There are a lot of times in my life when I just sit back and observe...well...life itself. I always feel like I'm outside a window, just looking in at the event taking place. I guess it doesn't just have to be an event, but whatever happens to be going on at the time. My feelings and emotions don't take any precedence over what's happening...I have no opinions, really. I'm just watching.
For instance, the biggest thing that's happened lately to me is I got to go to my first concert. Exciting, right? My friend April and I went to a Lady Gaga concert. What an experience! It was great! Looking back on it now I can say for sure that it was so fun and exciting and fascinating. While I was there, however, none of these emotions really surfaced. Don't get me wrong, I had tons of fun at the time, but I guess I just took it all in. As April and I made our way through the crowd, I noticed all the extremes Gaga fans took to show their...loyalty, for lack of a better word, to the singer. There were girls dressed similarly to how she dresses out in public as well as on her tours. Aluminum cans rolled in the hair like curlers, bathing suits over fishnet stockings, there was even a girl we noticed on the way out of the concert that was just walking down the street in nothing but short shorts, suspenders, and pasties. (Crazy, I know...especially since it was cold that night!) I took in the opening band, Semi-Precious Weapons...how they acted, how they sounded, what they did on stage. When the main event came on, it wasn't exactly what I expected. I figured a concert would be singing (duh!) and maybe some talking here and there, you know, stories from the road, little comments. No, it was a production. I guess I shouldn't have expected any less from Lady Gaga. But it was like a musical, as weird as that sounds. There was a script, and Gaga's music coinsided with each scene. It was truly a show!
What made me think of this blog entry is the fact that I have DVR'd the show "Sister Wives" that comes on TLC. I just finished watching the first episode. It was...interesting. I use that word a lot for descriptions, I know. I can think of no other word. For those of you that don't know about it or don't care to watch it, it has introduced the world to a polygamist Mormon family in Utah. A man, Kody, has three wives and 12 going on 13 children. At the end of the first episode, he has announced to his entire family that he is considering marrying again. There are many people that would immediately say this is not right. Polygamy is just a way for a man to get some more action once he's done with one wife. That he doesn't or can't possibly care for his entire family and that the children and/or wives will be left out. Watching this show, however, I can see that none of this is true. Now, I know Hollywood can twist things and show you only what it wants you to see. But what I saw was love. The wives all loved each other, were best friends. The children all got along well. And Kody, the leading man...he loves each and every member of his family. You can see it in his eyes, how he acts, how he speaks. He has made schedules to be sure that NO ONE gets left out.
It's such a controversial issue...as controversial as homosexuality/bisexuality. As controversial as (to some people) interracial relationships or even as far as relationships where two people are from different religious backgrounds. Who are we to say what is right or wrong with how other people live? If people love each other, then what's the issue? It's their life, let them live it. Who is the government to say people can't live their lives?
I guess when I said earlier that I don't really have an opinion on certain goings-on, that's not entirely true. What I was trying to say is that I'm neither for nor against certain issues. And this is where I get in trouble with people. I have made people mad/frustrated with me in the past because of my views on life. I say let people live their lives. If it makes them happy, then it is right. Just because someone else says you shouldn't live your life a certain way, doesn't mean their right and your wrong. I have homosexual/bisexual friends. I don't have any polygamist friends (at least none I know of), but if I did, I'd support them. I do have friends in interracial relationships. I have friends in interreligious (a word?) relationships. I love them and support them all. They are all happy. THAT'S what matters. This is the 21st century, people. Get off your high horses and look around you. If you don't like how something is, get over it! Just because you feel that way doesn't mean it's not right.
And my entry just spiralled WAY out of control! I just had to get it out, though. There are so many hypocrites out there that say don't judge people, and yet who is the first to judge? Them! I'm not perfect...nor do I wish to be. I try not to judge, but I'll admit that I even do it myself at times before I can catch myself and be that outsider looking in the window.
SIDE NOTE: (I know, the majority of this blog seemed to have nothing to do with the Lady Gaga concert. I mainly put that in there to let people know how I liked it, since I never reported in on it! But in a way, it did have a lot to do with it, as Gaga's message that night was not to judge people just because their lifestyle is different from yours.)
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
And They Say...She's so Lucky
Something happened tonight that made me stop for a moment, but then after I thought about it a bit, a smile spread across my face from ear to ear. Well, not really from ear to ear, because my lips don't go that far, and if they did then I'd have a really big mouth, but I digress...
I was walking in Walmart tonight, heading back up front to the checkout, when a party of three girls were walking towards me. Now, I was clad in flip-flops, jeans, and a T-shirt that had the word "Lucky" written across it. The girls were each dressed in a not-so-wide range of grunge-punk-chic of torn off Daisy Duke shorts with half their butts hanging out and torn '80's-style T-shirts that were off the shoulder. Lots of make-up and chunky, cheap costume jewelry finished off their "style." I tell you this because as I'm walking by them, minding my own business, I happen to hear one of them say none-too-softly and rather scoffingly to her friends, "Yeah, she's REAL lucky."
At first, I was appalled. What the heck?! What makes you think that you know me enough to think otherwise? What was it about my appearance that made them think they were any better than me? Look at what they were wearing! Look at how they acted! What gave them the right to judge me?
After all that rushed through my brain in about half a second, I had a different thought process. You know what...I AM real lucky. I have a huge loving family that would support me with just about anything (I think they may cut the line at murder and grand larceny and the like). I have two of the absolute BEST parents in the world who have molded me into who I am today, teaching me good morals to live by and showing me in everything they have done just how much they love me. Four older brothers who have been, are, and will be there for me (physically, emotionally, spiritually...all the "ally"s) whenever I need them. I have a loving husband who...well...loves me and is my rock and best friend. I have friends around me. I have a decent job and one on the side to help with extra money (which, let's face it...in this economy people have to take what they can get...IF they can get it!). Mike and I are financially sound enough to own our own home. I have food in my belly and clothes on my back.
Lucky? Oh, no. I'm not lucky. I am truly blessed!
I was walking in Walmart tonight, heading back up front to the checkout, when a party of three girls were walking towards me. Now, I was clad in flip-flops, jeans, and a T-shirt that had the word "Lucky" written across it. The girls were each dressed in a not-so-wide range of grunge-punk-chic of torn off Daisy Duke shorts with half their butts hanging out and torn '80's-style T-shirts that were off the shoulder. Lots of make-up and chunky, cheap costume jewelry finished off their "style." I tell you this because as I'm walking by them, minding my own business, I happen to hear one of them say none-too-softly and rather scoffingly to her friends, "Yeah, she's REAL lucky."
At first, I was appalled. What the heck?! What makes you think that you know me enough to think otherwise? What was it about my appearance that made them think they were any better than me? Look at what they were wearing! Look at how they acted! What gave them the right to judge me?
After all that rushed through my brain in about half a second, I had a different thought process. You know what...I AM real lucky. I have a huge loving family that would support me with just about anything (I think they may cut the line at murder and grand larceny and the like). I have two of the absolute BEST parents in the world who have molded me into who I am today, teaching me good morals to live by and showing me in everything they have done just how much they love me. Four older brothers who have been, are, and will be there for me (physically, emotionally, spiritually...all the "ally"s) whenever I need them. I have a loving husband who...well...loves me and is my rock and best friend. I have friends around me. I have a decent job and one on the side to help with extra money (which, let's face it...in this economy people have to take what they can get...IF they can get it!). Mike and I are financially sound enough to own our own home. I have food in my belly and clothes on my back.
Lucky? Oh, no. I'm not lucky. I am truly blessed!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Something to Talk About
Legends...fairy tales...rumors...superstitions...fables...
How do these things come to be? Obviously they start with rumors, but how do rumors start? It's like when you used to play the game Telephone as a kid. Everyone sits in a line or a circle and one person starts off with a phrase. By the end of the chain, the phrase is NOTHING like the beginning. So how do these things get started? One person sees one thing, so they decide to pass it on. The next person then adds a bit of their own embellishment, no matter how minor. Then the next adds on to that, maybe leaves out a few things they think have no relation to core story, and so on and so forth. Some happen to be embellished so extraordinarily they turn into fairy tales.
So where do the tales of Sleepy Hollow or urban legends like someone taking a kidney without the person knowing about it come to be so well known? What was the original story that led to such an explosion of literary debate come to be? Are these tales true? False? Is there any basis to them?
I'm the type of person that likes the history behind things. I never liked history in school (though I did well at it), but things like this interest me. Stories, sayings...for example, the other day Jimmy and I were at the bar for karaoke. One of us made a comment about making biscuits from scratch. I was wondering where the phrase "made from scratch" came from. So Jimmy proceeded to whip out his handy Droid and looked it up. It actually originally comes from a sports term. In ancient times, one would draw a line in the dirt...a scratch, if you will...as a starting point. Over the years, it somehow switched to a cooking term, meaning to start from the beginning, no boxes or mixes.
So in a world that practically relies on heresay and gossip, how do we know what is true, what is real?
How do these things come to be? Obviously they start with rumors, but how do rumors start? It's like when you used to play the game Telephone as a kid. Everyone sits in a line or a circle and one person starts off with a phrase. By the end of the chain, the phrase is NOTHING like the beginning. So how do these things get started? One person sees one thing, so they decide to pass it on. The next person then adds a bit of their own embellishment, no matter how minor. Then the next adds on to that, maybe leaves out a few things they think have no relation to core story, and so on and so forth. Some happen to be embellished so extraordinarily they turn into fairy tales.
So where do the tales of Sleepy Hollow or urban legends like someone taking a kidney without the person knowing about it come to be so well known? What was the original story that led to such an explosion of literary debate come to be? Are these tales true? False? Is there any basis to them?
I'm the type of person that likes the history behind things. I never liked history in school (though I did well at it), but things like this interest me. Stories, sayings...for example, the other day Jimmy and I were at the bar for karaoke. One of us made a comment about making biscuits from scratch. I was wondering where the phrase "made from scratch" came from. So Jimmy proceeded to whip out his handy Droid and looked it up. It actually originally comes from a sports term. In ancient times, one would draw a line in the dirt...a scratch, if you will...as a starting point. Over the years, it somehow switched to a cooking term, meaning to start from the beginning, no boxes or mixes.
So in a world that practically relies on heresay and gossip, how do we know what is true, what is real?
Monday, August 23, 2010
Percussion...Strings...Winds...Words...
I love nights like tonight. It's cool (both temperature and just the overall feeling of the moment). Because of this, I have turned the AC off and have the windows open in my bedroom. The crickets are singing. Birds are saying their goodnights throughout the neighborhood. I know it's birds because there's a nest in the crepe myrtle just outside the window, so when the bird there is saying her goodnights, it's quite loud!
But growing up in the country, I have grown to love the sounds of nature. There's such a peacefulness (?) to it...it's very relaxing. The crickets are probably my favorite, though. The harmony of it. Unfortunately, living in town you can't hear all the animal noises I've grown to love...the occassional turkey in the distance, the laughter of the foxes, the screaming of the bobcats (even if the last two are kinda creepy sounds when you hear them). It's all so beautiful. I can't even describe it on here. It's something you have to experience yourself.
But growing up in the country, I have grown to love the sounds of nature. There's such a peacefulness (?) to it...it's very relaxing. The crickets are probably my favorite, though. The harmony of it. Unfortunately, living in town you can't hear all the animal noises I've grown to love...the occassional turkey in the distance, the laughter of the foxes, the screaming of the bobcats (even if the last two are kinda creepy sounds when you hear them). It's all so beautiful. I can't even describe it on here. It's something you have to experience yourself.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Technology Rocks!
And I'm back! I know, I was never really missing, right? I'm just letting ya'll know that Mike and I not only have a nice new laptop, but we have internet at home as well. Look at us gettin' all high-tech. We've come a long way from smoke signals or Morse Code!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Heron and the Otter Are My Friends...
I should have been a Tibetan monk or something.
Great statement to start out with, right? Well, I was just thinking about it yesterday when I did something that most people would be appalled at. I saved a spider. Yes, a SPIDER! I was at work, grooming a dog, when one of my coworkers came to my room and asked me to kill a huge spider that was next to the oxygen tank in the surgery room. I went in there to look at it. I'm not sure what kind of spider it is, but it was huge and I've seen that kind at work before...up close and personal, in fact, when one landed on my arm. As I've stated, it was HUGE, at least for spiders around here. It's legs spanning probably about as far as a soda can top or longer. He was just crouched in the corner, not moving. He was too cool to kill, though, in my opinion. I don't know why I think that. Because of his size and markings, I just couldn't kill him because he was so interesting. So I went into the kennel to grab a container. When I came back, my coworker--who, by the way, was peeking around the corner tentatively the entire time I studied the spider--saw the container and her eyes just about bugged out of her head. "You're saving it?!" she asked, incredulously. "Yep!" I replied as I scooped him into the lidded container. I then carried him outside and let him free out by one of the bushes.
I'm weird like that, I guess. I don't like killing things. I don't disagree with killing things. I have no qualms with hunters and the like. I just personally can't kill something. I don't even like watching the killing process, whether it be the hunting, or euthanasia, or meat processing plants (we had to watch a video of one in vet tech lab in college). I've watched my dad's hunting videos, and I'm okay with it, but I guess that's because normally they don't show the deer dying on camera. Normally, the hunter hits it and then it runs off into the forest and they find it later.
Another thing that brought this thought process up is the fact that I killed a baby bear the other day. Yes, I killed a baby bear. With my car. And yes, my car is fine. But I wasn't. I'm still not very thrilled when I think about it. But like Mike said, it's a wild animal. There's more out there. There's nothing wrong with it. If there's nothing wrong with it, why did I cry the entire way home after the fact?! I don't like killing squirrels or birds with my car. Not even possums, even if they are creepy little creatures. I don't even like killing snakes with my car. Heck, mom and dad will swerve to the other side of the road in order to run over a snake if they see it!
They've taken to getting me at work if there's something, whether it be a snake or a spider. One of the kennel kids was walking dogs last summer when she came in and said there was a huge black snake out on the walkway. Nobody would go outside, but I went. I grabbed a push broom and went out there. It was a big black snake, probably about four feet long. I just stomped at him and used the broom to gently push him away. The animal hospital is up against some woods, so I scared him off in that direction. He's a black snake. He wouldn't have hurt me unless he felt really threatened. Me stomping and pushing him more scared him or even just annoyed him than threatened him.
On a final note of this bizarre confession...I have a praying mantis outside my window at work. There's one there every year. It's obviously a different one, as this year it's smaller than the last couple years. Praying mantises are supposed to be some sort of good luck or good omen or blessing or something, aren't they? Or maybe they just know I have a good heart...
Great statement to start out with, right? Well, I was just thinking about it yesterday when I did something that most people would be appalled at. I saved a spider. Yes, a SPIDER! I was at work, grooming a dog, when one of my coworkers came to my room and asked me to kill a huge spider that was next to the oxygen tank in the surgery room. I went in there to look at it. I'm not sure what kind of spider it is, but it was huge and I've seen that kind at work before...up close and personal, in fact, when one landed on my arm. As I've stated, it was HUGE, at least for spiders around here. It's legs spanning probably about as far as a soda can top or longer. He was just crouched in the corner, not moving. He was too cool to kill, though, in my opinion. I don't know why I think that. Because of his size and markings, I just couldn't kill him because he was so interesting. So I went into the kennel to grab a container. When I came back, my coworker--who, by the way, was peeking around the corner tentatively the entire time I studied the spider--saw the container and her eyes just about bugged out of her head. "You're saving it?!" she asked, incredulously. "Yep!" I replied as I scooped him into the lidded container. I then carried him outside and let him free out by one of the bushes.
I'm weird like that, I guess. I don't like killing things. I don't disagree with killing things. I have no qualms with hunters and the like. I just personally can't kill something. I don't even like watching the killing process, whether it be the hunting, or euthanasia, or meat processing plants (we had to watch a video of one in vet tech lab in college). I've watched my dad's hunting videos, and I'm okay with it, but I guess that's because normally they don't show the deer dying on camera. Normally, the hunter hits it and then it runs off into the forest and they find it later.
Another thing that brought this thought process up is the fact that I killed a baby bear the other day. Yes, I killed a baby bear. With my car. And yes, my car is fine. But I wasn't. I'm still not very thrilled when I think about it. But like Mike said, it's a wild animal. There's more out there. There's nothing wrong with it. If there's nothing wrong with it, why did I cry the entire way home after the fact?! I don't like killing squirrels or birds with my car. Not even possums, even if they are creepy little creatures. I don't even like killing snakes with my car. Heck, mom and dad will swerve to the other side of the road in order to run over a snake if they see it!
They've taken to getting me at work if there's something, whether it be a snake or a spider. One of the kennel kids was walking dogs last summer when she came in and said there was a huge black snake out on the walkway. Nobody would go outside, but I went. I grabbed a push broom and went out there. It was a big black snake, probably about four feet long. I just stomped at him and used the broom to gently push him away. The animal hospital is up against some woods, so I scared him off in that direction. He's a black snake. He wouldn't have hurt me unless he felt really threatened. Me stomping and pushing him more scared him or even just annoyed him than threatened him.
On a final note of this bizarre confession...I have a praying mantis outside my window at work. There's one there every year. It's obviously a different one, as this year it's smaller than the last couple years. Praying mantises are supposed to be some sort of good luck or good omen or blessing or something, aren't they? Or maybe they just know I have a good heart...
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Dream a Little Dream
I have decided to try something different in my life. I've been feeling a little restless lately for some reason, and I haven't known why. I was thinking I needed a new job (we won't discuss that on here!), but it was kinda more than that. I don't really do anything other than work and come home, work and come home. Mike and I would love to travel, but you kinda need some money (and time off) to do that. I have some really cute outfits that I don't get to wear much, if at all, because I have no place to where them. So, I have decided to do a couple things about this.
First thing...I've always wanted to get a booth at the Taste of the Mountains Street Festival on Main Street in Madison. I've been told that I draw very well and was even told I should become an artist (I didn't exactly agree with that point...I'm not that great and I wouldn't make much money). So I was going to send an application this year. Unfortunately, I'm late for the entry as April 15 was the last day. However, that gives me a year to get some pieces done so I can get a booth next year. I figure I'll do pencil drawings, pastel chalks, and possibly some charcoal as well. The last two mediums are especially fun to work with! I'm not very good with painting, but I think I may do some quotes with pictures like I did for my brothers' wedding gifts. I don't know if I'll make any money doing this or not. All-in-all, I just want to see how I'll do...and I'll have fun along the way.
The second thing I'm hoping to do is become a jeweler for Premier Designs. It's a Christian-based company that encourages people to have at-home parties, or even catalog parties, selling high fashion jewelry. I've been to two parties and have hosted one. I figure I can do it on the side on weekends and still keep my grooming job at the animal hospital. And that way, when Mike and I have children, I'll have something I can fall back on if need be and I could work from home. Well, we'll see about that last part. I'm meeting with the woman tonight who was the jeweler at all the parties I went to. This will kill two birds with one stone (poor birds), as it will help me get out of the house (especially when Mike has to work and I'd be home alone anyway), it'll allow me to wear the cute outfits I never can, and it'll also bring in some more income (okay, that's three birds, but I didn't want to think about killing birds...). Many people become very successful at this and end up quitting their original jobs to just sell jewelry. I don't know if that'll happen with me or not, but we'll see if I can even get this baby off the ground first.
So...wish me luck!
First thing...I've always wanted to get a booth at the Taste of the Mountains Street Festival on Main Street in Madison. I've been told that I draw very well and was even told I should become an artist (I didn't exactly agree with that point...I'm not that great and I wouldn't make much money). So I was going to send an application this year. Unfortunately, I'm late for the entry as April 15 was the last day. However, that gives me a year to get some pieces done so I can get a booth next year. I figure I'll do pencil drawings, pastel chalks, and possibly some charcoal as well. The last two mediums are especially fun to work with! I'm not very good with painting, but I think I may do some quotes with pictures like I did for my brothers' wedding gifts. I don't know if I'll make any money doing this or not. All-in-all, I just want to see how I'll do...and I'll have fun along the way.
The second thing I'm hoping to do is become a jeweler for Premier Designs. It's a Christian-based company that encourages people to have at-home parties, or even catalog parties, selling high fashion jewelry. I've been to two parties and have hosted one. I figure I can do it on the side on weekends and still keep my grooming job at the animal hospital. And that way, when Mike and I have children, I'll have something I can fall back on if need be and I could work from home. Well, we'll see about that last part. I'm meeting with the woman tonight who was the jeweler at all the parties I went to. This will kill two birds with one stone (poor birds), as it will help me get out of the house (especially when Mike has to work and I'd be home alone anyway), it'll allow me to wear the cute outfits I never can, and it'll also bring in some more income (okay, that's three birds, but I didn't want to think about killing birds...). Many people become very successful at this and end up quitting their original jobs to just sell jewelry. I don't know if that'll happen with me or not, but we'll see if I can even get this baby off the ground first.
So...wish me luck!
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