I promised a preview

Here's a bit of the story I'm currently writing. It's definitely not going to be finished in time for Manastash. and it would be too long anyway. but I though you might like to read it anyway.

Danya

It was my birthday. The day that he was taken. My birthday. I was finally 18. Finally free to go out into the world by my own self. I wouldn’t have of course. Not without Mathew. But I was able to, if I so chose.

Mathew was my best friend. He had been ever since the nuns had their vision. Well, a bit after that really. They sent me to Kliq orphanage. That’s where I met him. When I first got there I thought he was a fine, patient person. I wasn’t easy to get along with in those days. I thought the nuns abandoned me, you see. But sister Atria had a vision. She saw my future, my destiny, at Kliq. I think she saw Mathew. Because one day, he couldn’t take it anymore. And he pushed me to the ground, as 8 year olds will when 5 year olds do something they don’t like. But that’s when I finally did something he did like. I got angry. I got really angry and I broke his nose. I started crying when I saw all the blood, but he just smiled.

“I knew you’d come around.” He’d said to me. He was the oldest 8 year old I’d ever met. And he never got any younger. By 10, he got interested in politics. He’d wanted to become a member of the council. I believed he could do it too. I still do if he was given half a chance. But orphans aren’t allowed to be elected to any position. Not because the people don’t think orphans wouldn’t make good decisions on the council. But because then the council members might lose a good chunk of their income.

There are laws in Rand, you see. New laws, and old laws. The old laws are unchangeable. Written in the foundations of this country. To change them would be to unravel the foundations of Rand itself. And in those old laws it set a budget for schooling and care of the people and especially of the orphans.

Now, no one knows quite how they did it, but the council members have put new laws into existence that lowers the amount of money that actually gets to the schools and orphanages. All that money goes to line the council member’s pockets. So Mathew gave up his dreams to go into the council. And took up dreams of stopping them instead. He formed connections. Friends in other orphanages. The downtrodden. And somehow among all that, Typhoon was founded. Devoted to washing clear the country of the council and corruption. And it was that group I found myself sheltered in, 10 years after our meeting. When Mathew finally turned 18.

As a voluntary orphan at Kliq, I was allowed to leave it if I ever found a better home. Mathew was placed there 3 years before I met him. His parents were fishers off the north coast. They and all the rest of his family died in a pirate raid. No one knows how little Mattie survived. He never even told me. The fact is that the council places children made orphans during war, pirate raids, or work related incidents. They’re supposed to place them in the least crowded home. But they don’t. Too many orphanages actually aren’t running anymore. They are on paper. But no children live in these places. Once the council places a child, they can’t leave until their 18^th birthday.

It’s not just children who are getting the short end of the stick either. Merchants are made to sell their wares for coppers. To the rich at least. The merchants of Rand make money where they can. And where they can’t . . . well. Let’s say the slave trade is flourishing.

So, this is where I found myself. As a 15 year old girl I moved into a burned out stone castle in the mountains. It took a lot of work from me and the boys, but we got the place livable again. Mathew and the others found it on some trip once. We’d gone into the mountains several times on trips with the orphanage. He’d never taken me to see the place though. I got some food growing and the boys brought me some livestock. They were wary of having me along at first, but Mathew talked them around. And as soon as they learned how lousy they all were at cooking, they were glad I’d come. So I’d grow the plants and take care of the livestock. When I needed them to, they harvested and slaughtered and gutted. And I cooked. And cleaned. And cleaned. It takes a lot of cleaning and washing and cooking to keep a group of boys in line. But I liked it. And the boys loved me. And we gained so many members. Men my age. older men. Some with sons. No women though. Women were too valuable as slaves.

For 3 years I’d been kept up in that castle in the mountains. For my safety. The cities are dangerous places for women. Especially young women. Mathew went out, of course. He recruited. He went on missions. Freed slaves. Stole from the rich, gave to the poor. All that. And he paid special attention to Kliq.

“Because that’s where I met you.”

On my 18^th birthday, I begged to go into town. I had no special connection to Kliq, but I missed the colorful market that the orphanage directors sometimes took us to. So I begged and I begged. It didn’t work. Finally I threatened. I would go with or without Mathew. I probably wouldn’t have. But I wanted him to agree. And he did. In hindsight, I wish he wouldn’t have.

I wore my best dress. Red with gold trim and pearl beading. It had been a gift from Mathew for my 16^th birthday after his first successful mission. I only wore it on special occasions. And it was a very special occasion. I had some gold with me. We needed some provisions at home. Plus, I had 3 years of spending money and I planned to use some of it on myself.

Truth to tell, I was hoping that Mathew had realized he loved me. or at least that I loved him. He took me all over the city and I gawped like a tourist. We went to the temples and the bridges and the monuments. We even stopped by a colorful Sarian ritual. It was more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen.

When we walked into the market, Mathew started acting jumpy. We had an agreement with the thieves in this town. They help feed the people here too. So we don’t hinder each other. So I knew he couldn’t be worrying about pickpockets. But I couldn’t figure it out. What could Mathew possibly be jumpy about? He was a big man. Very strong. Very tall. He was a man you wouldn’t want to mess with. And he was good at every kind of weapon. Even unarmed, he was deadly. Not that I knew first hand. He got jumpier as we walked past stall after stall. Eventually he stuck me in a small alleyway in between buildings.

“Do not move. Not an inch from this place. Do you understand? We’re being followed.” He whispered at me. His body was covering my view of the market, but I was also the one covered. I nodded at him and he kissed me on the forehead. Maybe he knew what was going to happen. He must have seen the slavers targeting him specifically. Because as soon as he stepped out of the alley, a group converged on him. He didn’t put up as much of a fight as maybe he should have. He didn’t put up much of a fight at all. I started crying as soon as I understood. Mathew had been taken.

I sat eventually and stopped crying. All I could do was stare dimly at the spot as a place inside me hardened. I would have to do something soon. I would have to act. But I needed to let every hurt out first, so I could concentrate. Many people passed my hiding place without noticing me. I’m not sure how you miss a girl in a bright red dress, but it happened. The thieves saw me at least. They recognized me too. The whole system knew I was not to be touched. So when they saw me in that alleyway, I knew they’d be calling someone from Typhoon to come and collect me quick. Before anyone official noticed me.

But I noticed someone too. That Sarian girl who ran the ritual. She passed by with two men, armed to the teeth. She walked with the confidence of a goddess even with those men (who looked like slavers) at her back.

“I must get him back. I must save him” I said to myself. I couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since the first thief had seen me, but it was likely that someone would be here any minute to collect me.

“Aye, lass. Tha’ yeh must.”

Rashati

I looked out toward the west, over the water, to where I knew, somewhere, my “homeland” lay. I had never been there, but that was unimportant. The other people here didn’t understand that I too was Randian by birth. All they saw was my Sarian heritage through my bright green eyes and dusty brown skin. But that was okay. I was Sarian.

My parents had emigrated from Saria 19 years ago. That was before the civil war started. Sweet peaceful Saria was taken under military control. At least, that’s the way my parents tell it. It’s true that there was a coup and a dictator now controls Saria, but it wasn’t as peaceful as my parents like to believe. We’re part of the Temple Keepers. The religious leaders. The highest caste in our country. Even here, we’re a very respected family. They never saw the bad in Saria.

There aren’t many Sarians who escaped before the war closed the boarders, but those who did come every week to my temple service, even though I’m not a full priestess. Even Randians come. They don’t really understand our religion, but they understand the basics of our goddess.

To become a full priestess, one must go on a pilgrimage to see all the ancient temples in Saria. My parents believe that one must make their own way there in their own time for the pilgrimage to have meaning. That’s why I’m on the docks today. Directly after this morning’s service I decided that it has to be today. I believe it to be a divine calling. So, still in my temple dress, I walked down to the docks.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a big man being forcibly taken onto a slave ship called the Rash Lionna. That meant the ruthless lion in Sardi. Meaning the Slavers were Sarian and probably dropping cargo at one of the big city ports there. I didn’t know how long they would stay in port or if they would agree to take me, but I had to try.

I went up to a man who looked to be the captain based upon the red armband he wore. Red is a leader’s color in Sarian culture.

“Good afternoon,” I said in the temple keeper’s dialect of Sardi. As the only daughter of a high priestess, I knew every dialect of Sardi, their cultural significance, and the laws and rules that members of each caste must follow as well as cultural and religious history and ceremonies of all sorts. Unfortunately, as a priestess in training, I was not allowed to learn the fighting arts. If these men no longer followed the goddess and the caste rules I would be in trouble. But they did. They all bowed to me.

“My lady,” the captain said. He was using an old fishmonger’s dialect. He must have been a fisher before the war broke out. “What brings you to these dangerous docks?”

“I must complete my pilgrimage to fulfill my duty and take my place as a high priestess. I need to go ‘home’,” I used the Sardi word for community and family to mean home. The temple keeper’s children are not normally brought up with their families. Sons go into the temple warrior legion; daughters go into the temple to study as priestesses, so the community and indeed every Sarian person was family. In the Temple Keeper’s dialect, family and community were synonymous with home and Saria. “I am asking to accompany you to Saria on your ship.

A request from a priestess is very difficult to deny, especially a high priestess- even one who has yet to complete a pilgrimage. And order is impossible to deny. I didn’t want to order these men if I did not have to. Better to allow them to agree.

“Of course, my lady.” The captain bowed again. “Do you need anything else? We’re set to leave in an hour’s time.”

“I just need to get my equipment from the temple-” before I could saw I would be back in time, the captain interrupted me.

“My men will accompany you. They will see you safely to and from the temple.” I bowed to him- a high honor to the man and his crew.

“My thanks, captain.”

The equipment I would use for my pilgrimage fit easily into saddle bags that one of the men slung over his shoulder. In them, I had a generous amount of money, some easily kept food, and the humble clothing required for the pilgrimage. I left a note for my Baba and Gigi to say that I left on my pilgrimage. I left my service habit in my room and donned the simple cotton dress- hardly more than a shift- that pilgrims wore. As the official start of my journey, I must wear it. In my hand I carried an ebony rod topped with the symbol of the goddess in gold. It was the only weapon I was allowed as a woman. And it wasn’t really a weapon. It was used in many religious ceremonies that I would be performing during my journey.

As I boarded the ship, I blessed the journey and the passengers as is custom and I carved a protective symbol on the masthead, a roaring lion. The symbol wasn’t custom but it felt necessary with the dangerous trip. The passage to Saria was dangerous in normal times, but during a war, it was doubly so.

The man who carried my saddle bags introduced himself as Urqar before asking me to follow him.

“It’s a rough journey, my lady. Best you stay in your quarters most of the time. If you wish to go to any part of the ship I will gladly accompany you.” He spoke with a northern dialect. A woodworker, then. I bet he’d fixed the entire ship many times over. I nodded my assent and he continued. “Tornin and me will be will your personal escorts and guard throughout the trip. It’s mostly Sarian workers here, but some’s so young they don’t understand the duties required to a lady of your status. And some here are Randian. All they see in you is a girl to be used, pardon my saying so.”

When we got to my quarters he set my bags down on the well-made cot and exited to stand just outside the door. I bowed deeply in thanks to him and he shut the door for me.

The ship soon departed and I knew I wouldn’t be needed for some time, so I settled in to “commune with the goddess”. Not literally, of course. Only fully fledged high priestesses can truly commune with the goddess. But it was practice.

Hours later I was woken by a knock on my door. Urqar opened the door at my allowance. He spoke in Randian now as crew members all do. “Dinner is ready, my lady, if you care for it. Some get sick out here in the waves.”

“Thank you, Urqar.” I said. I stood up, a little wobbly on the waves, but I soon got used to the rocking.

Over the month of the trip, I got to know all of the men. And many of the slaves. I was allowed to hold service in the cargo hold for the slaves as well as hold one for the crew members. Many of the slaves found comfort in the goddess of the land they were to be sold into and I started teaching them the slave dialect of Sardi.

There was one man in particular I remembered. He was the one they were dragging onto the ship when I first noticed it was Sarian. His name was Mathew.  He told me of his life. Of the Sarian pirate raid that killed his family and the council that sent him to Kliq orphanage. How he met Danya. And his life with her and Typhoon. And I resolved to buy him and get him back to Rand by any means necessary.

Just before we set in to port, I went to find the captain.

“Captain Karn,” I greeted him in Sardi with a bow. He bowed back and I continued. “I don’t mean to deplete your stock, but I require a guardian for my pilgrimage. I’m sure you understand.”

He didn’t look pleased, and didn’t answer.

“I’m quite willing to pay for him, you see.” He seemed a bit happier at that but a bit more confused.

“Pay? You aren’t wanting Urqar?” he asked.

“Oh no. I would never take a crew member. Not when every hand is needed on this ship.”

He bowed deeply to me. “Thank you my lady. Which one were you wanting then?” he escorted me down to the cargo hold and I pointed Mathew out. All the slaves were perked up. They didn’t understand really what was happening, as Sarian deals are all made in Sardi, but they always liked when I came to visit. “That one? Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll give you 200 gold for him.”

“Thank you my lady” he said in Randian and bowed as we completed our deal.

As we put in to port Urqar pulled Mathew up to my quarters.

“What’s going on, Rashati?” Mathew asked. Urqar cuffed Mathew across the head.

“Show some respect to your new mistress, boy!” Urqar spat.

“It’s quite alright Urqar.” I assured him. “He’s to be my guardian after all.”

Mathew looked confused.

“But my lady, it isn’t right. He isn’t Sarian. He’s not even a free man!”

“Urqar,” I said softly, “You know I couldn’t pick you.”

Urqar looked at me, nodded slowly and then bowed deeply. He left quickly after that. And Mathew just looked at me.

“So… mistress? I’m not real good with authority you know.” Mat was speaking in an urban slang from the slums of the capitol city. He probably thought I was Sarian through and through. Even though we had come to Saria from the same port. He wanted to confuse me. But I answered in the same slang.

“Don’t think you can douse me just cause I’m Sarian.” He just stared at me for a second.

“Okay,” he said finally, “I’m listening.”

“Not here.” I said quietly. “After we’re out of the city. Just stay with me and you won’t be killed… most likely.”

We got off the ship and immediately went to a weapons shop. I outfitted Mathew with all the weapons he could carry and use competently. Then I bought clothes for Mathew befitting a guardian of a high priestess. And finally I bought food and horses. And we were out of the city by nightfall.

Danya

I turned around, knife pulled at the sound of the voice. But it was just Gallen so I put my weapon back away. He’s one of the older men from Typhoon. He’s from the Norther moors so his accent is kind of affected. He lost his only son a few years ago, before he joined Typhoon. Gallen had been working really hard as a servant in a councilman’s house. But servants hardly get paid anything. And his son Benj was slowly starving to death. And in the end, there was nothing Gallen could do. Mathew found him soon after Benj passed. He was a broken man without his son. But Mathew brought him in and Gallen sort of adopted us, me and Mathew. After a while, Gallen started to come back to himself. He saw that our work was really helping the people. feeding the starving, just like Benj.

Gallen chuckled at me. “what are yeh worried about in here lass? The on’y ones what see yeh are the ones as look. And don’t nobody lookin here.”

I sighed. I was exasperated with his talk already. he could speak council perfect Randian, but he likes to annoy me so he doesn’t. that was when he noticed that something was actually wrong.

“What happened? Where’s Mathew?”

“They took him. Sarian Slavers. They’re probably gone by now.” Gallen looked shocked for about a second, before getting determined.

“Let’s go then. We need to get you-” I interrupted before he could say home.

“I’m not going home Gallen. We have to save Mathew.” It might be that Gallen knew how stubborn I could be when it came to Mathew. It may have been that he saw Benj in Mathew’s good heart. Or maybe it was something else. I don’t know. But I could see the argument crumple in his face.

“What do you mean to do then?”

“We go to Saria and buy him or take him back by force.”

“Okay. There are two problems with that. 1. We don’t have enough money. Not for passage to Saria. Not for purchasing of such an important slave. And 2. There are only the two of us on this. We can’t risk the rest of Typhoon. They have work they need to continue here.”

“Well what do you suggest?” as soon as I said that, I regretted it. There was a mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye.

“How’s your singing voice?”

A few hours later, I found myself decked in jewels. I was also in the middle of the council market. This area of the market housed the best wares of the best. The best pastries, cloth, fruit, shoes. You name it; the best of it was here. And only the council was allowed to purchase anything here. And there I was, about to put on the most embarrassing show. Virtually sell myself to the council to get Mathew back.

“I cannot believe you talked me into this.” I hissed at him. People were staring at me, thieves, merchants, and councilmen. I was not good with staring.

“It’s the best way lass.”

 As soon as I saw the first councilman, I started singing. It was a lullaby the nuns used to sing to me. It was sweet and sad. And lovely. So lovely. A whole pack of them gathered around to hear the song. But one looked more interested than the rest. Fortunately he also looked the richest. That could go one of two ways. He could spend every copper he gets to lavish himself. Or he could just make the most money out of the group of wolves surrounding me. I decided to take my chance and I focused the song on him. And he fell in love… as much as a councilman can.

We were married quickly. I wanted to waste no time. He was a putrid man. All oil and slime. I never even really bothered to learn his name. I didn’t need to. But he had more gold than anyone I’d ever seen. And I needed that gold. As soon as I could I put the charm on.

“Dearest,” I cringed inwardly while I said the term, “I require a slave.” I spoke the request as if nothing I said would ever be refused. Like I was the queen of Rand. And indeed it was like I was.

“Whatever for, my love?”

“Why, to protect me of course. While I’m out in the markets and visiting my friends.” I pouted prettily. He couldn’t resist.

“But dear, we have guards for that.” That was an argument against my idea that I had not thought about a did not have a response to. So instead, I thought of the only thing I could do. I started crying.

“My dear! My dear, what’s wrong?”

“I-it’s my brother. My most beloved brother. I’m sorry for the deception. He was taken. I just found out. Slavers captured him. I am certain he is on his way to death in Saria. He is not meant for war!” I cried. I really put on the theatrics. I should have been a player.

He hugged me. The smell was horrifying. Like crushed dreams and decaying flesh.

“Don’t worry, darling. We’ll get him back. You can take Gallen and a company. Go to Saria. Find your brother and bring him back. Don’t worry.”

I smirked at Gallen behind his back. He gave me a thumbs up. We would get Mathew back. And then I could kill my putrid “husband.”

Love Poem. . . Right?

If

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.


-- E.E. Cummings

Welcome to Senior Year(!)

I'm graduating this year. What?

Yeah. in 289 days. give or take.

It's not like I thought it would never happen. It's just that 4 years seems like a long time, but it turns out to not be. I feel like I've grown an incredible amount in these 4 short years and I feel like I can take on the world. That's such a strange feeling for me that I don't really know how to deal with it.

I started planning for graduation today. It seems a bit early to be planning for it, but it's one of the most important days of my life. I could graduate early too. I could. it seems strange that after all the drama and me hating school I could graduate a quarter early and am choosing not to. of my own volition.

We started classes earlier this week and I was pleasantly (and unpleasantly) surprised. The classes that I thought were going to be hard are going to be fairly easy, and the classes that I thought I was going to breeze through are going to be the most difficult. On the easy side are Asian-American literature and interpersonal communication.
Literature classes are generally all hard. they usually involve long reading and longer papers explaining how certain theories or types do or do not appear in said reading. this class involves short readings and shorter papers. and movies! we have 4 movies that are assigned.
If you know anything about me, you know that I don't speak very well or very often, so I assumed a class based on speaking to other people would be difficult. necessary, but difficult. but with no long papers to write or dense, boring chapters to read, I think it's actually going to turn out to be a good class. who knows, maybe I'll even make some friends. wouldn't that be something?
the ones that are going to be difficult are copy editing and nonverbal communication.
I actually knew copy editing would be difficult. it's online and involves a lot of readings and a lot of checking and double checking of work. it's probably not going to be hard so much as it will be time consuming. I'm quite looking forward to the challenge.
Nonverbal communications was a slap out of nowhere. I was assuming it would be a class of little discussion. maybe some group work. learning about expressions and how we express ourselves non-verbally. In reality, it is kind of like that. but add in dense textbook readings, a long research paper, and assignments where we have to creep on people and study their non-verbal communication. it doesn't sound super hard. but it's going to put me so far out of my comfort zone. hopefully I'll learn a lot too though. the really hard part is going to be our research paper. it needs to have research that we look up, like any other research paper, but it also requires our own research. AND it needs to be in APA. It'll probably end up being a breeze to write and I'm worrying about nothing.

In any case, I feel like this school year is going to fly by. this is also the year that I'm going to have some fun. Hollow, Ari and I all live fairly close, so we've promised to hang out this school year. have a day in Seattle of a weekend get-together thing. not to mention Hollow and I are going to be road tripping down to California for spring break. it's going to be my first ever real spring break thing. sort of. lol.

We're going to visit our Aunt Mary. she has work though. so during the week, we'll be staying at her house in Fort Bragg by ourselves. two college kids in a beach house by themselves. what could go wrong (just kidding Aunt Mary, I'm sure we will be absolutely fine and definitely won't break anything or cause any property damage). XD

I'm also going to be skipping two days of school(!) I know, I know. I can hardly believe it myself. but it just so happens that Aunt Mary is coming up to visit the weekend before thanksgiving. it would be totally pointless for me to go down for that weekend and then come back up to school for two days of school and then go back home for thanksgiving. so I'm skipping those days. I've reviewed my syllabi and I have enough free absences (ones that won't count against my grade) that I can take those days off without worrying. I've decided that if I have high enough grades, any pop quizzes that I might miss wouldn't affect my grade enough for me to worry about that either. I can hardly believe I'm going to do it.

For my graduation, my best friend is moving back from Iowa, so she and her boyfriend will be coming up and we're going to be having a sleep over. I'm planning on asking Hollow and Ari if they want to sleep over too. a massive sleep over before graduation. of course that involves manicures and pedicures the day before my graduation and setting up for the party.

I just wish I had more friends to invite. it would be so much fun with everyone.

Anyway. Maybe I'll update more as the year goes along. maybe I'll get too swept up in everything and only update again on graduation day. who knows.
until next time,
May your adventure be long and your journey be pleasant.
au revoir, mes amours.

August Dreary

So it's currently the. . .third day of August, 2013. It's been nothing but clouds and mist for the past few days. I would feel like it's a reflection of my emotions, except that is a completely ridiculous notion. So let me give you the update of the summer thus far.

I started my first job (yes, my first ever job) in late June. I"m a courier. So I've been doing this for about 6ish weeks right now, and it's basically taken me this long to stop super-hating this job. I'm making decent money, I guess (everything is better than no income at all, right?). I don't know, I guess that it's just a very stressful job. trying to make deliveries all over the Portland metro area in a fixed time limit? I felt so dumb at first. but now I'm doing 11 jobs a day pretty consistently and I'm finally finding the weird places I was promised. I found a millinery today. I didn't even know they existed anymore and I found one in Portland. How cool is that?

Anyway.

 My youngest cousin is leaving to backpack Europe on Monday. Am I jealous? Monstrously. Can I deal with it? Most definitely. No Matter what happens Hollow and I will always be close, and I'm super excited for her to be backpacking through Europe, I just wish I could be going too. I'm still craving my adventure. I still want to just keep driving until I find somewhere better.

But it's not like the only thing I have to look forward to is dreadful days of work. Oh no! My bestest best friend in the whole world is coming back home to visit for two whole weeks! we're going to eat at a couple of food places that I have seen during work, we're going to go camping, we have so much planned that I'm not entirely sure how many days I'm going to be taking off work. I set my own hours and days, so ultimately it's fine, but less working means less cash in the bank, and that's what this summer was about: refunding my dwindling bank account.

I am going to give Hollow $100 so she can buy me magnets from all the places she goes to. I have a magnet collection, so I'm pretty excited for those. other than that I'm probably only going to buy a couple other things: a new iPod and a few DiamondCandles.

I got my old iPod a little over four years ago, and just a couple months ago, I finally filled it to the brim. it was only and 8GB nano and it took me four years to fill. I'm thinking the 160GB iPod Classic this time. That's 20x the space of my old one. so it should last me around 80 years if I fill it at the same rate. XD

the DiamondCandle is something I found pretty recently. It's a candle, with a ring inside. mostly the rings are cheap. worth $10 or something, but they have rings that range from $10-$5000. That seems like a pretty decent gift right? That's what I though too.

In case anyone forgot, I'm graduating next year! how weird right? I'm still not sure what I'll be doing once I graduate, but it's gonna be good. the best part is, there's no hurry. I have job experience now, I don't have to worry about being completely green in a tough job environment. The last job interview I did went horribly. I didn't know how to answer questions and I didn't have any experience (needless to say, I didn't get the job). but now, I feel like I could go in to a situation like that with some confidence. I know my good qualities, I know I can work hard and do what I need to do in a work environment.

After fall quarter I'll only need 25 credits. that's only 12.5 credits a quarter. about 4 of those credits will be finishing up my major, and about 10 will be finishing my minor. The other 11? That will be the hard part. I never imagined that I would have empty space. I'm not really interested in anything else we have at school. maybe I'll take skills for marriage. or a basic accounting class. who knows. maybe I'll re-take some of those classes that i didn't do so well in. . . lol. who am I kidding, that's not going to happen. if we had any sort of mythology class, I get on that in a hot second. sadly, we don't offer those types of classes, so I'll have to search for something a little more mundane. hopefully, I'll be able to find something that will keep me interested in my last quarter of college.

I'm definitely going to be submitting some more essays and stories to Manastash, so look forward to updates about that, and maybe some sneak peeks.

I guess that's it for now. There's only 6 more weeks of summer. where has the time gone?

May your adventure be long and your journey be pleasant.
Have a good second half of your summer!
Love.

It's Over (What?)

That's right folks, my junior year is over. It seems like it went by so fast. next year, it will probably go by even faster. Before I know it, I'll be graduating and be out in the big scary real world on my own.

Not that I'll be alone. Not really. Because I have tons of people who care about me. who are always willing to support me. and it's not like I'll be living alone. my bestie is gonna get an apartment with me. She's gonna be in charge of cleaning bedrooms and I'm going to be doing other cleaning. we'll share dinner responsibilities and everything, everything will be perfect.

I don't even care if I get a job as an editor. I could work at a book store for the rest of my life and be completely content (provided I get a discount on books)

Maybe I'll get teaching credentials and teach a literature class or a creative writing class or I'll travel abroad and teach advanced English as a second language.

I have options.

It's fantastic.

Good night, loves.

In Search

The moment I step into the woods, it's like I'm in a different world. The trees hush the roar of cars from the highway. I drove in, but even there, standing next to my car, I'm a different person. This is no longer my car, the life I came from no longer matters, because I'm on a journey. I cross neatly to the trail head. No one else is around, just how I like it. The sunlight filters through the canopy painting the needle-strewn ground in shadows like an intricate lace pattern.

I step foot onto the trail and I can see myself, the brave adventurer with my sword at my side, stepping onto the same trail to complete some fantastic deed, to save the world even. Every rustle in the undergrowth is a gremlin or an ogre to fight, every shadow, a demon lurking. after fighting innumerable trolls and demons, I reach a stream. The brave adventurer ducks her head down and drinks, great gulping drinks of the cool fresh water. she splashes some on her face and readies for the inevitable next battle.

But the hiker pauses before the drink. She pulls a water bottle out of her pack instead. She carries no sword, no weapon of any sort. The hiker follows the trail ahead. the shadows no longer demons, the rustles no longer monsters. but the forest remains the same. hushed, and yet thrumming with life and sounds. I don't need the brave adventurer in these woods. The hiker is enough. but maybe I just need to be me.

Yeah!

The sun is shining and I'm feeling good! It's 72 degrees today. I don't really know what happened this weekend, so I'm sorry for anyone who read the last post. It probably didn't make much sense anyway, but that's how I get from time to time. usually its way less crazy and more homesick. for some reason my mind wanted to go into full out crazy mode for a couple days.

In any case, I've spent most of today smiling and laughing. at books, at my teachers, at random thoughts I have. My technical writing professor even congratulated me on having a story be accepted into Manastash. I guess he is one of the advisers or something. Yes, My classes are going to be hard this quarter. and maybe I shouldn't have gotten 18 credits, but I feel like I can do it, ya know? on sunny days like today, I feel invincible.

My next class is my 3 hour(!) writing for editing and publication class. It's only on Mondays so I guess it's not too bad. but seriously, 3 hours. Normally, the first class is just a syllabus day, and maybe a quick intro to the topic . for some of the longer classes, teachers have you go a little bit into the work, maybe do a couple introductory exercises. But I have a feeling that we're actually going to be doing work today. :( When you only have like 9 or so class sessions you don't often waste the first just going over the syllabus, right?

I like the teacher, though so that's good.

I actually really like all my classes thus far. I can't say about writing for editing and publication as of yet (cause we haven't had our first class yet) but I do think I'll end up liking it too, especially because I'm aiming to be an editor. My classes all seem like they'll be pretty challenging, but I guess that's to be expected because I'm a junior.

Oh my gosh! I just realized my junior year is almost over! when I'm not breaking down from stress, it's hard to contain my excitement. 5 years ago, I didn't think I would graduate High school. now here I am, almost graduating college. what a weird set of circumstances, right? It's weird too look back and see how I got to the places I am.

Anyway, I have to go to class soon, so I'll end this here.
I hope your day was as sunny, and lovely, and filled with laughter as mine was! :D

Full to Bursting

My mind is so full. With Greek mythology, with sadness, with loneliness, and all other manner of procrastinating thoughts that I can't even begin to stat thinking about the writing that I have to do for my classes.

Why does it have to be Easter and I have to be alone? why does alcohol not solve the problem? it's no fun alone anyway. I wish holidays didn't exist, then I wouldn't have to be reminded that I'm alone, that I've always BEEN alone, and that I'll continue to be alone for the foreseeable future.

I've been reading the Percy Jackson books. AGAIN. because I'm obsessive. it's making me obsess with Greek Myth too. Not that I wasn't already obsessed with myth, it's just making it worse. Now that school has started up again, it's a little bit harder. I've only been in classes for like 3 days, but already I can tell I'm going to be so worn out by the end of this quarter. Not to mention the fact that somehow I have to figure out how to get an internship for this summer.

Honestly, I feel like my life is going to implode from all the stress I'm under. So naturally, my brain is trying to get me to forget my stresses by distracting me with Percy Jackson, and Greek myth, and being sad.

But now's not the time! I've got things I have to do!

I have a 500 word essay due on Tuesday. This is an essay for Creative Non-fiction, so it doesn't really have a topic. Surprisingly, that makes it about 1000% harder for me. I could probably even use one of these blog posts as my assignment. but that's cheating huh? I feel like it is.

God, I remember freaking out about my future freshman year. You remember? way back when I started this? It's fucking real now. I'm graduating next year. What the fuck am I going to do? I need this internship. I need a miracle. I need to pass these classes. I need to get good grades.

Why can I not do anything but worry about all this? it's like I'm mentally and physically incapable of doing anything productive.

Why can I not imagine a future for myself?

Questions are filling my mind to bursting along with the stress, the myth, and the procrastination.
Am I going crazy?
maybe.

Can I get through?
I have to don't I? It's not like I can kill myself and solve my problems. I promised myself that wasn't my path back in high school right?

but if I end up working at McDonalds after I graduate and perpetuate THAT English major stereotype. . . I'm going to be very mad.

Jesus, this has turned out weird.

I really just need to calm down.

How do I do that? I don't even know.

I wish I could just get my mind to SHUT UP every once in a while. I wish I wasn't such a god-damned lunatic.

I'm going to go before I go into an all out self-hatred rant.
Hope your Easter rocks.

I'll leave you with this adorable picture of the Easter bunny from when he isn't believed in from Dreamworks Rise of the Guardians
He's so adorable!
:D
night.

St. Patty's Day

Exactly one year ago, I had my first kiss. It's a little sad that I hadn't had my first kiss until 3 days before my 20th birthday, but that's how it went. It wasn't even like I was expecting it, or even wanting it really. My friend and I had gone to an 18+ club for a St. Patrick's Day party. somewhere around 1am I was dancing and there was some guy dancing behind me. he wasn't really dancing with me, but he did happen to bump into me every once in a while and then somehow it morphed into us dancing together. Don't ask how it happened, I don't know.

The next thing I knew, there was a tongue in my mouth.
after that charming experience, I felt the need to soak my tongue in mouth wash. I kept popping mints to try and get the feeling off my tongue.

I ended up asking my friend if she wouldn't mind leaving early. The atmosphere that had pulled me along had broken, and I just felt uncomfortable. She said she didn't mind, but I feel like our friendship hasn't been the same since.

Yup. That's how it happened. So romantic. I'm so glad that my first kiss was with a drunk underage idiot that I didn't know at all. although I did later find out that his name was Levi, he was 20, and he was Romanian.

On a side note, I also found out he lived near the big pink porn store with his parents who apparently didn't approve of him bringing girls home.

I don't know why I wanted to write this, but it seems like an important moment that I should write out. people want their first kiss to be with someone they really like, they want it to be sweet and after a date or something. I guess that's just not how it happens for everyone.

This

Just because I don't always tell everyone what I'm feeling all the time, doesn't mean I don't understand too! It doesn't make my feelings any less valid! It doesn't mean you can look down on my life because of how you're assuming I feel. You can't decide on your own that your life is harder than mine.

“When you're struggling with something, look at all the people around you and realize that every single person you see is struggling with something, and to them, it's just as hard as what you're going through.”

I got this quote from a movie I watched 3 years ago on senior skip day. I didn't like the movie too much, but this quote has stuck with me. It's so relevant and I think if everyone just thought about this, people might try to compete for 'worst life' less, and try to help each other out more. 

Maybe not.

But just because I try not to show my struggles like you do, doesn't mean I don't have them. and I find them just as hard as yours.

Adventure

This is a comic from a photocomic site called asofterworld.com
I've been reading this comic on and off for a number of years. Mostly, I think their comics are strange. Sometimes,they're cute. But never have I had one resonate to me like this one did. because this is how I feel.

I'm an adult now. My cage has been opened. Why am I not running as far and as fast as I can?

More than anything I want to have an adventure. I want to not really have a destination, I just want to go. somewhere. you know?

I want to wake up one morning and decide "Hey, I think I'll drive to South Carolina" and then do it, just because I can.

I want to travel far and wide, to wherever my whims take me. and I want to write about the whole thing.

Cheryl Strayed wrote a memoir called Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail. I haven't read it, but I want to. as you can probably tell it's about her hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. She hiked the entire thing with no experience and it was sort of a snap decision she made when she felt her life was falling apart. The book summary says that this journey that she went on broke her down and built her all back up again.

I feel like that's the kind of thing I need to do. I'd never make it hiking the entire Pacific Crest Trail. I'd like to say I could do that, but let's be honest here, I couldn't. But I feel like I need to do SOMETHING. I need to have an adventure of my own. I need to get lost and find my OWN way back. I need to be broken down so I can build myself over again. I need to run away from my open cage, instead of cowering inside of it.

Right now it feels as if the cage is open but there's still this tether holding me in saying "No. It's not time yet." and I'm just waiting for the one tug that will break the tether so I can finally run free. Maybe I'll never be able to pull that hard. who knows.

I want to believe that I can though. that one day, I'll just decide to drive somewhere, anywhere, just because I can, and I'll finally get my adventure.

Citrina

The Hardest Part

The hardest part of being. . . well, being me, I suppose, is. . . I guess I'd have to say reality.

Reality is a really hard thing.
That's why I love books, and movies, and TV shows (though admittedly, the only tv shows I like are cartoons and Criminal Minds)
That's the weird thing about me. for things I love, movies, cartoons, and especially books, I get so invested, so caught up that I never want them to end. when the characters are tired, I'm tired. when they're thirsty, I'm thirsty (in one book I read, the main character was lost in a desert during one part. I drank so much water while I was reading that, it was ridiculous.) The point is that I would gladly give everything away right now if I could live in the fictional world of my choosing.
I want to live out my life in a world of adventures and magic and dragons! it doesn't matter what fictional world I went to as long as I didn't have to stay here.

Unfortunately, books and other media are the closest things I can get.

Which is why I love books!

the hardest part of loving these things is the end. because all of them end. and I'm left wondering, well what happened to this minor character? what happened to the dog? what's his back story? did he ever find his parents? did they ever fall in love? did they have kids? what happens next?

What. Happens. Next.

It's always terribly upsetting. and there's nothing to help it, except to watch it again. or read it again. and again. and again. until the story is mine and I know every minute detail. until I know every emotion like it was my own. and then I move on to the next movie or book that's waiting for me. and I do this same thing over and over and over again. waiting for it to somehow be okay. waiting for MY turn.

I have no patience for things I don't love though. I can make myself read them or watch them, but I won't like it. If I have to watch a movie I'm not enamored with, it seems like it lasts a lifetime. Books that I don't like (Little Women, I'm talking to you) drag on and on. it takes me at least twice as long to finish, if I don't quit it entirely (or put off until further notice/ indefinitely)

I guess the point of this post is to say that for me, reading and watching something is all or nothing. and it's everything to me. I would probably go insane if I couldn't disappear into a book for hours upon hours at any point in my day. I'm not saying I'm not already insane. I'm just pointing out that I would probably become unstable and would have to be put away for my own good.

Also, there's this: Get over yourself adulthood, I'll never give up my cartoons!

I like them so much more than anything live-action, you see. cause the further I get away from reality, the more I like it.

ta ta, mes amis.

I'm a procrastinator.

It's terrible, but here we are.
I put absolutely everything off until the last minute.
Take right now for instance, I have a group meeting that I have to go to tomorrow to put together our group paper for communications class. have I started on my section? no I have not. Have I thought about starting it? several times. but because it's difficult to write about and "I have LOADS of time. If I can't write 2 paragraphs in my 5 hours of free time before I have to go to the meeting tomorrow, I'm doing something wrong."

I always have some excuse for not doing things right away. 

And it's not even just difficult things that I procrastinate on. I have a portfolio due in my fiction writing class next week. I find fiction difficult, but right now it's pretty simple cause I pretty much just have to revise. but have I even started it yet? no. of course I haven't. Cause I'm a terrible procrastinator.

Sometimes, it's not even work that I procrastinate on. sometimes, I just don't eat cause I'm too lazy to make food. who procrastinates on eating? this is madness!

Anyways, I'm really stressing out about this paper. But I'm still not going to write it yet.

Maybe I'll get my act in gear soon. probably not.

Ciao!

Fridays Are For Sleeping. . . Apparently

If you know me, you know that I don't sleep real well. I'll often get only 3 or 4 hours of sleep on a school night. I don't know how these things work for most people, but for me, as the week goes on, I get progressively more tired and by the time I get to the weekend, I'm so exhausted that I sleep for a day.

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration.

let's take this past week as an example. I started off Monday tired already cause I stayed up all night before school (cause this no sleep thing is a terrible cycle). I was really tired, but it tried my best to stay up absolutely as long as possible. It wasn't all that long. I probably went to sleep around 5 pm. and then i woke up at around midnight or so, unable to fall back asleep. typical. around 5 or 6 am I finally get tired enough to fall asleep. I get to sleep for a couple of hours before I have to do the whole thing over again.

Thursdays are always the worst. I have all of my classes then, so I don't get to fall asleep early. My last class ends at 8 pm so I have to stay up at least that late. Somehow, I managed it. and then when I got home, I took a shower and ate (cause for once I put food as a higher priority than sleep) and I finally got to sleep around 11. That's pretty early for me considering that when I'm not going to bed at 5 pm I'm usually going to bed at like 4 am.

So, surprisingly, I sleep through the night. I woke up at around 9am. I was all "yeah, maybe I'll get on a normal sleep schedule and not hate myself all next week. I made breakfast, read some of my book, had lunch.

I started feeling tired again around 2 pm

I resisted as long as I could. I ate my lunch and tried to keep myself occupied. It seriously didn't work.

I ended up falling asleep around 4 pm

And I slept
and slept
and slept.

it was nearly 2 in the morning when I woke up.

So yes, I almost slept through the entire day of Friday.
and the worst part is, after being awake for about 15 minutes, I felt like I could sleep some more.

So. . . yeah. I'm a little annoyed with sleep at the moment. and I've been up since 2 in the morning. I'm glad I have 3 day weekends though. it allows me to have about the same weekends as other people because every week my entire Friday is sacrificed to sleep.

So. yeah.
Goodnight. :)

Random book discussion 1: The Red Pyramid

Okay, I'm a loser. I accept this as a fact of life. I'm into books that almost 21 year olds just shouldn't be into. For instance, I'm totally into the whole Percy Jackson thing. Percy Jackson and the Olympians? great. Heroes of Olympus? perfect. so when I heard about Rick Riordan's other mythology series about the Egyptian gods, I was all on board.

I started reading the first book in the series this evening. It's called The Red Pyramid. I'm currently about halfway through, and I don't want to sound harsh, but I really hate it. The plot is great it has a lot of potential. but the characters. god. the two main characters are named Carter and Sadie. for reasons that haven't really been explained, they were raised apart. They are both envious of the other.

Sadie lives with their grandparents on their mother's side in London where she complains because she can't fit in. apparently people asking where your dad is when he's a world famous Egyptologist is a difficult thing to live with. as is explaining that your mom is dead. seems pretty simple to me really. She's envious because Carter gets to live with their father.

Carter gets to travel the world with his father. He's envious because Sadie gets to have a normal life. Carter doesn't get any real kind of education and is constantly in danger because his father is on the run from a group of Egyptian magicians. He kind of gets the short end of the stick in my mind. they're constantly traveling and Carter never has a chance to really BE any place. he never gets to have any friends or make any memories. His whole life is what he can carry in one suitcase that can fit in an overhead compartment on an airplane.

So the story starts off with Carter and their father getting Sadie for their one day visit out of their two whole days visitation time for the year. and already I don't like Sadie. She's a bitch. she thinks she's so much better than her brother. and she's constantly making fun of him. and it only gets worse throughout the book!

Once they discover their powers she's like automatically good at them and Carter struggles. and she's like "haha. you suck!"

Usually, I'm all for strong female characters. but I fucking Hate Sadie.  She has no redeeming qualities. And come on Rick! it seems to me like you made your main character (I see Carter as the main character) suck! If he doesn't get substantially better than Sadie (or at least shut her smug ass up) by the end of this book, I'm dropping the series. and That is not something I do lightly.

P.S. I know nobody that actually reads this will know or care what I'm talking about, but I had to get this little rant off my chest and I couldn't find any discussion forums about The Red Pyramid. I'm sure they exist, but I didn't really want to look for them very much.

And another thing! nobody ever explains a thing to these kids! the Percy Jackson had this problem too. The adults all know what's going on but they never explain it to the kids. to try and spare them I suppose? but then they send these kids into these dangerous situations with next to no knowledge about how to deal with their situations. it seems counter productive. and since nobody ever explains it to the kids, the reader doesn't know either. we're left in the dark knowing that someone knows but isn't telling us. I hate that.

I may do more book-y things like this in the future. It depends how I feel about books I read.

Ta-ta
Citrina

to E or not to E

Okay, so for the longest time I've been all "no, I'm probably never gonna get an e-reader. It's hard on my eyes to look at a lit up screen for a long time and I like paper books, you know?" but I have books on my computer that I read and it's getting so inconvenient to have to sit at my desk when I want to read them. Especially because oftentimes I'll sit and I'll read them until I finish. That's a long time to sit at my desk! sometimes 8 hours. that's hard on me in the first place since I prefer to read in bed. There's nothing I like more than a free day in bed where I can just read all day and finish a couple of books.

But when I only have the books I want to read on my computer, I have no choice but to spend my entire weekend at my desk. let me tell you, it's hard on my back and my eyes. I've had to resort to wearing my glasses when I have to be on the computer. It stinks.

And the worst part is that I KNOW there are no real reasons for me to be reluctant to get an e-reader. I'm just so into real books that I feel like I'm betraying them, which is a ridiculous notion. If I got an e-reader it wouldn't mean that I love paper books any less, I would just have more options for my reading. I could read any book. literally. any. book. now, I can only read books I can find, which let me tell you is becoming fewer and fewer.

My bookshelf is going to shun me.

I'm going to wake up one morning and it will have turned completely around to face the wall. It will feel betrayed and I will feel horrible.

But I just want to read my Goddamned books in bed. Why is this a big deal?

I don't know but I feel sick just thinking about getting an e-reader. but I really think that one will make my reading life better.

Anyway. I'm done with this weird rant thing. I'm gonna ask for a kindle paperwhite for my birthday. I'm gonna feel terrible and I'm gonna gain a bunch of weight by drowning those feelings in rootbeer (or Dr Pepper) and whiskey. and probably some form of chocolate.

and I'm gonna read my Percy Jackson books in bed and no body will be able to do a god damned thing to stop me.

Alright. Bye.

Adult things

If I ever manage to get a boyfriend (which I'm assured will happen sooner or later), and then if I ever manage to land myself a husband (which I'm also assured will happen), I'm not sure where I'll go from there.

I'm essentially a very selfish individual. If it ever happens that I love someone enough to agree to marry them, I'm not sure I'd be able to share that person with a child. I'd probably end up depressed as hell feeling unwanted and unnecessary. and what if that love ends? I don't want to bring a child into a nasty divorce (or perhaps even worse, string along a loveless marriage). and what if I have a kid and neglect it, like my parents. parenting is for the rest of your life. you can't just give up on your kids once they can kind of look after themselves. I'm not sure I could handle that.

On the one hand having children would be cool and things. like it's a mini you and you can shape it and love it and comfort it. but on the other hand, I would have a hard time with the vomiting and crying and pooping it does.

I'd be one of those no-nonsense moms. you are not going to fucking throw a temper tantrum in this store or I will put you in the box of shame. and don't you dare try to put that candy in the cart. and don't even get me started about holidays. my uncle and I frequently talk about my future because I've been tasked with his well-being when he gets too decrepit to take care of himself. he assures me that he and my future husband (whomever he may be) will make my life hell during Holidays. I replied to him that there will be no nonsense while I'm cooking or cleaning. any other time it will be fine. as long as it's not at the dinner table. and I have full rights to throw my cheap dishes (that he got me for christmas this year but one of the bowls was missing) at them and order them into the garage so they can make me something that will make me not mad at them.

My uncle says I'm going to be a ball-buster of a wife because I catch his mistakes and point them out to him. he almost knelt on the table leaves as we were cleaning up from the holidays and after he was done wrapping them up I said "that was a good decision you made in not kneeling on those." I watch people do what they're doing. If they make a mistake, depending on the gravity, I might or might not tell them right away. but I will always acknowledge when someone makes a wise decision. I think I'm very reasonable in the tasks I expect men to do.

Anyway, My uncle doesn't really like children, because most children are "little shits" (though he said that he will like mine should I have them, based almost solely on the fact that they would be mine. and because they would be mine, they wouldn't be little shits). and actually, I agree. I don't really like children. but the one thing that's keeping me from saying "nope never ever ever gonna have kids ever" and getting my tubes tied right now is that comforting a scared child has always kind of been something I've wanted to do. I don't really remember a whole lot of my mom. It will be 7 years since she killed herself this May 14th, and I don't really have a whole lot of memories left from my childhood. but one memory that I do have is of my dad going on a rampage in mine and my sister's room, cleaning it (throwing everything in a garbage bag and throwing it away). I was really scared and I remember my mom holding me, real comfortingly.

I've been told before that I make up some of my memories. so this may or may not even be a real memory, but it doesn't really matter. because of that memory, I've wanted to be able to comfort a child. and for various other reasons that I don't really want to go into right now, I'd prefer to not adopt if I were going to want children someday (although if I were going to adopt I would probably go for a brother and sister of around 6 or so, lets skip the poopy diaper stage if we can yeah?).

And this may sound strange coming from a girl who currently doesn't want kids at all, but if I'm gonna go through the trouble of pushing a baby through my vagina, I want to get it all done with as soon as possible and have twins. a boy and a girl. and as they grow up I want them to learn different languages. I want them to know at least 3. Obviously English would be their first language. and then I would want them to have another language in common, but one that neither I nor their father knows. siblings need to be able to have some sibling secrets from their parents. and then I would want them to each have another language that's just for themselves. so they can have some independent thought and keep some secrets to themselves.

Maybe that's unrealistic, but I think it would be good if possible.

I also like to think I'd be strict on entertainment and cell phones. It would be books in my home- reading out-loud before bed, story making games.  Those are the kinds of things I did as a kid. at first it was a chore, but as soon as I found out that a higher reading ability wasn't something to be embarrassed about, it was the one thing I was proud of. family movie night would be a thing and maybe some tv on weekends, but a home full of book lovers is what I will cultivate. There's no need for tv when you have books aplenty.  and they wouldn't have cell phones until they drive unless they have some after-school activity that requires them to travel or something. It's just not necessary before then.

Okay, this is a really long post to say that I don't want kids, but if I ever do happen to want them I'll want twins, a boy and a girl.

P.S. I'm terrified that I'm gonna end up an old maid. (that's such an archaic term, but it completely encapsulates my fear.) I don't want to grow old alone.

I Wish I Were Religious

Religion is a lot of things for a lot of people. For some people, it may be what their whole lives are about. For others, like myself, religion is an annoyance in life that must be tolerated because of how pervasive it is.

Needless to say (though I will still say it), I don't understand the religious fervor all that well. In my opinion, religion is a crutch that people use when they want someone to blame for the bad parts of their life. "God has a plan for all of us" and all that. I sincerely do not subscribe to that idea. Not to mention I find it a little far-fetched.

Religion can also offer good things, like a solid moral code. Many people take this code too far, or pick and choose the parts they want to believe in (ever heard of a very religious gangster? I have). This moral code is definitely a good thing, extremists give it a bad name, but the foundation and idea of this part of religion is solid. But a lot of people don't need religion to have a solid moral code now. Mostly you just need a conscience and some common sense. I, for instance, am an atheist. I don't believe in any sort of god or higher power. But I have a very strong morality and I refuse to let other people sway my morals.

Morals aren't why I wish I was religious. It's more of the first reason I talked about. I wish I thought there were some higher being that was pulling all my stings to lead me to where I was meant to be. Life is a scary, scary thing and I'm at kind of a really difficult part. I'm almost out of school. I'm in this area where one foot is in the real world and the other is still protected. I'm terrified of what will happen to me once I'm all on my own in the real world. If I believed there were someone out there, looking after me and listening to prayers, I'd be praying all the time "please push me in the right direction." and it might make me feel a little less lost, a little less out of control in this big scary world.

Many people would hear that little confession I just made and say "well then you do believe in a god." or "well then it's easy, just put your faith in god" or something like that. But it's not that easy. I'm not even entirely sure it's possible. Once you don't believe in god, there's no way to recover that. My faith is set firmly in science. I admire the religious for their god.

Most of all, I think I'd like to say grace. My family isn't religious, so we never say grace or anything like that. but I think it's a marvelous idea, being thankful for the food you have every single day. I don't think you even necessarily have to be religious for it, it just gives people a good reason for it. If I went home right now and suggested we say grace before a dinner, I would get strange looks and maybe a few laughs. but it seems like a good idea to say "I'm really grateful that we are together and we have food for this meal and for the love we share." Is that such a bad thing? to be grateful for the things we have that make our lives easier? for the people we love that are in our lives?  I don't think so. I think it's a very nice idea.

The world we live in is one where people often take those things for granted and I think it would be nice if maybe just once a day we could be thankful for the things we have. Most of us do it on Thanksgiving anyway, and we don't have to make it particularly religious. why can't we just do it every day?

But then again, maybe we don't need to say it out loud. maybe if we just think about everything we are lucky enough to have, it would be good enough. maybe I just feel like I need to be able to acknowledge this wonderfulness that I have even if somethings in my life aren't great. especially if things aren't great. Maybe the worse things you have in your life, the more you need to acknowledge the good things. the more you need to say out loud "I'm really grateful I have this in my life." so people can hear you and they can think about it too.

Maybe religion doesn't need to be a part of it. Maybe I don't actually want to be religious. life would still be scary. I still wouldn't know what is going to happen to me. nothing would actually change except the social acceptability of being able to be thankful for what we all have. . . I don't know.

Enough of this weird rant.
"I'm really grateful to live in a time where I am allowed to go to college and that I have the means and the desire to do so. I'm grateful that my family is supportive of me and that I have the few friends I have. I'm grateful to have food in my pantry and my refrigerator. I'm grateful that I have a dependable vehicle and a means to fill the tank with fuel. I'm grateful I have a warm home and a warm bed (creaky as it may be). and I'm grateful for you, whoever you are, if you decided to read this."

Citrina