Draft of Essay, Needs Critiquing

This is a draft of an essay that I wrote on behest of a friend. It might actually get 'officially' published, so I am asking for some critiques... I also would like ideas for a title. Someone on-line said that people admired me because I was so at peace with my divorce and since I was a good writer, I should write an essay for those who are in the beginning stages to encourage or enlighten them. I tried, but I did not feel inspired until a few nights ago. I was hampered by the knowledge that though I did do many things correctly, deep in the shadows lurked something else. It was not that I would reveal that I am eccentric and difficult to live with or my unshakable belief that I am always right (until I am proven wrong, at which time I change my position so I can be right again). I am actually pretty open that I am those things, even in their negative expression. It was that typing this would expose something else I preferred to remain hidden in the shadows. The fact that I am a coward. I say so because since I was a child, I have been afraid of many things. Of course, being afraid does not make you a coward. Being afraid is normal. Cowardice and bravery are responses to fear. Bravery is the ability to face what you fear, to do what is right in spite of it. Cowardice is the opposite, hiding and running away from that which scares you. My mother knew that if I did not learn to face it, I would ruin my life. She set out to make me brave. Her lessons were not well considered and I did not learn what she intended. I withdrew inside myself and wrapped my self in shame instead. I became a coward. What might surprise those who know me now, as an adult, is that I am still a coward. Sure, I can hold my own in an argument. I would defend my family to the death if I needed to. I can take an unpopular opinion and not care what people think of me. I can be different and outcast and not care. I do not fear disagreements, I do not fear violence, and I do not fear the opinions of others. But I still fear. When I realised that divorce was inevitable, someone I really respected told me to keep my children as far away from the particulars of that divorce as possible. Reveal the whys and wherefores of this event when they have the adult ability to reason and make judgements that do not alter their inner world. Until then, leave them uninformed, innocent and untainted by the controversies of the event and the marriage that came before it. It made sense and I had every intention to follow his advice. However, for one of my children, such was not to be. My husband first informed me that he “wasn’t sure” that he wanted to stay married while he was at the end of a remote assignment to Korea. He said he did not love me, we had nothing in common, he did not want to be poor his “whole life” and he was not able to be the Christian husband I wanted. I was fat, I was demanding and so on. The accusations hurt, but I railed against the end of the sewage dump that was our marriage anyway. I informed him that he had not taken the time to know me; I knew he was an adulterer, he broke promises to take Ian fishing all the time. I had found the porno he had hid in the heating vents in the bedroom - did he not care that he could have burned down the house? I let my soul bleed over the wire to a man who was actually well past caring about all of this. In response, he said that we would see what would happen when he returned that February. He was planning to end our marriage face to face; I was planning to super glue the whole mess together at all costs. What I did not know was that my older son had heard me come undone. He came downstairs that next morning and asked me what adultery and pornography were. I could not tell him, so I told him to look them up in the dictionary. His distance from the hurt of the break-up was already not what it should have been, and it was not the only time that he heard what he should not have heard. When my husband returned, it was obviously over. I could not avoid it, so I chose to be the one to end it as he had sinned against me. Until the boys and I could move in with my parents, we lived together. My husband called ‘the other woman’ on the phone daily. When my husband told her that he only loved her and no other, my son took this personally. When he told my mother and me about it, I knew that it did not mean what my son thought,. My knowledge sat on my Adam’s apple, unspoken. It was my husband’s rejection of me and I did not have the emotional energy to deal with it. Eventually, I did regain the strength, but I did not take my son aside and explain what my husband had really meant. To tell him meant risking his perception of me as the mother who would always be able to comfort and protect him. I chose not to bring it up, better for him to see me as strong, secure and looking forward to the future instead of backwards to the past. I have often wondered what that did to his young heart, and if his brother had heard it too. I do not understand why I was affected so badly by my husband’s rejection. I was not new. Besides, a divorce would put an end to the abuse of my oldest son. Once the boy told my mother about it, I swore that it would not happen again when my husband came back from Korea. If I felt that he was not safe, I would leave. I should have been relieved that I would not have to worry if my ex would not go to counselling, or if the abuse was going to happen to the younger child. I should have been happy that my children were free of this threat, but I was too preoccupied. The transition to independence was not a good one because I was a coward. However, the cowardice did not start at the end of things; it was in play from the very beginning. I was running from a memory when I met my ex-husband. I never saw that my husband was not created to be my mate, nor was I made for him; I did not have enough time to do so before it was too late. I knew that mere months were not enough to warrant an engagement and that true love was not found looking at the ceiling. But I pretended it was because he said what I wanted to hear. Moreover, when the inevitable happened, I knew that having a baby was not a reason to move your wedding date forward an entire year. But fear made me want the fictional version of reality instead. I needed to be loved, and I knew I would be a good wife and mother. He would learn to love me the right way over time. So, when the man asked me one too many times to marry him early, to not go home and have the baby, I agreed. It was easier than facing the disappointment of my father. My cowardice doomed the entire family. It would not have been the end of the world if the separation during my pregnancy ended the relationship. It would not have been a great tragedy if my younger son had been born to a different father. In addition, it is quite possible that our marriage and the stress that surrounded it triggered the abusive side of my ex husband. I will never know if that is true and neither will the son who was mistreated. Once I realised how my husband was going to respond to being a husband and father, I did not step up and put an end to it. I do not know if I could have nipped the verbal abuse, familial neglect, adultery and pornography use and unreasonable discipline of the children in the bud, but I did not try right away. When I put off trying, I also put off the decision to end the marriage should my efforts fail. And deep down inside, I knew that what I was not doing was a result of being a coward. I was wounded when I met the man. I had been the target of bullies my entire life. I’d felt less than perfect for years. I never healed before starting a family of my own, even though I had been a self-help junkie since my high school psychology class. Somehow I knew that true healing would require handling the past and my feelings about it, and I was too afraid to do that. I set myself up to be mistreated again. At first, I sucked my feelings about what was happening inside. I could not get angry, though I knew that I should have been angry. Anger is something I had learned to fear at some time in late elementary school. I had stomped a boy enough to put him in the hospital. Another time, I shivered in anger as the wild chipmunk who had no fear of me sat in my lap. He should have been afraid and it was the death of him in the end. I allowed myself to touch the borders of anger, slamming doors and flouncing about with teary-eyed verbal attacks every so often, but my real anger lay untouched. Therefore, my husband’s verbal slander went unanswered. The disrespect, the inequities, the lack of real affection were not countered, perhaps they would get better. In reality, what I was doing was giving permission for things to get worse. For example, the first years of the marriage we allowed 80$ per person, per paycheck as a personal allowance. It seemed fair, but he would run though his allowance right away. Then he would come and request five dollars so he could get a haircut. Since we were military and he could have been disciplined for his grooming, I gave him the money. It did not sit right but I had not cost me very much, so I said very little. This behaviour would evolve so that five years later, my youngest son was expected to go without warm winter baby clothes while his father spent 189$ on bicycling garments. I left in a huff, but in a short while, I was back. When I was pregnant with my first son, the doctor placed me on bed rest due to my high blood pressure. I was only to get out of bed to go to the bathroom or take a bath. However, my husband would do nothing to see that I had a way to have meals while he was not home, so I risked my life and the life of my unborn child to cook myself meals each day. This lack of concern for my physical well-being grew as well. When I was in physical therapy for back problems, it was disregarded since my symptoms and care did not follow the same path as his mother’s did. When I developed a heart arrhythmia, it was of no concern. My thyroid went undiagnosed for years because he felt I was obese because I wanted to be. Seeking second or third opinions seemed ludicrous to him. Nothing that was wrong with me warranted any help or concern. I had warning, but didn’t heed it. I forgot the stories he told from his childhood, and his reactions to them. As a child, a friend accidentally slashed my ex’s finger with a hockey skate. My ex sat waiting as his mother did her hair and put on makeup before taking her bleeding son to the hospital for stitches. To me, that was outrageous. To him, it was reasonable. Eventually though, I had to rebel. My father was immediate, loud, animated, over the top and quite scary to a child. Thankfully, once it was over, it was over. It was as if it never happened. My mother, though, smouldered. Her volume usually went unnoticed, as her words were what mattered. Guilt and manipulation were her forte and if she was slighted or she did not get her way, she never forgot. She was expert at waiting for a time when you were vulnerable to revisit the issue, even if it was decades later. Children learn what they live; I was not without skills of my own and eventually used them. By the time of my divorce, there were quite a few years when I gave back as much as I was given and I was probably better at fighting than he was. I could verbally fillet my husband if I chose to, I never forgot anything and I knew what the saying “revenge is a dish that’s best served cold” truly meant. It did not change anything though, things were still miserable and now I was as bad as he was. So, because I could not grow up, because I did not develop a real backbone, my children lived in a battle zone. Single parenthood was so terrifying to me that I would rather bleed and become a person I hated than to take a stand. I had vowed that what I had lived, my family would never be. My mother was the typical co-dependent, my father drank. So when my husband over indulged, I did exactly what my mother had never done. I vacuumed and chased my squealing son through the house. I fixed a greasy sweet breakfast, tailor made to make him sick. Once he choked down the bacon, fried potatoes, eggs and pancakes, I would demand that we go shopping or for walks. He soon gave up on the idea of coming home drunk, so I breathed a sigh of relief. What I did not realise was that the problems in my family were not the fault of alcohol alone. I knew that I had been the household mediator for my parents most of my childhood. I protected my sister, comforted my mother. I did know that being my mother’s confidante was inappropriate, but I had not taken note of how and why it happened. Because I did not see how it happened to me, I failed to see what was happening to my older son. While I was married, the boy was given responsibilities excessively early and he was expected to do them excessively well. When we divorced, I could have given the boy his childhood back, but did not do so. I made sure that the younger child had one, but my older son never had a period of time when he was carefree. He moved into the role of man of the house easily. I believe that he felt calm, safe and happy if I was calm, safe and happy so he did not protest his role much. I bragged about him. Without that boy, I said, I would have been lost. I told everyone I met how responsible, sensible, spiritual, loyal, intelligent, solid and clear-headed the boy was. He knew who he was and where he wanted to be. He was at 16 more an adult than either of his parents had been when he was conceived. I was so proud of the man that he was, even though he was still a child. Like my mother before me, I spoke my feelings during our sincere talks. I thought if I shared how I felt, he would open up as well. I shared things that I should have kept to myself or saved for another adult. Instead of letting him comfort me, I should have been making him feel safe. I would have known some of the discomfort he might not even have realised he felt if I had seen what was going on before it was too late. He was carrying the load that I carried; the one that I had sworn would never be given to my children. It was easy to do. I believed that because he knew the circumstances of our divorce, he understood what was going on. Therefore, over time I told him many more things about my marriage that he had no need to know as a teenager. Even though I have not told him everything, I was still ignoring the advice to wait until he could see things as an adult. I cried to him instead, just as my mother had done, but he also carried an adult share of the household chores and helped care for his little brother. I even borrowed money from him when I fell short and needed help to pay for gas or bills. He had knowledge fit for adults and responsibilities usually left for them, but he still had to function as a child. He would have no say in how things ran at school or at home. He developed a systematic pattern of passive rebellion. He did not overtly snub his nose at the school’s authority or my own, but he always seemed to fly just below the radar. He would hide his vitamins instead of taking them, would take forever to do his chores, complained about the family menu and refused to do his homework because it was “stupid” (until he realised he would not get into college, then he just did enough to keep him out of trouble). I do not know if he really knows the reasons behind his little rebellions, it is possible he will never go past the surface. Even so, I know. Buried deep inside of him was someone screaming, “You didn’t return my childhood to me, and you had the chance to do it, so give my adulthood, I don’t want you taking that away from me too.” I cried and asked him for forgiveness for this a year or so ago, but it does not undo what has been done. And if I had acknowledged what was going on years ago, perhaps I could have been able to give him areas of life to run as an adult. It would have made things easier for him, but my failure to step up and leave the marriage when I should have done, took that opportunity away as well. When I should have left my husband, I was still moderately healthy. I had a back problem, but it was not unmanageable. I could have gotten into a company full time and had health insurance. With health insurance, I would have been treating my thyroid, my arrhythmia, my asthma, my carpal tunnel syndrome, my over-active bladder, my back, the fibromyalgia and everything else that now plagues me. More than likely, nothing would be as bad as it is now. Not only would I not have been as dependent upon him for help around the house these past few years, but the finances probably would have been better. I may have had the money to keep my vehicle in working order. I may have been able to get him a car and such a few years ago. Then he could have had a job and his own money to control when he was legally able to do so at 16. Instead, he was stuck at home in his not-quite-an-adult and not-quite-a-child role. In the end, it was because I was a coward. I am not evil; I have not done everything wrong in my life or in the lives of my children. However, those are not the subject of this article because we all have a habit of knowing when we do the right things. What we do not see are the mistakes we are making. I am sure that everyone reading this has their own opinions about what it is I am afraid of and whether or not I truly am a coward since I have chosen to share my failures publicly. In the end, none of that really matters, though, for the purposes of this article. What matters is what YOU are afraid of as you set out on the path to your future, and whether you are brave enough to face it. Do not be cowards like me; be brave as you leave your situation behind. As my mother knew, cowardice ruins lives.

How Well Do You Know Those Around You?

About a yr or so ago, someone I trusted in the presence of my children was arrested for sexual assault and it came out that he’d grabbed the butts of little girls. I would have never guessed he had it in him. Honestly, not a sign, not a suggestion, not even a creepy vibe. He was an over grown child, a jokester and a good friend as far as I knew. The fact that he groped little girls at Wal-Mart was almost beyond my stunned comprehension. When he went to prison, the prison shrink diagnosed him with MPD. That seemed to make some sense to me. It made it easier to handle, from my perspective. I could always say that it was some other personality that did it, someone that I did not know. Of course, his wife was another story. Whether she was in love with one personality or both, someone in his body was attracted to children, or was possibly so. In addition, she had his baby. During the pregnancy, he consoled her, made plans with her as to how to raise their child and he seemed to love his child once the baby was born. Then, this weekend he dropped another bomb into the personal lives of those who had tried their best to stand by him despite what he had done. He told his wife that the night the baby had been conceived, he had been out lusting over some children. He had been a paedophile for years, he had liked little boys, the girls that came forward at his trial were not the only ones, and…he had had urges and thoughts about his own son. The wife is getting a divorce. In addition, here the rest of us are thinking, once more, that no matter how much you think you know about someone, you just might not know anything about whom they really are. Lately, in the past year, this one truth has painted over my life repeatedly. See, Weed man had a niece, Weedchikka (WC). I thought the best thing for her was to watch over her child and help her try to be a good mother to her son. I thought that my good intentions would bear fruit and she would limp along toward healing and wholeness. However, I did not know her as well as I believed that I did. I thought she had the capability to do this when, apparently, she did not. I repeatedly beat my head against the wall as I tried to help her. About the time her baby died, she acquired a boyfriend. He was not anyone I would have dated because he is one of those meat and potatoes, white-collar football people. However, he seemed to be a solid and decent person who would be a good influence on WC. What I did not know was that he was not the strong silent type as I had him pegged to be. Instead, he was closer to the ‘still waters run deep’ personality, with a volatile temper, much like my father. Not a good match for someone who brings as much chaos into the world as WC does. Once more, I was wrong. And this man was wrong too. He thought that he could help, that he could be the strong one and he could handle all the mess in WC’s life. He did not believe that she was mentally ill, just believed that she had baggage. He was wrong and he bit off more than he could chew. They both called me today to tell me of the demise of their relationship and ask for advice. Again, I gave it though I doubt it will do any good. Everyone wants to hear me talk but nobody, apparently, gives a crap once I am done. Another theme in my life recently. I mean honestly, if you don’t care what I think then why ask? Moreover, I seem to have a habit of not knowing and for some reason believe that what I say will make some sort of difference. Because you do not always know people the way you think you do, you do not always do the right thing by them. I am remembering the time last summer when I almost lost a friend when I helped another person. I believed that I was doing the right thing in regards to both of them. Morally, I believe that I did, but obviously, if I had known them better, I may done it all differently. And if PW had known me better some of the trouble never would have occurred. See, there is one thing I do not do. I do not tell adult people, people who have lived past the age of like, say, 20, who to date or marry or whether or not to stay with someone. However, when PW asked me for advice about how to manage the money she thought she was getting from an accident; my answer was misconstrued to mean that I wanted her and Weed man to break up. If she had known me and the rules I lived by, she would have known better. She would have known that I would have asked her questions, given advise and the like but never ever advocate a break-up. Who am I to know the deep emotional contents of the deepest recesses of her heart? Who am I know the content of Weed man’s heart? If I do not know this, I do not have the right to dictate their love life now do I. (Unless of course I see abuse). But if I had known her and Weed man better, I would have been more clear - explaining that I was NOT advocating that they break up, I was worried about the future and what would happen if he died, or got really sick or something. And perhaps, if I had known WC better, I would not have had her stay here once she got out of the hospital. Forcing her out on her own might have been better for her. Instead, she left me to go live with some bonehead strip club server who only was using WC for her food stamps and live in babysitting. She knew her time with me was limited, but at the same time, it was long enough for her to plot something to prevent her entrance into a shelter, which is what she was supposed to do. And once that blew up, she went back to live with PW and co, who should have known this would blow up but, alas, didn’t know the two people living with them as well as they could have. If they had, it never would have happened. Because of the fact that you just do not know people like you think you do, I also do not attempt to play matchmaker with my friends. I do not even tell my ex, T, who I believe I know very well who he should date and how long he should wait between relationships or … you get the idea. Because there is a reason he is an ex. If I had known about the things that made me incompatible with him before we got together, we never would have done. I cannot know all there is to know about him, or any of my other close friends. I might know some things about them, like I know that Vamp has dark tendencies, I know that Darius is all about MTG, I know that T is philosophical, I know that PW likes wolves, she is a tomboy and likes nature. I know that Weed man is a blue-collar biker dude; I know that miss H has hippy tendencies, and my son’s gf likes anime. But, if our paedophile friend could mislead me, I could very well misunderstand even those that I think I know well. So why would I try to find their soul mate for them? That is just not wise and I would not want to be responsible for setting up a disaster. I also just do not understand what happened to common sense anymore. I look at the economy and I think back. I do not know how many people remember the Savings and Loan crisis and how the government bailed out these failing institutions. And then there was Chrysler. Nevertheless, banks were allowed to lend money to people who were the most likely to bail on their mortgage. Then, knowing this, they sold the loans to bigger banks, so that once the sorry homeowners realised that they could not pay they could not refinance or restructure the whole mess because…the bank no longer owned the loans. Seriously, how dumb can you get? When I was growing up, I remember my parents applying to rent places. IF real estate agents ran the rentals, my parents could not have more than 33 % of their income set aside for rent. Anything else was too much, and it would not have been approved to rent. RENT, people, RENT. No danger here, if they do not pay, out they go. Then the rental goes to someone else who will pay. But, instead, these bonehead bankers were setting people up with mortgages in excess of half their income. If they cannot afford to rent, if that is too much of their income for housing, then it is too much for a mortgage. However, nobody gives a shit about my opinion, and common sense just is not common anymore. If common sense were common, it would be obvious that certain types of people do not belong together. Like, for instance, people whose religious beliefs were opposite. That works in friendships sometimes, especially when contact is limited and people go out of their way to not attempt any intimacy in that area. However, it does not work in love relationships because love is not just physical and emotional intimacy; it is also a spiritual connection. Alternatively, people with addictions and habits should never be with those who have left those things behind or people with small children. That is an accident, a disaster waiting to happen. People who have moral problems with pornography or certain sexual practices should never be with someone who believes these things are alright. Eventually one will feel as if they are a child being constrained from something for no good reason, and the other will be offended and disrespected. In addition, certain lifestyles just do not go with others. Spontaneity and chaos do not belong with people who must live in a rut. We all know that sometimes things change when you are in a relationship. One might have a religious experience or one might just change their mind about what they believe is acceptable. That is one thing and while it may or may not doom the relationship, it is not the same as going into one knowing that you are not compatible. Why do something that you know will be a failure and hurt you in the end? And, if you were trying to influence people, why would you advocate such a thing? Another thing lately that I just do not understand and cannot stand is the complete and utter lack of respect for other people these days. Just drive on our roads and you get what I am saying, but once again, I am at my boiling point. I struggle to resist throttling people. If that kid down the road does not stop being a smart ass … I mean seriously. You just do not go to someone’s house and snub the rules or the morality that they espouse. That is wrong; I do not care who you are or why you are there. If you visit someone else’s domain, you are there by their good graces. What right do you have to disrespect them by trying to cause trouble or making a scene? Moreover, that goes triple for those who actually live in said domain. If someone is kind enough to let you live in his or her space, you know the rules going in and you choose to stay there, then it is your job to see to it that you obey them. Period. There is no exception; there is nobody who has the right to behave otherwise. I do not care how poor and downtrodden, how mentally ill, how loud, obnoxious or needy you happen to be. Rules are rules, deliberately and carelessly breaking them is unacceptable - If you do not like it, hit the street. If you choose to live your life as a middle finger in the active state of ‘up yours’ to the rules laid down by the person who feeds you, pays your bills, takes you everywhere you need to go, puts up with your drama and tried to protect you from yourself and others…then you have absolutely no respect for yourself and are the penultimate traitor to those who are attempting to help you. Moreover, as such, you lose any respect that I might have for you and your opinions. And, luckily, the level of my bitchiness has been misjudged. In which direction I will leave you to guess, as you cannot know me any more than I can completely know you.

Why I hate the middle

The first few days and or weeks of a new possible relationship are fun. All the heart fluttering, all the day dreams, all the wondering and oh the warm and fuzzy feelings. You're high, he's perfect and all is right with the world. If it all works the way you wish it to, the ending stages are pretty nice too. The commitment, the safety, the friendship all mesh together to make two people into a solid couple for as long as that lasts...possibly forever. Its comfortable and profitable and interesting. You know what I hate? It's that middle part. The part where you know that what you know about a person you genuinely like, but you wonder if he has you snowed. You wonder if he likes you as much as you like him. You wonder if he's just trying to get in your pants, or just passing time until something better comes along. You sit around second guessing everything you've said (was it right or appropriate or bound to scare him away?) and what he said (and just what did he really mean by that?). When he looks at a girl is it just being human (she was just there and he notices) or is it window shopping? You wonder if each time you express an opinion...is it the death knell to this whatever you call it because that just happens to be the one opinion or belief he can't live with...and...if it is something trivial to you....just WHY is it that you are worried in the first place? Every time he discusses his future, is he doing it to genuinely discuss his goals and possibly include you...or is he doing it to lead you astray? I hate the part where you wonder...am I calling or writing too much? Am I expecting too much from this person? Is my jealousy reasonable? Are we exclusive yet? How will I know without asking and is it even safe to ask? What does he think of my looks? What does he think of my lifestyle? Could he ever love me the way I need and want to be loved? And if he CAN, will he do so? And you wonder, is he even worth all this trouble? In the middle stage, you do not know the answer of course, so it's aggravating in and of itself. I try of course to not worry so much, to take my time and enjoy things, but it's like bungee jumping. I don't like it and it could end in disaster. Of course I could skip this stage, but I've done that much too often and it's like bungee jumping without the bungee cord. It always turns out bad. It's enough to make you want to eat about 9 gallons of icecream. But you can't do that either.

Secrets

They say the truth will set you free. The insinuation is that this freedom is immediate, but for some of us it's so far away that the truth should not be uttered aloud, not even to the one for whom the words were made. The immediate reaction could be disaster. So the truth becomes something you keep close in your bosom lest it be heard, and the hearing of it cause your heart to break. So you never say anything and you file it in the back of your mind somewhere beside the reason you're scared of being alone and your real feelings about your first date. Eventually you don't notice it anymore and you like it that way. Then sometimes, later on, things change and you are free to speak the truth. Your heart wonders, should I do it now? Or should I leave it buried? It rolls to the back of your throat and nearly gags you and yet you sit with your jaw clenched, stomach churning and wonder if your heart will be injured. You sweat and shake, you doubt your version of reality, you wonder if you'll ever be strong enough...but...will you be strong enough to choke back the words forever? What if they never return to their space to which you consigned them in the dungeon of your soul so long ago? You wonder too, if the ears you wish to speak the truth to truly want to hear what you have to say. Or do they just think they do? Or is this all another disaster in disguise. Why is it that as you get older, it's still next to impossible to know the difference? It's still just as much a leap of faith off what appears to be a large cliff over a lightless abyss as it ever was. Will you get sucked in? Flying may be fun but falling is terrifying and will kill you, which is it that takes you as you remove your feet from the solid ground? If you decide you don't like free falling, can you stop it? You speak what you've held dear for so long to the one to whom the words belonged many years before and you wait to see if you fall or fly. How long does it take to know? Is this freedom I feel wings, or just an updraft?

Advice to My Son

It seems like yesterday since you showed up on the scene and your maturity tends to make me feel just a wee bit olde. You are turning out rather well so there isn't much I can still teach you. But I'd like to pass these ideas along as, hopefully, words to live by. 1. Follow your dreams: This may seem like a no brainer since I've always supported what you have desired to do. To the point of failing to motivate you to do what you didn't want at times...or at least that has been the criticism of certain parties. However, as you go into the phase of life where you might run into professionals who seem to think they know what is best for you...or maybe well meaning family members, remember this. It's your life, nobody else will be stuck working that job that makes alot of money but bores you to tears. Nobody else will be stuck regretting your choice of major in college or your career path choices once you are educated. You however will have to live with those things and they can eat you alive. I know from personal experience that your dreams, if they are given by your soul, never go away. They may hide, sometimes for years. Eventually they will return and it just might be when it is "too late" to do anything about them. 2. Money Isn't Everything: Having enough to pay bills is essential, anything else is a gift. If you must choose between a passion which pays the bills and something that will make you rich but bored, don't grab for the money automatically. If you can have both fine, if not remember that - Passion is life, boredom kills. 3. Family Doesn't always know best: It's true. We try to, we love you but our opinions are not always right. We're human. 4. Live with No Regrets: If you are about to make a decision, think it over really hard so that you make the right one and won't regret it later. However, once it's made don't ever second guess yourself even if it turns out to be a bad one. If it was a poor decision, the universe meant you to learn from that, not kick yourself. Don't waste your life, live it with all the feeling and gusto you can. Embrace your dreams and let them lead you to happiness, or at least as far as that is possible. 5. Keep Short Accounts: If you ever find yourself in a place where you owe somebody something, pay it off or back as soon as you can even if that makes you uncomfortable. Owing money makes you a slave, owing people favours and the like keeps you beholden to them and unable to respond to the relationship as an equal. 6. Remain Comfortable with Your Self: If you are comfortable in your own skin and comfortable being with your self you won't be in such a hurry to hook up with friends or lovers which are not good for you. Choose friends and lovers who respect you, not those who will drag you down. 7. Don't Self Medicate: Embrace hard times and problems, don't ever seek to run away from them, especially into the bottle or drugs. No good will ever come of avoiding the pain of life and once you sober up you may find yourself alone and destitute...or mentally unstable...or with a few less brain cells than you had when you started.

THE RULZ

These are new rules for those who choose to hang out in Ravengaard (or...at Lady Raven's Home). They are not aimed at anyone person, but are a statement of the way Lady Raven believes her world should be working.... 1. If thou feelest the need to visit the domain of Raven and her flock, thou must exit thy vehicle and proceed to yonder door and knock thereon to request attention. It is thou who wishest welcome, it is thou who must become inconvenienced. Knock, don't honk. 2. If thou feelest the need to knock upon yonder door, consider that the possession of said door does not obligate the owner to open it. IF thou knockest and yonder door doest not open, do not continue to knock loudly. Thou shouldest assume that the flock is not available for social activity and should then leave quietly and in an orderly fashion. If thou knockest until the door opens by pounding loudly thereon for a protracted period of time, the mistress of Ravengaard will not be responsible for the crime inflicted upon thy body. 3. If thou visitest the domain of Ravengaard and bringest children, thou must bring the proper things for their care and safety. Lady Raven has raised her own children and is not required to participate in the changing of diapers, nor is she required to keep a home which is childproof. Bringest thou the playpen or the exersaucer to keep the wee youngun safe and keepest thou thine own child's hiney clean. 4. If thou comest to Ravengaard with pets, see above commandment and make proper application and know that cats must be kept outside in a carrier due to the allergies of the inhabitants of Ravengaard. 5. If thou arrivest at Ravengaard during the hours traditionally associated with the eating of supper, please stay for a while and then excuse thyself so that the inhabitants of Ravengaard mayest eat without being rude...unless thou hast been invited to stay for supper. 5. If the front gates to Ravengaard are open in order to enjoy the weather, please assume not that it is license to enter, knock anyway. 7. If thou belongest in school or at work, do not enter Ravengaard during the hours when thou belongest there. If thou hast called in sick or are suspended, stay in thine own abode as thou has not the freedom to be social. 8. If thou art a smoker, thou must smoke thy pollutants outside of the abode. Standing thy body in the way of the door and blowing thy smoke outside doest not count, thou must remove thyself completely. Thou art also responsible for thine own mess. Take thy butts home with you as Ravengaard is not an ashtray and shall not be used as one. 9. Respect thy fellowman. Do not engage in smack talk, insults or prolonged gossip. News, advice and even a minor bit of whining is satisfactory, however thou must remember the advice of Thumper's father "If ya can't say somethin nice, don say nothin at all" 10. Thou shalt seek permission before feeding and playing with the pets at Ravengaard. 11. Thou must seek parental approval and all appropriate spouses must be notified before thou enterest Ravengaard. Ravengaard is not a city of refugees. Thou mayest come without said approval if the police must be notified of your situation. 12. Thou must respect our dietary requirements. Ravengaard servest whole grain, whole unprocessed foods and abstainest from the evil High Fructose Corn Syrup as much as it is possible. We will always have water available to drink and food which fits our dietary requirements, if thou requirest something other, thou must bring it and if there be any left over, remove it from our presence. 13. Ravengaard is open from 9-9. Without prior permission, thou must not come within other than those times. 14. Make thy visits count, thou art welcome of course but it is preferred that thou comest once and stayest for a goodly time than coming and going at various and sundry times throughout the day for short periods. 15. The inhabitants of Ravengaard keep a schedule which is important to them, thou mayest not make plans for the citisens of Ravengaard without their consent and the consent of Lady Raven prior to finalising these plans. 16. Lady Raven keeps her days fairly full of activity which is important to her calling in life. If it is thy wish to kidnap Lady Raven during the day for periods of time for activities such as "doing lunch" thou must advise Lady Raven of any plans other than the stated objective. It is reasonable to pry Lady Raven from her tasks for a few hours, it is unreasonable to tack on 15 side trips without her consent. 17. If thou hast wreaked some sort of havoc in Ravengaard, either clean it up or fix it as much as humanly possible. If thou hast broke something, do not act as if this is funny, offer to replace it. Children who cannot abide this will be banned. 18. Automobiles, air conditioners, porches and other fixtures are not toys. Do not use them as such or thou wilt be banned, and possibly bitten. Correlaries for the Phone: Lady Raven is not required to answer the phone. Call once, then call the cell and leave a message if it is important. Make thy call important and include all pertinent information. Lady Raven prefers to spend an hour in conversation than to answer the phone repeatedly. Resepct the schedule of Ravengaard. Do not use the phone before or after 9-9 except in an emergency or risk bodily harm. If thou feelest the need to tell us something after midnight, call the cell and leavest thou a message.

How Did this All Happen?

How did I end up where I am now in life? Did you ever wonder about how the small decisions you make work out planning your future? When I left my hometown, or the closest thing I had to a hometown, to go into the military I had plans of being an officer. I was going to administration so I could work for the post office. Turns out that the postal designation had become a temporary assignment for no stripes, and I married an enlisted dude who had no desire to be married to an officer. I should have dumped him but didn't. I ended up with two wonderful children and that's about it. I had to loose everything I owned and go bankrupt in order to rediscover my writing and art. I'd lost it again through small decisions. I don't have the time, don't have the money to buy supplies, can't concentrate, etc. Eventually I believed my husband who told me I didn't have talent and it wasn't worth the time and effort. But it was all a decision. Now I live in a trailer park, I only work part time. I'm divorced, My car is broken. I have fibromyalgia, overactive bladder, and am sensitive to various foods (like High Fructose Corn Syrup, which I'm convinced is manufactured in the bowels of hell to tempt anyone who wants to be a decent weight...but I digress). I don't sleep well. My computer is fubared. So I write, alot. Often. I have notebook after notebook of the stuff.

Thinking over some stuff

Still thinking of Brian Terrell. Kinda hard not to when he's the butt of many jokes around here lately. Not that the joking is bad, I assume it's how people deal with the fact that our lives are all altered due to his rank stupidity. Anyway. As i think over the situation some, I've decided that I personally do not believe that his behaviour had any sexual stimulation involved. That does not seem to jive with the person I know. I know you can know someone and not really know them, but it is just so inconsistent with the whole pattern... Buddah liked women with ... assets. He wasn't drawn to the anorexic types that pedophiles are drawn to. Even the pictures he downloaded off the net were of buxom and curvy women. Pedophiles tend not to go for that, they are stimulated by the small titty committee. (If they are into girls). There are some acts that are sexual to the victim that are not sexual in nature to the perp. Rape is a power trip, not a sexual act. Flashing is a behaviour meant to shock. So are some forms of verbal sexual lewdness. I don't think it was a power trip for Buddah, I think it was a way of getting attention. He often did things to shock and get attention, that was just part and parcel to who he was. I also found out that he just found out that he'd be assaulted sexually when he was younger, by an uncle. In my history, I found out from my shrink that sometimes victims of abuse do things which they know are wrong in order to be punished as they bear false guilt for not being able to stop the sexual abuse they endured. Me personally, I lied. But since Buddah was going through this as an adult and most lying adults are not punished they are just ignored or marginalised...he chose something more closely related to what happened to him to get punished. That's what I think. I think it was a combo of false guilt demanding punishment and an attempt to shock and get attention. Of course I'm not being paid for this and no judge is going to care what I think, but maybe someone who does have a degree should look into it for him. Both society at large and Buddah as a human being deserve to have him healed rather than leaving him alone so that sometime, years from now he's let out and he's more messed up than he is now.

More Attention Grabbing Behaviour

Well here I am, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the whole sequence of events around here lately...by that I mean the whole Buddah fiasco. I kept a diary of sorts until I could get on the net, cause I can't get on all the time but today I thought I'd stop by the paper websites and see what was going on. Boy was I suprised. But I'll start on that later. My sexual assault (there was a series actually) was almost as personal as you could get and it left me traumatised for most of my life in one way or another. I knew it was sexual, I knew it was dirty and sleazy and filthy and for a while I thought I'd done something to attract it. It took years to find out that I hadn't. I also had my butt pinched in bars and grabbed in school. One boy used to take pleasure in flipping up our skirts. I felt angry and my pride was insulted but I honestly didn't feel the same as I did when I was being molested to the nth degree. I'm confused as to why Brian started doing this, and I do believe it is sick in a sense and that it is wrong in every sense. I'm also confused as to why the grabbing was the line he didn't cross. Was it because he was trying to not do more, or because he was on his way to doing more or was this as far as he was ever going to go? I'm happy for the girls that Brian was caught. Nobody ever did anything to those kids in school and the creeps in bars rarely got told off either. Eventually I just started reacting with smart-a@@ comments like "Well was it as good for you as it was for me?" or "Is that it? No phone number?" When said with the right attitude it got the point across... But then again I'm not a child and when I started making those comments I wasn't either. Those young ladies were very lucky. They were lucky that during the time they were separated from those who were supposed to be guarding them, Brian came along rather than my attacker. They are also lucky that Tara confronted him and made a scene. WIth people like me, the jaded ones, there would have been no report because I'd have just asked him if I had enough junk in the trunk for him or told him I wasn't a tube of toothpaste. They wouldn't be able to confront their attacker and get closure, but now they can. They won't grow up afraid of penises, too grossed out to touch egg slime or wierded out by french kissing. Or if they do grow up this traumatised then people are not keeping their injuries in perspective. They should be taught to be thankful, to be careful, to be honest and that all they lost was some pride (and not even this if they learn that nobody can take pride away from them). It was a bad thing, but not the worst thing. I'm wondering if pedophilia comes on in stages. Is Buddah a pedo in training or does he have some strange compulsion to shock people (like flashers do) or what? What exactly is wrong with the guy? Pedophilia is a hard thing to get over and most don't so I do hope that there is something else wrong with Buddah. I really want to believe he wants help and that as he said he doesn't want to hurt people anymore. Maybe it's a bit because I care about him, maybe it's because I care about his wife, maybe I don't want to admit I befriended a creep, maybe it's because I truly want society to never have to worry about him again. it's probably a little of all of them. James says he does not believe that Buddah has real problems. He says it is an insult to mentally ill people for him to say so. Well, what stretch of the imagination, what frame of reference, what moral code would say it is ok to put your hands on some strangers butt without permission? There is none. So he does have a problem. It should be treated. I don't think that he should get away with anything, I don't think that he should plea out due to mental illness. Facing what you have done while you are sick is part of getting well. He did know it was wrong and I believe his wife too, when she said he was trying to get caught. If he hadn't wanted subconsciously to get caught then he would have picked some place without survellience like maybe a nice brisk walk by a school yard...? To me it's an insult to mankind not to believe that functional individuals, or seemingly functional ones, can't be mentally scarred, wounded or twisted. That mentality stops people from seeking help before things get out of hand. And finally...on to my observations from the forums linked to the newpaper articles online... It seemeth to me that the victims of the crime and their families can't understand that friends and family are victims too. Not of the same thing of course but yes we are victims. We were betrayed, lied to by ommission, misled and left with no real explanation at all as to why. I find it really condescending to sit in judgement over those of us who are upset that our friend isn't who we thought he was. We're grieving the loss of someone we loved, he may not have been real but the pain is quite real. We're angry that we were misled, we are in shock and a whole bunch of things. the families and friends of criminals do suffer and it's real and justified. Remember the amish and how they reacted to the killer's family? They embraced them and accepted that they too had pain. That is how it is when people do something wrong, they hurt many people, not just their intended victims. Open your eyes and see that and have the same compassion for us that you wish us to have for you. The Golden rule still works.

Attention Grabbing Behaviour

This is a diary of sorts for things which have happened in the past week or so. 8-17 Funny how your life can change in an instant. It's happened before many times but for me today was almost surreal. It started when James, my ex, called me to make sure I had a ride to work. I said I did and he said he hoped Buddah wasn't it. Buddah is a friend of ours, so named due to his physique. I said he wasn't, I was riding along with scorpy, but curiousity got me and I asked why. I wish I never had, but then again I was bound to find out anyway. James dropped a bomb. J: Because Buddah is in jail R: For what (I was thinking, driving too fast, maybe reckless driving...) J: For grabbing a woman's a@# at Walmart R: WHY? J: I don't know I hadn't really expected a good answer, there really isn't a good answer for that. I was still shocked but thought maybe it was a bad joke gone wrong. One that didn't mean any harm on his part but which had offended the wrong person cause as we all know, he had no right. Buddah was always an overgrown child, much as the rest of us in the MYXX are. Some kids don't know what the difference between "ha ha" and "dude that was just wrong" kinda funny actually is sometimes. See, I didn't identify him with another character I'd been following in the news because Buddah was someone I respected. He paid his bills, his child support, took care of his car, took care of his wife and was always there for his buds. The fact that he had a rather off sense of humour and played MTG just a tad too much wasn't really a concern. I trusted him enough to ride alone with him to work and to allow him to take my kids to MTG tournaments.... Oy the shock 8-18 Yesterday I discovered I knew the Walmart Butt Grabber. I'd seen the news for at least a week, some perv was assaulting young children at a few of the local walmarts. Then I was told it was someone I knew and trusted. I thought I knew him well, I guess I really didn't. I'd just ate at his house last week. They always show people that knew criminals when they find them, the press trolls the house and neighbourhood where you here everyone make comments like "I had no idea" or "I thought he was a nice guy" or "He was always so quiet" or...whatever. Nobody ever knows I guess. I never understoood this sort of thing, why people would just say stuff like that after they find out the dirt on someone they know...but now I do know. I know since I know Brian Terrell. At first I didn't realise that there were kids involved, I didn't put the woman and the kids together until yesterday night when the manager told me at work. I'd never suspected him to be a threat to anyone much less a child. He was someone who seemed at peace with himself and the world, happily married, just a little crazy but in a fun way, that sort of thing. Still waters run deep is what my mother always said, never pick on the quiet one cause they always get picked on and never pick back. Until they just blow up, then you're in trouble. I figured that with Brian, if anything happened to his family the world might crash down around him and he might snap, just like Mamma always said. But, this? Of course his wife is devastated and what do you say to someone who has found out that the person you've promised to spend your life with has grabbed kids on the rear? Is there anything adequate you could say? I don't believe you can. Her life once planned is now uncertain, she will have to raise her child alone, something she'd not planned on. She has friends, friends that will be there for her, but I still can't imagine her pain. I'm disappointed, he should have known better. I'm shocked, I mean if he needed help why didn't he tell us, we have people in our Myxx that are certifiable, nobody would have judged him for going to mental health...Not a single one of us would have condemned him for getting help if he'd have asked before he got arrested. I'm angry and hurt. I trusted him and that one girl was eight years old. I was sexually assaulted when I was a child and I'm glad he was caught before he degraded into the kind of sexual abuse I had to suffer. I would that my attacker would have only grabbed my a@#. I'm confused. I'm supposed to hate people that would do such things to children. I don't need people in my life I don't trust. But I don't hate him and I don't know why. 9-19 At work of course the discussion was "buddah the grabber" though some had to read it in the paper the boss provided. His picture looked confused, like he just didn't know what had happened to him, which is kinda the way the rest of us feel. We feel kind of like "what was that all about?" The crux of my problem is that he stopped and grabbed butts and did nothing else. I mean, is that indication that he isn't a pedophile but that he has something else wrong with him? Or is it indication that he was a beginner? Can he be helped if he is? the prognosis on most pedos is really bad. The whole of my emotion tonight can be summed up in my coworkers face when she read the paper. Her eyes got wide, her body went limp, her mouth hung open wide and wordless. Yep that's about right. 8-22 It seems the subject always comes back to Buddah. I wonder if this will be a long term thing or if we will ever get out of our collective shock. I still pray for his soul.

Alone with Myself

My children are getting older. Soon I will be alone with myself and I'm not sure I'm going to like it. I'm fine with who I am, but I dearly love and somewhat depend on the interaction of the family. I have plenty of plans for what I hope to accomplish...write...rather... finish writing the great american vampire novel, publish some photographs, that sort of thing. Who knows maybe I'll go crazy and actually have that garden I wanted to plant all my life and never got around to planting.... Ah but will I ever miss the laughter of the little ones, the jokes we shared, the good natured silly insults we made up and the strange food concoctions we've invented. Why do they have to grow up?

Lavender

I wonder if lavender smells good with wisteria. I've never smelled them together, but I want a small piece of land with a small home one day. It would have a garden in the back, thorney bushes below the windows and would be surrounded by sweet smelling English Lavender. I also want wisteria, which is why I wonder if they smell good together. I want to go outside to relax, swinging slowly on a porch swing, bare feet dangling in the breeze with the scent of my garden blowing over me. Lavender is one of my favourite scents, along with vanilla and musk...neither of which I can grow in my dream home. I'm told that lavender is relaxing by those who know about aroma therapy. Once when I was still married I tried it. I had lavender scented soap, perfume, lotion, oils, shampoo, conditioner, air freshner and linen mist. I didn't sleep any better, but I sure smelled better. I can't use the laundry detergent that I want because I'm sure my sons would not appreciate smelling of lavender and we have to use a public washer and share the load. One day though I will wash everything in it. I clean with it, I'll dry plants and use them as decorations. I'll do everything but swim in it. Come to think of it, I might even do that.

What I Learned #4

I Have Spent More Time On the Road Now That I Don't Have One You heard it here first. Now that I don't have a car which works, I'm always in a car. I know it's hard to believe but despite the fact that I spend days on end chewing my cheeks and pens because I want a shrimp salad from Red Lobster, I can't seem to get off the road the rest of the time. Argh!!!! One reason is that sometimes it's timing. When people come over and ask me if I want to ride along while they go on errands...and I need milk or to drop stuff off at the dump...I ride along even if they are going to drive for hours before getting near anything I need. Cause I dn't know when the opportunity to go to the store will present itself again. It always seems like they are going through California or Indianapolis to get to the dump 5 miles from me. Sometimes it is because it's the most convient for the driver. I never go out and do errands before work. I like to relax so I'm not riled up or hot or tired before I go in. But...since I'm riding to work with someone who does, I have to, which adds three hours to my day that afternoon. Otherwise I would have to ask them to come all the way back and that would be inconvenient for them. Sometimes it is because nobody is thinking clearly. Sometimes I'm given the van for a few days when scorpion is off work, provided I take his wife in when she needs to work. However, alot of the time they pull in on the way to do errands and then take her in. This makes no logical sense since most of the time I don't have to do anything and it's not helping me one iota. Why not get me on the way back so that I only have to drive Scorpy home and then come back? Or there is the infamous night the lights went out at Scorpy's. I was informed on Wed that I would get the van when his wife was gone to work Thurs. I said yes...and went to bed that night thinking everything was fine. SCorpy and DarkChylde went to bed thinking they owed no money to the light company. Apparently, however, there was a massive black hole which passed over their mailbox and ate their light bill a few days beforehand. So there was no bill and they didn't pay anything. And the lights went out. About 2pm, I woke to a knock at the door. I opened it to find Scorpy standing there. "the lights got cut off, I gotta go find some money." Now if I'd been thinking, I'd have said, well forget my errands and go. And if Scorpy had been thinking clearly he'd have said he had things to do. He had not planned to give me the van that day, and I did not think to ask. But he asked me to get in the van and I got in. I arrived at home at 7 pm with a different vehicle, one that they had offered to sell me a week before. I spent five hours running around in the back of a hot vehicle for nothing I had to do.

What I Learned #3

Having No Car Dooms You to Cravings I'm the type of person who rarely has cravings. When I do they are generally related to hormones, sated by a small token and easy to manage, so long as I remember that over time they will intensify in depth and severity. Thus you can't follow the advice to never keep goodies in the house. It's much better to apease the cravings when they can be sated with a single bag of M and Ms rather than wait until they have become blown out of proportion and require bulimic portions. Suprise cravings were also easily handled when I had a vehicle. Now I have cravings unrelated to hormones and which tend to arrive at a time of day which would find me face to face with a sleepy eyed redneck with bedhead, brandishing a gun and asking me if I know the current time if I tried to find a ride. They are also for things for which I cannot plan nor can I create these items at home as they are not part of my normal diet. Unfortunately, since I have not had steady access to a vehicle, they have reached unreasonable levels which, if exercised, would keep a dozen bulimics busy for at least a month straight. I'm not a binge/purge eater anymore, so I am not about to risk eating these things. At the same time, I know it will only get worse with time. I can only hope that this is some leftover remnant of original sin, the grass is always greener, forbidden fruit syndrome. Perhaps it will go away when I have a vehicle and things are readily available. If not I will have to head to the looney bin. I Have People You hear important or rich folk speak of having "people." Socialites also speak of it. But me? Well, I have people too. Most of the people I have around me are considerate of my condition right now - They are more than willing to drive me places, check in and see if I need anything, or if they can help me fix the car. My friends have taken me shopping, taken my trash, dropped each other off at my place to hang out, take me to and from work and lent me their vehicles. This all proves, I am important to at least some ... I have people.

What I :earned #2

Cellphone Minutes Disappear in Direct Proportion to you Inability to Purchase More I got a prepaid cellphone service to avoid the pricey deposits required for most plans. I didn't worry too much when I had a land line, I would shell out about 20 bucks every three months or so. But when my land line went away and I began relying on this line for everything, the amount of money I spent began to matter Oddly enough, when I had a car, cellphone minutes would last for at least a paycheck, now that I have no car, they rarely do and on more than one occasion they have disappeared in less than 24 hours. WHen I had a car, people rarely called and when they did, they got to the point. Now that I can't just run out and replace them, everyone calls and for some reason they don't economise their words. It's odd, It's expensive, it's incredible and I sure don't understand. People who Know Less About Cars than I Do, Ask... Not "have you found out what is wrong with that car yet?" but instead "SO, just what was it doing just before it died?" It's amusing, especially when these same people had no idea that you could unplug the battery every night when I was doing it to avoid a constant power drain. I humour them, of course, because these people are also usually not the ones I wish to discuss the real meaning of the national debt, the effect of Karl Marx on the family, comparative religions, or the consequences of string theory with. At the same time, If they could tell me what was wrong, I surely could have figured it out long ago.... You Don't Save Money By Being Stuck on My Own Believe it or not it's true. It has to do with the price of gas and the fact that it's rude not to pay people even for short trips down the road. I've paid people 5 bucks to run me to the pig. You don't save money doing that.

Things I Learned #1

Recently my vehicle which I have lovingly dubbed Inuyasha has become too sick to drive. It's not a permanent condition, but it is something that has changed my life somewhat and messed up whatever groove I had been developing in the past few years. Here are a few things I have learned.... Having and Unexpected Winfall is a Tragedy The reason is that you can't have fun with it. God, Satan, the universe, the government, global warming, terrorists, the illuminati and international spies have all conspired to separate you from your cash. When I recently procured a small sum I had planned to move, get new glasses, go out to eat and get a new camera. What I ended up doing was moving and then having my car towed. Heaven only knows what tragedy would have ensued if I had decided to go to red lobster before I moved. Now I am to the point I dread having found money. If I didn't find any, maybe the crisis which would have occured would instead pass over me. It is worth a shot anyway.

The Definition of ME

Have you ever really paid attention to how you answer when people ask you about yourself. You know the kind of descriptions you give to people you don't know, like say, on myspace or a job interview or even a dating site for that matter? How do you define yourself? I've thought about that alot lately. I know it's not how I make my living. Right now I make pizza. That definately has nothing to do with who I am at my core. ONe of my writing books said that if you said you were a writer, then you need to write. It wasn't about being published, it was about the process of writing. That's actually pretty profound if you take it to it's logical conclusion. If the passion to create and do flows from within and you do something with it, then that truely is your inner self, or at least a part of it. That is true authenticity at it's core. Now to apply it...that is the art to life is it not?