LIFE

My Life is a S
                    T
                   R
                   I
                  N
                  G
                        dangling for others to toy with

My life is small that a breeze
could send it s
                       a
                         i
                            l
                               i
                                  n
                                     g  in the wind

Yet my life is mine.
And I can make it WHATEVER I want
I am the one in control and can shake it into

            t       I                                      T    o
        a                W                         t               B
     h                        a                 I                         e
W                                 n      t                                

                 Into something I'm proud to be.
                                     ME              

Never Stop Driving

Yesterday was friggin gorgeous, it was absolutely beautiful. I was driving to my horse lesson which is a good hour away from where I live and I couldn't help  but think about what if I just kept driving. The sky was such a deep blue with a few fluffy clouds that looked like cotton balls. The road just kept stretching out twisting and turning with only a few cars passing because of the fact that I was taking back Country roads. The radio was on blasting mindless music to fill up the space and make it more comfortable. The view of the green grass, trees, the occasional house or farm was just beautiful. I never wanted to stop driving.

Making Peace With An Empty Building

I'm not even out of my car in the parking lot and I feel petrified. Everyone else in the car is moving around getting there stuff to get out and all I feel like is turning around and running away. But I force myself out of that car. I cross my arms, square my shoulders an walk out into the parking lot. The closer I get to the building I can feel my skin crawling, as if my flesh is attempting to leave and crawl away far far away from my personal Hell. My boyfriend turns around and asks me if everything is all right and I just nod, because I'm afraid to speak. My voice is stuck in my throat and I'm not sure if it's caught between a scream or a sob. My cousin is jumping up the stairs two by two and making comments about how Heaven is going to send down flames and smite him because he's about to enter a church. I tell him to shut up it's just a building. Just a building, that's what I keep trying to tell myself.

I open the door, I'm the first one to step into the building and I swear for a second my heart just stops beating, but then it continues again. We're alone in the building, well close enough to alone. The Spanish Ministry are downstairs having a meeting with a bit of dinner but I stay out of there way making sure to avoid the room. For a second my eyes meet his and I frown and look away, I expect him to get up and say something to me but he stays at the table with the rest of his ministry and I let out a sigh of relief. We quickly return the tables we have borrowed for my graduation party and I realize this may be the only time I'm in this church basically alone. My memories are always haunting and this might be the only chance I get to make some sort of piece. I tell my cousin and friend that I'll meet them outside at my car in a minute, my boyfriend is a bit smarter then that. I race up the stairs and hope that I lose him and for a second I'm sure I did.

There's a room up the stairs to the right, the room is empty now, there are stained glass windows all around. One of the only rooms with stained glass windows. I go to the one on the fair left and look out the multicolored glass. Outside is a house, I used to imagine myself standing at that porch staring in at those stained glass windows instead of staring out of them because I was stuck in a prison. This was one of the few rooms I was able to breath in, even now breathing comes easier.

The door behind me opens and my boyfriend's talking attempting to fill up the silence, but I want the silence. These walls have been redone, I tell him. He's confused and asks me how I know. But again I don't answer, I can feel tears well up in my eyes as I stare out the small blue circle of glass. I know because I used to be able to sit down and stare out this window while I sobbed, but now to see out of it I have to stand out. But I don't tell him anything. He understands that I want to be left alone and he leaves the room leaving me with my memories. Of all the time my youth group had met in that room, all the times I laughed and had fun. All those times I was alone and wished I was somewhere else. Finally I have gone through all the memories and I leave the room into the main worship area of the church. I take one step into the main area and I swear I can't breath. It's as if the air has snaked around my throat and started to constrict, as if I was attempting to swallow in water. It's just a building I tell myself and the feeling leaves, but I'm left shaken.

Quickly I walk to the other end of the church down a different stairwell. My boyfriend has noticed and is following me again. I tell him I'm going to the bathroom, which I am. And he says he'll wait for me. I enter the bathroom, it's different then I last remember. The walls have been painted, it smells nice, and it has been decorated. But there's still that space underneath the sinks and I get on my hands and knees and crawl underneath it. I sit on the ground with my back against the wall and the sink above me, holding my knees to my chest. Here I can breath, here I feel safe. The one place in the whole building I've always felt safe. Whenever something went wrong this is where I hid, I can't count how many times Ky or Ang have found me holed up underneath there. And here is where I find what I was looking for. I get out from underneath, leave the bathroom, walk up those stairs, and walk out of the church.

I was talking to a friend about the builing afterwords and she told me that I can't make peace with that place until I make peace with myself. And I realized something, I don't want to make peace with that building. I'm not done with that building, I'm still being dragged there and I will for as long as my mother keeps going there. Not only that but while that building holds some of the worst moments of my life, it also holds some of the best memories. It's the cornerstone of my life, it made me who I am today. I can't forget it, if I forget it then I forget who I am and where I've been.

Anywhere but here

There's this picture in my folders on my computer, and its been haunting me all day. It's a picture of gray clouds and a telephone wire. And on those wires are these black birds just sitting there and chilling. There's writing on the top that says "I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth." And at the bottom it states "then I ask myself the same question."

I  was sitting in my car earlier today in the Arby's parking lot sipping on my Jamocha shake with my mom and my little sister. We were waiting for dad to finish looking at the flowers across the street. My mother and she asked me if I had told Tigger that I want to live in Mankato and St. Peter after school. And I just looked at her and shrugged and continued to watch the rain drops roll down the front windshield. "No." I answered. "Everything's up in the air I don't know what I want to do." I looked back over at her and said. "You know I have this picture and it says something like why do birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere they want, and then I turn to myself and ask the same thing." 

Silence settled in the car, and my eight year old sister in all her infinite wisdom answered "Because it's comfy." 

My mother and I cracked up and I just shook my head. "Well we know she'll be sticking around." And my mother just nodded in agreement and then the air settled again. "Rachel is not going to be like me. She's fine staying in one place, but I want to travel, I want to see the world. I want to go live in Europe, go to New Orleans, live in a city preferably west coast since I've never been there. Maybe Portland, Seattle, LA, San Francisco, visit New York, go to Asia, Australia, South America, hey maybe I'll end up a Canadian and live in Toranto."

My mother answered, "Well then vacation." As if the answer would be as simple as just to vacation. But it's not. 

 I'm nomadic. Sure eventually I'll settle down and be happy but I'm not expecting that till I'm thirty. I noticed something about me. I dislike commitment, even when the commitment is somewhere that I live. I get restless. The idea to leave Gustavus just to experience a different campus and place has crossed my mind, but I'd hate it wherever I went because I love it here. I spent all of elementary school and middle school crossing my fingers that my parents would have this random idea to pack up and leave so I could move somewhere. By the time highschool rolled around I gave up that hope and instead crossed my fingers and hoped to get out of that school in three years, which I did. 

Maybe it's all just a dream though, the idea that ever city is different and new and exciting. And sure it is new and exciting the first year but after that it becomes routine. I'm probably just fooling myself. The next town will probably be like the last, but at least I gave it a chance. I've never been out of the US, the closest thing to traveling and vacationing I've been on is to NYC and that's staying in one place because first of all I was twelve, and second we were visiting family or the Jersey shore, which I love with a passion but will no longer see since we moved my great aunt to MN. I'm just restless, and the idea of going back to Monticello just for three months for the summer is making me even more restless. I just want to hop into my car, fill up the gas tank and drive. Drive, and drive, and drive until the gas and money run out just to say I've done that. Just to have the experience of going somewhere instead of staying in the same old place. Here. 

Doll House

In the corner of a child's room is a doll house closed shut with a bow on top. A present for a young girl who comes home to find the welcomed gift. The child walks around the house, not noticing much of the details, other than the fact that it's a new toy. Her grubby little fingers find the latch and she opens it up. Three little dolls tumble out, there's a mommy, a daddy, and a baby. The child squeals with delight and claps her hands together. Wrapping her fingers around the dolls she brings them to her mouth to chew on the top of their heads, her drool staining their hand-sown clothes.

The child has grown and now is able to make a family structure. She makes the mom talk to the father as they discuss things like how their days are going and what's for dinner in the bottom left room which is designated as the kitchen. Each empty room is given a purpose. The bottom left has now collected a little fridge, a stove, and a table with two chairs and a baby's seat. The bottom right half has a long couch with little square throw pillows. A lamp hides in the corner and a miniature tv set sits in front of the couch. The window has collected a sticker to show the sun and the green grass outside. The middle half of the house has two rooms on each side. One is the bathroom with a little toilet and bathtub along with a sink. The other is a guest room with a bed that sometimes gets slept on when the barbies decide  to visit the family. One room is the for the baby who never seems to age. A crib with a favorite blanket and one of those mobiles that go round and around. A box with toys lines one end of the room and a rug covers the floor to soften it so the baby can crawl on the ground. The lats room is the parents room where they sleep together in a large bed. A desk also occupies the room so the father can work when he needs too. The top of the house is an attic on both sides. Nothing resides in the attic but dust and old memories that are only known to the dolls.

Time has taken its toll on the house. The bright pink has now faded and holds a brown tint from all the dirt and dust it has collected. The sticker is starting to peel off the window and certain furniture has been lost with time. The baby is still in the crib while the mom and dad still sit in the kitchen eternally discussing the weather. But new things have collected in the house. A lost sock hides in the living room corner. A ribbon for academic success rests on the roof.  A tennis ball that rolled in one day and never rolled back out. A G.I. Joe that took a rest from his hard battles in the guest bedroom. A dog's chew toy from when the dog had came into the room and was quickly ushered out. A love note from some forgotten admirer. A key hides under the baby's rug from the lock diary that has always stayed locked. Darkness settles over the house as a discarded sweatshirt lands over the house and they stay in darkness for awhile.

The house is jostled as it is moved from its sacred resting space. It's going to live in a new place and the owners of the house are happy for the change of scenery until they realize how dark and musty it is. They had been lonely for awhile, no one had played with them for years and the child was long gone, but they realized it was just as lonely up here as it was down there. Rays of light would sometimes trickle into the house but nothing could brighten up the mood.

The click of a door while footsteps pound up those stairs. A child's giggle, something the house hadn't heard for years. The child stopped in front front of the house and his little fingers fumbled with the latch. The house creaked as it opened revealing eight empty rooms. The dolls had long been lost and all that was left was the empty shell of the house. "Adam, where are you?" More footsteps and a women entered staring at the house with wide eyes. She reached out and gently touched the walls of the house. The house brighten with memories of it was loved and played with by those hands. Times when it's paint wasn't chipped and it was occupied by scores of toys. The house was closed and locked up once again, but this time it was happy. Happy to be moved out of the dark place and back with its loving original owner.

Missing Muse

My Muse has left the building.
It's gone on vacation and left no calling card.

My muse likes to do this to me, come and go as it pleases. I find it extremely annoying. I enjoy writing, it's my pastime, it's even more than that to me. It's my escape, my escape from reality. Not that I need to escape from reality anymore, other than the fact that it starts to become mundane and boring recently. Studying, homework, work, meetings, school. That's a lot less interesting then dramatic life changing problems, angels, demons, swords, and magick. During the summer I immerse myself in my writing only surfacing when my mother calls me because it's dinner or she's tired of me sitting on the computer all day typing away. Not that she'd understand what it's like to lose yourself in a story, character, and plot line where you can be anyone you want to be and do whatever you want. During the school year I don't write as often, though I keep one or two online stories (otherwise known as rps) with some friends of mine.

During Easter break I had found my muse, she had once again came to visit me. I started many rps and a story of my own. I was able to sit on the couch for hours on end and just type away letting words fill the page. But since I've came back I've noticed a decline in my writing and now my muse has left. She's gone on vacation again probably Jamaica this time. I just wish I had some warning, a mental mind note would be nice. "Hey I'm leaving. Coming back whenever I feel like" Though I doubt that'd be very helpful. Mainly I want my muse back because I want to write again to relieve my stress from finals, but maybe it's a good thing it's gone otherwise I'd get distracted.

Well this post was mainly to get the wheels in my head churning. Hopefully I will find my muse again or she'll come back.

Highschool Memories

Today while walking around the campus center I saw the school newspaper, The Weekly, out. Every week I read the newspaper...well more like skim it for things I find interesting and the calender in the back (Which I was disappointed to find that it was not in the paper this week). And in the middle of the paper was this article called Hipster Bingo and I was just laughing as I walked to my beginning acting class. Checking off every box in my mind that I had in common with the bingo sheet, though I am far from classifying myself as a hipster. But as I did this I thought about the difference between Highschool and College. I remember in highschool to "conform" to being unique and an individual you were emo/scene and that's still something raging in highschools today. And then you come to college and it seems to shift from emo/scene to hipster.

And this thought process made my think back on my middle school and highschool years and how I used to dress. In middle school I wore black all the time. Then right before highschool my friends went shopping with me and every time I picked up something black they'd take it from me and place it back on the shelf. So that is how I ended up with color in my wardrobe my freshmen year. During my freshmen year of highschool I wore my black with neon color, picked up skinny jeans, adopted converse, wore two to three belts none of them used to hold up my pants, wore gloves, had my arm covered with bracelets, and wore at least three necklaces every day with my chocker. I mixed up my shirts and would layer them, sometimes pulled out the knee high socks (with skirts/shorts), dyed my hair and teased it every morning, had the scarves and bandannas, and the thick eyeliner that went out in wings. To say the least I was sorta a fashion disaster some days. For a point of reference here is me in either my late sophmore year or junior year.

Hilarious isn't it? 

Though to be perfectly honest I haven't changed much style wise. True in the last two years I've toned it down a lot. I've dropped some things, like the gloves mainly. But when I think about it I still dress like that. True this year I've only had three times when I actually had time to care about my appearance and I didn't just roll out of my bed look at my cell phone and realize I have 10-15 minutes to get to class. But if you still go through my clothes I still mainly only wear skinny jeans (the only reason I have normal jeans is cause my mom made me buy them this summer). I own eight pairs of converse, I have all the black clothes still, some of them still from 9th or 8th grade. I still own all the jewelery that I use to wear and when I have the chance to put Kandi all up my arm I'm extremely happy. I dye my hair constantly and if I had the time I'd tease it up, and I still wear thick eyeliner. So I guess a lot hasn't changed. Probably because I adore the style. The thing is I didn't change the way I dressed to fit in with some sort of group or stereotype (trust me in my school all the other emo/scene/outcasts hated me) I dressed the way I did because I enjoyed it.

Today, May 3 2011. Today

Today has been a beautiful day, a lot of deep dialogue has happened and now I'm just sitting here in the library chewing over everything that has been spoken today. Already bits and pieces of it are slipping from my mind being pressed forward by the pressing issue of school. But I wanted to write it down before all my thoughts have evaporated into thin air. These are the topics that were discussed today in no particular order.

Parents
Remember when you were young and you idolized your parents? That no matter what they do they were perfect in your eyes. You looked up to them for everything. Any praise they gave you, you clung to tightly storing it in your mind. That whenever you disappoint them you feel like your world has changed. So when do these people you idolize become just like everyone else? When you begin to realize that they are  human just like you. That they have faults, and problems, and don't make the best decisions.

One of my closest friends is dealing with this issue. And I remember telling him that you grow up and you begin to see the world differently and you begin to see the faults in your parents. You remember them as being the person you looked up to, that was perfect in your eyes and now you don't see them like that anymore and your brain is trying to connect the dots but it can't. Your parents change over time, we like to believe that people stay the same but they don't and we need to understand that. And while your parents have changed you have to understand you have changed also.

I suppose when I began to see my parents differently was in middle school. When that naivee little world I lived in came crashing down all around me. And the view of the world changed for me and I had to grow up. But I wanted to protect my parents. I spent my whole middleschool and highschool life trying to protect my parents in my own way. Trying to protect them from the truth that their little girl was growing up and that she was going through a hard time. That she was facing challenges on her own and forming her own beliefs. Even now I find myself trying to protect them from who I am. Because what I want them to remember is the little girl who believed that the world was perfect. Who had no worries, who believed everything she was told. Who had no problems other then the ones she created in her imaginary world with her beanie babies. And I think my parents tried to do the same thing in their own way. I can't be naivee and say that they never noticed, because they noticed and that's why we fought all the time. I can't actually say what my parents were trying to do. I want to say they wanted to live in their delusion that everything was fine, but that wasn't it. I want to say that they wanted to understand and try to talk to me, but I'm not sure that is completely correct. But I do know they wanted to protect me and I wanted to protect them and because we never communicated we lost a lot.

Same-sex marriage
Today I read the most interesting article on same-sex marriage. It was about how same-sex marriage would affect the views of people in same-sex romantic relationships. Now that marriage is becoming an option for LGBT people it is becoming an important issue in LGBT communities. First off it'd make it more real to both people who are in the relationship and people who know the couple. Now that marriage is an option a lot of couples are feeling a sense of more (as they described) "realness" in their relationships. It's beginning to reach a new level of a deeper commitment. Not only that but people, friends, family, bosses, and the government, are going to have to take them far more seriously because they are legally husband and husband or wife and wife. Second of all when looking for a romantic partner now what they're looking for is changing. Those who want to settle down and get married are now dating people thinking would this person make a good spouse or a good parent. Those who don't want to get married now have less of a pool to choose from. And then those who are in a committed relationship and who plan to get married are having issues with gender roles. For example there is a lesbian couple who wants to get married but the proposal is the problem. They both want to be the "girl" in the relationship and want the other person to propose spontaneously. A gay couple both want to have a traditional Jewish wedding but are having issues with the gender roles and who should do them with breaking the glass and traditional the bride would walk around the husband seven times, but who is the bride in this case since they are both male?

This article is interesting to me, and I never thought of it like that. To me I always wanted to settle down with someone I suppose I figured same-sex marriage would be allowed by then or that a commitment ceremony would suffice. But I never got in a relationship that seriously to have to worry about that. And now that I'm in a relationship with a male, if it ever got that far down in the line, I wouldn't have to worry about any of that. In this heterosexual norm society we grew up in we already know to look for a spouse in the other person when we begin to date someone seriously. We don't ever notice the gender roles that take place in weddings because there is a man and a women and that's something we don't have to question or worry about. This article just made me think about a lot of things.

Feminism
If anyone hasn't noticed already, I'm a bit (A LOT) of a feminist. And today I was talking about it with my boyfriend. He gets uncomfortable when the topic comes up, not because he doesn't support it because he does fully, but he feels that there is anger directed at him because he is male. Plus he has this girl at his school who makes a big deal out of it and tries to fight him all the time saying men are the evil of the world blah blah blah. So I told him that next time she tries to fight with him just say I'm a feminist. And interesting enough he said he would but he was very unsure about it. I eventually got him to talk about it and he didn't want to say that because then that would identify him as a girl, which shocked me a little bit. But it's so true. We have this view of feminist that first off they have to be girls. They have to be angry all the time. They have to be outspoken. And they have to hate men. And none of these things are true at all.

 First off feminists don't have to be girls they can be men. As long as you believe that women should be treated as equals to men, and should be respected by men you have became a feminist in my book. We need men to start saying that they are feminists and to bring awareness because no one listens to a women who says they are a feminist instead they force these labels on her and ignore her. This kinda ties into the idea of privilege (look below). Men have more privilege then women and they have to recognize that so they can use their privilege and help us fight for our privilege and equal rights. No one listens to a group of women talking about women rights, but if it was a group of men then maybe someone would listen.

 Second of all feminists shouldn't be always angry. Yes, it's okay to be angry and to say your point of view. But if you're always fighting and always defensive no one is going to listen to you. Instead you should  say what you have to say and walk away if the other person gets defensive because you've given them something to chew on and that's enough. If you fight them no one is going to benefit.

 Third of all, feminists should not hate men. Hate is just an ugly idea to me and no one should hate anyone.

Privilege and Oppression
An interesting thing talked about for awhile has been privilege, I didn't go to the white privilege conference but I've heard a lot about it and sorta just chewed on it. And someone once said you need to understand the privilege you have and identify the privilege you don't have to start to understand the problem. And if you have a higher privilege then someone you should use your privilege to help them. Such as in my feminist example, we need who have the privilege to help women get their privilege. We need the rich to help the poor. We need the heterosexuals to fight for same-sex marriage. Etc.

Not only that but then there's oppression and how oppression today isn't talked about in an outward fashion but is secretive. Like we say there is no racism, but then why did different ethnicities stick together? Why do we have a ghetto? And why when we see someone's skin color we make assumptions and stereotypes without meaning to? Because racism still exists.

What I think is most interesting is when our privilege becomes our oppression. My boyfriend tonight said he hated it. He hated being white and being a male because everyone blames him even though he didn't do anything. He is blamed for everything the Europeans and Americans have done before even though he's never done those things. And because he's male people tell him he treats girls like crap or blame him for all of male's superiority when that's not him at all. I just find it so fascinating. While it's totally okay to think like that and I believe it makes for good dialogue the next step. Is too accept your privilege because fighting it isn't helping yourself or anybody else, and to understand that you have it and use it to help other people.

Abortion
I am pro-choice. That does not mean that I am all for abortion. I think it's interesting that people hear those words and jump straight to that conclusion. Abortion is the last thing I'd tell someone to do. I would never ever think about having an abortion. And if someone was thinking about having an abortion I'd try to talk them out of it and talk them into adoption. But I do believe that there should be a choice. That women shouldn't have to jump through all these legal loops that make it almost impossible to have an abortion and that when they can't do it legally they do it in a way that is dangerous to themselves.

Women's sexuality
And in an odd way abortion makes a connection to women's sexuality. Mainly that the law is trying to make all these laws and regulations on women's bodies without talking about the man issue. Women and Sex. My friend brought up this point today and I thought it was brilliant. It's so true. If women are getting pregnant obviously they are having sex and they should learn how to do it safely and with protection. Not only that but women are sexual being also, we don't call a man who sleeps around a whore but we call a women one. That is not right. First off what you do in your bedroom is your business and your business alone. If you feel inclined to tell someone then you should be able to do so without judgement. Women, sex, and masturbation should be talked about more freely. More interesting is the fact that most women have no idea about their own anatomy. Where is the article in cosmo that talks about how to please a women instead of how to please a man? I didn't have the sex talk with my parents I had to figure out everything for myself, and even though it would have been soooo awkward, I should have had someone to tell me about my own anatomy. Not only that but why is men masturbating something no one bats an eye at but the moment a women does and admits people get awkward. I think it is something we should talk more openly about and should be more comfortable with.

Culture
Never before this year have I thought about my culture. My father is Costa Rican so I'm half Hispanic, but my mother isn't and we never spoke Spanish in my house. We didn't grow up in that culture. I just use to check off the box that said Hispanic when asked what my ethnicity is. But I never really thought about it or lived it. When it came to family reunions on my dad side everyone was speaking Spanish and I'd just go downstairs and hide until it was done. I rejected a lot of Hispanic culture now that I look back on it and it makes me sad. Now that I'm here at Gustavus I'm meeting people who actually speak Spanish go to all the cultural events and it makes me wish that I had learned when I was younger. I'm finally feeling this cultural disconnect. The other day someone told me I should just identify with white and I just wanted to say, but I'm not white! I'm Hispanic! But do I have a right to claim that? It's something a lot of bi-racial people have to deal with and I'm finally feeling the affect of it. Next year I'm going to Costa Rica for J-term ((hopefully *crosses fingers*)) and the majority of the reason is because I want to feel some cultural connection. I want to see the place where my dad is from. I want to learn Spanish now and be able to speak to my grandparents in Spanish. It's not fair that they have to speak English to me when they're older. I'm younger I'm the one who is suppose to bridge that gap not them.

Today, May 3 2011, has been a day of deep thought and life. And I loved it. Here is a beautiful picture to leave you with for the night.

Privilege

Privilege [priv-uh-lij, priv-lij]
noun
a right, immunity, or benefit enjoyed only by a person beyond the advantages of most.

I am privileged to be able to go to a small liberal arts school that costs over 40,000 a year
I am privileged to always have shelter or a roof over my head
I am privileged to have food beyond what I need to survive
I am privileged to have a mom and a dad who are still married and still love each other
I am privileged to have friends that care about me
I am privileged to show emotions
I am privileged to have a bed
I am privileged to have clothes, shoes, and even beyond that
I am privileged to have a zune, cell phone, netbook, laptop, electronics
I am privileged to have clean water
I am privileged to have electricity and heat
I am privileged to have a car
I am privileged to express my identity
I am privileged to wear what I want
I am privileged to be a women
I am privileged to express my sexuality
I am privileged to have the freedom of speech and debate
I am privileged to have my own beliefs, values, morals, religion
I am privileged to travel
I am privileged to try to make social change in the world
I am privileged to dream and try to make that dream happen
I am privileged to make money
I am privileged to have a government who (for the most part) is on my side
I am privileged to have security
I am privileged to have medical assistance
I am privileged to have a job
I am privileged to be safe physically
I am privileged to be middle class
I am privileged to have opportunities

These are just a few of the many privileges I have. Every human being has a right to these things, but until that right is equal among all I am privileged to be able to do and have these things. I must remember that these are privileges and they can be stripped from me like they are stripped away from other human beings. I must be aware that I am granted these privileges and should make the most of it; so I can take what I learn and apply it to the world around me to make these privileges rights that every human being on this earth can have.

Rain Rain Stay Today Come Again Another Day

I love rain.

For the past day it's been raining at my college and it makes me so happy. Yesterday when walking back to my room I just stopped on the sidewalk and lifted my head towards the sky. Feeling the drops fall on my face and roll down the skin. I love the appearance of rain the small clear balls of rain falling from the sky, illuminated by the street lamps or by the dark of the night. Every time it rains I have to be outside. I normally stand in the rain until my hair is drenched and plastered against my forehead, my eyeliner is running down my face, and my clothes start to stick to my body. Some of my best memories were in downpours, running around in the backyard with a group of friends, dancing in the rain, doing cartwheels and somersaults, and playing red rover even though everyone's hands kept slipping because of the water. I've always wanted to get one of those cheap plastic pools and fill it with water and just jump in it when it's down pouring. I've always wanted to attempt to wash my hair in the rain and see how far I get. I've always wanted to kiss someone I care about in a down pour. And someday all those things I want to do are things I'm going to do.

I always find it fascinating how people attempt to describe rain and why it happens. One of my favorite ways is the saying that when it rains the angel's are crying. I find that oddly poetic, just the imagery of angel's crying. In my mind Angel's are mighty creatures, full of justice and vengeance, holy, warriors, and guardians. What could possibly cause those great creatures to cry? The fact that Angel's would show that suppose sign of weakness and not be ashamed of it. It makes me go wow. Or rain to me is mother nature's sign of life. Everything on this earth needs water to survive. Everyone sees rain as a nuisance but without it the grass wouldn't turn green, the trees wouldn't grow, and the flowers we admire wouldn't bloom. It's mother's nature way of waking up the earth.

My love for rain probably stems for my love of water and swimming. For three years I swam all four seasons, spring, summer, fall, and winter with no break in between. I loved swimming, what I didn't love was going to practice for two hours everyday and the competitiveness of the sport. I didn't swim to beat someone's time or even my own time. I swam because I needed it. I swam because without it my thoughts would have consumed me. I was drowning in everything else and I needed something real in my life. Air was too thin, to abstract. I knew it was around me but I couldn't feel it, it didn't support me. But water, water you could feel. If you ever just stop and stand or lay in the water you can feel it moving against your skin. When you submerge yourself you can feel it mold to the shape of your movements, you can feel your hair spreading out taken by the currents, you feel weightless. And when you swam and sliced the water you could feel it churning around you. Water was my support, my one constant during that time. But I'm far away from that time now. After I made myself see things differently I didn't need that support or constant, I no longer needed the endless thoughtless drills where I didn't think of anything else. And my dislike of the sport started to show and so I quit. I miss it, I miss the drone of swimming but I'd never do it competitively again. But every now and then when I need that feel of something surrounding me or something real I find myself once again at the edge of a body of water, whether that be a pool, a lake, an ocean, or the quarries I always go to.  

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Mirror Mirror On The Wall...


I look into the two way looking glass every time I get up in the morning. But sometimes the face that stares back surprises me. That girl who stares back is a stranger to me. But those brown eyes, they say eyes are the windows to a person's soul, and her eyes always tell a story. Sometimes she looks so happy so confident I envy her, I wish I could look and think  like that. Sometimes she seems so innocent I want to guard her from the rest of the cruel and evil world. Sometimes she looks so lost, hurt and insecure I just want to wrap her up in my arms and tell her everything is going to be all right. But those times, those times when her brown eyes are so cold, detached from the rest of the world. When they seem so distant, unable to trust, so guarded all I want to do is slam my fist on the glass. Banging on the mirror until it breaks into a million little raining shards and yell; Why?! Who did this to you? Who hurt you so badly you lost all your belief in humanity? Who and what destroyed you? Don't turn away! Don't run! Don't hide! Just tell me. And other times when I look into that mirror both of us smile and share a secret laugh, so attached and so intertwined I have no idea where I start and where she ends. Two images that make one person. 


Mirrors have always been a fascination of mine. A morbid gothic fascination of mine. Horror movies that use mirrors are my vice.I'm deathly afraid of mirrors when I sleep. There is just something about mirrors and how they could possibly be a two way looking glass, and you have no idea who is staring in at the other end.

Mirrors are such a part of everyday life, so common we don't even notice them anymore. Every morning we get ready for our day and we brush our hair, wash our faces, brush our teeth, put on make up, shave, and in one point of your morning you have looked into a mirror without even realizing it. If mirrors were absent we'd notice how weird it is to not have that reflection to guide us.

The most interesting thing that mirrors are used for, in my opinion, is self discovery. Who looks into a mirror and is all of a sudden given the answers. But in some cases people say stare into a mirror and tell me what you see. Most of the time the answers start out with my face, or myself, but as people continue on they start to see their flaws, or their talents. Whether that be an internal or external thing. I think it's interesting that such a mundane object can be used for such deep thought.

A Text Message With My Boyfriend

Today has been an interesting day. I find myself in one of those deep thinking moods. You know the ones, where you're not quite depressed but you're not your normal giddy self. The moods where everything around you seems to send you into thinking about something. My mind has been a jumble of racing thoughts and all I want to do is sit on the grass and sort them out. But unfortunately it is raining and nasty outside, so as I stare out the window in the caf my thoughts keep racing in my head, tripping over each other, and crashing into a mess of words, and incomplete sentences. A text message conversation I had with my boyfriend was the best way I've been able to sort out my thoughts all day.

Now i am laying in the sun
11:28AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: boyfriend

Jealous it's raining here
11:35AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: Me

Not bad
11:35AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: boyfriend

I know but all I want to do is lay down on the grass and think about life and try to make sense of my jumbled thoughts
11:36AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: Me

Explain
11:37AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: boyfriend

Well if its jumbled you can't really explain it can you?
11:38AM Wed, Apr. 13
From:Me

Try me
11:38AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: boyfriend

I mean its jumbled that if I texted it and wrote it down it wouldn't make sense its more of a running commentary
11:42AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: Me

About
11:42AM Wed, Apr. 13
From boyfriend

Life..what I want to do with my life, other peoples lives, what we percieve our world to be but at every stage of life our perception changes and living here in america we're blessed. And no matter what our world, as real as it is to us, isn't the real world that a million other people are living. We don't have to worry about food, war, shelter, excessive beating and murder that people face everyday in some third world country. And how much I just want to help and make a change even if that's for a single person and I want to do it now. But at the same time I have to be realistic and I am doing things that matter and i'm taking classes trying to do non-profit and do social actions. I want to go to india and work intern over a summer with MUST and I'm thinking of being in the peace corps or something similar after school maybe before graduate school but at the same time what if I'm just saying all of this but I don't actually do it. What if I'm that naivee girl with all these great thoughts and wishes and good intentions but was raised in a well to do family in the suburbs and truly has no idea about the real world. And that no matter what she does nothing is going to change. But at the same time I'm not naivee I know changing the world is impossible and it's a process that'll take longer then my lifetime. But all I want to do is make an impact in someone's life and I'll be happy. And without those naivee people with those great thoughts where would the world be? I know I should be worrying about school and this year and not what is to come. And I have a lot more to learn and experience about this topic but I don't want to sit here in this comfortable life and do nothing about it. I'm probably jumping the gun but I want to do something now. I'm just not quite sure what.

11:59AM Wed, Apr. 13
From: Me

A Blog Post of Bad Decisions

My friend, Jericho, and I are sitting around our normal round table in the dwelling of  the Courtyard Cafe. A normal occurrence of ours. Another normal occurrence is being  kicked out of the Campus Center at midnight. I pity the people who stay here attempting  to get some homework done, because we talk way to loud and laugh obnoxiously, actually  that's only me.  


Sometimes Josh Plattner decides to grace us with his divine presence. As I speak this  Jericho makes a puppy whimper noise along with "awww Josh". You can tell how his presence  tonight is deeply missed, pouty lips follow. Jericho and I have sent texts to our divine  guide and he is not responding, so we have deducted that he must be off making out with  someone *cough cough* oh sorry, a little phlegm there. But enough talking about Josh. Let  us move on to out main  topic conversation. Gay Vampires. 


 That is right ladies and gentlemen. Gay Vampires, and it gets better. Gay Vampires in  love with Jesus Christ.

 "I wanted Jesus. That's how it started. Yes, the Jesus they built a religion on, the one  they say rose from the dead." 

Yes, I was being serious. There is a novel called Vampire Vow by Micheal Schiefelbein. (I  will give a cookie to anyone who can correctly pronounce that because I sure as hell  can't.) So the novel is about the Victor Decimus who is a Roman Solider during the time of Jesus Christ. But Jesus doesn't return his affection so to spite him and Christianity Victor becomes a Vampire. It's actually quite interesting. I read an excerpt of the novel an amazon and I was actually quite impressed. As an avid reader or trashy romance novels I know when the writing is just trashy romance writing or when it has some substance behind it....actually I take that back it's just a trashy romance novel.

" "Forbidden to whom?" I asked. I could hear him weakening, see him eyeing my strong calves, my bulky thighs. It was hot and I had thrown off my tunic off to tempt him. Nature had given me a square jaw, a cleft chin, a dark mane, eyes that could bring a vestal virgin to her knees -- and a cock that could keep her there."

Mhmmmm anyone else turned on by that? hmmzzz? Nope, okay so no one is turned on by that. But it was hilarious to read. Though I do have a question....how in the world did this book get published? Could you imagine pitching this book to a publisher?

You: Soooo I have this book.
Publisher: Mhmm-hmmm?
You: Yep I think you'll enjoy this one. It's a vampire romance novel, people eat those up today.
Publisher: *nods* mhmm
You: Full of violence, blood lust, hot passionate sex.
Publisher: Keep going
You: He's also in love with Jesus Christ


Yep. That's definitely a one way ticket out of a publisher's office. I'm not sure which is more shocking. The part where the protagonist is in love with Jesus Christ or the part where the protagonist is gay. Or perhaps it is the combination of the two. 


What I also find amusing is that in he novel when it fast forwards Victor is now living in a monastery and falls for Brother Micheal, and attempts to turn him into a vampire. Does anyone else see a connection between the names Brother Micheal and the author Micheal Schiefelbein. We now know the authors deepest fantasies. To be seduced by a vampire who had fallen in love with Jesus Christ and then be turned into a vampire and fight against all odds. Sounds oddly like my fantasy... not at all. 


While on the topic of the author, he is a professor at Memphis Tennessee. Could you imagine being his student and google-ing his name. I feel that it would go something like this. 


Scenario 1
Student: Hmmm since I'm a creepy stalker I will google my professors name. *types away at the computer*   Vampire Vow? What is this? *reads and jaw drops* WHAAAA?? oh my god!! *#@$$#*@%$*&


OR


Scenario 2
Student: Hmmm since I'm a creepy stalker I will google my professors name. *types away at the computer*   Vampire Vow? What is this? *reads and jaw drops* This is so HOT!


I sorta want this guy as my professor. And I'm actually being serious for the first time in this whole post. 


As I ponder more about this novel, I wonder if this would be acceptable for my religion class. In the class The Bible we are reading about Jesus and the gospels. I think this would be a good outside source for a paper. I mean after all the author actually did some priesthood thing. For some odd reason I don't think my religion prof will appreciate this text as much as I do. 
"The reason that Jesus lived and preached in the desert is because he was running away from a Roman Solider that was in love with him."

A+ quality right there. 


I feel that this novel also give you a new approach to coming out. 
you: Guess what? I'm a gay vampire!
person: Really?
You: Weeeell...I'm not a vampire.


And with that I shall leave you my faithful readers.

Coffee shop

Sitting in a wooden chair sideways and leaning against a brick wall. My legs pulled up so my feet reach the end of the seat and hang off while my chin rests on top of my knees. The macroeconomic book is laying carelessly on the table and a glass of vanilla iced americano sits on the table being mixed every five minutes. Live music to drown myself in and friends around to make me laugh.

What more could a person possibly want?

Hour Drive

This spring break has been interesting to say the least. There was a lot of revelations of who am I. Yesterday I took an hour long drive just to get out of the house. I had no idea where I was going all I wanted was an empty road, my car, silence, some low key music, and time to figure things out. I put in some Taylor swift and started to take back county roads to make sure the roads were mostly open. At first I just found myself staring at the scenery just watching it pass by, just like most of the events in my life seemed to pass by. For the middle of spring/winter/weird Minnesota weather it was quite beautiful. There was a bit of green and still a bit of snow. I passed by some farmland, cows, and horses. I drove to the town next over and drove past my boyfriend's old house while attempting to turn back around on the street to get back to my city. I took a back road and took some turns and soon realized I was so deep in thought that I never noticed that I had taken these turns and I was lost for a good twenty minutes just following the road till it spit me out in a familiar place, which was ironically once again the town next door.

I had to figure some things out for myself. I love my parents, I want to say that now before you continue to read. I love my parents and I'm glad for the way they raised me, but we rarely ever see eye to eye. My mother and I got in a fight while I was home during spring break. The fight was over church and how I refused to go to the church my family goes to, I'll go to any other church just not that one. And I have my reasons but my mom wasn't taking that. She threatened to take away my privileges to see people while I was home and my open house for graduation, and I was actually okay with that. That is how much I did not want to see two certain people at my church. Well my dad came upstairs and we had a chit chat ((and he is such a puppy)) in the end he said that he didn't agree with what my mom said and that if I didn't want to go I didn't have to. So of course I didn't go and when my mom came back from church and my dad and I returned from going to the swan park in town I noticed my mothers cold attitude towards me. She refused to talk to me. Obviously I couldn't handle it so I told my father I was going to go to a friend's house and instead I took an hour drive, I didn't mean for it to end up that way but it did.

While driving I thought a lot about my relationship with my mother. My mother and I are extremely alike, which is why we get along great when we're not fighting. Once one of us gets upset the other goes off also. We fight head on when we disagree. I always thought we were the same, and that scared me. I love my mother, but I never want to be like her when I'm a parent. That's my biggest fear, I never want to be my parents. I'm not saying this because they were horrible parents, because to be completely honest they weren't. They were just fundamental Christians and raised their children as such, but I want to raise my children to be open minded, and not be conventional and normal like everyone else. I always feared that in the end I would act the same way my mother did and be a clone copy of her parenting. But while I was driving in that hour I realized that I am nothing like my mother. I don't use anger and threatening to get my way. I'm not closed minded, I'm extremely open minded. I care about people and social justice more than she ever has. I won't use a person's greatest weakness against them. I also try to understand where another person is coming from and actually listen.

I know I just made my mom sound like a horrible person, but she's not. She's extremely loving. But she has flaws, all of us do. I don't think she does any of that intentionally, at least I hope she doesn't. I give her the benefit of the doubt because if I did any of those things it wouldn't be intentionally.

My mom and I are finally talking again during break. There's still a bit of tension but we're getting over it. I'm just glad that I had the chance to figure some things out during spring break and to realize that one of my greatest fears isn't a fear of mine anymore.

Concerts

You've got to love them.

You know why?

Because you're so packed in tightly that you're un-intentionality having sex with everyone around you and it's perfectly fine.I think the most interesting about concerts is that in real life no one would want someone that close to them, and all up on their personal space. But once you add a band, lights, big security guys, and a gate everyone is packing in as close as possible.

LOVE CONCERTS!

Especially Friday night's concert! Because who cares that the bands actually don't sound that good, and you can't understand a single thing they say because you go for the experience of sweaty bodies and shoving elbows. WHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

I know that sounded really sarcastic, but it wasn't I actually meant it. I love concerts. I use to go to them all the time. Unfortunately I am now a broke college student who is way to busy and doesn't have the time or the money to go to them anymore. ((insert sad face here))

I inserted a sad face for you. 

Friday night I went to see Pierce the Veil, We came as Romans, Bring Me The Horizon, and A Day To Remember and it was EPIC!!!!! Oh and it was also held at epic entertainment how ironic. So even if you don't care I'm going to give you a quick synopsis of that night.

First I got lost in Minneapolis, which is not a shock at all. Seeing that I've never driven in Minneapolis by myself. It was quite terrifying but exciting at the same time. All the one way streets were confusing me. So I got onto this really sketchy looking parking ramp and parked there making sure to use the stairs to get to ground level, because taking the elevator is stupid you have nowhere to run if you need to. So then I get outside and I'm lost, I have no idea where 5th street is. I see that I'm on the corner of forth and I do an ennie meanie minnie moe thing and decide to take a left and hope that that's fifth street. So while I'm walking by myself obviously having no idea where I'm going I see this group of teenagers and I go up to them and ask if they know where 5th street is. Turns out they were going to the concert also so I just tagged along and we found the venue. So then we get in this line to find out that the line is 18+ and you need an ID. Wellllllll obviously I'm not 18 and even if I was I didn't have my ID on me ((I left it in the car)). Thankfully the people I was with didn't have their ID so we walked to the other end where the line was for people who are under 18 or just don't have their ID and you round the corner and your jaw just drops. The line stretches all the way around the block and it's about eight people wide. And while walking along I hear someone say my name and I see two friends from my school towards the front of the line, so we just jump in. We still had to wait for about an hour till we got in. Once we got in I found my way to the front. It's kinda shocking actually. I thought it'd take me awhile but nope, during the first band I found my way to the front and stayed in the front for the whole concert. I was around the coolest people also. This is what I love about concerts either you meet the coolest people or the bitchiest people ever. Thankfully this time I had awesome people who talked to me. What's also awesome about concerts is you get to know a lot about the people around you in four hours because you have no where else to go and they're constantly pushed up right besides you.

The bands were great. Loved them all, of course I loved A Day To Remember the best because they're the main reason why I went to the concert. They had confetti, and threw toilet paper and beach balls, and my favorite was when the lead singer Jeremy got into this human sized hamster ball that was filled with air and ran over the crowd in it. It was pretty awesome. I have pictures but unfortunately I left my camera chord at school so I'll have to load them after break.

On the note of people being on top of the crowd there was a lot of crowd surfing. I've crowd surfed five times in my life time and I  LOVE it. The feeling is absolutely amazing but I'm always scared they're gonna drop me. Thankfully I'm a girl, and girls normally don't get dropped, the guys normally get dropped. ((It's an observation I've noticed when I go to concerts.)) I would have crowd surfed but I didn't think it was worth losing my spot in the front and I'm glad I didn't because I had the best view of the bands and it was AWESOME.

So there is a short account of my night. The only two events I'm leaving out is I ran into a girl I worked with randomly which is awesome. ((Love her)) Oh and I saw a cat fight! It was pretty hilarious. In the front they had the normal bear cage and then moveable railings to keep people out and the next thing I know is to my right this girl gets shoved out of the crowd and through the gap between the cage and the railing and the security guard in the front makes her walk to the side to get out of the gap and she goes around to literally claw at the girl who had pushed her out and the security guard has to break up this fight. Then the girl's friend ((the one who had gotten pushed out)) got pushed out also. It was an altercation that lasted maybe a minute not even and it was so funny to watch. I know I explained that horribly, but it's a you had to be there thing. 

So I think I got everything covered...

Forgiveness

I never thought I had a problem with forgiveness, but now that I think back upon it I realize that I haven't been as forgiving as I've always believed. Forgiveness was a hard lesson for me, like it is for many people. I'm a trusting person I easily believe and trust in people always finding the good in them. This is a quality that I love about myself, but it also means that I'm prone to get hurt. And no matter what a person did to hurt me, no matter how much they broke me down I was always there for them in their time of need. I always thought that was the equivalent of forgiveness. I would tell the person that I forgave them and I would be there when they needed me. But the truth was I never forgave them. In the short run, yes I forgave them. I set their transgressions aside. But in the long run I carried that hurt with me. I would bring it up at times to rant about, to bring myself down ((as pathetic as that sounds)), or to remind myself of the past so I don't make the same mistakes. But that isn't forgiveness. Forgiveness it letting it go, once and for all. That sounds a lot more simple than it actually is.

When someone hurts you deeply you never forget it. We are humans, we have flaws in our character and that's one of them. Most of the time you don't forget those deep scars because that is something that shaped you into the person you are today. True forgiveness takes time with those deep emotional scars. You can tell that person you forgive them but it's not going to be till years later that you'll reach true forgiveness.

I define true forgiveness by letting it go. What I mean by that is you forgive the person, whether you tell them or not is up to you. The real aspect of forgiveness is you cannot bring up the injustice towards you in negative ways. You cannot bring up that emotional scar to be angry about or to make yourself feel bad. If you're bringing up that situation then you haven't truly forgiven that person because you still have negative feelings that will eat you from the inside out. You know you have reached forgiveness when you can look back on the event as something that made you stronger, and make something positive out of what happened.

I'm not saying that this is easy, it's not. Forgiveness is something I struggle with all the time. A lot of things that happened to me took years to heal. All the hurt from elementary school and middle school I can finally look back on and feel no negative or angry feelings and I can finally say those events made me stronger. It took me 4+ years to finally be able to say that and truly mean it.

The thing that inspired me to write this post was my issue with the church and religion. If you read my blog entry called churches,whistles,and cancellations, you'll see some of the things the church had done to me. Obviously you can tell I haven't truly forgiven the church and religion for the ways they hurt me. But I'm working on forgiving them. And I need to stop bringing up what happened to me so I can use that as a reason to be mad at religion, my family, the church I go to. It's hard, it's extremely hard, but harboring those feelings only started to eat away at me from the inside, and not in a good way. It's not going to be an easy journey, I know that, the pain is still fresh and the wound is just healing. But hopefully I'll be able to stitch up that wound and hurry the process along by forcing myself not to bring up what happened in negative ways. I hope that reading this entry has made you think of something that you need to forgive, and hopefully helps you in some sort of way.

"True forgiveness is not an action after the fact, it is an attitude with which you enter each moment." - David Ridge

Frustration

Why is it when you're frustrated all you want to do is cry...or maybe that's just me. I hope it's not just me because then I'm an emotional mess, and I like to think I'm pretty emotionally stable. Today has been a good day but there's these moments today where I felt my eyes tearing up and all I wanted to do was let them loose perhaps with angry ranting and swear words. I probably looked like these following people;

Note the swear words and the needed cup of coffee in the photo's above. 

So what made me almost cry today?
Well my frustration started with realizing that my prospective student had taken my cell phone charger when she had packed up to go home. Which means guess who's cell phone less? Yep me. You never notice how much that bothers you until you don't have a cell phone. The reason I needed my cell phone was because my dad was going to come down to change cars with me because my car has a dead battery, but without a cell phone how was he suppose to tell me he was down here? Well he didn't come because Minnesota decided that March 23rd was a great day for a snow day so he's coming down tomorrow. And I just keep staring at my phone hoping that with my jedi mind tricks someone might call me on my room phone. Though only two people have my room phone number and that would be my mother and my boyfriend, either would be an amazing call. I think it's because I have so much to rant about I just want to talk to someone, so it might be a good thing they're not calling me because all they'll get is a very angry Beka. And that's not a good Beka.

So in the middle of my day I went to my macroeconomics class and my teacher gave us this worksheet. Which I stared at for five minutes before even bothering to pick up my pen. I've never took economics in highschool so taking it in college just sucks. Anyway we're on this chapter which has a bunch of math problems and I've been so focused on my Bible class I haven't kept up with the reading. I can't learn stuff through a lecture, I need to be able to read the chapter and understand it, my notes from the lecture just reinforces that learning. But I haven't been able to sit down with the chapters yet so I have no idea what is going on. So I started trying to figure it out because sitting there is not being productive and I feel my eyes tearing up. I don't want to cry, all I want to do is figure out those damn problems and have them make sense. So I'm hanging my head making sure my bangs are falling in my face so no one else can see this pathetic show and Charlie looks over and asks if I'm okay? Which just makes me feel worse because first he caught me, and second because all I'm going to do is slow him down because he gets this stuff and he'll have to take time to help me. Which in all honestly isn't going to help because I haven't had time to figure this stuff out. So I shake my head and tell him to continue on, which of course he doesn't listen to me! which is actually more frustrating because I don't want to bring him down with me. But I let him help because he's determined to help. So he's helping me and we are just finishing up problem one when the teacher comes around and asks where we are and I'm just like, really, really world? You must hate me. And my prof tells me that I should be farther and I just want to growl and tell him to leave but I don't I just listen as he hands me back my paper and I continue on attempting to do the homework assignment I don't understand. 

And than I go back to my room after class today and take a seven hour nap ((Which feels like I didn't sleep at all because I think I'm getting sick)) And when I wake up I go to find my wallet, and it's missing. I just ordered domino pizza last night, I was holding my wallet in my hand, and now my wallet is gone and I have no idea where it went. And I just want to scream and cry and rant, but that's no productive. So i tried being productive, I searched under my bed, in my bed, on the desk, on the shelf, in my drawers, on top of my closet, in my purses, etc. And nothing! It's just gone and I try to tell myself not to worry but in two days I need to drive home for spring break and in a week I'm going to Florida so I need my ID and without my wallet I don't have an idea. And I just want to cry once again. I still haven't found my wallet, I have given up and just hope that within the next two days it shows up otherwise I'm screwed.

I hate the helpless feeling of losing things or not understanding. It frustrates me probably because in that moment there's nothing you can do about it. You're absolutely helpless, you can try to be productive and plug ahead but that really isn't going to help your situation. When I'm frustrated I try no to scream, rant, swear, and cry I try to figure it out, or search for something calmly but that never works. Probably because I'm human and emotions override logic even though we hate it.

So I'm just going to go to bed and hope that tomorrow is better and that I find my missing wallet, because right now that's the most pressing concern.

Angels

"And I'm feeling lost like a half-winged Angel"

"That could be in heaven but can't fly so high"

"I know this is common we all live the danger

Of realizing we've slept away most of our lives"

- Half-Winged Angel by Ellis

Age is Beauty

I'm not sure I agree with that statement. To me age has always been a crutch not something beautiful. Something to be used against me not to build me up. I have a huge problem with my age, and I probably will until I'm like forty or something. Maybe even then.

You have to understand I'm young. Like super young. Like seventeen in college young. It kills me a little on the inside to even write that. A lot of people say oh it's amazing that you got into college so young and you should be proud of that. But I'm not. On the other hand a lot of people say, wow you're young and look down on me for it. I don't know about you, but constantly knowing that the people you go to school with are two to five years older then you is not something you forget, ever.

Sometimes I feel like if you know how young I am you're going to look down on me more, think of me as less of a person. It's not rational at all but I constantly feel like that. Think that oh you're so young that you don't know how the world works, or you can't make a difference, or you're still a minor according to the law. When people ask how old I am I cringe, I tell them the truth because I can't lie. There's that moment of shock followed by the "oh." or "I never knew that" or "I wouldn't have guessed that" well you might not have known but everyday I know and I feel that people judge me about it, that just by looking at me they can figure it out. Then there's the people that when I tell they say "Oh wow you're so young" and then they NEVER let me forget it. They keep bringing it up all the time. I already I have a constant reminder voice in my head, I don't need you to constantly remind me also. There was one girl this year that every time I saw her she brought it up. Always brought up that I was a freshmen, and the youngest freshmen at that. But she was in my position last year who is she to judge me on my age? 

Sometimes there are those moments where I honestly don't think I'm seventeen. It's not like I forget, because you never forget something like that, it's more like I've experienced so many things that most people don't when they're seventeen. I'm not saying I know everything, trust me I know nothing, I crave to know more. But those moments where I'm sure I'm more mature then my age. And those are probably my best moments. And then there are those moments when I fuck up. When I say something I shouldn't, or I act extremely immature. Not like the oh-I'm-going-to-act-immature-to-be-funny, more like the oh crap I shouldn't have said that or done that. And yeah when those moments happen most people forget about them but I don't. And then there are those people who remember those moments and blame it on the fact that I'm only seventeen or I'm only a first year in college. 

My favorite are my parents. Especially now that second semester is halfway done and then I'm going to live with them for three months again. I'm already planning things for this summer and when I told my mom about them she was like, you're seventeen you're still a minor. That's not fair, I'm seventeen legally but I've been away for a whole school year, I'm going to be a sophmore in college next year. What's you're excuse going to be then? I understand she means well and she's just trying to protect me. I also understand that during those three months I will be living under their roof and will have to abide by those rules no matter how old I am, but using my age against me is just...it kinda hurts. Maybe it's because I don't have a good image about my age, if you had told me you can't do that because I will be living under your roof then I'd be fine about that, but instead you pick my greatest weakness...my age. 

And I know when you read this blog you're most likely thinking 'you're seventeen you still have the world ahead of you. And eventually you'll be comfortable in you're own age.', but I don't think so. Maybe it's because I'm constantly looking forward to tomorrow, what I'll be doing in the next five years that I just want time to go by faster. My brain is in this time period years ahead of the year that I'm living in that moment. I don't know if that's a good thing or not, maybe I have to start living in the moment but that's a blog for a different day.

At the same time I don't want to be in my forties and be saying I wish I was younger, I wish I had the time to appreciate my youth and I wasn't so focused on being older and hating the fact that I was young. 

 My age is something that I'm working on accepting as weird as that sounds. It's a part of me and I need to embrace it. Mark Twain once said;

"Age is an issue of mind over matter; If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."

To me my age matters and I have to start to let that go. 

Feeling Free

So I suppose you all want to know what the point of this blog is for me. The thing is that I'm young but I've had the chance to do so many things and to have some many different experiences. I want to live each day of my life without missing a single moment of it. Without going through the motions or going through life with my eyes closed. In order to do that I decided for the rest of the year I'm going to make a conscious effort to find something that inspires me that day. It can be some huge deep thought thing, or it could be something that makes me upset and want to do something, it could even be something that just interested me that day and I felt like blogging about it.


So for today, my inspiration for today was a thousand pound animal between my legs.

Wow that sounded terrible. Bad Beka, bad. But seriously, it's was my horse riding lesson. I take lessons in the town over from my college and I am on the equestrian team at my school. It's all English, for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about I'm sorry and just attempt to follow along. So I take a forty-five minute lesson once a week and that is the thing I look forward to every week, because it's one of the things I enjoy most.

No I don't own any horses, I wish I did though. I live in a suburb area so it's not possible for me to own my horse. I didn't ride before this September, and it's amazing the progress I have made so far. This is something I plan to do for my college career and hopefully longer. I don't care much for showing the horse my favorite thing is riding and just the feeling it gives me . 

So in today's lesson I finally got to canter off the lunge line which just felt amazing. Cantering is the third gait of the horse meaning it uses three legs at a time ((wow I described that horribly)) It looks like this video. The girl started out with a trot then went into a canter, I have no idea what she's saying because I had my sound on mute I just wanted a visual.

Not only did I feel like I achieved something when I was able to do canter the horse without it being on the lunge line and have control was just elevating. Also the feeling when you ride is just indescribable, but I'm going to do my best to describe it. It's like being free. Everything that's going on your life just slips away all that matters is you and the horse. Not only that but both of you are working in sync. It's liberating, and amazing, and smooth, and wonderful and I love it. Not only did I get to canter but I got to do a little bit of jumping over really low posts. I didn't expect to be jumping at least till I was riding for a year but here I am not even six months later learning to jump. And when the horse jumps jumps at the right speed, the right time, and you're in the right posture, and you're body is in sync with the horse it feels like you're flying.

So the question is that how does this inspire me? Well obviously that feeling of freedom is a huge inspiration in my life. I also love the fact that no matter how my day is going, or what is going on in my life I have this time where I just slip away and all that matters is that moment, and what I'm doing in that moment. It's a reality check, every time I leave the barn I think about that feeling of liberation and the way that whatever was bothering me isn't bothering me anymore. Sometimes it's nice to have a break from life

Horseback riding is my drug, ((Which is actually proven in a scientific study but that's a topic for a different day)) It's the best day of my week, and I can't wait for my next lesson to improve more. 

Whistles, Churches, Cancellations

Do not follow where the path may lead. Go, instead, where there is no path and leave a trail.-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Today has been pretty crappy. I should revise that sentence, tonight has been pretty crappy. Today was great until about six o'clock. Three separate events happened one after another. Originally I wanted this blog to be about what inspires me for that day, and what makes me a better person but I feel that this is important to write even though it is only ranting. So if you don't want to read ranting then I suggest reading another entry or clicking next.

On a normal day I would have been able to handle all these events without a problem. But I was being a female and just emotionally unstable and they just piled up and I just exploded. Not only that but I picked at them and found reason to dislike them even more.

The first thing that set me off was a rape whistle. Because of the assaults that happened on our campus, our campus bought whistles and put them out for people to grab in case they ever get assaulted.

On a Normal Day: I wouldn't really mind this. I would think that it was awesome that our campus was this invested in our safety. The whistles are really shiny and that would distract me for a while, plus I'd have the urge to use them but not really because they're emergency only whistles, that would be a little awkward if I tested it out and people came to help him.

Today: I was pissed off. What kind of world do we live in that I have to have a whistle on my lanyard incase someone decided to jump out of the shadows and assault me. It's dumb that we (women especially) have to watch our backs all the time, we can't leave drinks empty because people will slip things into them. Whenever you walk alone at night you're constantly looking over your shoulder because they're creeps out there that don't give a damn that you are a human being and that they will hurt you all they care about is their own pleasure. ((Insert the rest of the feminist rant here))

The second thing of today was Churches. A highschool in Oakdale is putting on the Laramie Project. For those of you who don't know what the Laramie Project is I shall give you a little background, for those of you do congratulations but you're still going to have to read this background story. The Laramie Project is a theatre group that went down to Laramie Wyoming to interview people of Laramie about the murder of Matthew Shepard. Matthew was a homosexual male who was beaten and tied to a fence post and left for dead. The story caught national headlines. The theatre group did many interviews about the aftermath of the death and wrote a play based on the 200+ interviews. So this highschool is putting on this play. And then the Waboro baptist church puts on their website that they are going to protest at this play along with other conservative churches around the area. They are boycotting the play and telling students who go to that school not to support the other students in the play!

On a Normal Day: I would be a little upset by this story. But find it awesome that so many people are supporting this school and the students who are doing this play. Most of the students of that school are outraged and going to support the play. I would attempt to get a ticket and go to the play to support those awesome students.

Today: I was pissed. What right does that church have to come and protest! It's not like the play is saying that homosexuality is A-OK and let's just have gay sex everywhere. It's talking about murder people! But obviously these churches think that the fact that Matthew Shepard was gay is much worse than the fact that he was beaten and murdered. Not only that but churches are annoying. I have many bad experiences with churches because of the issue of homosexuality and the fact that I don't agree with them. I've got kicked off a worship team, told that they couldn't help me unless I decided to change my lifestyle. Had my parents called in for a meeting with the elders, had the youth pastor talk to me. Then I went to a different church, someone said in that church that if you're gay you shouldn't be coming here. They wanted to kick me out of the youth group. They wanted to have a sermon solely on homosexuality and how it's a sin. They sent a CD to my parents about an ex-gay behind my back. And so much more, that's just a few things. Basically these things have messed me up for life. I'm no longer comfortable walking into churches, I don't dislike Christianity as a religion I dislike the people who follow it. I could go on forever. The bottom line is all those memories came back and began to pile on and just weigh me down. I don't know why I remember them, maybe I'm a masochist and I like feeling the emotional pain and self pity. Maybe it's so I never forget the grudge I have against the church. Or maybe it's because I know these events made me a stronger person and shaped me into the person I am and proud to be, and forgetting seems to forget who I am and what I stand for.

The third event is that this play I'm in called The Raft Of the Medusa got canceled. This play was about people who have HIV/AIDS and are dying. It's extremely powerful and I suggest people to read it ((Though watching it is far easier to understand)) It was amazing. I worked with the most amazing people and I had so much fun. It made me more aware of the fight against HIV/AIDS. I knew about it before, but being in this play just brought it home. The play was canceled because people dropped out, showed up late or didn't show for practices. So not enough commitment though there were a number of people committed and that was awesome.

On a Normal Day: I would be able to say okay. I'm sad to see it go, but if no one is committed to being in it then we gave it our best shot and it didn't work. I'm glad to have the chance to be in and learn more. I wish I could be superman and pull this thing together but that's the way life roles.

Today: Just more upset. I've been looking forward to this all semester and I really wanted to do it. A lot of other people were disappointed and hurt, the student who was directing it sounded extremely disappointed/devastated. I'm extremely sad to see it go.

So that was my crappy night in a nutshell. It feels a lot better to just write about it and let it all out.

Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.-Harvey Fierstein