random thoughts

I love the Tuscano catalog. There's always neat stuff in there. Some of it's low cost, some of it's expensive, but they do art reproductions too.

So I'm looking through this stuff with my roomie peeking over my shoulder. All I can think about is the very dark and red picture of the an Oracle of Delphi, her hood pulled down so she can just peek from under the hood, sitting on a high chair over a crack. Fumes are wafting up from the crack and she holds an olive branch in one hand.

I dunno, I saw the little devil plushie of Strife's and somehow it made me think of red and fumes.

Regardless, it just makes me reflect on the spiritual wasteland that I live in. I live in the dead center of the bible belt, so those pagans that I find here are either quite happy to practice on their own (thank you very much) or waayyyy too freaky for me to consider even having fellowship with (delusional might be a good word here as well).

Let's just say I approach some things (mainly people) with a healthy amount of skepticism.

I am trying to bide time. I know I won't be here forever, but this place is really not where I'm longing to be. Give me green over this crunchy, yellowed and dead grass any day. I'll trade you cactus for trees any day.

I am restless, but determined. There's stuff to be done here, I'm sure of it.

breaking

I know, I know. I haven't written here in a while.

Things have been hectic. I've been in Houston. I'll be back in Houston in March, but the Houston trip I had was really unplanned and unexpected. In fact, it was only due to the emergency of my father being admitted into the ICU. You can read all about it on my other blog.

Coming home has been a little weird. I don't know if I'm being avoided, but it really seems as if my roommates have not been around much. In fact, one of them has spent every night away from home since I've been here. I know that she's going through her own garbage, but really....sometimes it's nice to feel like you've been missed at least a little. I don't need fanfare or anything. But like the first night I came into town, some other friends stopped by to see me for a bit. The people I live with have been apparently too busy to do so.

About the only nice thing I can say is that I got a new statue. Apparently it's been waiting for me in a shop since I got here. Nobody would buy him and he's more bronze-colored than the one that's in the picture.

I got to drag my stepmother into a pagan bookstore because for some odd reason, she's fascinated by the art of belly-dancing. Which is kind of cool for me, because it gives me an excuse, but it's really kind of odd coming from her. But it looks fun and frankly, I've got to get into some routine. Maybe when she gets back from Houston, we can work towards that. It's something I've always been interested in learning, since I have all the grace of a duck.

Anyway...I'm around.

whistling

I have to get this thought off my chest.

A couple I know are in the process of getting a divorce. More specifically, she wants a divorce, he does not. She filed. He argued. And two weeks thereafter, he asks her for sex. She says know.

Now...logic prevails to me that if she didn't want to be married to him, what would make him think that she wanted sex from him?

So he begins to bang on about how it is her 'martial duty' and that he could take it if he wanted to, regardless of whether or not she agreed, because she married him and it was his right.

HELLO? Ever hear of the word RAPE?

Now, gentlemen, regardless if you are married or not, if you force yourself on someone without their consent, it IS rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. There is no justification you can give me for it. I will not accept anything. You are forcing something on someone against their will. RAPE.

So, of course, what respect I've tried to have for this individual plummeted with an audible whistling noise that probably is akin to the sound of someone falling into an abysmal, bottomless pit.

And he says actions speak louder than words. He hasn't done anything. Not that he didn't imply that threat, but if we're speaking of actions, him hopping on the hood of her car, him stealing her battery to her cell phone, going through everything of hers and then trying to get her to make him food, do his clothes, and clean while she works and sits around and plays on the computer/Diablo all day speaks volumes, doesn't it?

We live here as a tribe. When we moved in, we moved in with a man, woman, and child. Our little group consists of my husband, my two kids, and my best friend that I've known from junior high (yeah....almost 20 years...). It was stated that when we moved in, we were a package deal. The house was big enough, they needed the money for the bills, so everything was kosher.

Three days after we move in, all hell breaks loose. She tells him to 'get out', and it's pretty downhill from there. Well, of recent, he as taken aside my friend and told her she needs to leave and that she have fifteen days to move out.

He called her out of the blue last night, in the middle of the night. She's been paying bills and buying food like the rest of us. He already approached me with the idea, which I shot down. "She goes, then we all go," is what I told him. So about a week later (last night), like a sneak-thief, he tells her she has to leave. On the phone. In the middle of the night when she's not even home (and he's on break at work).

(I can still hear the whistling sound.)

Actually, by telling her to leave, he's violating his restraining order because he is financially encumbering the household/realty. She doesn't want to leave, but is in fear of what he might do to her furry little children. For all the acting out he's done, well, I can't say she's not justified in her thoughts. She can't afford to really be out on her own and leave, but the situation around here is getting tense.

I really wish he'd just go. Not that I wish him harm or that anyone wants to screw him. It's been this way from the onset - trying to get him to go amicably and split up what's in the house that was theirs, have a working relationship which enables them to share joint custody of the child.

He has fought every thing every step of the way.

So now it looks as if it has to get ugly. There's not a lot of help for it. Till then, I'm stuck in this strange and twisted hell that one individual has inflicted upon an entire household. Hopefully things will play out for the best. And if she really DOES go (my friend), well, I'm not long to follow, I'm sure.

I cannot respect a person who wants to lord and master over another. I cannot respect a man who treats a woman (or anyone else for that matter) as if they were property. Or servants to be bossed about. Or children to be punished. I cannot respect a person who tries to flex authority for the mere sake of being able to show clout, causing angst and strife just because they are upset they didn't get their way elsewhere. That archaic, backwoods mentality should have been left behind in the last century, and more the better.

So we will see what happens. Till then, I'm really rather pissed off.

the only light for miles

I live out in the middle of nowhere. I work out in the middle of nowhere. I saw something that made me smile. It was a church. Don't ask me why, I just thought it was both amusing and deeply satisfying. You see, they make signs for tattoo parlours, for nudie bars, for nightclubs and taverns. But you don't ever see a sign like this on a church.

It just struck me as kind of cool. I dunno.

pigs and rocks....pearls and swine

(as taken in actual format from http://www.merriam-webster.com)

Main Entry:

pre·ten·tious
Pronunciation:
..pri-ˈten(t)-shəs..
Function:
adjective
Etymology:
French prétentieux, from prétention pretension, from Medieval Latin pretention-, pretentio, from Latin praetendere
Date: 1832
1: characterized by pretension: as a: making usually unjustified or excessive claims (as of value or standing) pretentious fraud who assumes a love of culture that is alien to him — Richard Watts> b: expressive of affected, unwarranted, or exaggerated importance, worth, or stature



I have an irritation plaguing me. It's one of those things, but it's okay. It's a small thing, like a rock in the shoe. Annoying, doesn't seem to go away, and sometimes you just can't quite get it out.

One of the pet peeves of mine, something I really hate, is watching people 'grow up' into something their not.

I'm not saying that people don't grow up. But... I have to say, that generally, one who is not raised around sophistication and culture has a hard time adapting, and a worse time understanding some of the upper class rituals in which the privileged partake. I'm not saying it cannot be learned...but I must say that it is a skill acquired through time and patience.

For instance, there are quite a few people who sit down at a formal dinner and have trouble with utensils. (And I've been one of those people.) If you're using twelve pieces of flatware and you're unsure which fork is used for escargot, but you've got it sitting in front of you, chances are that you haven't grown up with that kind of experience. Having the desire to collect those rare and interesting pieces of cutlery is an acceptable hobby...but giving oneself airs as if you were born with that silver spoon in your mouth, well, that's something you might want to think about.

The idea I am trying to convey is simple enough - don't pretend to be something you're not. Very few people grow up knowing what Belleek is, or understanding the motives of the Unger Brothers. (Personally, I would perfer the works of the Armand Frénay group over that of International, but that's just me, you see. I don't really care for what others love, I have my own visions of what is beautiful.) You can like beautiful things, you can collect them if you're of a mind to be materialistic - just don't think that by pouring money into something that others collectively think is 'elegant' that it makes you some sort of expert or attributes its own sophistication to you - these things are not learned by osmosis.

By strutting around and saying, "LOOK AT MY EXPENSIVE STUFF" makes you no better nor smarter than some pinhead 'celebrity' who rose to fame and fortune overnight and has an 'image consultant' pick out most of his wardrobe, or a 'designer' pick his goddamn furniture. You have money, but you still have no class, you still have no culture.

'Stoopid glue' (super glue) some peacock feathers on a duck and frankly, it is STILL a duck.



(yeah...I posted this from my other blog, because I think it got eaten...)

clubbing

I went out to the club last night, and I kept hearing a friend of mine whispering in my ear, "Aren't you a little old for that?"

I suppose so. But the people-watching fascinates me. I saw something that was to be the apex of my evening. For behold, the floor moved as one unit and thus I realized the existence of R&B line dancing. Who would have thought it?

I know that a lot of younger people go there to hang out, but really, I realize how sad it looks. People either milling about or making fools of themselves on the dance floor. Reckless and drinking without hesitancy, the dim lighting and crowdedness somehow mutating into an excuse to behave publicly as an ass and have it be acceptable.

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

I don't know. But I know where they wind up.

the anniversary

It has been quite some time since my husband and I went out alone.

In fact, I think it was not the last anniversary, but the one before that where we went out alone. The night went smoothly and instead of collapsing in throws of passion on the bed when we got home....we just passed out.

The next day, my stepmother complained loudly about having to have watched the children (I have never really asked her before and now will never ask her again), which has always been my biggest fear was to foist my children upon someone as if they were a burden. I love my kids, and they are KIDS....they are not destructive (mostly), they are not rude or talk ugly. They just are kids, and they like attention. However, there are many in this world that are not 'kid people' and there are even more that have had children, went through the long haul, and as they get older, their patience and temperament sour (my parents).

So this year, with a gaggle of clan, I thought that if such a situation occurred, that they might be able as a group effort to herd the children for a few hours on my anniversary. Unfortunately, the brunt fell on one person who rose admirably to the occasion (although she is contemplating if she really wants kids).

I know what it sounds like. It sounds like my kids are brats. They're not. They're highly intelligent, they're pretty well behaved and they are curiously bright. The six year old is the top of her year class in reading, in so far as she is the first 1st grader on their Advanced Reader program and is reading at a third grade level. My eldest, who is 10 (almost 11), is part of the GT program, in the top echelons of her AR program, and was just invited to a leadership conference at the college. Smart kids. But kids have a lot of questions and need a lot of attention. They really take selfless individuals to give them what they need, and not dissing anyone, unless you have the responsibility of the well-being of another human and take that responsibility seriously, you have no idea how selfish you really are.

But beyond that....we actually get to go out. Wow.

We're in the car, and the conversation is as follows.

"So....where do we go?"

"I dunno. Where do you want to go?"

Ack. So, what do I do? I'm a shopaholic - I take him window-shopping. We go to several places, trying desperately hard not to talk about anyone or the family within the scope of our conversation. We go shoot pool. We go play putt-putt (the course was fairly uninteresting, save for the water hazards). We go out to a nice dinner (and I admit, that after 12 years of marriage, I am just not learning that although my husband hates cheesecake, the one and only cheesecake he will eat is key lime pie....which would have helped oh, I dunno, 12 years ago to know...) and then, out of fairness, go shopping for a few things for the household. I call the sitter, asking if she needs anything, and she informs me she's bought it all, don't worry, just come home. So we do. And we marvel to each other about how of recent, we might see each other outside of laying in bed five hours in a week...and we just got to spend an entire day together.

And the house is completely empty.

Now, for someone who is used to a full house, this is almost kind of dejecting. But we take it in stride, snuggle up and watch a cartoon (anime is STILL just a cartoon), awaiting people to come home.

Now, let me go back a bit. We're doing the window-shopping thing, and talking about the things that we like, what we'd allow in our home and what we wouldn't (we both have differing tastes in decor) and what we could compromise on. I would pick something up, then put it down, he would keep his hands in his pockets.

And he knows I'm a shopaholic.

So he asks at one point when I'm holding something, "Would you like that for your anniversary?"

Absent-mindedly, I set it down. "No...not really."

He cocks his head to the side, waiting for a response.

"I just....don't really see anything I can't live without. Or that I'm dying to have. Really...Some of it is nice, but it's really all just junk. I don't NEED any of it."

I thought he was going to fall out.

I'm just coming closer and closer to the realization of who I am, I think. I mean, it's something we constantly work on. But a lot of the time, no matter how expensive, when I buy something, I really just wind up giving it away to someone who seems overjoyed to get it. The stuff doesn't really matter to me. And the stuff that I DO keep, well, I realize that I'm not just wanting to keep it...I'm actually 'holding it' for someone else. Like the girls have some very beautiful handmade things, sewing and crafting, from old pagan friends which I have lost track of. But they are delicate, some of them, and to give them over now would probably sign their death warrants. So, I have them put away (I really could use hope chests for them) for them when they get grown and move off.

Silly, isn't it? But I realize my stuff isn't mine, it's in holding for someone else. At least, most of it.

Anyway...beyond my rambling, there's two points in there. Promise. The first is that no matter how long you are with someone, you still will not now everything there is to know about them (and my anniversary was the 16th...I've been marred 12 years now). And...now matter how long you're alive, you're always constantly going through self-discovery.

Yeah, this is a badly worded blog. But valid points.