Chapter 20: Confession

My confession is this: I am not as innocent as I want to sound or as good. I have striven to be polite and well-mannered and that I am doing well on. But my fall is this: Ever since I my first “love” out of my life (you will remember that break up) I have ignored my Creator. I have not needed Him anymore and have shut Him out of my life. And now, now that I am lost, spinning out of control, have no idea who He is…I want Him back. I know nothing without Him. I am SO lost.

So now I will be reading through Ephesians and the Psalms every day. And to get myself to think about it, I will be writing about it here. And if not here, then on my facebook. I have to write to remember. I will, of course, be writing normally too, this just means you will hear from me more and see more of my God in the writing. I need this more than ever. However, I cannot get into too much detail now as I must go to work for a few hours. I’ll explain later, perhaps. Please pray for me, my brothers and sisters. I am a lost sheep searching for the path. So from here on starts a new episode in my life. Rather nice considering it’s my blog’s birthday week. One year and here I am at a new beginning. Not much has changed and yet so much has been lost.  Help me, God. Please.

Chapter 19: Fantasy and the Music that Speaks...

I have two things to talk about today; one rather grim and frustrating (but that I will discuss with the eloquence of the lady I am trying to become) and the other rather humorous, but enough to make me scowl at a person. I will start with the grim one.

At Nomads (the glorious place in which I am currently employed) we have a playlist that we listen to all day long with strange, exotic, retro and off-beat music that we listen to that reflects not only the odd store and its uniqueness, but us the employees too. We are all different and like different types of music. Some of us like ALL types of music. Some of us like none at all. I, personally, am the former. I love all types...mostly. The music I cannot stand and will not be bashful in expressing my opinion on are as follows: (modern) Country, rap, heavy metal (screamo), and reggae. At Nomads we play a lot of reggae. I hate the stuff. It grinds my nerves and makes me cringe. I have only once, in the most civil way, mentioned to my coworker how much I don't like reggae. She got offended. *Note: This is the coworker that calls me a "know-it-all" and a "liar" and "racist" nearly once a day. So the "you're racist" comes out when I say I don't like that music. For the record, I like a lot of (excuse me) Afro-American music. I love blues and jazz SO much and real, traditional African music? Can't get enough of the stuff!
Moving on...
So on this playlist, which I mentioned earlier, we are all allowed to put tracks on so long as it is appropriate to the store's theme: internationality and spirituality. Eventually, I add some songs. Some Blackmore's Night to be exact. Kind of a Celtic/mediaeval sound. The songs are about a gypsy and the other about a fairie named Lorelei. When the song comes on, my coworker notices the different music at once and gripes at me. She says she "hates" this music and that it's "stupid". Is it now? What about the songs she listens to? German screamo bands who yell "mein teil" or lyrical choruses with a versus that discuss "ass crack"...Yes, I see. My music must be stupid compared to this.
Not.
I am not going to hide my loathing. Songs that are vulgar, sing about sex, use curse words all the time and scream about gore are stupid. If it is for a purpose other than to rant like an angsty teenager then maybe I can accept it. If one of those songs is singing about undeniable, beautiful, dark truth--then all is forgiven. But they're not. My music about love, dance and life is not stupid. I wanted to kill her then, but I didn’t. I didn't reply angrily. I just said "Well, don't take it off the list!" and went about my job. Music like Blackmore has soul and life--a meaning and a purpose that is good. Rammstein on the other hand? Not so sure. Now you are free to go and whine about me on YOUR blog as I move on to my next topic.

I was at my second job (I had to sign something that said I wouldn't talk about it on my blog...) and a young man came in to return some stuff (I almost gave my job away just there!). He got to talking to me and asked me what I was majoring in and that got us around to writing. He asked what I wrote and my reply was "mostly fantasy books and stories". His reply took me by surprise. "So you like it dark and dirty, hu? Like to help other imagine that kind of stuff? Sounds a little erotic to me!" He said this smiling creepily the whole time. I finally figured it out. "NO!" I shouted back. "Fantasy as in dragons, wizards and swords..." Yes, as in the sharp, metal weapon. He laughed and said he knew what I meant and that he was just "just messing with me". People do that all the time to me...But I don't care about that. Why when I said "fantasy" did he have to make it into something gross and perverted? Why does everyone have to do that? Why can't out world be more innocent? I'm going to try to make it that way. I have to. Otherwise, we're making the perfect Hell for Lucifer to come to and rein over.
Speaking of spiritual things!
My next (hopefully!) post will be about something I've always been curious about and have spent a week researching now. I'm writing an essay type paper about it to post in the hopes that it will shed some light on some topics. Until next time, be blessed and may the Creator watch over you as you travel across the land of our Mother!

-|- )O(

Chapter 18: Dear People of the World

The store was full to bursting of people with no money to spend but still I did my job. "Hi, what can I help you find today?" and "Looking for anything special today?" was pouring out of my mouth at about fifty words a minute. After assaulting everyone in the store once or twice, I would go and stand in one of the few "blind spots" so that way the cameras in the store couldn't see me and therefore the boss watching us was blind to me as well. I was exhausted. I'd woke up at 6:45 that morning to make it to the book store on time for that job. I had worked until the afternoon, gone home, done some yoga then sat down to watch a movie and let my feet rest for an hour before I had to leave for the next job.
It wasn't until about four o'clock that it really hit me. "Go talk to people, make sure they're buying stuff!" I was. Could he not see me walking and talking. I had been watching him and the assistant manager (AM) for weeks now. When it was busy, they stood behind the counter, looking busy, while my coworker and I ran around talking to people. The AM excuse was "social anxiety". Okay, so you should quit your job if you're not going to help, was my thought. I have that too though, but that doesn't stop me from trying my heart out to do my job.
After selling my third hooka and saving customers from our non-English speaking employee for the millionth time, I was fed up with it. I was tired of being taken advantage of. I always have been and it stops now.
I will no longer be quiet and do as I am told. As I was being ordered about and told to do numerous tasks and then get told I needed to do more (cause I always will...I never complain and tell people off)and that I wasn't doing well enough, I noticed this. I saw how docile and obedient I was. How they were using that to make me do their work. I looked back in my life...It had happened many times. My mother had raised me to be polite and do as I was told without complaining. She has trained me well. But no more.
After a particularly bad hour or so, I wanted to scream out in the middle of the store. Scream, shout and holler until I went mute and could not even sing. But I didn't. I let myself be ordered around.
Two customers came in that day that asked me how old I was and what I wanted to do with my life. When I told them of the Goddess Plan, they said I was incredible and smart to have such a plan. Twice it happened before I stopped to think. I realized how I had been taken advantage of my whole life long. I then asked myself, "A real lady would not take this. She wouldn't sit back and let it happen to her." But then the thought became more real. "No...a woman wouldn't let this happen to her. I AM A WOMAN!" The time for being a lady is not "all" the time. A lady need be present often times for civility. But a woman? She needs to be part of me forever. The woman--no the goddess-- in side of me was angry at being treated this way. I will not stand by and let it happen to me again. Ever. I will not drive my coworker at my other job home all the time. I will not let my boss order me into work every day I have off (which has happened for the last two weeks and many times at other jobs as well). I will stand up and stop being tread upon.

No, don't worry. I'm not choosing now to open a rebellious streak. I just do not want to be taken advantage of. So...

Dear People of the world,
I will not be taking your orders anymore. I will do as I need. Not as little as needed, but not everything you want me to do. You know how obliging I am and I will not be that way any more. You are quite capable of doing your work yourself and not relying on me or shoving people off on me that you do not want to deal with. I will not be your scapegoat any more. I cannot say this to you in any other way.
                                                                                        Best Regards,
                                                                                           A Free Woman

Chapter 17: Finaly...

So here I am in the WCJC computer lab waiting for my next final. I do so hate final season. I stress and break out. I have the soothing sounds of MJ and "Beat It" rocking the back parts of my brain to calm me a bit. I brought my reocrder to school thinking I would sit outside and play it to sooth myself too. I was standing in line to sell my books back, scoping out a place I could play some music outside when...the butterfly showed up. I washed my hands of him and his egotisical attidude weeks ago. I was done with him. But then there are the incidents with the car and parking...
But there he was and he said hey to me. We talked about study and finals for--I kid you not--about one minute. That's all. Then I left. Why? I don't know...
I'll add more to this post later. I justed wanted to let you all know that, no I'm not dead yet. Even though it's final season...

Chapter 16: It's the most wonderful time...

Growing up, we never had stockings over the fire. It wasn't until about 3 or 4 years ago that my mom spent the money on getting all of us 9 kids, the dog and her and dad a stocking and putting our names on them. I always felt sad that we didn't have them. Not because I was into Santa Clause or anything, but because I thought it was part a Christmas tradition we were missing out on. Apparently, we are still missing out. People keep asking me what we do for Christmas. When my reply is "Well...we...put up a tree" they look at me funny. As if I'm lying or being secretive. No. Seriously. We put up a tree.
When my second brother got into KU, we stared to put lights on the house for the first time in our lives. We only did this though because he worked at HobbyLobby and got a good discount on the lights. So that was a good step. It was soon after that we got the stockings. But Christmas wasn't always bland. In fact, I liked it a lot as a kid. I just felt that something was missing.
But to us kids, Christmas was more than a tree and snow to play in. It was the time of year mom and dad fought and yelled, got angry at us and were just generally in a bad mood. Pretty much all through December and half of January. Holidays in our house always put us kids on edge because we knew it meant angry and unreasonable parents. I know that in part we were to blame. I mean really, kids get all excited and energetic this time of year. Even in our house where Christmas was not bedazzled with lights and sweetened with pounds of candy. But as the years have gone by, things have changed.
We have lights outside now, stockings, and a good pinch of decorations inside too. We also have a nice tree with ornaments and lights. But under that tree this year? We write our names on scraps of paper, draw a name and whoever we draw we buy presents for. Then mom and dad buy us each one or two presents. We're not TOO poor, but we're not like the other families in this new neighborhood. We can't afford 5 gifts for each person...The little kids are taking it the hardest. They want many presents. They'll learn some day. But in the mean time, they'll just struggle on.

Let me say one thing about the past 12 or 13 Christmases though. When we moved to Leavenworth, we started to cut down our own trees from the side of the road. That was the one great tradition we had. On a Sunday, when dad could help us, we would go out to the tree we had picked and cut it down. There were many adventures in that tradition over the years. The tree would be about 12 or 15 feet high and always touch our ceiling. Our trees, be them the only great tradition and memory I have, were awesome. Tall and smelly and wide. We loved out trees.

So now for a new Christmas in a new state and new life. God help us.

Chapter 15: I Forgot 13!

I just saw my mistake and realized I had no Chapter 13. Teehee! Oh, well!
Really I just wanted to come and talk to myself since I have no much new to report. Except for the @$$-faced jerk incident. I'm debating whether or not to post that conversation here or not. My sweet friend, on whom's facebook it took place was kind enough to delete it, but not before I copy and pasted it. I do that. To remember hurts done to me, I suppose. Silly, isn't it? Well, it was an awful exchange about censorship and plays that ended with him telling me "go and off" myself. It was ugly. It really hurt and I cried all night. I tried to find comfort in my friends, but the man I turned to said I was "letting" it hurt me...not what I wanted to hear at the time. So I got more upset and left the online world.
I felt a bit immature, but really I was hurting badly.
Speaking of not having people to talk to! I've decided to revel in my movies and TV shows again. I think I said something similar in my last post, but whatever! I watched Lost Boys last night and it was great. I really love that movie. And I chatted with...Luke...for a few minutes. It was okay. He was as distant and unresponsive as ever. He taught me so much about myself. So much that I will hold onto.
I quoted Europe today for my facebook status. I said "I've gone through changes, I've gone through pain. But that's not enough reason for me to go insane..." I love Rock the Night. Fun song! And that's how I feel right now. I have gone through so many changes and through SO much pain...but still...
So right now I should be doing my homework and studying...I have two tests on Tuesday. And I forgot that this Thursday was Thanksgiving. I should do something fun. For myself. That'd be good for me. Wonder what I should do. Teehee, I'm half excited now. I make myself excited more and more these days. I think that's because I spend so much time in my own head. Oh, well!
My best friend and her boyfriend are getting along well, I hear. I'm so happy for her. I get the feeling he's going to be in her life for quite some time so I'm denouncing my normal hostile attitudes toward him and just supporting her. I am jealous...of them both! I want someone to tell me I'm pretty and touch me. I long for touch.
Right! Off to study! Two tests tomorrow! Hahaha, Beat It just came on to my Pandora. Love it! I'm rockin' on! Happy? No. Rockin' it any way? YES!!

If Only to Hold

So here is a new post only a day or two after my last one. Unfortunately, it's nothing big. Just something I jotted down this afternoon and wanted to share. I wanted it to rhyme AND be really dramatic, but that wasn't working. So I just went with rhyming. I may write another one about the same thing and make it have more feeling and no rhymes so that way my point comes across. Either way, please enjoy!


"If Only to Hold"

Take a moment with me please and close your eyes…
Unbury your darker emotions and let them rise…
Bid farewell to all light and joy with a kiss…
Now imagine with me, if you can, only this:

You long for his touch, his gentle caress,
If only you burned for far less.
To have him touch you and smell your hair,
To give you his love and undying care.
You want his eyes to see only your heart,
This beating, living thing that is falling apart.
You are on fire, your mind is burning,
You are drowning, your soul is yearning.
A word from him to you would calm the storm,
Release your wounds, your heart would warm.
As the rain falls and skies blacken to gray,
What price would you pay to have him for a day?
Would you take him and set him away in glass,
Or would put him in a frame made of blunt brass?
I know you better than that, my sweet wounded one,
Take him and love him until you come undone,
Make him your world, you would,
If only…if only you could…
What you want of him is simple and small,
Yet you cannot bring yourself to ask at all.
You know not what he would say,
And yet you go on and delay!
I see it now, you’d rather die,
This heart is breaking, desiring to fly.
A treasure like this is too much to ask,
Go on now, put on that shiny mask,
Hide away, leave his presence and flee,
Blind yourself so you can no longer see.
But still you yearn and burn for his affection,
You will never forget his perfect complexion.
Never forget how he made you mourn,
In your heart he ever planted a thorn.
Please, listen well,
Do not succumb to this torture hell,
The desire will not leave you like a dove,
This could mean ‘tis True Love…