible to boot [yeah, my mind really does say those things, but I'm not taking it seriously right now.]

I have a bunch of Christian fiction books I got on eBay a long time ago that I've never read [I got, like, 29 of them for $30 or so, including shipping. Who can say 'no' to a dollar a book? Not I.] Maybe I'll donate them to the library to assuage my late-return guilt a little.

New subject:

I won a book! Yay me! Books are my favorite, did I mention that? I won it over at Balls and Walnuts, to celebrate Doug's 500th blog post [come on, every body, "Ooh, Ahh." It's impressive, I tell you! If you don't believe me, try writing one of these puppies every day for a month or two.]

Ahem, yeah so anyway, the book's called: Collected Fictions, by Jorge Luis Borges, and until the other day, I'd never heard of Jorge Luis Borges, so I'm excited to learn something new.

I also received another free book from Brenda Coulter, who is also one of my favorite bloggers over at No Rules Just Right. She sent me a copy [autographed, I might add] of her latest book: A Family Forever. I'll blog more about that once I finish it. I'm right smack in the middle of it right now [got it yesterday] so far, I'm liking it. Not only is her main character named Shelby [albeit spelled incorrectly ;-)] but the main guy character [named Stephen "Tucker" Sharpe... Steven is my husband's name, how cool is that?] calls her 'Shel,' which is what my mom has called me since forever.

I dunno, that's pretty cool about our names, don't you think? Of course, all the other stuff is way different, but I'll talk about that later.

Shift gears again, dear friends!

Okay, this one is kinda weird, but it's driving me nuts, so I gotta share. Do any of you remember Robbie Benson? About a hundred years ago, he played a retarded kid, and when he got excited, he'd yell out, "Hot Damn!" Anybody remember that movie? I saw it on TV, and I was a little kid, so it was probably 20 years ago or so. I was driving home the other day, imagining something or other, and I suddenly remembered that character, and that I had an awful crush on Robbie Benson after I saw it.

Yeah, so if you can help with that, it would be wonderful, and I would be eternally grateful!

Okay, hubby is home and bugging me, so I gotta go.

Some Random Cool Stuff

2006-02-02T00:48:00.000-06:00

Wednesdays are exhausting. Crowds are hard for me, so church stuff wears me out. That, coupled with my son throwing up a little bit ago, has made me think I'd rather be sleeping than blogging.

So, I decided to look up online generators, and found this site.

And to be really lazy, I generated a random blog entry:

Welcome to the Blog-o-Matic. And here is your dynamically generated, completely random and copyright-free blog post:

Everything to know about Ajax

What would you say if I told you that there is more to life than to make more enemies. Why am I talking about Ajax, you probably wonder... OK, I will tell you something here now... Sometime around last year my hair was silly. Yeah, just what it sounds like. Anyway. Although it felt more like a dream to me then. I stumbled upon a purple bird. Insert drum-roll here, because...

Read more...

Date: 2006-02-02 07:56:48 Permalink Comments (0)

How cool is that?

And then there's this one, which gave me a new name:

My Merovingian name is Theudechild the Feeble-minded.
Take Merovingian Name Generator today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

And then there's the Excuse Generator, which generated the following:

I got so absorbed in tracking down the sinister forces that control our lives that I could hardly function as a human being-- and then my boss got on my case COMPLETELY unfairly. I am so unspiritual sometimes! Anyway, I hope the cat doesn't have kittens this week

And this one:

I got so involved with this stupid flame-war on the Net that I could hardly function as a human being-- and then my test came back positive (a mistake, it turned out). I am so put upon by occult forces sometimes! Anyway, I hope my new meditation program clears up the problem this week.

Here is a Biblical Curse Generator, and I got the following:

"Take heed, O thou Amalekite dog, for you will be swallowed by a whale with excessively bad breath!"

So, go have some fun, and let me know if you find anything cool, okay?

*Edited to add, something went horribly wrong with my font size. I have no clue what I did, but I'm sorry if you can't read this. See above excuses!

The Wall

2006-01-31T22:27:00.000-06:00

I've hit a bit of a brick wall. It's the same one I always hit when I'm writing, and while I'm not surprised, I am a bit disappointed. I had hoped that I would bypass whatever this is by blogging my novel, but the self doubt and all the other negative self-talk bullshit I put myself through is right here, front and center, staring me in the face.

My depression has reared its ugly head again also. I yelled at the kids all day, and was generally a bitch to anyone who was close by [which was just my family since I didn't go anywhere] This could be partially hormonal. Also because I haven't been doing my meditation regularly. Plus I just got over being sick, and we've had an incredibly stressful time of it financially the past month.

I guess I just need to wallow for a few hours Then I'll rest, meditate, pray, and shower [water always makes me feel better]. I'll maybe blog about all this when it's over. For now, I'm done.

I'll be better tomorrow. I REFUSE to do this again. I will not be defeated.

Feeling Lazy Tonight

2006-01-31T01:20:00.000-06:00

Okay, I found a blog in a roundabout way through going to an atheist's blog and watching Christians [and not the brightest Christians, I might add... Why oh why do the smart ones hide and the dumb ones are just out there for the world to see. And point at. And laugh at. Ugh. Wears me out sometimes. And unfortunately, I'm not too bright either, so I fear I look just as ignorant as the others, but I digress... I was telling you about this blog I found!]

Where was I? Oh yes. I was watching [reading?] the Christians try to argue the atheist into believing [which never works, by the way] or at least I think that's what they were trying to do. And the atheist was eviscerating the Christians, because they couldn't really come up with anything logical to say about why they believed what they believed, and why their religion was better than anyone else's religion [yeah, if you've read my blog very long you know that I've been trying to figure out that very thing, so I'm no help whatsoever, and I'm just helplessly reading [and cringing] as the Christian finally gets angry and says, "Well, when the world ends, we'll see who's right, won't we?" or some such thing.

And then, in walks this guy, who is Agnostic, and he proceeds to systematically answer every argument the atheist came up with, and counter it with an incredibly intelligent, well thought out answer. And I had to laugh when the atheist, who had been giving all the believers a hard time for taking things personally and not really answering his points against belief, took the Agnostic's arguments personally, and didn't really answer his points for belief.

Religious arguments are pointless, because the very fact that they are arguments means that each person has built a wall around themselves to defend their own viewpoint, and isn't really interested in hearing what the other side has to say [political arguments are just as pointless].
so naturally, the atheist wasn't convinced that there might be something out there. I also noticed that his main beef was with the Abrahamic Religions [Muslims, Christians, and Jews, who, apart from cults, seem to be the only religions that say if you don't believe in their God, you can't go to heaven. Jeez, that creeps me out.]

He had some major issues with Christians in particular [I believe he was raised with them], and I think he decided that if the god he grew up with was the real God, he'd rather believe in no god at all. I only know one atheist personally, and we've never talked about his atheism [or my Christianity, for that matter] so I don't know what motivates most atheists in their belief [or lack thereof]. But I didn't come here to tell you this.

Sheesh. I can't focus worth shit tonight.

Anyway, this guy I was telling you about. It turns out he has a blog of his own, and posts regularly. He lives in Japan, which I find absolutely fascinating [especially since I've never been out of the country]. So anyway, all that is to say, tonight I read a funny post, and you can read it here.

Okay, that's all I really wanted to say. I had planned on giving you the link, and saying, "Here, go, read a funny blog, I got nuttin' tonight." and I go and write a whole post on other stuff [yeah, and I didn't mention that I started this post at 11:41 pm, and it's now 1:06 am, because I wandered over to Blue Gal's place , and about fifteen other blogs while I was writing because I got to reading and got distracted.]

Oy! I'm more absent minded than usual. I think it's because I've completely jacked up my sleep schedule again. I stayed in bed until way too late this morning, and wasted time all day until I went to "Artsy Fartsy Night" and drew an incredibly ugly picture of an old lady who I've never seen before [because she came out of my head, not from a picture.] Most of the other girls were scrap booking, but I hate that shit... No offense to those who like it, of course.

Heh, and to prove that I drew a picture, behold:

Okay, I'm done rambling now.

Ah, Hell

2006-01-29T14:07:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I'm reading around the 'net at some of my Democrat friends' blogs, and I'm reading about Sam Alito's views on Executive [the president's] power.

One article is here [specifically this paragraph: "A close reading of Alito's answers raises concerns that he might indeed be an advocate of broad and unchecked presidential power. If Alito fulfills these fears on the Court, he could support those who insist that the president's power in the war on terrorism is essentially unconstrained. And unconstrained power can lead to abuses--such as torture, illegal surveillance, or detention without charge--that undermine the core values of American society."]*

*Emphasis mine, to remind us all that these very things have been happening to people of Middle Eastern descent in our very own country, and in Iraq. This scares the bejeebers out of me, people! You can't do that to your fellow humans, for any reason!!

Another article is here. That one was written last month before the hearings began, and it focuses mostly on what worries me about Alito: Executive Power.

The conservatives are focusing solely on Alito's views on abortion, and have completely glossed over the fact that he thinks the pres. Should be allowed to do pretty much what he wants. It's called "Unitary Executive Theory" click the link for the whole article, but below is a quote about the Bush Administration. I'm gonna edit it a little because it's really long, but you can go read the whole article in Wikipedia [that's the link;-)]

"The Bush administration
This administration seems to interpret the theory [of unitary executive power]more extremely than the previous ones. As for what specific constitutional limitations on the judicial power President Bush may have in mind, there is heavy speculation that it relates to Professor John Yoo's position that the use of military force is, like presidential vetoes and pardons, an unreviewable matter.

President George W. Bush has applied the theory of the "unitary executive" in many of his decisions, most significantly in relation to its substantive element. Per the Presentment Clause, the President must sign any bill having passed Congress before that bill becomes law; the Bush Administration has often issued Signing statements to legislation signed by the President, detailing how the executive branch will construe the law.

For instance, in his statement announcing his signing H.R. 1646, the Foreign Relations Authorization Act, Fiscal Year 2003, President Bush wrote:

'The executive branch shall construe as advisory the provisions of the Act, including sections 408, 616, 621, 633, and 1343(b), that purport to direct or burden the conduct of negotiations by the executive branch with foreign governments, international organizations, or other entities abroad or which purport to direct executive branch officials to use the U.S. voice and vote in international organizations to achieve specified foreign policy objectives. Such provisions, if construed as mandatory rather than advisory, would impermissibly interfere with the President's constitutional authorities to conduct the Nation's foreign affairs, participate in international negotiations, and supervise the unitary executive branch.[1]
In effect, Bush stated that when it comes to administering the executive branch, any Congressional requirements are merely advisory. It is not
unusual for a president to release such a signing statement when he has concern as to how a bill he is signing into law will be interpreted in later court cases. Skeptics point out that he in effect uses them as line item veto although the Supreme Court already held the line item vetoes as unconstitutional in Clinton v. City of New York.[2]

One of the signing statements which has attracted most controversy is the signing of the McCain Detainee Amendment, prohibiting cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment of detainees in U.S. custody:

ÂThe Executive Branch shall construe [the torture ban] in a manner consistent with the constitutional authority of the President to supervise the unitary Executive Branch and as Commander in Chief and consistent with the constitutional limitations on the judicial power.Â

Since, under the "Unitary Executive" theory, the Commander-in-Chief
has broad authority to use his discretion in interpreting and applying the law,
the President has with that statement reserved the right to waive the
torture ban.[4]

The most recent example, in which the premise that any law limiting the
Presidents power is unconstitutional is advanced by the Bush administration
and its supporters, is the FISA controversy.[5] In the words of former Vice President Al Gore:

'A president who breaks the law is a threat to the very structure of our government. Our Founding Fathers were adamant that they had established a government of laws and not men. Indeed, they recognized that the structure of government they had enshrined in our Constitution - our system of checks and balances - was designed with a central purpose of ensuring that it would govern through the rule of law. As John Adams said: "The executive shall never exercise the legislative and
judicial powers, or either of them, to the end that it may be a government of
laws and not of men."

An executive who arrogates to himself the power to ignore the legitimate legislative directives of the Congress or to act free of the check of the judiciary becomes the central threat that the Founders sought to nullify in the Constitution - an all-powerful executive too reminiscent of the King from whom they had broken free. In
the words of James Madison, "the accumulation of all powers, legislative,
executive, and judiciary, in the same hands, whether of one, a few, or many, and
whether hereditary, self-appointed, or elective, may justly be pronounced the
very definition of tyranny."[6]

At present, the position taken by adherents of the "unitary executive"
theory, and promoted by John Yoo in particular, holds that a U.S. President in the exercise of his Constitutional war powers can not be restrained by any law, national or international.[7] Opponents note that such a stance, resembling the FÃ¼hrerprinzip,[8] is not unlike the one seen in police states.[9] Supporters reply that it is exactly the same war power that Abraham Lincoln used to issue the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863, in the face of Copperheads who called him a
dictator and sought his assassinatiSkepticstics are not convinced, since the Supreme
Court in Ex Parte Milligan had already determined that the suspension of Habeas corpus was unconstitutional."

Conservative Christians see a man who claims Christ as Savior and takes his faith seriously. They have been blinded to the truth that this man really wants to be "King George". Near as I can tell, Judge Alito is right behind the Pres. on this one [which renders useless the whole "Checks and Balances" thing.]

These men may be against abortion, and I know that's important to Conservative Christians, but they are not "Pro-Life." They want to be able to suppress our God-given rights [like freedom of privacy, freedom from false imprisonment, and freedom from torture, to name just a few] to forward their own agendas, and make it look like it's for 'our own good.'

My main concern here is that we [by 'we' I mean Conservative Christians] have been fooled into believing that all our dreams are coming true with these 'men of faith' coming into office. Bush & Co. have come in with their trumpets blaring about banning abortion, not allowing same-sex marriage, etc. in the hopes that we won't notice [or care] that they are slowly trying to give tprivilegeddged few' more power, while taking away the voice of anyone who disagrees with them.

This is exactly the kind of crap that Hitler did to the Germans while scheming ways to exterminate the Jews. We can see the horrid propaganda that Hitler released about how Jewish people were the root of everything bad in the world. He got them all worked up about it, and proceeded to take over the world, one country at a time.

Is there anything different in what Bush is doing? Yes, he's liberated Iraq from a horrible leader who needed to be gotten rid of, but he's also made sure that his personal choice for a replacement got voted in during the elections. Is it possible that Bush has called it 'Democracy,' when really he's just taken over a country by force, and is now ruling it by proxy?

I don't know it for sure, but that is what my gut is telling me. He doesn't seem to have a target for hatred like Hitler did with the Jews [some might disagree with that, though]. I don't think he's necessarily trying to exterminate an entire group of people because of their race. I think there is evidence that he's trying to muscle out anyone who disagrees with his tactics, though.

I think W. picked the conservative Christian party-line because he knew there were so many of us, and also because we were all so disgusted with Bill Clinton's inability to control himself in the Oval office. He knew there would be a backlash, and that's how he squeaked by in the first election. The country wanted someone who had integrity in his personal life, and was a professing Christian [notice how a lot of Protestants don't consider Catholics Christians? It's not something we talk about in public, but it's fairly common in private.]

So in swoops W. who, instead of being unsure about his faith, stamps it on his forehead for all the world to see. We even liked it when he said God told him to, because that's the kind of language we like to hear [I'm not talking about all Christians here, I'm just using some general terms.] We instinctively trust some one who agrees with us on the Big Issues, so we trusted W.

Before my foray into post-modern Christianity, and hanging out with and listening to more 'Liberal' people on the web, I agreed with all this stuff. I trusted W. with the best of 'em. And yes, I voted for him.

Both times.

I really believed that sincere Christians could be trusted. I foolishly thought that I could believe what they told me without looking it up for myself [most pastors will tell you to check up on them with scriptures and through prayer, and that, for some reason encourages us to take their word for it and not do those very things. Imagine my surprise when I did my own research and realized that I disagreed with most of what I had previously believed].

Dammit! I hate being lied to more than anything, and not only was I lied to by others, but I lied to myself. I wanted it to be easy, cut and dried, black and white. It's easier to believe what others tell you than to form your own opinions. It's way easier to sleep through this life than to wake up and find you were wrong, and then have to choose whether to stand up and scream it from the rooftops, risking becoming a pariah to the people you love most, or to roll over and go back to sleep.

Jeez, you see the kind of stuff I come up with when I'm gone for a couple of days?

I need a nap.

Woo hoo!

2006-01-29T00:35:00.000-06:00

Scene seven is up at NIP IT IN THE BUTT. I got 1,111 words in just over an hour, so YAY me!

I'm not gonna be able to get 50,000 words in a month like I'd hoped [I signed up for NaNoWriMo in November, but gave it up for blogging. By next year, I'll be so prolific I won't need to join! Positive thinking is GOOD, I tell you!!!]

But the fact that I got over a thousand words in an hour is pretty good, don't you think?

I bought Lynn Viehl's [aka Paperback Writer] Way of the Cheetah [which you can find by clicking on the one add I have on my blogs over to the left... Hint hint!] Is it possible that just reading it increased my productivity in one afternoon? I dunno, but I feel a bit like a cheetah tonight.

I also bought Holly Lisle's Create A Character Clinic when it first came out, and her ideas sparked an antagonist [bad guy] who, if I can get him down right, will be three dimensional. I'm hoping that you will be able to see that any one of us could end up doing the same kinds of things if put in the right circumstances. He's dealt with a tragedy in the only way he knew how. He's trying to make the world a safer place, but the means he's using is horrible. We'll see if it translates to the page [but not for a while yet, I'm still working on getting my supporting characters {good guys} put into place.]

I'm really excited about what's coming in the story. I don't know if it'll be done in 50,000 or not. I kinda just pulled that number out of the sky [probably from NaNo]. And I'm not sure it's going to be young a adult book anymore. I still don't know how dark this thing is going to get. I love humor in books, and I don't know if it's gonna be funny, either. The scene tonight with the vomit spray was funny when I pictured it, but who knows if anyone else will think it's funny?

Okay, I'm done with the angst-ing [I'm sure there's a wonderful Yiddish word for that, but I'm too lazy to look it up. Thanks to Doug for that link a while back!]

Anyway, speaking of lazy, it's after one in the morning and I have to go to church in the morning [I'm not missing Sunday School again, so I have to be there at nine]. I have less than seven hours to sleep!! Egads! [whine, whine]

And speaking of seven...here's scene seven if you're interested. Standard disclaimer applies, but if you think it doesn't suck for a first draft, comments are welcome.

G'Night.

Hey It's Good To Be Back Home Again*

2006-01-28T17:15:00.000-06:00

Welcome back!

We went to "The Farm" [my parents' house] for a couple of days, hence my silence in the great blog-o-sphere. I've missed this dreadfully! My mom is on dialup, and anytime there was a chance to be on the computer [i.e. when the kids and my crazy grandma were in bed] Mom was in there, working feverishly, trying to finish up some stuff that she can't get done when my grandma is awake.

Grandma has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease, so she's a real trip to be around. She has to be the center of attention at all times, so when mom tries to get anything done in a different room [or do anything that isn't watching TV in the living room with Grandma] she goes into a tizzy and basically throws a temper tantrum. It's exhausting for mom [she doesn't believe me when I say I have the same problems with my kids. Anytime I'm in here on the computer, they have seven thousand things they need help with, but if I'm in the living room watching something on TV that they want to watch, they all go to their rooms to play quietly. There has to be a name for that!]

Anyway, Mom's working herself into an ulcer over this stuff, and that is a Bad Thing. There is a lot of not-so-good history between them, and it's hard for mom not to take Grandma's behavior personally. I don't know how to help, and since I'm three and a half hours away, there's not much I can do to give mom a break now and then. In a similar situation, I don't know if I could have held out this long [it's been several months since Grandma moved in]. I don't know what the best course of action is, but I know that she can't go on like she has been. It's too stressful for her to deal with the constant verbal attacks, constant repetition of questions and statements, and complete lack of consideration for my mom's needs by my Grandma.

Grandma may not be capable of thinking about anyone but herself anymore, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt my mom's feelings when Grandma criticizes her.

Jeez, what an impossible situation. If you pray, would you pray for my mom? She would appreciate it, and so would I, more than you will ever know.

Thanks friends, it really is good to be back home again.

*I grew up listening to Country music, and one of my mom's faves was John Denver. Lyrics for Back Home Again are here. Every time I hear a song by John Denver, I think of summertime at my mom and dad's house before I started school [so it was before 1979]. I remember my brother smacking me in the head with his 'head wand' [He has Cerebral Palsy and is a quadriplegic with no control over his body except his head. Somebody, {can't remember who} worked up a helmet-like apparatus with a metal wand sticking out of it so he could push buttons on a typewriter, play with cars, and smack his little sister in the head when she got lippy.]

I think of those times and remember that I wasn't always timid, didn't always doubt my own worth, wasn't always afraid of my own shadow, didn't always struggle with major depression. I remember being carefree [except for the whacks with the head wand] I remember believing that I could do anything I wanted, and planned to as soon as I 'learned some stuff,' like how to read and write. I wanted to find a cure for CP, even at age three or four.

"Back Home Again" came out in 1974, which is the year I was born. My dad has played the guitar and sung since he was a teenager, and my mom made him learn this song. He never would sing it, because he was a Hank Senior man, but he'd play it and my mom would sing [slightly off-key, but who cares, right?]

She never could get the bridge right ["And oh, the time that I can lay this tired old body down/ and feel your fingers feather soft up-on me/ the kisses that I live for, the love that lights my way/ the happiness that livin' with you brings me."] She always missed the notes on 'fingers.'

One of my favorite memories is of being an older kid [I may have been married, so I was at least 21, which would make me an adult kid, I guess] and singing that part of the song with her, and doing it right! Not because I thought I was better than she was, but because of how proud she and my dad were that I could carry a tune! I hadn't sung a note in front of either one of them since I was five or so and my mom told me I was singing off-key, so they had never heard me sing until that moment.

Strange what a simple song brings to mind, isn't it?

Blogger Support for the Release of Jill Carroll

2006-01-24T13:50:00.000-06:00

This is one of those times when I don't have words to do it justice. Jill Carroll is the reporter who was kidnapped a couple of weeks ago. I found out about blogging our support for her release through Balls and Walnuts, who got it from Blue Gal.

If you pray, please pray for her safe release.

One thing that is pretty impressive, and probably under-reported is the amount of Muslim support for her release. Jill has written numerous articles about the effect of the war on Iraqi citizens. They give a picture of the humanity of the Iraqi people that is all to easy to forget.

Updates on Jill Carroll are here.

Please, please take the time to follow these links. My heart breaks to see someone's child in danger, even adult children. I wish I could do more. A few words on a blog and prayers for her safe return feel so insignificant, but it's all I have to offer.

I hope that God is giving Jill and her family a sense of peace, and some knowledge of the outcry for her release.

Bring her back to us unharmed, Father.

Back on the Writerly Trail

2006-01-24T00:20:00.000-06:00

Finally worked on NIP tonight. Yay, me. I got 1298 words, which is okay, but it took me two hours to get them. I think skipping a couple of days lost my rhythm, and I'm gonna have to work a bit to get it back. Also, I went back and finished scene 4, so it's a little out of order in posting now, and that made it kind of hard to get my mind around where I'm going.

I'm not sure I like the direction it's going right now, either. I had a scene in mind to write tonight, and a different one ended up in its place. I'll probably have to go back and fix it. I may go ahead and write the scene I had in mind tomorrow, and work it in during the edits. That will make it harder to read it on the blog, but I'll put some links in at the end of the posts or something.

We're all still sick here. Hubby's been coughing the whole time I've been writing, which makes for a peaceful writing session since the computer's in our bedroom. The two year old had a ten minute long coughing fit, too, but thankfully it didn't wake her up.

No, she only wakes up when I'm on the verge of falling asleep myself. I swear, every night she wakes up and cries just as I get into that wonderful limbo stage between awake and asleep. Almost makes me believe she's psychic.

Anyway, there's sleep around here somewhere, and I need to find some, so g'night.

Comment Spam, Still Sick,

2006-01-23T00:13:00.000-06:00

Well, folks, I didn't want to, but it looks like I'm gonna have to put the word verification up over here at Shelblog. I've gotten several comment spam messages offering me such drugs as prozac and skelaxin, both of which I have taken in the past by the way, but do not need right now.

Since I have a whopping 77 posts on here so far, and the little spam robots find old posts, I have no idea where they are, and I'm too lazy to go back and delete them. It's not a huge deal, but I know it's a nuisance for some of you, so I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

Okay, on to other stuff.

This cold I have is kickin' my ass, people. I have avoided getting really sick all year, and now this one is just tearing me up. I only got 3 hours of sleep Friday night [actually Saturday morning since I was awake until 2 am]

We got up at 5 am so we could get to the quiz meet, and then it was just crazy running all freaking day long, topped with dinner at Chuck E Cheese's [on a Saturday, it was wall to wall kids.

I love kids, but in small doses, and only when they're quiet [har har, quiet child is a complete oxymoron if you have more than two in one place, unless they're doing something they shouldn't]. I don't have a lot of patience, and I'm slightly agorophobic, so the crowd thing is awful for me.

It was fun, and we actually met some nice people, but public places [yes, this includes church] suck the energy out of me and once I get to a certain point, I can't function anymore and have to go home and sleep it off.

Which is why I missed yesterday's blogging adventure. Believe it or not, at 10 pm, I had to force myself not to turn the computer on. I went to bed instead, skipped church this morning, and slept until 1 this afternoon.

I'm still tired, which is the status quo for me, I know, but it really is worse than usual.

So, I'm gonna try to get some sleep tonight, and get back in the groove tomorrow. I've let this cold screw up my writing over at NIP IT IN THE BUTT, so I'm gonna have to get that going again. I'm still scheming about where we're going next, but I have to get in the habit of writing every day whether I feel like it or not.

I read somewhere that a new habit takes about four weeks to develop, and I'd say I have definitely started a journaling habit thanks to Shelblog. For me, just writing every day is pretty amazing [even though I've always wanted to do this, I've never been one to actually pursue a dream, or anything that might end in failure. I still don't know why exactly, but I'm working like crazy to change it.]

My next goal is to make writing my fiction a habit, too. I have no worries that the ideas won't come, I've got three novels I'm thinking about even as I write the first one. I just need to work on getting the words down right now, whatever those words may be.

Sheesh, the two year old has woken [is that right?] up three times since we put her to bed. I probably won't get any sleep tonight.

Ugh.

Witch Hunt

2006-01-20T21:36:00.000-06:00

I was surfing the internet and found this article. A conservative group is willing to pay UCLA students to tape and report on politically liberal instructors.

Then there was this one about the president defending his spying, and trying to expand it by getting a court order to make Google give up its statistics on what people are searching for.

Eesh.

I always thought that Republicans wanted smaller government because they didn't want the government to have too much power, and that Democrats wanted bigger government because they wanted the gov't to have more power.

What I'm finding out [at least with the Bush administration] is that the pres. wants all the power for himself. Is it possible that the real goal of having a smaller government is that it will have more control over more people, and fewer people in power to maintain a system of checks and balances?

Scary days, people, scary days.

On another note, I'm still sick with this gawd-awful cold. It hurts to breathe part of the time, and I still have the worst sore throat ever. I think I may be on the road to recovery, but man it's slow going this time.

I have to go help with a quiz meet [if you've never heard of Quizzing, here's a link] early tomorrow, so I think I'm gonna take some Ny Quil and go to bed.

I missed last night with the NIP, though, so maybe I'll set the timer for an hour and see what I get.

My Very Own Romance Novel

2006-01-20T20:44:00.000-06:00

I got this wonderful link from Kate Rothwell's blog, and I was able [barely] to get the thing to work, and what you see above is what I got for my efforts.

I imagine that some one with a little more experience in uploading pics and downloading pics and all the other crap I had to do to get this thing done would have had an easier time of it, but hey, chalk up another victory for me! Current score: Shelbi= 2, Computer= 1.

Not too shabby, if I do say so myself!

testing

2006-01-20T17:53:00.000-06:00

These two pictures taken from here.
Possibly more to come, I'm still trying to work out the bugs [mine, not the picture hosting site].

Posting pictures from the web is harder than from my scanner, so I'm still in test mode.

But hey! I'm not ready to kill somebody today! Yay.

Grr

2006-01-19T23:42:00.000-06:00

When my dad was about five, he had two imaginary friends named Damin and Hellin. At the age of five, he figured out code words for Hell and Damn, and called them his imaginary friends so he wouldn't get into trouble for cussing around my Grandma [who was a tee-totaler in every sense of the word].

I am still very impressed with his creativity at such a young age to get around the rules.

I don't think I got much of his intelligence gene. I can't figure out photobucket, so I'm gonna do the next best thing.

Damn stupid photo loading non working piece of shit thing non user friendly makes me want to take a freaking sledgehammer to this stupid piece of shit computer and knock it straight to hell...

Deep breaths, Shelbi.

Okay, I give up for now. I need to find a different picture holder so I can put pictures there and then move them here.

I don't think I'm ready for a website yet [egads! can you imagine?!], but maybe I can find a picture holder for dummies.

Sheesh. Thanks for trying, Doug, I'll have to come back to it tomorrow or I'll lose my mind [what's left of it!]

Heh, I blew up my page at Photobucket! Fatal error. Oh brother. My computer's acting weird, moving ssllowww. I think I need to do some maintenance. Spellcheck on this create post page won't come up either, so please forgive any typos. I'm not gonna do the NIP tonight, I'd better figure out what I did to the Beast first.

Later, y'all

The Master Artist

2006-01-19T15:26:00.000-06:00

This link comes courtesy of Balls and Walnuts, who got it from this guy. I tried to stick a picture here, but couldn't figure it out [I know, I know, I'm freakin' slow with this stuff]. I'll try again on another post, or edit this one later. Meantime, go look at the pictures, they're amazing.

Go ahead, I'll wait.

Okay, you back? Pretty cool, huh? For once, I'm speechless.

All I can say is, "Wow."

I look at those pictures and I am completely in awe of the beauty and artistry of God. And I am humbled at the same time that such an incredible Creator wants to have a relationship with me, when I am so small and insignificant.

Wow. Thank you Father.

The Sleepy Blogger Blues

2006-01-18T21:43:00.000-06:00

I stayed up too late writin'
Got up too early this morn'
Gotta go work on scene five,
Or is it six?
I really don't know!

Cause I'm sleepy, [sleepy, ooh so sleepy]
I'm sleepy, [sleepy, ooh so sleepy]
I'm soo freakin' sleepy [sleepy]

I got the sleepy blogger blues!

Ugh. This is where the rubber meets the road, kids. I'm sick with a chest cold. My throat feels like I've got an orange stuck in it every time I swallow. My voice barely squeaks when I talk, and my body feels like it's been hit by a truck.

I was up until 4a.m. [I actually stopped writing around 2 or so, but I couldn't fall asleep for a couple of hours]. The kids started bouncing off the walls around 9 this morning, and the two year old came in holding her butt saying, "Maw ma, I pooooo." You can't really put off poopy diapers even when you're on your death bed, so I had to get up.

Been up ever since, and it hit me at around 8:00 that I'm tired. I wish for sleep, with my pet Zeep , but alas, my sweet Zeep has gone to work, and my five year old is in my bed [uninvited, I might add] sniffling and rustling papers, and asking questions, "Mom, are we ever gonna go on a train? I mean a real train, not one like at [amusement park]. 'Cause that was a train, but not a real one."

You know what? I'm 32 and I've never been on a real passenger train, either [nor an airplane, but I don't really have a desire to get on a plane]. I guess riding a train should go on my list of Stuff To Do Before I Die.

Okay, I'm off to work on the NIP. Wish me luck!

I'm Hearing Voices

2006-01-18T01:44:00.000-06:00

No, really, I am [I mean more than usual, and not my own]. I had an interesting conversation with Miss Dorothea Watson today. It went something like this.

THEA: Hey you! Writer lady!

SHELBI: [looks around for the voice] Is someone there?

THEA: Don't you know who this is? [taps foot impatiently, click, click, click...]No, I'm not in the room, I'm in your head [mumbles something that sounds like "Jeez, freakin' scary writer! Why couldn't I end up in Paperback Writer's Brain?"]

SHELBI: Excuse me, miss smartie pants, she only writes adult fiction, and you sound like a teenager, which makes you too young. Who the hell are you, anyway? I thought I locked up Tyra the Psycho Ex-Wrestler Russian Internal Editor weeks ago [mumbles something that sounds like "And I don't think she's a teenager"].

THEA: Well, if you'd give me a VOICE, you might be able to figure it out!

SHELBI: Cut me some slack! [giggles and snorts as she remembers ROFs comment from earlier] I haven't gotten that far in Holly's Create A Character Clinic yet. I'm starting on the 'voice' section tomorrow, honest! Hey, you're Thea. Jeez, I knew it was a mistake writing about thirteen year old girls. You people are crazy.

THEA: [rolls eyes] What ever. I want you to look at something here [turns sideways and disappears...] You see how flat I am? This is pitiful. How am I supposed to jump off the page if I'm, well...do you see this?!?

SHELBI: Yes, I see it. But here's the deal. I've only got four scenes done, and it's just a rough draft. No one important can see it [crosses fingers] until much later in the process. Like after six edits and rewrites. We have plenty of time to get you fleshed out, I promise.

THEA: You won't send me out looking like this?

SHELBI: Nope, I like you too much for that, kid. Hey, I got 924 words in an hour today, which isn't record breaking, but it's good for me. And I learned boatloads about your history, and your parents' history, and all kinds of cool stuff. Plus, I wrote the 'Final Scene*,' just so I'd have a clear idea of where this thing is gonna end up, and I'm tellin' ya kid. You rock! [mumbles something that sounds like, "Now if I can just get the damn thing to sound that cool on paper."]

THEA: Yeah, no kidding. I know I'm cool, and you know I'm cool, but will they know I'm cool? Are you sure you know what you're doing?

SHELBI: Haven't got a clue. [shrugs shoulders, then laughs... Fade to black]

Egads [you ever wonder why some words read better than they sound? I don't remember where I first heard 'egads.' I imagine I'm misspelling some Great Egadian Tradition, but I like the way it looks if not the way it sounds.] It's late and I'm loopy, but I had so much fun today with Thea. We're working up to some fun stuff, so I can't wait.

*I didn't post it, just wrote a brief sketch of it in a notebook. Come on, where's the fun in giving you the last page before I get to the tenth?

Okay, bye.

Whew! Scene Three

2006-01-17T02:24:00.000-06:00

I got 895 words in an hour, which ain't too shabby considering that scene one and scene two were only 452 and 682 words respectively [don't remember how long they took]. If words flow like that every time I sit down, and if the People I Live With will let me work for two to four hours straight, I should be able to pound this thing out in a month or so.

And, I'm up to 2,029 words, which means that my magic little word count bar will start moving tomorrow [I'm gonna do it. Every day from now on, till I'm dead.]

After I 'pound it out' I will let it sit for a bit. And then I will begin the revision process, which will be extensive, I'm sure, but I'm actually looking forward to it, because I will have accomplished the First Draft, which isn't something every one does. Revision is just one step closer to publication, so I'm excited about it, you know?

I don't think I'm smart enough for 'literary fiction,' but that was never really my goal to begin with. And no one will accuse my story of sounding literary. Juvenile, maybe, but that's okay for now, you know? I guess what I'm saying is that I'm not holding any illusions here. This writing thing is gonna be hard in spots, but I'm really ready for it. And it's about freaking time, too!

I've just always had this dream, you know? And I've never been one to chase a dream of any kind. I've been set free to find out who I really am, and this is a wonderful adventure, let me tell you.

I can't say I'll definitely get this book published someday, but I will finish it. And when it's finished, if it's good enough to be published, great. If not, I'll write something else.

I'm having a blast writing my story. Right now, that's what matters. I'm not too worried about what happens after it's done, although I assure you that when the day comes to send it off, I'll blog all about it!

Oh yeah, here's scene three, if you want to read it. You know the standard disclaimer by now, right?

'kay, g'night all!

Holy Crapoli, I'm an HTMLer!

2006-01-17T00:06:00.000-06:00

Me, an aich tee emm eller!

In the comments section.

Where you have to actually use the < thingies.

And get the spaces and punctuation just right.

That's not easy!

And I owe it all to my new favorite blogger, Doug Hoffman over at Balls and Walnuts, and "rof."

I don't always understand rof the first time I read his comments, but I like him anyway, because eventually, I gets my poor old brain in gear and figures it out, and then the light goes on and voila! Brilliant insights.

Yes, I'm gushing. Over people I don't know outside my computer. But this is really COOL! SO CUT ME SOME SLACK, ALREADY!!!

Oh, and thanks a bunch, guys. I really appreciate it.

Did You Know?

2006-01-16T22:08:00.000-06:00

A TV in your bedroom halves your sex life? No really, here's the article. I never knew. I wonder how much a computer reduces it. We don't have a TV in our room, and if I let my husband read the article, we never will. Which leads me to another question. How many men in the world think they get enough sex? I tried The Mighty Google but the results weren't exactly what I was hoping for. Had to give up on that search!

Okay, shift gears.

Tonight, I was sitting at the computer, which was the first time I'd had a chance all day to be on it, my husband had a day off and was trying to burn a CD with some of his favorite songs. The stupid thing didn't work, but he had to go to a bored, I mean, board meeting at church, so he went to that and here I am... at last. Soaking up the rays from the monitor. Which has a strange discoloration in the lower right hand corner. It looks like a spot of green haze, which I can only assume means that the computer hates my husband and is very angry with me for letting him be on it all day. Did I mention that he was on my computer ALL DAY?

Deep breaths, Shelbi, Deep Breaths.

So, anyway, my two year old comes up and says, "Maw Ma, bee beh. Bee beh, Maw Ma, bee beh." Those were her exact words, and translated, they mean that she wants to go to bed. She actually asked to go to bed! So I, being the wonderful mother that I am, dropped what I was doing and went to change her diaper and inform the older two that it was time for them to go to bed as well.

My five year old son pumped both of his fists in the air and said, "Yessss! I was geddin' kinda tired, for a while now."

Oh. My. Gosh. That's two out of three who wanted to go to bed. That NEVER happens, people.

I'm definitely playing the lottery this week, the odds are in my favor, I tell you!!

Okay, another subject change. I read last night's post again [when I swore not to do that] and had to giggle at my repeated words.

"Wait-staff would come from all sections to see the rocking baby. She used to flip it over on it's back and then giggle like a crazy baby. Once she kicked just right to flip it back upright."

"The fact that she fell asleep 'reading' a book makes me so proud. I'm fairly certain we have pictures of all three 'reading' books as babies and toddlers. My seven year old is actually reading them for real now, which is really exciting for me."

Egads! Perhaps I should let my Editor out once in a while, just for special occasions!

So, I'm going over to Nip It In The Butt, to get a few words down. I'm setting a timer and I'm gonna type as fast as I can for however long I decide and hopefully there'll be something worth saving when I take it home to Word to edit it [after it's finished].

Wish me luck, y'all!

Ahhh!

2006-01-15T21:49:00.000-06:00

I love my children.

They are my favorite children in all the world. I love them dearly, and not a day goes by that I am not thankful for them. [you know what's coming next, right?]

But.

There are days when, after I put them to bed, I let out a huge sigh of relief. At last, I am my own again. Someday I will miss the constant needing, but today, I am relieved it is over for another day.

These pics aren't from today, but these are my babies. The "two in one bed" was discovered one morning after they had been told that they needed to sleep in their own beds [naturally]. They were all cute, though, so they probably didn't get into any trouble.

My youngest had a thing for rocking. She would bounce her left leg up and down to make her carrier/car seat rock any time we would go places. Wait-staff would come from all sections to see the rocking baby. She used to flip it over on it's back and then giggle like a crazy baby. Once she kicked just right to flip it back upright. We still laugh about that one. I think she was just as surprised as we were.

After she got too big for her carrier, we got her the rocking chair you see in the picture, and more than once, she refused to sleep in her bed and insisted on the rocker [especially when she had a cold].

The fact that she fell asleep 'reading' a book makes me so proud. I'm fairly certain we have pictures of all three 'reading' books as babies and toddlers. My seven year old is actually reading them for real now, which is really exciting for me.

Yeah, I love 'em. And they're all asleep now, so I have time to remember how much.

Ugh

2006-01-14T19:02:00.000-06:00

Last night's 'panic attack' was probably not. I woke up today with a horrible headache and nausea, so it was probably just the beginning of the flu. Oh yay.

Spent the whole day in bed with my eyes covered up [light and noise... Ouch]. I've spent about 20 minutes here blog reading [see how addicted I am?] and now I'm gonna go eat something and piss my kids of by putting them to bed before 8:00. Then I'm going to bed as well.

See you on the other side of this crap!

Tachycardia

2006-01-14T02:59:00.000-06:00

It means 'high heart rate, usually over 100 beats per minute in an adult.' I had it during all three of my pregnancies [along with panic attacks during my second, which included a heart rate of 180. Not fun.] I seem to be experiencing a bit of that this evening.

Probably a non-pregnancy induced panic attack [never had one before, but hell, there's a first time for everything!] Please note that I said non-pregnancy. I am not pregnant, nor do I plan to be any time soon [maybe never again]. Being pregnant sucked [I may blog about it sometime, and bore you good and proper].

But this evening, I am, well, panicking for no apparent reason. It was a difficult evening as we had quizzing practice. There were thirteen kids [not counting the three little ones who don't quiz] which made for a loud time. It was enjoyable, but exhausting.

And yet here I am, at three in the morning, blogging.

It's official folks, I have completely lost my mind.

Yay me!

I think I'll go meditate and see if I can calm down a little. Join me, won't you, for a few deep breaths and relaxation techniques?

Scene Two, I think I can, I think I can

2006-01-13T11:55:00.000-06:00

Well, scene two is up over at NIP [The name of which I have changed to NIP IT IN THE BUTT, partly because that's one of my favorite sayings, and partly because that's what my internal editor is doing to me.] The scene needs work. But I am resisting.

Oh, but last night, as I was trying [unsuccessfully] to go to sleep, I remembered that I forgot something crucial in the scene. I had already turned off the computer, so I didn't get up and change it. Eventually, I talked myself out of the crucial-ness of the detail. I don't know if I'll add it later, but I'm trying to figure out where I want to go from here.

I have a general idea of where the story is going. It's probably going to be a kid's book or Young Adult [YA], so I got some at the library to find out how much gory detail I should go into, and to get an idea of the genre.

I know, I probably should have done more of that before now, but I tend to be a little backwards anyway.

I know there will be elements of fantasy [or maybe it's spec fiction, not sure yet exactly] because I love that kind of stuff. I decided to do children's [or YA] not because it's easier [ha ha, none of it's easy, at least not for me, unless I'm blogging, because I just write whatever comes to mind. Hey, maybe I should do that at NIP?] but because it's what I really like.

When I was thinking about the kind of stories I love the most, the things that kept coming to mind were stories like Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, and the Harry Potter series. Yeah, I guess I'm just a kid at heart, and maybe a complete dork, but there you go.

I read LW and AOGG when I was a teenager, and those stories just resonated with me. I read HP as an adult [after some people said it was evil. I can't help it. You tell me something is Of The Devil, and I have to investigate to see for myself. I've found that it's almost never as bad as what people think.] Anyway, I realized that I still love kid's stories.

And I've found that my stories just end up having main characters that are kids. And the rule I've read about that is that your target audience can only be as old as your MC, and since Thea and her friends are thirteen, it looks like I'm writing a kid's book. Or Young Adult, I'm not sure where the cutoff is, which brings me back around to the library, and research.

This post is feeling a bit like one of those Family Circuses where the kid goes everywhere in the town before reaching his destination a block from home. You remember those? Yeah, that's me today.

But I'm working this around in my mind, and it just feels right that my MCs are teenagers. I don't know. We'll see where it goes from here.

You're welcome to read the new scene, but with the standard disclaimer: It's a first draft. The scene isn't perfect, it's not even good yet, but I think there's potential, and right now that's all I'm going for.

Onward, dear friends!

A Breakthrough

2006-01-12T17:22:00.000-06:00

I e-mailed this to my friends in my small group at church, and even though I know that most of my readers are those same friends, I'm posting it here anyway, because it's what I've figured out about God [knowing full well that I'm not even close to seeing the full picture].

Hey all,

I rather suspect you guys have been praying for me, because last night I had a major breakthrough. It may be something that is a no-brainer for you, but it's put everything into perspective for me, and I want to share it with you guys because I'm excited about it, and I love you.

The whole point of Jesus coming to earth was love.
[But Wait, There's More!]

The point of God bringing the Law was to show us how to love Him, and each other.

After the fall, the people became confused and no longer knew how to love God or each other because of sin. And sin is just selfishness, in the sense of putting your own wants in front of others' needs.

So God looked for someone who was seeking Him even though they didn't know exactly where to look. First, he found Noah, then it was Abraham, and then He chose Moses to bring the 'How To Love God and Each Other Manual' to the people.

A few of them figured it out and were able to succeed a little. At certain times in the history of the Hebrews, the majority of the Jews at that time 'got it' for a while, and began to live out God's purpose for them.

But mostly they failed.

God brought the Law to the people so they would know what to strive for, but also to point out that they could never do it consistently without His help.

Then He gave us Jesus, who had it all together from the beginning and was able to show us by example what perfect love looked like. When He said, "I came not to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it." He was saying that he came to give us the ability to take the Spirit of the Law [love] and live it out consistently.

In other words, He came for no other purpose than to give us the supernatural ability to Love God, Love Others, and even Love Ourselves.

Most other religions have some aspect of this truth in them. They strive for goodness and love and eliminating selfishness, and maybe they succeed part of the time. Maybe God honors the fact that they are genuinely seeking answers. Maybe He acknowledges their sincere hearts in some way, and maybe there is a place in heaven for them.

But [and this is the crux of what I've been trying to figure out] other religions may find pieces of the Truth, but Jesus gives us the ability to live out God's love in supernatural proportions. He gives us the ability to experience the fullness of God. And that completeness is something you can't have without Jesus.

Something else I was thinking about last night was the Pharisees. We always look down on the Pharisees because they missed the point, and because that 'Holier Than Thou' attitude pisses everybody off.

Last night, I realized that Jesus loved them too. Him yelling at them and calling them out in public was just one of the ways that he was trying to get through to them. In the gospels, we see times where he had dinner with the Pharisees. He hung out with them too, and was probably friends with a few of them. He didn't just yell at them and call them names, he spoke with them in private, too.

I imagine there were times when he had intelligent, productive, civil conversations with them. Especially in private because there wasn't a 'public image' for the Pharisees to uphold. He was able to teach them one on one, but when they were all together, in public, their attitude problem came to the forefront, and that's when he had to bring 'em down a notch.

I think he yelled at them for the sakes of the general public who had been taught to look up to the Pharisees, but also to show the Pharisees that they weren't fooling God with their 'acts of righteousness,' and that they were missing the point.

I think he did it out of love for them, and his hope in rebuking them publicly was that maybe one of them would look at him and think, "Is this the same guy I had dinner with last night? We had a good talk last night. I kind of like him. It matters to me what he thinks of me. Is what I'm doing here wrong?"

I think that truth spoke to them and they had to choose whether to change their attitude or whether to 'kill the messenger,' because when he yelled at them, it hurt. When you get hurt, you either accept the pain, or you get pissed off and try to hurt back.

Most of the Pharisees got mad and closed their hearts to his message. It was too hard for them to change. But a few became his followers.

But that made me think of something else. Jesus saw the Pharisees for the hypocrites that most of them were, but he still loved them. And I don't think he yelled at them with the intent to humiliate them.

His motive was love. He knew that the only thing left for him to do [after relating with them in private, after developing a relationship with them] to try to make them see the light was to expose their hearts to them in front of everyone else.

But, Jesus had an advantage that we don't. He could see the sincere heart. He could look past a person's actions and know that they were trying [I think making the effort and never giving up matters more to God than results].

He knows when a person's motive is to exalt themselves. And he knows when their actions look like they're trying to exalt themselves but their true motive is to exalt God.

We can't see inside a person's heart. It's hard to see inside our own motives sometimes, what makes us think we can look at someone's actions and judge their motives?

I think that's what it means when it says "don't judge," because all we can see is the outside of people.

Which brings up one last thing, I promise. When we see sin in others, maybe the way we should point it out to them isn't, "What you are doing is a sin against God." Maybe we should bring up the behavior and ask them how what they are doing is affecting those around them. Specifically the people they love most.

If we can get the focus off, "This is what I want or need." and put it on, "This is what satisfying my want/need will do to my loved ones." Maybe people will be more willing to change. It forces them to see that the real choice is whether they show their love for others through doing the right thing, or whether they show by their actions that they really don't love others as much as they think.

It's all about love. That's why I choose Christ, because he supernaturally enables me to love God, love others, and love myself above and beyond what I can dream or imagine. That's what holiness is: Unconditional love.

I don't know about you guys, but that's pretty exciting to me!

There is hope for me after all.

Thanks for listening, guys. Writing this stuff down has helped me immensely. Let me know if you think I'm full of shit, okay?

Ahem...

2006-01-11T22:36:00.000-06:00

So I'm thinking tonight must be spent with my husband. I told him earlier that we needed to have a 'dialogue,' after which he looked at me like, 'What happened?' Followed by the look that said, "Am I in trouble?" Yes, after ten years, I really can read his mind.

I only let the suspense build until we finished dinner. Then I told him our dialogue probably wouldn't need words. Which resulted in a look of relief, and then with the realization of my implication, anticipation. He was really helpful giving the kids their baths and getting them tucked in.

They all have colds, so I gave them drugs* and put them to bed. We shouldn't have any interruptions.

*Children's Cold Medicine, in the proper dosage for their age and weight! Sheesh, I'm not that crazy!

PLA, Pathological Liars Anonymous

2006-01-10T22:03:00.000-06:00

I found this story through Paperback Writer. It's a big, long article, six pages in fact, but basically it says [and backs up the allegation] that James Frey, author of A Million Little Pieces, made up large parts of his story.

If you don't watch Oprah, let me give you a brief idea of what it is. Frey wrote 'Pieces' as a memoir of his own drug addiction, criminal career, and trip to rehab. He says he did almost every kind of drug imaginable, including methamphetamine. He wrote about being an outcast in his town, about being angry and having multiple run-ins with the law.

The people over at The Smoking Gun did an excellent job going through several of Frey's stories and proving them false.

I remember reading that James Herriot claimed his stories were a memoir at some point, but were later proven to be fictionalized accounts [can't remember the details now, sorry].

I think I understand why Frey exaggerated his story and then claimed that it all happened to him, but that doesn't make it okay. I could be wrong, but I think it makes him a liar.

Seems like all he had to do was put a disclaimer somewhere in there that some of the details of the story had been changed so that people would know that it didn't all happen the way he wrote. Yes, it takes away some of the dramatic impact if you know the truth, but later on, when people find out which parts were fictionalized, you don't end up in the news being called a liar.

I can't say I'm surprised the story isn't completely true. I watched the Oprah show, and felt like his story was really outlandish in spots. I took it with a grain of salt, though, as I do most things these days.

No, I'm not surprised, just a little disappointed that he had the 'nads to write a bunch of lies, and didn't think he'd get caught. We always get caught eventually, don't we?

Okay, the two year old is screaming, so I gotta go.

I'm On A Mission...

2006-01-09T23:14:00.000-06:00

To find sleep. I know it's around here somewhere...

Sorry, insomnia struck again last night and I was up until four a.m. and got up around nine, so my butt's a draggin' again. I'm working on my next scene for NIP. No, really, the work's just mental right now.

And speaking of mental, I ended up on Kirk Cameron's website. Interesting. But only in the sense of weirdness at how two people who are believers in the same religion can be at opposite ends of the spectrum.

He is a [very polite] 'turn or burn' kind of guy. I'm not. In fact, according to him, what I believe isn't the Gospel at all, but a false gospel.

Hmm.

I will say this, though, going there gave me a perfect picture of what I don't want to be. [here's the link, but go at your own risk]

Oy, It's late now, and I want to sleep, so I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Something I Learned Tonight

2006-01-09T01:48:00.000-06:00

Genesis 19:5
And they called to Lot, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, that we may know them." [entire chapter is here]

The word of contention in this passage is 'know.' I looked it up in a Greek lexicon and this is what I found. Know is the Greek word 'yada.'
1) to know
a) (Qal)
1) to know
a) to know, learn to know
b) to perceive
c) to perceive and see, find out and discern
d) to discriminate, distinguish
e) to know by experience
f) to recognize, admit, acknowledge, confess
g) to consider
2) to know, be acquainted with
3) to know (a person carnally)
4) to know how, be skilful in
5) to have knowledge, be wise
b) (Niphal)
1) to be made known, be or become known, be revealed
2) to make oneself known
3) to be perceived
4) to be instructed
c) (Piel) to cause to know
d) (Poal) to cause to know
e) (Pual)
1) to be known
2) known, one known, acquaintance (participle)
f) (Hiphil) to make known, declare
g) (Hophal) to be made known
h) (Hithpael) to make oneself known, reveal oneself found.

The little description thingie I linked to says that yada is sometimes used as a euphemism for having sex with someone. But you see above that there are about twelve different meanings there and most of them have to do with getting to, well, know someone. I saw something on the History Channel that suggested that Sodom and Gomorrah wasn't destroyed because of homosexuality, but for their all around wickedness and lack of hospitality [which was a big deal in ancient Hebrew culture.]

I have a couple of issues with the traditional interpretation of this verse. Number one: Why does everything have to be about sex? Let's assume that when these guys said 'know' they did mean 'have sex with.'

I find it interesting that every man in the whole town showed up at Lot's door to have sex with a couple of strangers. These two towns were known to be a haven for every kind of sin imaginable, but they were also suspicious of strangers.

"9But they said, Stand back! And they said, This fellow came in to live here temporarily, and now he presumes to be [our] judge! Now we will deal worse with you than with them. So they rushed at and pressed violently against Lot and came close to breaking down the door."

Lot was never accepted into S&Gs society, he was a stranger, and they were pissed that he told them no, they couldn't have the two men. But then they threaten Lot with worse treatment than what they were planning with the others.

Guys, I'm sorry, but that doesn't sound like homosexuality. It sounds like rape, which is completely different. Rape isn't about sex, it's about power. If they raped the guys and let them go, it would send a clear message to others to stay out of town. By treating Lot worse, they were also sending a clear message to outsiders.

Forcing unwilling partners into sex, whether same-sex or opposite-sex, is rape, and it is about power, not sex. So even if you look at it with the 'sex' interpretation, it's still not a good argument against homosexuality, because it has nothing to do with sexual orientation. It has to do with a bunch of horrible men who hated everyone and refused to see their fellow humans as people with rights and feelings.

This is only one of several scriptures used in the argument against homosexuality, but this is one that doesn't work. I haven't researched the others yet, so I don't know if they have been skewed. And I may not have argued my point coherently here, but this is one scripture where I disagree with my fellow CCs [Conservative Christians].

And this is the kind of stuff I was talking about in my previous post about my frustration with the religious teachers I've spent my entire Christian experience believing. If they can misrepresent one scripture, how many others have they miscontrued to prove a point?

In spite of my irritation with them, I know these men and women are, above all, sincere in their faith. They really believe what they are saying, and I do believe that they love Jesus, and are doing the best they can.

So am I. Whatever conclusions I reach about the 'religion' aspect, I really am seeking God in all this. I am sure that there is a God, that He loves me, and that He wants me to know Him [well, as much as any human can comprehend the uncomprehendable... Um, is that a word?]. I have a relationship with Him that kind of defies explanation, but it's there nonetheless.

I'm still clinging to His promise: "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29:13

Unfortunate and Frustrating

2006-01-09T01:11:00.000-06:00

This is part of what has sent me into a spiritual upheaval. It may seem painfully obvious to you, but it hasn't been to me until recently, and I'm not happy about it. Actually, I'm disappointed and feel betrayed by numerous people I have held in the highest esteem.

All people are biased.

Quick definitions (bias)
noun: a partiality that prevents objective consideration of an issue or situation
[taken from OneLook Dictionary search]

partiality that prevents objective consideration of an issue.

Jeez. How I couldn't realize that before now is beyond me, but that's where I am. For years, I was immersed in the Religious Right movement. I believed that it was a good thing to 'get back to basics,' and, distill the gospel, I guess you could call it. I listened to my preachers and the religious leaders of my particular group, and when they said, "Vote your conscience," I did. Or at least I thought I did.

What I really did was vote their conscience. I voted largely based on the candidate's views on things like abortion and gun control. With the things I have learned in the past couple of months, those candidates were just as morally corrupt [maybe more so for bringing religion into their political platform and still lying about a bunch of other crap] as the other guys.

I voted against the 'baby killers' and voted for the people who [I am just finding out] would completely disregard, ignore, and allow the deaths of the poor, physically disabled, mentally ill, and anyone else who can't pay them money for protection.

I feel so angry and hurt and frustrated and betrayed by people I thought were able to be objective about things. I believed them when they told me that the homosexuals have an agenda to destroy the family. I believed them when they said you can't be a Democrat and a Christian at the same time. I believed them when they said that laws to control or outlaw assault weapons would infringe on my right to bear arms.

I believed them because I thought Christians were supposed to have the inside track on figuring out the truth [or is that Truth?] I believed that the religious leaders were smarter and more educated than me, and that they took their roles seriously and wouldn't misinform me, because Christians are supposed to be objective and honest.

Objective and Honest.

Is there anyone in a position of power who is? Is there anyone on the freaking planet who has managed it?!?

Yeah, yeah, the Liberals are slanted against certain things, and unfair, and biased about others.

But so are Conservative Christians. We are just as bad. And that's what pisses me off, because we're not supposed to be [at least that's what I always thought.]

I hate being wrong about stuff like this because I hate to think that I have hurt others by falling for some bullshit line by some sincere, but sincerely wrong, people.

And now I have to go through every single thing I've believed in for the past ten years and research it and find out on my own whether it's worth keeping or not.

Do you have any idea how much stuff that is? Egads, it'll probably take years to get through it all, and in the meantime, I very well could be labeled a heretic by the people I love most.

But dammit, I can't let this go. I may very well drive anyone who reads this blog nuts, but I have to finish it. I have to figure out what it is that I really believe. And it's looking [unfortunately] like I may have to figure it out alone. I hate that.

It's Begun

2006-01-07T13:50:00.000-06:00

Well, I started blogging my novel out of sheer desperation. I got the first scene down, so that's a good start. I can't comment on quality other than to say it's a first draft, and obviously needs work. I can edit one of these freaking blog posts all day if I let myself, which is why I've made it a rule [possibly a bad one, but it's the only way I can get anything done] that I don't go back and read a post once it's up.

There's always something that needs tweaking, fixing, or deleting. I'm a perfectionist [probably need a freaking twelve step program for it] and I'll never be satisfied with it. Editing is a good and necessary thing, but not on a first draft.

So, you're welcome to read it, but please be kind if you comment, and remember it's not finished. [Link is here]

Oh yeah, if you have time and are so inclined, pray for me, wish me luck, send positive thoughts, or whatever it is you do. I'm gonna need all the help I can get!

Did I mention it was fun? It was. If I end up being good enough at this to make money at it, I'm gonna love my job!

About My Last Post...

2006-01-07T02:09:00.000-06:00

Okay, I just needed to get that out of my system. Here's the deal, I really like profanity. When I became a Christian, I stopped smoking and drinking and having premarital sex [of course you can't really have premarital sex after you're married] way before I stopped cussing.

And after I stopped using profanity, I used substitute profanity. Crap replaced shit. Dang replaced damn [and dangit replaced dammit; I never could get behind darn or darnit, too bland.] Hacked off replaced pissed off, although pee and poop replaced piss and shit to describe bodily functions. Rip replaced bitch [as in, "She's a real rip."] Griping replaced bitching. And of course freaking, crap, screw, and various invented words replaced the f-bomb [which had been my favorite.]

There are other 'substitutes,' but those are the ones I used the most.

But then I got to thinking [which probably isn't a good idea, because I seem to be at odds with the status quo when I do] why the heck [oh crap, I forgot that heck replaced hell!] am I doing
this?

The intent is the same regardless of the words I speak. Since God sees the heart, and therefore my intent or motives, He knew that when I said 'crap,' what I really wanted to say was 'shit,' and sometimes 'dammit.' So who was I kidding?

The Bible talks about cursing in James 3, but I'm thinking it's talking more about what you say [good things [as in ideas, thoughts, concepts] vs. bad things, whether you're talking about people, or things, or God]

I could be wrong, [it's happened a time or two] but I think cursing had more to do with saying to some one, "May your eyes burn up and fall out of your head and a cow step on your foot for what you have done," than, "Ah shit, I stubbed my damned toe!" [Incidentally, should it be 'damn toe,' or 'damned toe,' I've seen it both ways in the past couple of days and I'm curious.]

And so, I began to look at words as a matter of preference. I still don't cuss in church, or around certain people because it's offensive to them, but at home and around close friends [and on this blog], I say whatever comes to mind.

That's just how I am. I stifled it for a long time, but I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not. I hate dishonesty more than anything else, so I'm not going to be dishonest anymore. And that may mean I offend the hell out of people sometimes. It's not my motive to be difficult, but it's probably inevitable.

Maybe profanity is the 'lowest common denominator' in language, but I'm not a scholar. I'm just a person with a high school education who loves hyperbole, and colorful turns of phrases, and yes, profanity.

And now I'm freaking [can't quite drop the f-bomb anymore, but I'm okay with that] tired [as usual] and I'm going to bed!

A Word on Profanity

2006-01-07T02:07:00.000-06:00

Shit.

Ach! There Are Times When I Just Shake My Head

2006-01-06T01:37:00.000-06:00

It looks as though Pat Robertson has spoken for God again, and stuck his foot [Mr. Robertson's, not God's] in his mouth. He linked the massive stroke of the Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon to the wrath of God. Of course, I think he also made a link between September 11th and the wrath of God, and lots of other remarks claiming that he has the inside scoop on the mind of God. Isn't there a scripture about that somewhere? Ah, yes Isaiah 55: 7-11. "My thoughts are not your thoughts..." I admit that's taken out of context, the whole chapter is here. But this guy just keeps on talking for God, and saying horrible things, all the while claiming to have some special knowledge of God that the rest of us, apparently, don't have.

His spokesperson say he's just quoting the Bible, and he is, but he's doing what I just did, taking it out of context and using it to suit his purposes. He seems to think that the Bible is just a big book full of how God kicks your butt if you don't fall into line. I don't get that when I read it.

What I see is a love story.

Yup, you read that right. The Old Testament is all about God's relationship with the Israelites. And through it all, His incredible love for His people is right there in black and white.

[Some] Christians always focus on God's discipline, and the times he destroyed cities [and once, the entire world] because the humans got ridiculous with their behavior and were ruled by selfishness and hate, and never looked at God or their fellow humans with anything but contempt.

We always look at the acts people were committing and say, "Well if I don't do those things, I'll be okay, and anyone who does those things is going straight to hell and good riddance!" We don't look at the fact that the root of all those destructive things was selfishness. And selfishness is something we all are guilty of from time to time.

By selfishness, I'm not talking about taking care of yourself, or looking after your own interests, I'm talking about thinking only about what you want, to the exclusion of everyone and every thing else on the planet.

Jesus said that the two commandments that summed up all the laws and prophets were:

Love God [with all your heart, soul, and mind]
Love your neighbor as yourself (emphasis mine) [Matt 22:36-40]

It's okay to like yourself, and take care of yourself. You have to do that or you DIE [whether physically, mentally or spiritually].

And that loving God thing? I don't think that includes speaking for him. Over and over, Jesus kicks the religious leaders in their asses for being self-righteous prigs [like this one]

The one that hits me as most appropriate for our current religious leaders is this one:

"The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector Luke 18:9-14 [here is the whole chapter]

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.'
"But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.'
"I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."

God is more interested in your heart than your actions.

Eight years ago, I had all the answers. I was a Card Carrying Member of the Religious Right. Things were black and white, right or wrong and I knew which was which. Then the world I had carefully constructed fell apart when I realized that the people I had been modeling myself after were, well, human. And fallible. And just as screwed up as the non-Christians we hated so much.

In fact, some of those non-Christians were way better than they or I ever thought of being. They were out there feeding the hungry, taking care of orphans, widows, the sick, and visiting prisoners and working toward rehabilitating them instead of throwing them away or killing them. In fact, most of what we did was bitch about everything and everybody.

I didn't know how to react to the fact that the people I admired so much were wrong about some things, so I shut down.

I stopped trying completely for several years. I still went to church most Sundays, but my heart wasn't in it. I went into a tailspin of depression that sucked the life out of me. I reached a point where I was like, why the hell am I bothering with this? What is it that makes Christians so different from everyone else that we get to go to heaven and they don't?

The easy answer, the typical Christian answer is, "Well, Jesus, of course."

"What about him?" My mind asks.

"Well, He died on the cross for our sins, so that we can go to heaven when we die."

"But what am I supposed to do while I'm here on earth?

"Be a Contagious Christian and Win Souls For Christ."

"How?"

"Tell them the Good News!"

"What good news?"

"What I just said, you ninny! Jesus died on the cross and all that."

"Is that it? Is that all he has to offer?"

"Isn't that enough? What kind of heathen are you?!"

And that is the million dollar question, folks. What kind of heathen am I? I'm not buying any more of the crap from the 'religious leaders.' They don't know any more about God's mind than I do [and if you've been paying attention, you know I don't know squat]. And I'm not absolutely sure anymore that Christians are the only ones who get to go to heaven.

Part of me has wondered all along if I'm losing my faith. Maybe I am. Losing my faith in others' abilities to tell me what the Bible teaches. Losing my faith in the fundamentalist movement as the best way to follow Christ [nope, I've pretty much lost that]. Am I losing my faith in Jesus as the Son of God? And if I do, will that change my desire to follow his teachings?

I think maybe that's the key. Following what he taught, regardless of his origin [we're not going to worry about his claim that he was the Son of God right now, because I still believe that]. I think what I need to do is find out exactly what it is that Jesus taught. I know some of it, but I think I've focused so much on the son of God thing that I've neglected the important stuff.

The thing that keeps me holding on sometimes is this:

"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29:13 [entire chapter] I am seeking Him. And I'm clinging to the promise that I will find Him for all I'm worth.

Okay, so that's where I'll go from here. But now I need sleep.

The Story of My Birth

2006-01-04T22:27:00.000-06:00

Well, my to do list didn't work as well as I'd hoped. I forgot about Wednesday night church, so that screwed things up. Then there were the poopy diapers [oh come on, it was just a matter of time before this came up!] My youngest loves fruit, but it does strange things to her digestive tract. There were four, possibly five poopy diapers today.

She's two, so technically I could start potty training, but with the other two, I've waited until they were old enough to discuss what needs to be done and how. Maybe it's because I'm lazy, but I just feel like if they understand what's going on, they're more likely to get with the program. The older two were completely potty trained by four, which to some seems old, but it's what worked for me.

Hubby had the audacity to suggest that 'we' begin potty training the youngest soon. I admit I was somewhat rude, but I laughed hysterically and said, "When you get ready to do it, you knock your bad self out. If I'm the one who's gonna have to do all the work like with the other two, you can just keep your comments to yourself!" There are just some places a man shouldn't tread, and he tromped all over one of 'em that day! But he's cute, so I forgave him.

Some quick estimates: I've been a mom for almost eight years now. If I did my math right, that's 2,920 days. A rough estimate of diaper changes per day is five, although I've had two kids in diapers at a time for part of that, we're just going 'general picture' here. That's 14,600 diapers, most of which, I've changed myself.

Oh, speaking of cute husbands who need forgiving! My wonderful husband of ten and a half years FORGOT MY BIRTHDAY!!! Unbelievable. Actually, I think it's kind of funny. In all the years we've been together, this is the first time he's forgotten it. I'm afraid I've forgotten his more than once [I was pregnant though, which causes brain rot anyway, and I was horribly sick, so I had.. ahem.. reasons!] He really did feel bad, and he's cute, so I forgave him [gave him a hard time about it, though. *evil chuckle*]

But I digress, we were going to talk about my first birthday.

I was my mother's third child. The first was born in 1967 when she was just six months pregnant. The doctor made the decision not to send him to a larger hospital, and he died at three days old. My brother's name was Jeffrey. I've seen pictures of him in his coffin and I cannot imagine what it was like for my parents to lose a child. The thought of losing one of my own is so horrible, even writing about the possibility makes me want to cry.

Mom is one of my favorite people in the world, but the way she deals with difficulties in life is to get angry. She told me that after Jeff died, she wanted to get pregnant as quickly as possible. Thirteen months later, my brother Jeremi was born. During the last couple weeks of her pregnancy, Mom gained a LOT of weight [something like twenty pounds].

It never occurred to the doctor that she might have pregnancy induced hypertension [then called pre-eclampsia]. I'm not clear on all the details here, but mom went into labor and after a long night of contractions, and after finding out that Jeremi was breech, the doctor gave her a spinal block. Spinal blocks are different than epidurals. Spinal blocks can affect the mother's breathing, which can affect the baby's heart rate.

Which is what happened to my mom. It isn't clear if the doctor gave her too much medicine, or if he put it in too high, or if Mom just had a bad reaction, but she almost died, and Jeremi ended up with severe cerebral palsy. His body is the size of an adult's, but with the physical capabilities of a newborn. He still has the grasping, rooting, and startle reflexes of an infant. He can't speak, is quadriplegic, and has the mind of a thirty-seven year old man.

I read somewhere that Stephen King said that the worst thing he could imagine was to be a healthy mind in a body that was helpless. The two examples he gave were ALS, or Lou Gehrig's Disease, and cerebral palsy. I'd say that's about right.

After my first daughter was born, Jeremi asked me, "When will it be my turn?" All I could say was, "I don't know, J. I don't know."

I was born on January 4, 1974, not long after Roe v Wade made abortion legal [the case was decided on Jan 22, 1973]. Mom told me [after I was an adult] that she considered having an abortion because she didn't think she could handle another pregnancy ending in a dead or disabled child. I don't know what stopped her, but I'm glad she did.

So anyway, mom went to the hospital [which later closed down, and was re-opened as a psychiatric hospital... I like to tell people I was born in a nut-house. Not PC, I know, but the looks on their faces is priceless.] My brother was at my paternal grandma's house [he was four and a half by that point] and my maternal grandma was at the hospital with my mom and dad.

Legend has it that a conversation happened between my dad and grandma at my mother's bedside that went something like this.

"You think we'll be here all night again?"

"Yeah, Jane... I reckon so. I guess we better get some rest while we can, huh."

Mom handled it the way she always did, [and the way a lot of women in labor would] She gave them a few choice words, rolled over, and didn't speak again until a few hours later when she yelled, "I gotta push!" To this day, she swears she was so mad at them she didn't feel any pain.

The hospital I was born in was so small that I ended up being the New Year's baby that year. Got my picture in the paper and everything. Everything seemed normal, so she took me home.

When I was a week old, Mom says that I turned bright neon orange, and they took me to the doctor for jaundice. The doctor took one look at me and sent me to a much bigger teaching hospital several hours away. When I got there, they took my bilirubin to check for hyperbilirubinemia [big word for high bilirubin]. My level was 27, which if untreated can cause something called kernicterus [symptoms include cerebral palsy and deafness].

Luckily for me, the hospital I went to had a wonderful doctor who knew how to treat it. They did the phototherapy thing and a complete blood transfusion from a live donor. I still have the scars on my neck and ankle. They told me that my donor was a college student, and I sometimes wonder if he or she knows that she saved a baby's life that day.

When the doctors sent me home, they warned my mother that I very likely would end up with brain damage. I can't imagine what that did to her psychologically for the next few months until I started developing like a normal child.

So there you have it, folks.

"The Story of My Birth,"

"How I Got Borned."

by Shelbi

Happy Birthday To Me!!

2006-01-04T00:25:00.000-06:00

Okay, I know it's cheesy to wish yourself a happy birthday when you're an adult, but I'm actually happy this year! I am thirty-two today, and I'm finally getting used to this thirtysomething decade being something I'm actually old enough to be a part of. It still freaks me out that I can talk about things that happened 25 years ago, and actually have a real memory of it.

When I turned thirty, I was pretty depressed about it. For some reason, my brain told me that being a stay-at-home-mom wasn't a worthy occupation since you don't have to have a degree to make a baby and then stay at home with him until he grows up.

Actually, you don't have to have any intelligence whatsoever to make a baby, which makes me feel really sorry for a lot of children out there. Because whatever people think, raising kids to be good humans is not easy.

It takes something I wonder every day if I have. My kids are really good kids, for which I am truly thankful. They aren't perfect, which is clearly in evidence when they are tired, but they are good. I wish I could say it's because of our excellent parenting, but I just don't know if that's true.

And looking at them now, I can only imagine them as wonderful adults, but there aren't any guarantees there, either. If you look at pictures of Ted Bundy as a kid, you can't imagine that he would grow up and do the unspeakable things we know he did. I'm sure his parents couldn't.

That's scary as hell for me. My kids are 7, 5, and 2. They are all really cute, really sweet kids. But as they grow up, I will have to let them go and make decisions on their own. There will come a point when I can't dictate whether they put on clean underwear, make their beds, or experiment with drugs and alcohol.

Right now, my kids are anti-drug, anti-drunk driving, anti-smoking kids, but so was I, and I did every one of those things as a teenager. I was lucky. I didn't kill anyone, didn't get addicted to anything harder than cigarettes [hubby and I quit smoking almost 10 years ago]. But that's no guarantee that my kids won't.

Sheesh. This is one of those deals where all I can do is the best I'm capable of and then pray like crazy that God will make up for my inadequacy.

*shift gears*

Tomorrow [which is really today, but I'm still up so it's yesterday, I mean today, ah hell, you know what I mean!]
I will do an outline for my novel.
I will blog about the story of my birth [which I think is funny, and so typical of my mom].
I will wash the freaking dishes [housework is the bane of my existence].
I will work on Hooked on Phonics and Hooked on Math with my daughter.
I will do one load of laundry [yup, hate that too.]
I will limit my time on the internet blog hopping with my kitchen timer because I got sucked in for hours and hours today, and have the raging headache to prove it!

Can You Hear Me Now?

2006-01-03T10:09:00.000-06:00

Sheesh, here's hoping.

Edited to add: It looks like Blogger is up and running again, so I can get my blog fix! Yay! I can't believe I love doing this so much. It's a strange thing, blogging.

I just made my first post over at the Uber Challenge, "Hi, my name's Shelbi, and I have a psycho Internal Editor who needs to be duct taped and thrown into a closet until I get my first draft done." I don't know why she leaves me alone when I blog but rules my fiction with an iron fist. Maybe I need to post my novel here [or on a different blog] in the hopes that it will fool her into leaving me alone.

Hmm.

The only thing that worries me about that is technically, you're not supposed to let anyone see your first draft [because they usually suck]. And if people comment and say stuff like, "You suck! What the hell were you thinking?" Well, that's what my IE does.

Maybe I will do it anyway. Here's a dumb question, though. If I 'publish' it on the 'Net, can I still send it out to real publishers? And will they care?

But then again, how many people would read it? I guess I could delete it after it's finished [you know, with a back up in word... gotta write that down...]

Okay, well this is really early for a post by me. You might be interested to know that I have three kids running around the house, banging into the walls and screaming bloody murder. Which is why I usually do this after midnight when the little curtain climbers are in bed.

I love 'em, though. You know, in spite of my political and religious confusion, I'm pretty happy with my life. It would be really easy to stop thinking about the tough stuff and go back to the way I used to be [asleep in the back seat of my life].

What am I saying?!? No it wouldn't. Insomnia notwithstanding, actively seeking answers for life's tough questions is hard as hell, uncertain, and in spots may be impossible. But it's also invigorating. I feel like I'm coming fully alive, and that's definitely a good thing.

I have no idea where I'll end up, but it looks like I'm in it for the long haul.

Sometimes Stuff Don't Make No Sense!

2006-01-03T00:33:00.000-06:00

I tried to delete some posts, but they still show up, and the post I posted about posting is gone. I know almost nothing about computers, so I have no idea what I did to get the posts to show up. Maybe this one will be there by morning.

*shakes head in confusion and steps away from the keyboard*

Okay, That Was Weird

2006-01-03T00:14:00.000-06:00

I thought my posts weren't posting because I keep getting an error message when I try to post a post. But then I looked at my blog, and all the posts I posted were there! So I had to delete them because I was just testing, not really posting.

But now I'm posting this post, and will probably still get the posting error, but the post will post after all?

I dunno. Computers freak me out sometimes.

Okay, I'm gonna go play some computer games while I eat my 'Maruchan Instant Lunch;' beef flavor if you're interested.

Rollin,' Rollin,' Rollin,' Keep That Blog A Rollin!

2006-01-02T22:49:00.000-06:00

My spell check ought to have a blast with that title! Hee hee. There are days when I just can't help myself. My friend Lindsay started a blog and posted about our New Year's Eve party. She posted pictures, and since my attempt the other day turned into such a sideways mess, I'm not gonna try it again for a long while.

Go here and scroll down if you're interested. Hubby and I dressed up in matching biker jackets and work shirts. I had horrible hair and make-up [on purpose, but mine didn't hold a candle to a couple of others.] Anyway, it was loads of fun.

Let's see here, was there anything else I wanted to talk about? [goes blog hopping while thinking about it.]

Maybe I'll come back to you later, right now I have to test something.

Holy Crappoli, It's 2006!

2006-01-01T22:30:00.000-06:00

Holy Crappoli, it's 2006!
I hope that the new year is filled with toothpicks!
Because if we're thinking of picking our teeth
Then natural disasters have stopped with their, um, kicking the crap out of the humans!

[There's a reason I don't write much poetry, but don't be surprised if you find some here from time to time!]

2005 was one of the worst years ever for natural disasters, and I for one am hoping we've seen the end of it. I don't know if that's the case, but I'm praying for a good year.

We survived Christmas with hubby's family. My family is next week. I probably won't have access to a computer during that time, so I won't be blogging. We'll see.

I have been having major insomnia lately. Probably because of all the stuff I'm learning. I remember doing this a lot when I was younger. That's probably why I put my brain in shut-down mode and avoided all things politics and news for so long. I may have to put the brakes on again, but I'm hoping I'll be able to learn to cope.

I need to work some more on meditation, because I'm having a hard time getting focused on anything and slowing down the thoughts. I am exhausted, which means that I'm stressed out. Unfortunately, that also means that I am more susceptible to infections [I have an infected thumbnail which hurts like crazy... and sticks out like a sore thumb ;-D so I'm always bumping it. Plus, I have a sore throat and the beginnings of a cold.]

Last year at this time, I had a kidney infection and on my birthday [Jan. 4th] I had to have a friend come and drive me to the hospital during an ice storm, while another friend came and got my kids because I was passing kidney stones.

My husband had to be in court that day [part of his job], so I was at home in bed, trying to keep the kids from burning the house down while experiencing the most excruciating pain of my life.

I finally got desperate and called my husband, who then called our friend, who then called another friend, and he met me in the emergency room [where I had been two nights before in the same kind of pain, but got a psycho incompetent doctor who gave me six pyridium and a script for macrobid and sent me home.]

If you've ever been in the hospital, you know about the pain scale, with 10 being the worst pain you've ever experienced, and 1 being no pain. Even after giving birth three times [one was a c-section] I reached a whole new level for 10. It hurts like childbirth, but it never lets up like contractions do. The rocks combined with the most horrible kidney infection ever, made my life a living hell for a few weeks.

Yup, worst birthday I ever had. I had never been that sick before and hope never to be that sick again. So here I am again, with the beginnings of an illness that was caused by stress, and I'm a little worried, I guess. I'm thinking maybe I'll go to the doctor [a good one] tomorrow just to make sure I don't get any worse. My lungs hurt a little, and I'm gonna make sure I don't end up celebrating my birthday in the freaking hospital with pneumonia.

Sheesh, I sound a little hypochondriacle don't I [how's that for a made-up four dollar word?]

Blog ya later!

Happy New Year!

2006-01-01T01:49:00.000-06:00

Okie dokie folks! We just got back from a New Year's party where tons of fun was had by all participants [well, at least two of 'em had fun!] We greeted the 2006 with noise makers and sparkling cider [which was disgusting, but I'm not a fan of fruit juice without the nasty little bubbles, but the sparkly stuff... blech!]

Anyway, we had fun, and tomorrow we're going to Hubby's mom and sister's house to celebrate Christmas. Yeah, it's late, but we have to go to my family's sometime in the next week to do the Christmas thing, too.

George [aka Hubby, aka Steve, can you guess which one is his real name?] drove a tow truck for five years and rarely had a day off, so we got used to celebrating holidays and birthdays whenever, regardless of the date. To us, the day we celebrate isn't as important as spending time with family in honor of the holiday, so it's no big deal. You do whatcha gotta, you know?

Tonight was a good night, and hopefully tomorrow will be a good day [they usually are, we are one of the few couples in the world who have no troubles with our in-laws... words can't describe my thankfulness for that!].

So anyway, my angst from last night is on the back burner. I've joined a writing group called the Uber-Challenge, which was started by Jo Leigh. She said that all are welcome regardless of where they are in their careers, so I'm taking her at her word. I am looking forward to it, though. Being a stay at home mother of three, I don't get out much, so finding real life writing groups to join is difficult [I don't know if there is such a thing in this town].

I only have one, okay two resolutions this year. One is to lose the weight I've gained with having three kids [about 25 pounds since 1998]. It should be doable, if I get up off my bum and do it. I've decided that the time has come, though. I'm shedding a lot of old ideas, so why not some weight too, while I'm at it?

The other is to finish a novel. By finish, I mean writing the first draft and then editing the hell out of it until it's worth something [first drafts usually suck]. And then I will send out queries and partials and whatever else I need to do until it gets accepted somewhere [or until I run out of places to ask, in which case, I will put ms #1 away and finish ms #2 and start over with the queries... I'm not giving up. Ever.]

The word meter shall rise! Oh yes, I can feel the flood of words coming. 50,000 here I come!

Okay, gettin' loopy here.

Have a wonderful new year, friends. May the best of last year be the worst of this year for us all.

So Many Words, So Little Time

2005-12-31T01:12:00.000-06:00

You'd think with the kids gone, my word count meter would be going through the roof. However, I woke up with the same headache that put me out of commission last night, and didn't get it under control until 1:30 this afternoon. I was browsing blogs this evening when it started coming back, so I decided to come here and blog before I die [I'm gonna take some ibuprofen, too, hoping to head it off at the pass.]

Let's see, I was going to tell you about the books I got at Borders last night, but my head blew up, so maybe I can get through it tonight.

I got a book by Norman Vincent Peale called Positive Imaging. Last night I was looking up links to stick under the names for your clicking enjoyment, and I found this horrid article about Dr. Peale. It was written by a group calling themselves Biblical Discernment Ministries. Discernment is defined as: (discernment)
noun: perception of that which is obscure
noun: the trait of judging wisely and objectively (Example: "A man of discernment")
noun: delicate discrimination (especially of aesthetic values)
noun: the cognitive condition of someone who understands
noun: ability to make good judgments [I swiped those definitions from here, a site I love dearly.]

In the article, it claims that Peale never talks about salvation, or about Jesus as the way to salvation and a bunch of other crap that, if you've read the book, you would find simply isn't true.

Nothing pisses me off more than people who lie, which is probably why I am losing confidence in the president, and in many Christian leaders. I mean come on, people. President Clinton was impeached because he couldn't keep his pants zipped. Our current president spied on thousands of e-mails, phone calls, and who knows what else, okayed the mistreatment of suspected [not proven] terrorists, and then lied about it until he couldn't deny it anymore.

Why is it so evil for one president to have sex in the oval office that he has to be impeached [no, it wasn't okay that he did it, but the people he hurt were his own family.]? But it's okay for a president to invade the privacy of thousands of people in the name of fighting terrorism, and completely violate the Constitution in the process by ignoring the checks and balances that make our government at least marginally better than most? I mean he wrote an executive order that said he didn't have to get a court order to monitor the calls. Why? In all the years they've been getting secret warrants, the court has only turned the pres. down maybe three times.

I feel like the president is using horrid scare tactics to convince us that it's okay for him to ignore the Constitution in the name of the 'war on terror.'

Oh yeah, back to the article on Dr. Peale. What's up with that? I mean how many conservative Christians have completely trashed a person based on what they 'heard' about someone. I've had friends tell me that JK Rowling is a Satanist and has written other books with satanic messages. And that her Harry Potter books promote witchcraft.

Puh-lease! People, don't believe everything you hear! Not only that, but if you don't have the time to research stuff, don't freaking pass it on like it's gospel! I've read all of the Harry Potter books, and I can tell you that the Witchcraft and Wizardry you find in Ms. Rowling's books bears almost no resemblance to real Wiccan rituals. It seems like my fellow Christians freak out at the drop of the hat and see everything as a personal attack on their religion.

Christianity has been around for 2000 years. It has changed some [sometimes good, sometimes bad, and unfortunately the bad is way more visible] but, in the end, if you believe that Jesus is the Son of God and you follow what he taught, I'd say that counts. However, it seems like Christians have focused on the salvation part [believing that Jesus is the Son of God] and not so much on the 'following His teachings' part.

You know the part about taking care of the orphans, widows, and prisoners? The part about loving your neighbor as yourself [note that he didn't say more than or less than yourself, just as. I think that means "as much as," or "at the same time as" you love yourself. You really do have to take care of yourself and do the things that keep you healthy to be an effective person. But some have begun to focus only on themselves and forgotten to love others too. Others have forgotten to take care of themselves. Neither extreme is healthy, nor is it what Jesus wanted.]

I saw on the History Channel the other night that there may have been a Gospel of Mary [Magdalene]. What archaeologists found in it was that Mary was trying to tell the male disciples that Jesus had told her some things after his resurrection that he didn't share with the men.

That sounds like all kinds of heresy, I know, but here's the thing. She said that he told her not to focus so much on the salvation part and more on the teachings part of Jesus's ministry. My brain says this makes perfect sense. Of course he would tell the woman focus more on his other teachings, since we're the nurturers, and she was probably supposed to remind the men of the other half of our mission. And it's natural that the men would focus less on the caregiving and more on getting people saved.

But I think Jesus intended for both parts to be exercised equally, maybe even with more focus on taking care of the weak than "getting them saved." Christians have been spouting sayings for years about this, "They don't care how much you know until they know how much you care." And, "Don't be so heavenly minded that you're no earthly good."

I'm still thinking about all this stuff [the previous was just a thumbnail of all the various topics that have been rolling around up there... hey, maybe that's why I got the headache from hell yesterday!]. It's like my whole life is in the midst of an overhaul, and I'm still not sure exactly where it is I'm heading. A little disconcerting, I'll tell you that right now. I keep joking to Hubby that I'm becoming a freaking Liberal. He just shakes his head [He does that a lot. He doesn't back away in fear of the lightning strike anymore, so I figure I'm making some progress!!]

Yeah, so anyway, I'm sorry for griping around the world tonight, but it's been brewing for a while. Let me know if I made any sense, though, okay?

Until tomorrow, then.

When The Kids Are Away, The Parents Will Play

2005-12-29T22:42:00.000-06:00

The kids are gone until Sunday! Too bad I'm so freaking tired! Last night was a rough night. I was plagued with insomnia until 1am. About the time I started falling asleep, my youngest woke up crying. [Thus, it was another hour or so before I could shut my brain down enough to sleep. Ugh.] She turned two last October, and I can probably count on two hands the number of times she has slept through the night. [The older two slept all night from the beginning, so this is something new for me. I totally have sympathy for those parents who have kids who don't sleep, though. I feel your pain!]

She [my youngest] used to lose her binky all the time, but we got rid of that sucker [hee hee, horrid pun, I know, but I'm sleep deprived and it sounds really funny in my head] several months ago. Sometimes she just wakes up [possible bad dreams, I guess] and most of the time, she won't go back to sleep until I go pick her up.

Sometimes I send Hubby in, but she usually wakes up again if he does it. She's a mama's girl big time. Really they all are, I guess. Some moms like to be their kids' favorite, but that's not really my thing. I think it would be wonderful to hear one of them yell, "Daaaaaddy, I neeeeeed youuuuu!" Oh well, they do him, they just call on me when something hurts.

I went on my Big Shopping Trip To Borders the other day [I was gonna blog about it last night, but the kids played games online, and the computer locked up just as I was coming over. Rather than re-start it, I just gave up and went to bed.] I started reading a book by Jimmy Carter called Our Endangered Values.

I carried it around for a while, but my gift card was only for $20 and the book was $25 [with 30% off, so about $19 after the discount] but I had a hard time paying that much for one book when I could buy two that were just as interesting for the same price. I'll get the Carter book at the library, because I think it's worth reading.

I am in the process of working through some "theological issues," which I began to blog about next, but a sudden, massive headache has reduced my ability to think. So, I'm going to bed. Jeez! So frustrating.

Couldn't Resist

2005-12-27T23:58:00.000-06:00

I went back to tickle's website and took their IQ test again, deliberately missing all the questions. Here are my results:S, your Super IQ score is 80

Your overall intelligence quotient is the result of a scientifically-tested formula based on how many questions you answered correctly. But it's only part of what we learned about you from your answers on the test. We also determined the way you process information.The way you think about things makes you an Information Organizer. This means you have an eye for detail. You can scan a page and find the one mistake on it. You're also able to organize things in a way that makes sense and arrange information so that it is easier to understand. This makes you a very valuable resource for others who aren't organized or who have trouble catching their own mistakes. It's often difficult for traditional intelligence tests to pick up your particular set of abilities because the talent of organizing information and spotting inconsistencies is much harder to measure than other abilities.
How did we determine that your thinking style is that of an Information Organizer? When we examined your test results further, we analyzed how you scored on 8 dimensions of intelligence: spatial, organizational, abstract reasoning, logical, mechanical, verbal, visual and numerical. The 3 dimensions you scored highest on combine to make you an Information Organizer. Only 6 out of 1,000 people have this rare combination of abilities.

Hmmm... 80 is the minimum IQ you can have without being considered mentally challenged. Like I said, the site is good for a laugh, but don't give 'em any money.

Okay, I'm really going to bed this time.

A Blogging We Will Go

2005-12-27T23:09:00.000-06:00

I went shopping today. Spent four hours on my feet, and my butt's a draggin.' Hubby is laying in bed shooting the ceiling with his new airsoft gun. Yup, he's strange, but so cute!

And if you tilt your head just so, you can see how cute. That was on his 34th birthday, which was in August.

Ugh. I can't figure out how to rotate the picture. Anybody out there know how?

Oh well, all that was to say that I'm beat, so I'm going to bed. Speaking of birthdays, my 32nd is coming up in a few days. Wow, it feels really weird to be in my thirties. I figure I'll get used to it about the time I head into my forties. It's cool, though. I remember being a kid and thinking I would never live to see 25, let alone 32. So I won't gripe about getting old [I'm not even close, yet.]

Anyway, 'night, y'all.

Mwhaahaahaaa!!

2005-12-27T02:14:00.000-06:00

"S, your Super IQ score is 133

Your overall intelligence quotient is the result of a scientifically-tested formula based on how many questions you answered correctly. But it's only part of what we learned about you from your answers on the test. We also determined the way you process information.The way you think about things makes you an Imaginative Mastermind. This means you are an extremely talented person, with a wide range of skills. There is little to nothing you can't do if you want to. You're very creative and you can express your ideas effectively through a variety of different means whether it's written or spoken words, numbers, or anything else. You also have a practical knowledge of how things work in the world — you've been paying attention and you pick things up easily.
How did we determine that your thinking style is that of an Imaginative Mastermind? When we examined your test results further, we analyzed how you scored on 8 dimensions of intelligence: spatial, organizational, abstract reasoning, logical, mechanical, verbal, visual and numerical. The 3 dimensions you scored highest on combine to make you an Imaginative Mastermind. Only 6 out of 1,000 people have this rare combination of abilities."

Imaginative Mastermind. Sounds pretty good, don't you think? I got a good laugh out of it, anyway! I'm a sucker for tests like this, though. Always have been. I used to love getting Seventeen magazine as a kid and filling out the tests, "What's Your Fashion Style? Does He Really Love You? What Kind of Flirt Are You?" Are those great titles or what? Who can resist them? Not I. So when I stumbled upon Tickle's* website, well, it was almost like heaven.

To get the report on the full results of the IQ test, you have to shell out $10, but the test is fun, [at least it was for me, but then I love all things brain-teaser, so your mileage may vary, but if you're interested, go here] And, if you like taking tests online, here are a bunch of them. They're free to take, but to get the full results, you have to pay for them.

Anyway, I had fun with the IQ test, so I thought I'd pass it along. I don't know how accurate it is from a scientific standpoint, but there you go. Let me know if you like it.

* I haven't examined all the tests available at this website, so it's possible that some of it is offensive. Don't look at those, okay?

Another test result [I told you I love these things!]

"What Breed of Dog Are You?
S, you're a Collie!

No bones about it, you're a loyal, nurturing Collie. A sensitive breed, you're always approachable and very in tune with others' feelings — just like Lassie! Because of your empathetic nature, you tend to be the group psychologist to your circle of friends. Your faithful, easygoing, steadfast personality makes you a wonderful confidant; people love to come to you with their troubles. Bottom line? You're a star at interpersonal relationships and have a knack for making new friends and acquaintances wherever you go. After all, what's a Collie without a flock to look after? Since you're so giving, your buddies might not realize that you need them just as much as they need you, so make sure not to neglect yours truly. Everyone deserves some "me" time. Woof! "

Hee hee. Okay, go have some fun, and come back and tell me your results if you want.

Oh Yeah, I hope everyone had a great holiday. Ours was really good in spite of the sick kids. Every one was pleased with their gifts. I got hubby an Air Soft gun that shoots vinyl BBs. His instructors used them when he was in the Academy [you miss a question and they shot you in the back... no permanent damage, and George, big dork that he is, thought it was funny.]

So yesterday, he was getting ready for work, and had me shoot him in the back of the leg. I was about 12 feet from him, but it left a big knot on the back of his thigh. He jumped around for a minute or two, which was worth seeing, I must admit. But I almost felt guilty for hurting him. Almost, but not quite. I think I'll stick to target practice on inanimate objects from now on, though.

I am sitting at the computer listening to K-Love online [if you like contemporary Christian music, go there now and listen, they are one of the best Christian stations in the country]. I mention that because I am listening through the new speakers my hubby got me. The old ones were horrible. One didn't work at all and the other one vibrated if you turned it up too loud. These work perfectly, and words can't express how wonderful that is.

Some very dear friends got me a gift card to Borders, which is where I plan to spend a good portion of my afternoon tomorrow.

*Side note: My town doesn't have any privately owned mainstream book stores. We are a city of about 65 or 70 thousand, and we have several religious bookstores, but that's it. I mention that because the best way to help support your favorite authors is to buy from locally owned and operated bookstores. There's a big explanation for it that I don't have the energy to go into right now [and others have done it, better... I will try to find a link tomorrow].

For now, though, it's after 3a.m. here, and I need some sleep.

Merry Christmas!

2005-12-25T02:36:00.000-06:00

My two oldest kids were sick all night and we had to go to the Christmas Eve service at church. My son slept in the pew the whole night. Our skit came off without a hitch [A minor miracle! It was the first time we had gotten it right... somehow we usually manage to pull stuff off when it really matters.] In five minutes, we made the audience laugh and then cry, so I'd say that's pretty good.

Hubby's song was awesome. I am still amazed every time that man opens his mouth and beautiful melodies fly out of it. I always pray that he will do well, partly because I love him and want him to succeed. But also because when a song is well-done, it has the power to move you and change you, hopefully to make you better.

Songs created a mood, and an off-note can screw that up completely [sometimes... there have been times when all he could manage was to stand up and cry, and that moved people too.] Horribly off-key voices, for me at least, distract from the message of the song. Which is why I'm really glad that he rarely misses a note [it does happen, just not often.]

At some point [probably after the holidays] he's going to go to some of the local funeral homes and offer to sing at funerals. It's a little morbid, I guess, but he loves to sing and would love to be able to do it more. Barring a miracle 'discovery,' weddings, funerals, and church services may be the best way to get to do that.

I would love for him to be able to sing for a living, if that's what he wants. I doubt that he will quit troopin' any time soon, though. I asked him if he'd quit if we won $10 million from Publisher's Clearing House, and the answer was a definite 'no.' He loves his job, and I'm okay with that. There are times when I let worry for his safety creep in, but I'm usually able to pray about it [and call him to make sure he's okay and tell him to be extra careful... as if he wouldn't be otherwise] and let it go.

Anyway, Christmas is here! We were able to get all of our shopping done, and I don't think the kids will be disappointed.

We will also read the Christmas story from Luke 2, which says

The Birth of Jesus

1At that time the Roman emperor, Augustus, decreed that a census should be taken throughout the Roman Empire. 2(This was the first census taken when Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3All returned to their own towns to register for this census. 4And because Joseph was a descendant of King David, he had to go to Bethlehem in Judea, David's ancient home. He traveled there from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. 5He took with him Mary, his fiancÃÂ©, who was obviously pregnant by this time.
6And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born. 7She gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the village inn.

The Shepherds and Angels 8That night some shepherds were in the fields outside the village, guarding their flocks of sheep. 9Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord's glory surrounded them. They were terribly frightened, 10but the angel reassured them. "Don't be afraid!" he said. "I bring you good news of great joy for everyone! 11The Savior--yes, the Messiah, the Lord--has been born tonight in Bethlehem, the city of David! 12And this is how you will recognize him: You will find a baby lying in a manger, wrapped snugly in strips of cloth!"
13Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others--the armies of heaven--praising God:

14 "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to all whom God favors.[a]" 15When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, "Come on, let's go to Bethlehem! Let's see this wonderful thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."
16They ran to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. 17Then the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. 18All who heard the shepherds' story were astonished, 19but Mary quietly treasured these things in her heart and thought about them often. 20The shepherds went back to their fields and flocks, glorifying and praising God for what the angels had told them, and because they had seen the child, just as the angel had said. [taken from the New Living Translation]

Merry Christmas, all, and have a blessed New Year!

It Is Finished

2005-12-24T00:10:00.000-06:00

My stint in holiday shopping madness is officially over. If I didn't get it today, I ain't gettin' it. I spent part of the evening wrapping hubby's gifts. Then I wasted several hours watching TV. I watched network TV until the news was half over, then I watched Newlyweds on MTV.

The plan for the rest of my evening [now that it's after midnight] is to shower, meditate and go to sleep.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and the kids are getting more excited the closer we get. I'm a little nervous about the service tomorrow night. We don't have our skit completely memorized yet, and I'm not sure if there's gonna be time tomorrow.

George goes to work at five, and he works until three in the morning tonight, so I'm sure he's gonna want to sleep late. We may have to set an alarm and get up anyway.

Maybe I'll set the coffee pot, too.

Only Two Shopping Days Left, Boys and Girls

2005-12-22T23:01:00.000-06:00

And we're not done yet. At this rate, we should be ready for Christmas by New Year's. Oh well. We went to the church to practice our Christmas skit [called Glad Tidings]. And so Steve could practice his song, 'Oh Holy Night.' We still have to finish memorizing the skit, but I think we're close, and the song is really high, but really good.

Tomorrow is the only day I will have to do my shopping before Christmas, so I'm just gonna have to bite the bullet and do it. I guess if you hear from me tomorrow, you'll know I survived it!

Anyway, it's late, and life is hectic, so I'm gonna go. I'm thinking that unless something major comes up that I just have to blog about, this may be a short diary entry for a few days.

You never know, though, I had planned on skipping Sundays, but I always have something to talk about. My writing on my novel is at a temporary standstill. But I'm still writing every day, so I don't feel too bad about it. My goal is to have it written, revised, polished, and sent out by this time next year. I'm hoping to have it finished before that, but since this is my first time for actually finishing one, I figure a year isn't too bad.

Anyway, if things go nuts and I don't get a chance to say it, Merry Christmas!

And Sometimes, Wednesdays Are Good

2005-12-21T22:51:00.000-06:00

Yes, it's true dear friends. I not only survived teaching, but enjoyed it. Most of the time, it's easier for me to love kids when I don't have to actually interact with them [horrid of me, I know, but I don't have a lot of patience, and when kids get crazy-rude, it drives me nuts!]

The kids were rowdy, but for the most part, it was because they were having fun. There's a difference between that and repeatedly ignoring directions and being rude to other kids and to the teacher. The deliberate disobedience as a power struggle is what drives me nuts. I hate getting into power struggles with kids because as the adult, I can't let them win. Ever. If they choose to discuss the matter with me, that's different, but deliberate 'I don't have to listen to you,' is fifteen shades of bad.

Thankfully, I didn't have any of that tonight, but I think it's because I genuinely care about them, and they know it. We played and got horrible-messy, but it was all in good fun, so I'm okay with that.

You know, when we first moved up here [about a year and a half ago], the children's directors asked me if I liked working with the kids. I was honest and said 'no.' My husband and I were the youth leaders in our church several years ago [when I was a brand new, never been to church before except for Vacation Bible School, Christian.] Hoo boy, was that awful! I still don't understand teens most of the time, [in my defense, I didn't get them when I was one, either.] But I am getting better.

Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps.

So, anyway, I left the church actually feeling better than when I arrived [and got an ever so slightly smug 'I had a feeling that might happen.' from the husband afterward. Grrr. If he wasn't so cute, I'd have to smack him.] That's kind of how it's supposed to go, so things are good.

Oh yeah, the furnace is fixed! Yay, George!! The estimates to replace the part were $150-$170, which was going to put a serious damper on Christmas shopping [no, I'm not done yet. I am one of the few women on the planet who hates shopping with a passion, so I put it off as long as possible!] But, hubby went to the service store with the broken part, and the guy there was able to find a little doo-hickey to replace the one that was broken, and voila!! We have heat!!

Remember last night when I said things always get better if you can hold on? They really do. So don't give up.

Winter Woes

2005-12-20T23:14:00.000-06:00

Our furnace in our house went out today, and it's 16 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I am running a kerosene heater, which stinks to high heaven, until hubby gets off work and goes to get an electric space heater. We have one in our room [because it's in the back of the house and only has one vent], but the kids need heat, too.

This is pretty annoying, though. And cold. It seems like it's always one thing after another. There's something wrong with our van, too [our only means of transportation]. It runs, but not willingly. It sounds like it's not running on all six cylinders, and the exhaust smells like unburned gasoline. God only knows what the problem is there.

The kerosene fumes make my eyes burn and my stomach upset, so I'm thinking that's probably not a good thing. I wasn't planning on running it all night anyway, because you just never know, and we have three little kids sleeping in the house, so I'm not taking any chances with carbon monoxide.

We finally put up the Christmas tree today. I've been putting it off since Thanksgiving. Christmas isn't my favorite time of year. I know, I know, that's not the kind of thing you usually hear from one of them there bornagainers, but there you have it. There's just Too Much, you know?

As a general rule, I try to keep my stress level to a minimum. My depression is aggravated by stress, along with my Fibro symptoms, so avoiding stress is a necessity if I want to function at all. Minor to moderate stress is unavoidable a lot of the time in my house [three kids, a dog and a husband contribute quite a bit]. Add church on Wednesdays and twice on Sundays, and that's about all I can handle comfortably.

Holiday get-togethers with friends and family are great, but draining. Even when I have fun, I'm still pretty done-in afterward. Meditation helps, but the funny thing is, when I need it most is when I manage it the least. Which begins the cycle of depression. Which is why December sucks.

That, and money is tight around here, so there isn't much extra for Christmas gifts. Okay, there isn't any extra, we just fake it. And that makes me sad. I shouldn't be, my kids and I have enough clothes, food, and shelter [albeit a cold-kerosene-stinky one right now] but when they make the 'list' and I can only manage a couple of the less expensive things on it, it's hard.

You want to give your kids their heart's desire, you know? I don't want to spoil them, and I don't want to give them so much that they begin to think they're entitled to the world on a platter, but I wish I could do more.

My oldest wants to take dance lessons so badly, and it's just not possible. So I ordered her a couple of 'how to dance' DVD's, hoping she can learn a little bit by herself, and that it will be enough. She also loves art [so do I] but art supplies are expensive. They all love music, and I would love for them to have music lessons.

It's all stuff they don't need in order to live, but can add so much to their lives. Music, drama, art, and writing are all things that I adore doing, and am fairly good at, but I often wonder if I'd had private lessons [or more classes offered at school], if I might have been exceptional at them.

It's one of those things I'll just never know. With my personality, I might have given up even if I'd had lessons, but I wish I'd had the chance to try. And that's what I want to give to my kids. The chance to try everything and find out what they like and don't like, and what they're good at. And what they suck at.

Maybe it will give them a better idea of their potential at a younger age, and they won't be wandering around at 30 still trying to figure out what they want to be 'when they grow up.'

In my worse moments, those are the things I think about at Christmas.

In my better moments, I am filled with awe at the miracle of Christ's birth. God making himself into a helpless human infant, totally dependent on a teenaged mother and a step-dad who may or may not love him. Wow. That was a pretty big gamble.

I am thankful for all that I have, even in my weaker moments when all I can see is what isn't perfect. My kids are healthy. We have a home. And there will be gifts under the tree. I never forget that there are people who don't have those things. I am truly blessed, and in the ways that really matter, I am rich.

Things are a little tilted in my life right now, but it will even out again, and get better. It always does if you can hold on.

Sleepy Post... Again

2005-12-20T00:18:00.000-06:00

You think there's a theme here? I don't have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or I've never been officially diagnosed with it, but I have been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, which is loads of fun.

The disease name means "muscle pain," which is largely what it is. I also have hypoglycemia, which for some reason often goes along with the disease.

I don't talk about it much because the whole thing just pisses me off. But, fibro [and possible CFS] is probably why I'm so tired all the time, and we went to a Christmas party that was a dessert party, and I ate dessert, so I'm twitchy, tired, and needing to eat some protein before bed. And we're running low on protein foods because I've been avoiding Wal-Mart like the plague with all the shoppers out.

So I'm just a mess, ain't I? I need to watch my diet better, but it's expensive as hell to try to eat strictly low-glycemic index foods. Why is it that the healthy foods are the most expensive, and the most processed, least natural stuff is what I can afford?

I'm feeling all whiney tonight, can you tell? I'm gonna go drink some milk and go to bed.

More On Politics. Yup, I'm Still Confused

2005-12-19T00:28:00.000-06:00

So I'm reading here about George W. and his spying without warrants, and I am concerned. He has justified his actions in his own mind and believes that the American people have given him permission to do whatever he "needs to do to protect the nation," even if it violates our rights.

Jeez, I understand how he came to the conclusion [rationalization] but I keep having thoughts of the KGB and Hitler and God knows who else who have spied on their own people to find perceived enemies.

I'm not saying that Al Qaeda aren't our enemies, there's no question that they are, but I'm not sure I can justify the President's actions. I feel like he believes that he has more authority than the other two branches of government. He put in an executive order that allowed the spying, and apparently didn't ask anyone else what they thought about it. That sounds wrong to me.

I am really tired now, it's 1:30 in the morning as I write this, but I was looking up a definition of what our government looks like to me. I found this article. We're supposed to be capitalist, which is basically every man for himself business-wise. It means that you can do anything [legal] you want for a living, and that businesses are owned by the private sector, and that government is representative of every one equally, poor and rich alike.

But that's not what I see in our country anymore. It looks to me like it's getting harder and harder for the poor and the 'just over poor' to be heard. If you don't have any money, you don't have a voice. People pay lobbyists to champion their causes in the government. If you're poor, how can you pay someone to be your voice? You can't.

Our country appears to be run by the people with the money, with the rest of us just along for the ride. The word for that that I found is called "Corporatist," which says basically that the big companies are in cahoots with the government and that together they get to make all the decisions.

So where does that leave me? Where does that leave most of the people I know?

I've been writing about great big gobs of depressing stuff in the past week. Between Rwanda, the Sudan and Congo, and the poor in the U.S. I've been feeling pretty helpless to make a difference anywhere. And in the back of my mind, I've been thinking, "If I had more money, I could do more to help. If I had money, I could make people hear me."

And it's true. If I was a famous writer who was blogging about this, or if I was Oprah, people would be jumping out of their chairs to go call their congressmen about Congo, or the sad state of the foster care system in America. As it is, maybe 15 or 20 people will read this, and maybe one of those people will have the power that I lack to change things. Or maybe not.

I'm not giving up, not by any means, but I am frustrated. I'm not very good with the patience thing, and change always takes time.

What concerns me about President Bush, is that he isn't one of us. He is extremely rich and powerful, and has a lot of friends who have great gobs of money, who are also powerful. And I can't help but wonder if his concern is really for us, the faceless [not rich] masses, or if his loyalty lies elsewhere.

I pray that I am wrong, and that he really does care about the little guy. But my instincts tell me he probably doesn't, and that sucks.

Post #32. Done in 20 Minutes and 21 Seconds

2005-12-17T23:20:00.000-06:00

I was gonna do 10 minutes, but I just don't type that fast! I'd get about here and have to quit. Okay, maybe I'm not that slow, but pretty close.

I watched "Fahrenheit 9/11" by Michael Moore tonight. Historically, I have been opposed to this movie on principle, but because of some stuff that's been happening in the government of my home state, I've been questioning my Republican-ness, and wanted to see what the other side had to say.

I expected a strongly slanted, one-sided, left-wing liberal load of crap. What I got was...

Something not quite looking like a complete load of crap. Okay, it was slanted, and I have no idea if everything in it was strictly accurate, but it gave me some food for thought. And some serious frustration with politics as well.

The current scandal in Washington DC is that the President authorized spying on American citizens without warrants. Tapping phone conversations and other stuff. The thing is, I get why he thinks it's okay, and maybe with a person of integrity it is. But man, the potential for corruption is HUGE! No one is above corruption except Jesus, and last time I checked, He wasn't in the flesh anymore.

I have believed the president to be a man of integrity. He openly declares his Christianity, and by association [with Jesus, not with religion] should be a man of integrity. But, by being a politician, I'm wondering if the two cancel each other out. These are the kinds of things that make my brain hurt.

I am struggling like crazy to figure out which party really is the lesser of the two evils. I haven't come to any conclusions yet, but I am doing some research.

'Nuf about the 'whole country situation' for now, though, I have another fish to fry: The Governor of My Home State. Here's the situation, you tell me what you think about it.

I voted for a Republican to become Governor of my home state. He won. Within a month of taking office, he makes huge cuts in a lot of areas, which should be a good thing, balancing the budget and all that.

Here's the deal though. The cuts he made were in the areas of mental health benefits, Medicaid benefits, disability benefits, and he froze the salaries of most of the state employees [which would be a good thing if it were the politicians he froze. (I mean their salaries.) But the people he froze were the low-level state employees.]

He managed to take money from the young, the old, and the crazy. He hurt the people who are the weakest and most helpless in our society. Oh yeah, as he was cutting benefits for the voiceless, he approved funding for a complete renovation of [or rebuilding, I can't remember which] one of our sports stadiums.

How is that good? What about all the people who can't afford their antipsychotics anymore? Or the disabled, the elderly and the children who can't get proper medical care?

How the hell can he justify taking money from babies, the elderly, the disabled, and the mentally ill to build a FREAKING SPORTS STADIUM?!? Is that how all Republicans are? Surely they can't all be heartless, greedy, idiots, can they?

I have so much homework to do on this, and the bad thing is, I have no idea who to believe anymore. Any advice for some one coming a little late into the game of thinking?

I hope he doesn't run for re-election, because if he does, I'll have to vote Democrat for the first time in my life. And if things keep going the way they're going, you may be reading a post entitled 'A Conversion Story,' that has nothing to do with Christianity!

Okay, I think I'll probably talk more about politics at some other time, but my time was up a long time ago and I have church tomorrow, so I gotta go to bed.

'Night.

Long Evening, But Good

2005-12-16T23:14:00.000-06:00

Just got the kids to bed about ten minutes ago [11pm]. My oldest had quizzing and since I'm on the children's council at my church, I stayed and helped. Things went so much better than Wednesday night.

The kids are a handful, but I love 'em anyway. Most of them don't have much stability at home, and go to the "title 1 school" [Title one is government money that is given to schools. "It is intended to help ensure that all children have the opportunity to obtain a high quality education and reach grade-level proficiency. Title I funds help students who are behind academically or at risk of falling behind."(quote taken from here) ]

What kills me about these kids is that they may be behind academically, but they're smart. There is so much potential in them, but they could fall through the cracks, in fact, may have already fallen through them.

These kids have parents who, for whatever reason, are unable to give them the care that they need. They all desperately need love and attention and guidance. The parents probably love the kids the best they can, but what if their best isn't enough?

I know that my parents loved me. They did a really good job raising me, too, but there are still things that happened that scarred me. Now, granted, I was an overly sensitive kid who took everything personally, so when Mom went to work to help support us, all I saw was that Mom didn't want to be at home with me anymore... my perception was all screwed up. But the scars that kind of stuff left were just as real as any other emotional scar, and I had to work through them.

Some kids come out of unspeakable home lives and do okay in life. Others perpetuate the cycle of abuse. Still others don't survive at all, either because they die in the situation or they self-destruct.

My brain is a big muddle tonight. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I think of those kids who I helped teach about Jesus tonight, and I know that the odds say that they don't have much chance of making it. Some might think of them as throwaway kids.

But I think about them and my heart screams NO dammit! I want those babies to grow up and live! Good, successful lives. I want them to be happy. I don't want to lose even one of them. I want them to beat the odds.

And I wish I could do more to help them. I wish I could send them to college if they want to go. I wish I could protect them from the things they live with that no child should have to deal with. I wish I could help their parents learn to be better parents.

Those are just a few of the things I'd like to do, but can't. I feel helpless and frustrated about it, too.

What I can do, is pray for them. God can do all things, and He doesn't do odds. I can pray, and will [and have been] and maybe as I pray, God will show me some other things I can do as well.

Maybe He'll give me lots of money and I will be able to send them to college!! [I'd like to send myself to college, too!]

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that my hubby got me Starburst today! Yay! No words on my novel, though. Some days are just too crazy to fit it all in.

Okay, I'm tired now, G'Night

Starburst and Heat

2005-12-16T14:39:00.000-06:00

My hunny bun-unny has fixed the heater in the van [it was low on water, which kept the heated water from going into the heating coil, which made it cold... I learned that this morning when he told me All About Our Van's Heater, to which I listened raptly because I love him and I am PRACTICING good listening skills. It occurred to me [as I was reading a book called "True Balance," by Sonia Choquette] that I need to work on my listening skills.

I tend to only half listen to people. I'm usually keeping an eye on the kids, or they are interrupting in one way or another, or I'm thinking about what I want to say next, or I'm distracted by the TV, computer, radio, or other conversation... you get the idea.

I am finding that, no matter what people say to the contrary, you really can't listen to some one and be doing fifteen other things. And people deserve to be listened to. Which includes my family [it's REALLY hard to listen to my kids' sprawling tales of their adventures playing Zelda the Windwaker on GameCube... but I shall endure from now on, no matter how hard it is!! Also, if I don't listen to them now, while they're little, there is a good chance that when they're older, they'll stop talking to me, and that is SO not where I want to go in my relationship with them].

So, I am making a commitment, right here and now, to really listen to people when they talk, and not just with my ears, but with my heart as well.

Grrr Argh

2005-12-16T00:12:00.000-06:00

Hubby changed the thermostat in our van today in the hopes that it would heat better. Now it only blows cold air. He went to Wal-Mart and I asked for chocolate, he said no, so I asked for Starburst. He said okay. He just got back... no Starburst!

Most days, he's so close to perfect he makes me sick. Then there are days like today, when I am reminded that yes, he is human... but he's still in trouble. Something not quite right there!

Nah, just kidding, but the no Starburst thing did annoy me.

I cut his hair today, then I cut my son's hair. I use the clippers because it's easier, but the little one doesn't like the buzzing, so I had to use SCISSORS. Which has always been a bit traumatic for me. I've tried numerous times [generally without success] to cut my own hair with scissors. The first time I tried it, I went out in a baseball cap to buy my first pair of clippers.

Then my hair was all one length, but it was one inch long! So, when my dad and uncle asked for haircuts, I had the clippers to do it [hubby still had long hair back then.] No problem. Then when hubby decided to 'get a haircut and get a real job,' it was still no problem, since the new job required almost military-style haircut [although we don't go quite that short, his co-workers tease him about his GQ hair style.]

And now the boy. After his last haircut, he announced that he was never getting another haircut again because he doesn't like the tickles. So I let him go for a really long time without one. But then, the comments from the peanut gallery [aka family that I love... Hi guys! heh heh]. Plus comments from his older sister ["Mom," she says while looking up at me through her eyelashes, twisting her mouth to the side like Popeye, and nodding her head, "We REALLY need to cut his hair," then she starts shaking her head, "It's looking PRETTY BAD!" More head bobbing and a few giggles. Thanks, kid.]

So I did it! I got the freaking scissors out and trimmed his hair. I couldn't bring myself to cut the curls off the sides and back, though, so mostly I just shortened the top a little. I also have a hard time getting things even [hence the stupid clippers!] so by leaving parts of it long, maybe it covers up any mistakes.

Maybe I should go to haircuttin' school.

Nah. Too much time standing... sheesh, I'd be dead before the first day ended.

This is becoming a bedtime ritual, I think. It's like I can't go to bed without blogging, and since I already blogged earlier today, this is my second blog, but since it's after midnight, it's my first, but, oh hell, I'm tired, can you tell?

'Kay, bye!

Words, Words, Words

2005-12-15T16:31:00.000-06:00

I got about 1,000 on my novel today, so I'm excited! I expanded the scene from yesterday [that I really didn't get to work on much] and liked what I got. It's a first draft, so it needs work, but it adds to the troubles one of my main characters is going to have to deal with, and you know, the main character must suffer!!

I like my main characters, though, and they're kids, which makes being mean to them difficult, but since I can't imagine writing a book with a sad ending, I'm pretty sure they'll come out of it okay.

There is more good news. I had fun while I was writing! No, I mean fun, like the fun I have when I blog [which is a lot]. The story is developing, and I am looking forward to sitting down and finding out what happens next, which is a little different than my previous attempts.

Before, my damned Internal Editor would take over and undermine the story, but I've finally managed to tie her up and lock her in a closet in the back of my brain. I can hear her banging around back there, but the noise is much more manageable, and she ain't coming out till I'm done!

Yay, me!!

The pressure I was putting on myself to do it right the first time has let up so much. I've finally given myself permission to write, no matter what the words are. I'm not shying away from anything anymore, and that, my friends, is a bona fide miracle!

I don't know if this is normal or not, but blogging is opening the doors to my creativity like nothing else ever has. It's just different, writing something that I know will be read by at least one other person [thanks mom!].

It's like there has been a shift in my brain. Before, I would start stories and begin to second guess what my plan was almost immediately. I'd tweak it fifty times before I ever wrote a word, and by the time I was done tweaking, the idea didn't even remotely resemble what I'd started out to write. And it pretty much sucked. By blogging, I pick something, write it, publish it, and then it's not mine anymore, so I can't second guess myself.

I am able to distance myself from the previous posts enough that the urge to go back and 'fix' them is all but gone. That's something I've never been able to do before. Now, I'm able to write however many words of fiction and I don't have to re-read or second guess.

It's funny because I griped one day about how I needed to edit my previous posts more, [still haven't done that*g*] but what I really needed was to learn how to NOT edit all the damned time. I'm not editing a word of my manuscript until the first draft is completely finished. If I need to, I'll put a sticky note in the file where I forgot to put something in, but the edit will wait.

As for my blog posts, I'm thinking what you see is what you get, good, bad or ugly. Maybe I'll edit them someday after the kids move out and I have some free time. Bwahahahaaa!!!!!

Blog ya later!

Wednesday Woes

2005-12-14T22:18:00.000-06:00

If you don't do the church thing, you may not know this, but a lot of churches have a midweek service [usually Wednesdays]. My church does, and we usually go. The theory behind a midweek service is that you recharge your spiritual batteries, which is brilliant. In theory. The reality for me, is that I get to see people that I care about, which is good. As for the battery thing, well, I tend to do better with that alone.

Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest. It is supposed to be a time when we focus on our relationship with God. I do learn things at church [sometimes they're even things about God!]

My Sunday School class is awesome. We're reading "Waking the Dead," by John Eldridge, which is an excellent read, and we have an exceptional teacher who is passionate about the class and loves to teach, so it's a good place to be. I do my best to make it every week because I want to, not because I have to.

Our Sunday worship service is pretty traditional, in that we sing songs, sit in pews, and listen to a sermon. The worship service is kinda hit or miss with me. There are days when I can feel God's presence from the moment I enter the Sanctuary. It's like He and I are having a conversation that may or may not have anything to do with what's going on with the songs or sermon.

Then there are other days when I can't concentrate on anything during the service. I'm thinking about lunch and the rings of Saturn and will I be lucky enough to get the kids to take a nap because I'm so freaking tired from getting up early and rushing around like a madwoman to get every one up and ready for church and why is it that we never get to church on time and blah blah blah... on and on until we're dismissed. On those days, I couldn't tell you a word of the sermon or what it was about.

But, I've come to realize that I'm more of an interactive person, and it's a lot easier for me to pay attention when there is an active discussion going on, [or when I might get called on to read or answer a question.] I do better in small group discussion type settings.

Which is why I go to Sunday night Bible study. Good friends, good discussion, the presence of God all mixed up together [with snacks!] man, that's the stuff of heaven!

It's also exhausting. Sunday as a day of rest. Yeah right. And Wednesday as a battery recharge just doesn't happen for me. Wednesday nights are exhausting, too. Which is why I'm talking in circles, here. I can't think straight!

Some people are energized by crowds, I am drained by them. The louder the crowd, the more I shut down afterward. Tonight was ridiculously loud and crowded.

I knew it would be, so I meditated for a few minutes before we left. And that's the thing. My relationship with God tends to grow more when I have quiet moments alone than when I'm in a group.

Sometimes, I will come away from church and realize that there are a few areas in my life that are less than perfect that I need to work on [it's not that I only have a few things I need to work on, it's that God is a merciful God and doesn't want to overwhelm me!]

But sometimes, I'm just tired, and I miss God completely and have to come home to the peace to find Him.

The kids are in bed, hubby is playing video games, and I am blogging. I worked on my novel for about fifteen minutes earlier today. I was excited about a scene I was going to write. It didn't end up getting written today; too much going on in the real world.

Now I sit, drinking Tension Tamer Tea, and thinking of a long hot shower to wash the evening away. I'll meditate, and if I'm lying down when I do it, I'll last about ten minutes before I fall asleep.

The day was long and hard, and in spots, felt like an exercise in futility. But, at the end of it, I am alive and healthy, I have a warm bed to sleep in, and my husband and children are safe. It didn't go like I wanted it to, but God was with me.

Here at home, in the quiet, I feel His peace at last, and I am content.

Hotel Rwanda

2005-12-14T01:33:00.000-06:00

I just finished watching Hotel Rwanda. It is a true story, and I'm still trying to come to grips with that fact.

In 1994, 1,000,000 Rwandans were killed in a Civil War. The war was between the two main groups in Rwanda, the Hutus and the Tutsis. The Hutus killed 1,000,000 Tutsis. They targeted the children because they wanted to prevent the next generation of Tutsis from becoming. The Hutus committed genocide, and no one did anything to help the victims.

Hitler killed 6,000,000 Jews during the holocaust. It took forever for America to get involved, and only after Pearl Harbor did we finally join the war.

The UN knew about the genocide in Rwanda, but pulled their people out anyway. The press reported that there were 'acts of genocide' being committed, but no one would call it what it was. It was the systematic slaughter of one group of people by another. Genocide.

And no one helped them.

Today, the same thing is happening in the Sudan and the Congo, both in Africa.

Again, we are doing nothing to help.

In the movie, a line keeps coming back to me. Nick Nolte's character was telling Don Cheadle's character that no one was coming to help. He said, "You're dirt. You aren't even a nigger. You're an African."

Lower than the worst racial slur we have for black people in this country. Unbelievable.

How is it that we can't see the humanity in each other? How is it that these atrocities happen every day in our world, and we go on with our lives, happy, too well-fed, and spoiled?

God, I see this, and I feel so damned helpless. What can I do to change things? Can I really sit in my recliner and do nothing? I know about it now. Can I go back to the life I have and never give the people who are suffering and dying horrible deaths another thought?

And if I do, what kind of person does that make me?

I am horrified and ashamed. I don't have a clue what I can do to help, but there has to be something.

I don't want to go back to being complacent. I may not be able to change the world, but maybe I can put my little spark of energy toward bringing good into the world and helping any way I can.

I'm emotionally drained. I put off watching this movie because I knew I would be. I don't think I'm being coherent, and I wish I was. I wish I could be as eloquent as the people in Africa deserve.

I'm sorry I'm not better at this, but I'm not giving up. Don't you give up, either.

How I Became a Reader and Writer

2005-12-12T21:05:00.000-06:00

Holly Lisle had an interesting article linked to her blog from December 10. She wanted to know how we became readers and writers [sometimes in spite of public school]. I forced myself out of lurk-y-land and answered, but it got way too long, so I decided to put it over here.

And now I find that in all my clicking to get over here, the damned thing flew into cyberspace, and now I have to start over! Ach!

Oh well, here we go again.

I currently homeschool my oldest daughter who is seven. I have a five year old son and a two year old daughter as well, so I'm not the most consistent in my teaching. I have been thinking about sending her to second grade next year at public school [I don't think I've done enough to get her ready for third grade, which is what she's ready for age-wise.]

My son will be old enough to go to Kindergarten next year, and I have been sorely tempted to send him to public school as well. My motivation for wanting to, however, was more about me thinking, "I could get so much done with just one kid around!" than what is actually best for him. That's horrible, I know, but I've changed my mind now, so no harm done. I'm definitely waiting until he and my youngest are at least seven.

I'm thinking we'll go ahead and put my oldest in school next year, though. In the past month, she has gone from thinking she could only read words from the Hooked on Phonics workbook, to reading everything she can get her hands on. Today when I told her she was too old to drink out of a sippy cup [I said something like, "I don't think the other seven year olds still drink out of sippy cups," She looked at me and said, "I'm not one of them." I was too proud to get onto her about her attitude!] I have her write in her journal every day, and she's already making up stories!

Which is something I never did at her age.

Which is where I begin the sad tale that is the life of Shelbi at school. Sheesh, reading that article about public school, and the comments over at Holly's blog, bring back such awful memories. Well, here goes.

I was always a sensitive kid, and "old" for my age, but I was pretty well-adjusted, self-confident, and happy, until I started Kindergarten. The difference between what I thought school would be, compared to what it actually was, stole my confidence, and my voice. I am just now, at 31, finding what I lost twenty six years ago.

The first day of school, I was so excited. I just knew that I was going to make so many new friends, and learn about everything! I was finally going to learn multiplication, and how to write in cursive, and lots of other stuff so amazing, I couldn't even imagine it. After the first day, I was thinking [and may have actually said to my dad] "I waited all my life for THAT?!" From first grade on, at the beginning [and the end] of the school year, I mentally counted how many more years I had to be in that place. At six years old, eleven years was freakin' forever!

It was probably first grade when I had my first bout of depression. I don't think they knew kids could get depressed back in 1981, so it went untreated, and plagued me at least once a year, until I started Zoloft for post-partum depression after my son was born. It wasn't until after I felt better that I realized I had suffered from major depression for so long. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if we'd figured it out earlier.

Anyway, I could read by the end of kindergarten [and may have been able to read before that. I know that I could write my letters and spell a few words before I started kindergarten, so maybe I could read, too.]

Things went off-kilter pretty quickly in first grade. My teacher was one of the prettiest ladies I'd ever seen, and I remember thinking that she would be the best teacher yet. She turned out to be the cruelest, screaming-est woman that ever walked the face of the earth. She yelled herself hoarse more than once at my class that year.

I remember one time, I hadn't had breakfast and I was starving. We were making some weird art project where we had to glue cereal [I think it was Kaboom] onto a piece of paper. She only gave us a small handful, and ordered us not to eat it. I glued mine onto my paper, but later, couldn't resis,t and ate the cereal off of it, glue and all. She yelled at me in front of the class, and made me feel horrible. I knew then that she hated me. [I did say I was sensitive. I would replay the scenes in my head of all the times she got mad at me that year, and sink further away.]

By the end of the school year, I had begun a pattern that would plague me all through school and into college. I was chronically late with homework, many times never turning it in at all. I just sat and daydreamed. I invented worlds and scenarios in my head that were way more interesting that the pathetic thing that was my life. I always passed my classes, though. The teachers would keep me in from recess until I got the crap done.

It helped that I was smart. But even though I knew how to read and had a vivid imagination, I rarely read stories that weren't assigned [with a million questions to answer afterward]. And I never wrote my imagined stories down.

On a few occasions, I would try to write a poem or short story. I got passing grades, but I wasn't one of the kids who got singled out for anything. If I was good at it, I wasn't good enough. I was shy, quiet, and invisible in elementary school, loud, obnoxious and not to be taken seriously in jr. high and high school, and no one knew who my parents were [it was a small school and the teacher's kids were always the 'darlings' of the class. My high school counselor was the mom of one of my classmates, and when it came time for scholarships, she made sure her daughter applied for all the right ones. When my turn came for the 'counseling session,' she handed me a scholarship application for the local community college and gave me no guidance in filling it out. Her daughter took the ACT (kinda like the SATs) three times to get a 30 out of 36 on it so she could get a 'bright flight scholarship.' I took it once and got a 27. When I asked the counselor if I needed to take it again, she said, "No, you did good enough." Never even offered me an application for any of the scholarships her daughter was going for. Sorry I ranted, that whole thing still pisses me off.]

Anyway, I may have sucked at writing when I was in school. Heaven knows I didn't really apply myself.

After high school, I went to college for a year on a pell grant [never did apply for a scholarship]. I took a couple of English classes, and maybe a creative writing class, but I just couldn't plug in. I still hated school, and college felt just like high school, only bigger. I applied for their one year LPN [nursing] program and got in the first time.

The first semester, I got a 4.0 just by listening in class. I hardly cracked a book. During the second semester, which fell during my yearly bout of 'recurrent major depression,' I didn't do my homework [clinical papers: boring busy work designed to show that you know what you're doing and why, but a royal pain in the ass and not the least bit creative or fun.] I had a natural feel for taking care of sick people, knew the stuff even if I wouldn't write it down, passed all my tests with a high B average, and got kicked out anyway for not doing my homework. That was pretty awful.

But, I was an avid reader of anything not school-oriented by the time I was in junior high. My mom always bought me these big sets of hardback books. Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women" series and several others she wrote was one set. L.M. Montgomery's "Anne of Green Gables" series was another. There was one set of 'classics,' that had "National Velvet by Enid Bagnold[which I never read] and several others. The only one of those I read was "I Am the Cheese," by Robert Cormier and that was because it was listed in some goofy teen magazine as River Phoenix's favorite book (see this entry for the explanation of River Phoenix, if you're interested) She also got me "Flowers in the Attic," by V.C. Andrews, but I am sure that she had no idea what that story was about. I think she saw the covers and they had kids on the front and thought, "I bet Shel would like those." It still makes me laugh, and if she ever read them, she was probably a little embarrassed.

I've been reading everything I can get my hands on ever since, but Anne Shirley and Jo March were always, and still are, my favorite characters of all time. I related to both of them so well. They were a little quirky, most people didn't understand them, and they were writers!

With those two stories, the tiniest germ of a dream began for me, hidden way back in the recesses of my brain. Buried away for centuries until one day [and I swear, I'm not making this up!] I was surfing the web, looking up writing links on a [not so much] whim. I found several sites, and one of them recommended Holly Lisle's Website. I followed the link, read all of the articles in a couple of days [the husband and kiddies weren't very happy with me!] and was hooked. I knew without a doubt that I needed to write.

I finally came to terms with my dream of being a writer, and began to believe that I could do this thing. It's been a rocky road so far, though [and I ain't talkin' ice cream, either]. I've had three false starts on three different novels, all with very different plots [and problems, the biggest of which has been my own inconsistency in committing my time and energy into just writing the stupid thing, even if it sucks.] But, I've taken inventory, which I'll talk about some other time, and found some characters, and the beginnings of a story line that I really like, and it's clamoring to be written. And so, I've begun again.

And this time, I will do it, 'come hell or high water.'

Okay, that's it. The grand saga leading up to the beginning of the story. I started blogging to get in the habit of writing every day. My entries aren't always Breathtaking Masterpieces of Spectacular Prose, [okay, I've never had one of those]. There are still typos in some of them [I blogged about that one day, and never got around to editing my other posts]. And, I'm sometimes boring, but dammit I'm writing! And that's what matters.

Okay, I'm done.

Too Tired To Blog...

2005-12-11T21:49:00.000-06:00

Had a busy day. Sunday School+Church+Christmas Party for the Kids+Bible Study=on the go from 6:30am to 9:30pm with all three kids... I'm pooped. I'm goin' ta bed.

'Night.

40 Minutes and 13 Seconds Plus 14 Minutes and 27 Seconds Equals

2005-12-10T15:53:00.000-06:00

1106 words on my novel. Working title: The Watson Kids Move to Hopeton.

I had hoped that by timing myself, I would be able to get around my constant need to second guess and revise as I go along [which prevents me from getting any words down at all]. I do believe it worked!!!

[hallelujah Chorus' plays in the background, followed closely by Beethoven's 'Ode to Joy']

Now I'm off to do something else... for forty minutes and thirteen seconds!!!

Woo hoo!!

Blog Ya Later, Dudes!

Forty Minutes, Thirteen Seconds and Counting...

2005-12-10T13:48:00.000-06:00

That's how much time I'm giving myself to blog today. I made the kids lay down after lunch and I'm gonna write like crazy on this for 40 minutes and 13 seconds. Then I'm gonna write like crazy on my novel for, you guessed it, forty minutes and thirteen seconds.

Why forty minutes and thirteen seconds, you ask? Well, it's a rather mundane answer, but this is what it is. I pushed the wrong button by accident [hit the seconds button on the timer instead of the minutes button.] Yup. That's it. The magnificent secret behind the 40 minutes and 13 seconds.

I'm down to 38 minutes.

Okay, here's some dumb trivia for you. I read somewhere that Scientologists [what Tom Cruise is] believe that a delivery room should be completely quiet during a baby's birth to prevent undue stress on the baby. They also believe in no pain meds for mom during labor. Now here's the craziness of Tom Cruise that just cracks me up [and irritates the crap out of me].

He bought an ultrasound machine that he plans on using during Katie's pregnancy. I didn't read how often he plans on doing an ultrasound, but some research indicates that the baby can hear the ultrasound even though the sounds emitted cannot be heard by the mother or others in the room. In a five minute search, I found a few articles on this: here, here, and here are just a few, if you're interested.

Okay, now this is what annoys me about Mr. Cruise. Earlier this year, he blasted Brooke Shields about using antidepressants to treat her post-partum depression. He said that he knew all the history of these drugs and that they were dangerous and blah blah blah. And yet, in a five minute search of the internet, you can find half a million articles on whether ultrasound is safe for babies, whether they hear the ultrasound, etc.

Now granted, there are an equal number of articles saying ultrasound has negative effects on the baby [some say it can cause miscarriage in the first trimester, low birth weight, or premature labor], and articles that say that there is no known risk to mom or baby. I don't honestly know who's right, but it's pretty safe to say that the babies hear it.

Since Mr. Cruise believes that excess noise can traumatize a baby, and since he knows every thing there is to know about post-partum depression and how to treat it, and all the evils of antidepressant medications, you'd think he would have done some research on ultrasound procedures and potential risks to the baby [or the noise factor] before buying an ultrasound machine and using it on his own child.

Okay, they didn't say how often he plans on using the thing, but he bought it and put it in his house so 'he can keep an eye on the baby.' I think that's ridiculous.

And that, my friends, is my unasked for, and admittedly very biased opinion of Mr. Tom Cruise and the Ultrasound Machine.

Okay, I still have 20 minutes left, but I did pause it when I went searching for ultrasound stuff, so I'll sign off for now.

Blog Ya Later

An Interestng Evening

2005-12-09T23:12:00.000-06:00

Okay, this is what I've been thinking about for months now, and I'm about to share it with you, dear friends.

Are you ready for this?

I don't know if I am or not.

Well, since I don't know how to do anything without jumping in with both feet, here goes.
I've been thinking a lot about other religious traditions and how they relate to me personally. I have tried to come at different religions with an open mind, but with a filter attached. The filter, of course, is the Bible.

I look at each belief, ritual or tradition and compare it to what the Bible says. If it is in direct conflict with what scripture says, I disregard it and move on to the next thing. If it is NOT in direct conflict with scripture, then I look at it and see if I can find a nugget of wisdom that I can use in my own life.

This is how I started experimenting with meditation, which has helped me to control my depression without medication [*note* this is anecdotal evidence only, I am NOT saying that everyone can cure their depression through meditation, but you could give it a try in addition to whatever you are currently doing.]

I think a lot of people tend to disregard and sometimes ridicule any and all religions besides their own, and in doing so, refuse to investigate, learn, or take seriously any traditions that come from other religions. This seems like a big mistake to me. I feel like all religions are a window to our Creator, albeit a warped and somewhat cloudy window [including Christianity]. I don't think any of us have it all right, but I do believe that Christianity holds a key that the other religions don't have.

That is Jesus as the Messiah, the Savior and the Key to a right relationship with God. That is the main difference between Christians and all the other religions. Christianity teaches that we aren't saved by what we do, but by believing that Jesus is the son of God and that he can save us from our own selfishness [sin].

By believing, we accept the gift of salvation and we are set free to live for a higher purpose. We are enabled to grow as close to God as we want to get. And, I believe, we are given a filter through which we can sift any theory, belief, or tradition that piques our interest.

My interests have a mystic bent to them, so I look into a lot of stuff that most people think is pure weirdness. I am fascinated by the 'supernatural' and by the power of the mind to affect every aspect of my life including [but not limited to] my physical health and wellbeing as well as my attitude about the things that occur in my life. What I think about matters and directly affects me in every way [and that's scriptural... what's that verse? 'Whatever is good... something something can't remember exactly something... think on these things.' Looks to me like God was saying focus on the good stuff, the important stuff, the positive stuff... because it matters.]

Some people look at the Bible as the only source for answers to every question or problem they have. While I agree that the Bible is an excellent resource and [aside from prayer] is my main source of wisdom for living, I am also willing to look into other religious or secular traditions for help.

God has used so many books by authors who aren't Christians to help me grow in Christ. I can't count the number of times I've been reading about positive thinking or meditation [or something else labeled 'weird' by my dearly beloved] and I suddenly remember a scripture that I've read a hundred times, but never got before.

Trying things that don't come specifically from Christian authors isn't for every one. To be honest, I haven't mentioned this to any of my Christian friends [until now *grin*] because I've worried that they would think I'm losing my faith, or becoming a freaky new-age-er or something equally as scary. It worries me what people will think, even as I write this. My own husband doesn't understand this particular quirk in my personality, either.

But I don't want to hide this anymore. Sometimes hiding the truth makes the secret a lot worse in your mind that it would be if you just told the world and got it out of your system. I'm kinda hoping that is the case here. I suppose I could be a heretic. But I doubt it. I love Jesus more than ever and not a day goes by that I don't thank Him for guiding me to things that will help me live a better life for Him.

I feel like I've rambled aimlessly, and haven't made much sense, but I'm posting this anyway. If anyone reads this and wants to comment, feel free.

Just click on comments at the bottom of this post and you should see a pop up where you can post. Friends who have my e-mail, let me know if it doesn't work and I'll try to tweak it again.

Blog ya later.

The Great Blob of Blech

2005-12-07T21:09:00.000-06:00

It's 11 degrees here, with about four inches of snow on the ground.

You ever notice how discouragement eats you up from the inside? I was just thinking that I'm feeling pretty discouraged for no apparent reason. The neck is still giving me fits, and I've been running a slight fever, which makes me achy and grumpy. That, coupled with the flexeril, is making for difficult times here at the homestead.

Some days I get depressed. It used to be a lot worse, though. I have struggled with severe depression off and on since I was five. I saw on TV today that depression is just anger turned inward. That sounds about right, I guess. I just know that whatever it is and whatever causes it, it sucks.

So, anyway, depression for me looks like this. The main way I know I'm beginning to feel worse is that I get angry and irritable, and yell at anyone who gets in my way. Then comes the guilt, which leads to more anger and sadness. After my first child was born, I fell into a pit of depression that lasted almost three years until my son was born. It was then that I began taking Zoloft.

I started feeling better almost immediately, but I chalked it up to relief that I was finally going to escape the constant hell I'd been living in for over three years. It was after I began taking Zoloft that I realized that depression had been a major part of my life since childhood. I had almost given up hope of ever feeling better, so when I finally did improve, I was terrified of going off my medicine.

When I got pregnant with my third child, I was worried that they would tell me I had to go off my meds, but the psychiatrist I was seeing said that I could stay on it, and that, if anything, my baby might be calmer and happier because of the meds. I don't think that came true, though.

Anyway, I stayed on Zoloft for about four and a half years. Last October, I finally decided it was time to try going without. I began to wean myself off it slowly. I was on a fairly high dose, so it took a while, but the side effects of trying to go cold turkey were awful, so I decreased gradually over a month or so until I could stop altogether.

Going off my antidepressant was pretty scary, but I wanted to try it and see what would happen. I knew that if I started falling out of control, I could always get back on it. Also, in all the years I had struggled with depression, I had never been so down that I had attempted suicide, so I wasn't worried about going off of it and then killing myself because of it. I just wanted to see if I could figure out a way to control my depression without medicine.

Being able to recognize my own symptoms before they got so out of control I couldn't function anymore was a HUGE help. I knew that if I got really grumpy, or wanted to go hide in a hole somewhere, that it was time for some intervention. I began reading self help books aimed at depression. We can't afford a psychiatrist, so I was on my own. I got several books on positive thinking, and then began looking into meditation, yoga, affirmations, anything that might help me reprogram my brain to be more positive.

The things I've learned that help me most are meditation and creative visualization. I have also learned to listen to my inner talk [that endless litany of statements that fill your mind even when you're not paying attention to them... if your self talk is mostly negative, then you have to stop yourself when you realize what's happening and re-program your mind to say positive things]. You wouldn't believe what hard work that is.

For some reason, my self talk was mostly about how I am not enough. Not good enough, not smart enough, creative enough, pretty enough, gifted, talented, etc. Not worthy of love or success or money. Well, it's an endless load of crap, but you get the idea.

Relaxation and meditation techniques have helped, because the goal is to quiet your mind as much as possible. That's freakin' hard! I can slow it down enough to control most of the destructive thoughts, but when I don't get a chance to meditate, my depression level skyrockets.

Which is why I'm this pathetic blob of self-loathing and blech you see before you today [imagine the blob of blech... go ahead, try it.] I think it's been at least a week since I've meditated, and it's amazing how different I feel right now compared to last week. My depression has been mostly under control since I went off my meds, and the only thing I've changed about myself is my self talk patterns. I consciously think positive thoughts [even if I don't mean them] and I meditate, which helps me slow down enough to hear what [lies] my internal voice is saying, which enables me to contradict her, and speak the truth.

Well, anyway, I'm going to go take a hot shower and soak my aching neck, then I'm gonna meditate and see if I can't get this depression thing under control again.

The Search Begins

2005-12-06T12:53:00.000-06:00

The Dr. gave me a prescription for muscle relaxant to see if it helps my neck. I've taken three since yesterday [every eight hours like the script says]. My muscles are relaxed, but my neck still feels stiff and really sore. It's getting really old. I'm grumpy and yelling at the kids a lot, so I feel like a horrible mother, too. Hubby gets home from work in an hour and I think I'm going to bed when he does.

I read a couple of articles [one is here] by evangelicals who don't like Brian McLaren's books [The Story We Find Ourselves In and A New Kind of Christian.] I guess I can see their points, they think he's a pluralist [some one who believes that there's more than one way to heaven, which, if your a Christian, is some pretty serious heresy.]

There are a few things about McLaren's books that I disagree with as well, such as the notion that there aren't any true miracles, and that Satan is more a 'concept' or force of evil than a person [or former angel]. I'm not saying I believe in the red pitchfork guy, but the concept of Satan and demons [as fallen angels] is one that I don't have a problem with. I think maybe it's a combination of an actual person and an opposing force to God's goodness.

But, in regards to pluralism, I'm still struggling with that. In the Bible, Jesus says, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." That presents a problem with any view that says that all religions lead to God. Jesus said he is the only way to heaven, and that either makes him an egomaniacal fool, or God [and the only god with a bona fide way to heaven]. If he's not God, then I don't see how anyone can call him a great teacher. Usually when someone claims to be god, they end up in a home for crazy people.

But at the same time, I can't just disregard all the other religions in the world. The fact is, most religions come back to similar fundamentals. They refer to doing good things, becoming a good person, resisting evil, etc. So I'm having a hard time saying that if you belong to another religion that teaches goodness and fights against evil, you will definitely go to hell because you haven't accepted Jesus as your savior [that's Christian speak for becoming a follower of Jesus.]

Christianity teaches that you can never be good enough to go to heaven on your own power, because we're all selfish, and selfishness is pretty much the root of all sin. On an arbitrary level, that makes sense to me, until I start looking at individual people, and the things they do that are good, that are based on a desire to do good for others and not based on a desire to look good to others. I have a really hard time believing that those people will go to hell.

Some of this stuff may seem like a no-brainer to you, but this is what keeps me awake at night and makes me wonder if I'm losing my faith. I am coming from a very fundamentalist beginning to my faith and feel like I'm leaping off the edge of a cliff without a parachute. I have no idea where I'm going or where I'll end up. The main thing that I am clinging to is the verse that says, "you will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." [Jeremiah 29:13?] I am seeking Him with all my heart, and I am finding Him, but this part of the search is pretty scary.

Six Days and Counting

2005-12-05T14:16:00.000-06:00

Six days it's been that the back of my neck and shoulders have been stiff. It doesn't seem to be getting any better, either, which is really starting to piss me off. If it's not better by Wednesday [hubby's day off] I'm calling the doctor.

Okay, I lied. I got to looking up stiff neck on the good ole 'net, and things like meningitis kept popping up, so I called the doc and left a message. My temp is 99.3, but I am a little sensitive to light, and that's kinda freaking me out. Yeah, remember when I said the internet is great? I was wrong!! [not really, but you know how it is]

I may have the beginnings of medical paranoia going on, but just to be on the safe side, well, you get the picture.

Okay, that's all for now, but I'll keep you updated on my stiff neck.