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Archive for the 'Random Thoughts' Category

For the Love of God, People, READ TO YOUR KIDS!

Monday, August 16th, 2010

Reading stats over at Reach Out & Read and am saddened (but not shocked) to learn that Louisiana ranks last (as in #50) in % of children read to every day by their parents and (no doubt as a small result of that, among other factors, of course - mainly our shitty & dismal excuse for "education" in this state) we are ranked #49 in "% Students at or above Proficient in reading, Grade 4" and #50 in "% Children age 6-17 who have repeated at least one grade".

Damn.  That is sobering and depressing, eh?

In other words, Louisianian parents, please read to your goddamn kids! Please?

Reading and books were so important in my home.  My Mom always read to us, always had us excited about books and stories, took us to the library, etc.  She made the world of books magical - she loved reading so much (inherited from my grandfather) that it just came natural to her to immerse us in the wonderful, imaginative world of stories.

The result?  Three smart kids that - as adults - have a passion for books and one that became a writer (that would be me).

It isn't uncommon for us to give gift certificates to Amazon as birthday/Xmas gifts; we all read, all the time, and we love books.  If we read a really good one, we tell each other to check it out, loan books to one another, etc.  It's awesome, really.  I can't imagine a life without books - without words and stories and all of the neat worlds I've experienced and characters I've met through reading.  The love of books and reading is one of the most precious gifts our mother gave to us and I am forever thankful for it.

Please, parents, take some time away from your busy schedules to read to your kids - it's more important than you know and you will be opening up so many wonderful, creative worlds for them by doing so.  Read to your kids.  Both of you will benefit from it and you just can't beat that precious time spent together.

Unexpected Encounters

Friday, February 26th, 2010

You know, it's often when we least expect it or realize it - when we're just being ourselves - that we end up touching someone or impacting their life in a miraculous way.  I think that's just one of those beautiful, little serendipitous things in life - sort of that never knowing when you might entertain angels unaware, but the "angels" may be your next-door neighbor, the old woman at the bus stop, or the kid with the piercing in their lip that you thought was freaky 'til they opened their mouth and spoke kind words that touched your heart & soul.

Random Thoughts by a Busy, Braindead Chick

Monday, February 21st, 2005

No, no, really I do still exist. Gods I have been fucking busy. I'm braindead because of it - I've been meaning to come here and post but I can never think of anything to say!

Let's do the random bit; haven't done that in awhile.

The Worm and I have been watching way too much Aqua Teen Hunger Force lately. My tolerance for stupidity grows thinner every day. I miss my Nine Inch Nails "Pretty Hate Machine" CD - it was one of the ones that got thrown out when my car was stolen. The Worm's 30th birthday was last week and I've been so busy that I didn't even plan anything really special for him; therefore, I suck. I got a dozen red roses and a dozen colored tulips for Valentine's Day - which makes me suck even more for not doing something special for his birthday. I recently purchased a keychain with Brian, the dog from The Family Guy on it. This will be the second keychain I've had with a dog on it - the first was Courage, the Cowardly Dog. I'm not really a dog person. I've really got to get some work done to my ouroborus tattoo. I got mentioned on the H.O.P.E. site and that was awesome. My writing has actually got a lot of attention in the last year, speaking of...a piece I did on cutting was going in a college "self-help" pamphlet and I got published for the first time ever. I'm thinking of taking up freelance writing. Isadora Duncan is someone I admire and respect a great deal. It keeps threatening rain outside, but it won't; who knew Mother Nature was such a tease? The kind of man that adorns the front of a hand-made card for me with the word "Sophia" is the kind of man I want to marry. I hate Mondays. I think I want to start using the words "lingual" and "jocular" more often. I now love black tea and drink it 2-3 x's day. I'm afraid of stickers, receipt paper and wet paper; if you make fun of me because of this I'll cut you. I've learned that it is not good to let your friends know of these types of fears; if anyone will exploit a fear to get a good laugh, it is your friends. Sometimes friends suck. Sometimes the old Tootsie Roll commericial jingle will inexplicably get stuck in my head; that and that "Your flag boy and my flag boy..." song. I despise that song. I miss writing in my blog and to make more of an effort to do so, even if I just ramble nonsensically.

Say something random.

Sour Grapes for Love

Friday, April 2nd, 2004

You know what confuses the fuck out of me? Love.

Surely it's something that confounds everyone in many ways. But being the Libra-in-Venus "in love with love" hopeless romantic that I am, a great portion of my deeper thoughts are spent pondering the nuances and mysteries of Love.

Love is many things to many people - an ethereal thing that, I believe, can never be truly defined by the human mind; and only very rarely be understood by the human heart. My own beliefs about Love have run the gamut of complete belief in its trappings to bitter contempt for its pitfalls. Love is something you have to survive through - especially Love lost. When I was recovering from my first broken heart, I came up with the quote, "Love kills the weak; Love frees the strong." I still firmly believe in this saying. You have to be one extremely strong individual to handle Love - it will destroy just as surely as it will take you to the greatest heights.

Never are my feelings and thoughts on the concept of Love more on my mind than after having talked with my ex (the aforementioned first broken heart). Though it has taken years, I can honestly say I am no longer "in love" with him, and, also, am able to listen to him talk about other women without that jealous twinge. Yet there is still a pain there - and I suppose it's normal - to realize that he isn't "in love" with me anymore. We both still love one another a great deal, and are good friends. I'm not in love with him, I've moved on and found another - so why does it bother me, even though it is slight, that he has done the same? It's not a great pain or a horrible thing to deal with - just a slight, yet noticeable, ache. So I begin to try and figure out why.

I suppose it's the same thing that makes me so bitter and cynical about Love these days. I have trouble grasping the concept of all, complete, unconditional and absolute Love coming to an end. I know that it does, and can - and that everyone in our lives are there for the time they are for the lessons we are meant to learn from them. I know that just because he and I fell out of Love with each other doesn't mean Love is a lie. But it feels that way to this Libran Venus heart. All those promises to Love someone forever echo so hollow years later when that person is no longer in your life. How can one trust in anything when something as strong as the Love you felt for a particular person can...leave?

Does that mean I am correct in my assumption that "in love" is nothing more than obsession - a fading infatuation that usually peters out eventually even if two people stay together "forever"? My mind cannot get around how madly in Love I was with this man and the fact that I now am simply...not. That he was wholly in love with me and then just wasn't. What the hell is Love, then? Can it ever last "forever and ever"? Is it even real, in the ways that we believe it is? Does true and consumate Love as we see on TV and read in books and hear in songs even truly exist?

Just thoughts... have a splendid weekend.

Random Happenings

Thursday, March 25th, 2004

Interesting tidbits

Just a few cool and strange random things have been happening lately and I felt like sharing.

Stella's New 'Sneaks
With her new 15" wheels, Stella, my Miata, is lookin' mighty fine. Now, however, I have this strange phobia about curbs - whenever I pass near one I am silently panicking inside that I may brush up against one and scratch up my new rims. Curbs are the devil and I'm deathly afraid of them - I now try to avoid them at all costs.

The coolest thing, though, had to be the other day. I was driving out of a very small little community out in Prairieville this past Saturday. I was at a four-way stop, about to turn left. It was a gorgeous day and I had the top down. As I turned my head to the right to check for traffic I saw this young girl on a bicycle riding up down and the street. I'd say she was about 10 or 11, but who can tell how old kids today are? Her eyes lit up and she yelled out, "Wow, tight car!" I laughed, waved and yelled "Thank you!" As I drove off, I saw her in the rearview mirror waving at me. Tight car. That was just great.

Betty or Betty Sue?
I was in the waiting room of the doctor's office yesterday, happily reading the first Jamie book when a nurse opened the door. I heard her call out in a loud voice, "Betty Smith." No one answered. She called out again, even louder. Still nothing. The third time I, along with everyone else, glanced up and around the room. The nurse looked down at the chart in her hands and then tried again, "Betty Sue Smith?" Right then a woman sitting in a seat closest to the door the nurse was standing at jumped up, "That's me!" she sang out cheerfully and started grabbing her things. I couldn't figure out if she just didn't put two and two together and realize it might just be her the nurse was looking for, or she if she had some kind of hard-on about her name and refused to answer to anything else. The nurse looked at her like she wanted to throttle her.

You Waving at Me?
So I was trying to be nice again (will I ever learn my lesson?) and let a guy out. The light turned green, the parking lot he was leaving was right in front of me, so I politely paused to let him out. Dumbshit was on the phone, so subsequently driving with one hand, and he pulled out too far - swerving into the other lane. The vehicle there paused, not politely but out of necessity, and he waved at the guy. He gave the "thank-you-for-letting-me-out" wave to the guy he almost sideswiped, but he didn't give me a wave. He looked me right in the eye before pulling out, and knew I was letting him out - but he didn't thank me. He thanked the other guy for letting him be an asshole and swerve into his lane because he was talking rather than driving. I had half a mind to ram him from behind after that - but I figured he wasn't worth messing up my "tight car" over.

Money, Not Honey
I returned home yesterday and saw that I had a message on our new answering machine. Baret was standing right there, so I hit Play to hear this older black woman slurring into the phone, "Ya know ya there, so ya better pick up. It's not money - oh no - it's honey, baby. Ahhhh....fuck it." Or something along those lines.


Friday, March 19th, 2004

I awoke this morning not to the annoying womp-womp-womp of my alarm, but to the sounds of birdsong outside my window.

My first thought was, "Oh gods, be quiet" as I was ripped from peaceful slumber. But as I began to awake more fully I realized just what I was hearing. I haven't heard birds chirping outside of my window in months. In fact, since we moved here just this past fall, I haven't heard it at all. I smiled, feeling very happy, because I knew that the cheerful and much varied chirps I was hearing were the first announcements of spring. Welcome Spring!

I was just thinking last nite that spring had snuck up on us. Looking at my almanac, I realized that the Spring Equinox, and therefore Ostara, were on Saturday. I hadn't seen it approaching!

(Also, for those that might be interested, I found out that Saturday is, without a doubt, the day of new beginnings! Not only is it the first day of spring, but it is also a New Moon - and on that springtime equinox & New Moon day the Sun and Moon will be moving into Aries, the first sign of the zodiac. I just thought that was all pretty damn neat.)

I wish I celebrated the Pagan holidays more faithfully. The truth of the matter is, I'm just lazy. The old, regular holidays are already planned out for me - okay, Christmas, put up a tree and buy gifts. Easter, dye some eggs and eat chocolate. There's no set rules for the Pagan holidays, which I like, but at the same time when you're the only one you know who wants to celebrate or even cares that it's a holiday, it's just not as fun. Everyone knows that holidays spent alone aren't near as special or inspiring. Still, that's a cop out. My ever-ready to party friends would be more than happy to come on over if I announced an Ostara party; we who also celebrate the Chinese New Year & Mexico's Day of the Dead with festivities. They'd even be interested to learn what it's all about; I have awesome friends. So, I'm just lazy. Every year at Samhain I promise myself, "I'm going to be better this year - I'm going to actually celebrate the Pagan holidays" (they have so much more meaning to me than the usual ones) and every year I don't. Maybe this new beginnings Ostara, though, is the time to start.

Anyway, about the birdsong. I read somewhere once (it might've been in Linda Goodman's "Star Signs") that birdsong actually encourages the plants to grow. That's why they are singing. Isn't that just a lovely thought?

I'm going to start gardening in my patio soon and need some suggestions. What's good for a novice gardener to try and grow? Something fairly easy to keep up with, low maintenance (b/c I'm lazy) but that looks nice. I plan to grow some food & herbs as well, so any such suggestions are welcome. This is the biggest garden area I've had to work with yet so I'm very excited. I'll keep you updated on my progress via pictures.

I'm out - it's Friday and I can wear jeans to work today. That makes everything alright with the world.

Whack It Good

Tuesday, March 9th, 2004

Ever heard of Googlewhack? I hadn't myself until a few weeks ago. It's basically typing in two obscure dictionary-accepted words into the Google search engine and having it come back with only one result. Which isn't as easy as it sounds - but not quite as hard either. I was able to come up with three successful Googlewhacks myself, and keep meaning to post them on here but I keep forgetting. Of course, now that I'm posting and thinking about it all at the same time, I don't have my list with me. Blech.

I did, as I said I would, write an email to the mayor of Los Angeles expressing my disapproval of the Cuervo proposition. I could not find an email address to send anything to the tequila people, or they'd of gotten it from me as well.

I believe I did a bit of emotional growing up this weekend past, and I have to say, it felt good. On Saturday I had a visit with my soulmate and we ended up arguing over something petty. Both of us were too prideful to be the first to apologize and end the entire stupid thing, and our visit ended with us both being terribly upset over ruining our time together.

So on Sunday when Baret and I were leaving his parent's house after a nice visit, I did something silly. When I'm drunk, I like to yell out the car window at people. Just a silly "Whoo-hoo!" or "Lookin' sexy!" - something I've done when riding with my friends just to make them laugh. Except I usually do this in Baton Rouge, a slightly large city, where anonymity is assured. You don't do these things in a small town where everyone knows everyone, and you're down the road your boyfriend's parents live on. There was this young girl, she couldn't have been more than 13 or 14, walking with her boyfriend. Except this girl had on shorts that made daisy dukes look like a nun's robe. They looked, to me, more like panties; they were skin-tight and her ass was even hanging out of them. It bothers me to see young girls dressing like this. I was drunk, and not thinking, so I yelled out the window as we passed, "Put some clothes on."

Okay, it was not cool of me. I know that - but whatever. As soon as I did it Baret yelled at me, "Shanna!" It was his tone that got me - a disapproving, what-in-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you type of yell. I immediately felt bad. I hate being fussed at and I immediately felt guilty for yelling at that kid. It's not her fault her parents let her walk down the street like a 'ho, right? And what if she knew who we were, and went back and told her family who told his family what I'd done. Not cool. I don't care what people think of me - but I didn't want people thinking Baret, for his sake, was dating some kind of evil bitch (even if it is true). I clammed up and Baret could tell I was fuming. He tried to talk to me a bit but I completely ignored him - I was in a rage.

The thing was, I wasn't mad at him; I was mad at me. I don't deal with guilt very well - a point made obvious when you look at the scars on my arms from my past self-mutilation. I hold myself, I guess, to a high standard or something - whatever it is - I can't stand to feel bad or guilty about something. It eats at me terribly, and no one could be harder on me than I am on myself. After almost an hour of silent driving, I muted the radio and said, "I have to say something."

I could see the look in his eyes, "Oh god - here it goes." He thought I was going to light into him about calling me out. Instead, I said, with a shaky voice, "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at me and I'm sorry. I just don't deal well with being fussed at and feeling guilty." He was so happy that I'd admitted that and said he really thought I was angry with him. He said that I do get very defensive when I feel guilty and he wanted to help me work on that. We then had a great talk about our relationship and how we both deal with anger. He admitted that when I poke and prod at him to keep talking about an issue, rather than let it drop, he hates it - but that he had to admit it had made him better able to accept when he was wrong and, also, to think about what he was doing and why.

I felt good about the whole weekend - I met up with one of my oldest demons and faced it. I believe I even began to conquer it and that's an amazing feeling.