Archive for January, 2013

Take Two: Apparently it is possible for one’s cat to literally take one step onto a keyboard and just erase about a whole page worth of text. Seriously? She is lucky I love her more than everything….I just sighed, asked her nicely to stay off my keyboard, and cried a little. Hahaha. Sigh.

Sooo…once again… In case anyone has been kept up at night, plagued by questions such as, “What is her favorite book????”, have no worries. You can sleep well tonight! In other words, in case anyone actually cares, here are some of my favorites. Just so I can keep up the façade that I’m really important and special, I will do a literary round and then a lightning round of random stuff. Anyone reading: Let me know what your favorite book/trilogy/poem/poet/etc is 🙂 I’m always on the lookout for new stuff to read!! P.S. I am not sure how to underline on here, so I am just leaving the title punctuation out…I want to be fair, so I’m not using any if I can’t properly do book titles, haha.

Literary Round:
Favorite Stand Alone Book: The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo. I have read a few of his books, and Brida is also a favorite, but The Alchemist just touched me really deeply. It is just one of those special books.

Favorite Adult/Regular Trilogy: It is by Galen Beckett, and the first one is called The Magicians and Mrs. Quent. So, so, so good. It is like Pride and Prejudice meets fantasy…what’s not to love? I think it has some original ideas, and the characters really come to life. I couldn’t get enough, and I was deeply saddened when I had finished reading them all.

Favorite YA Trilogy: I love the Matched Trilogy by Ally Condie…however, the Mortal Instrument trilogy by Cassandra Clare has to win. I read that the ones that came after the original trilogy were not as good, so I was scared to try them…so I think of it as just a trilogy. Love the plot, love the characters. I’m looking forward to seeing if they screw up the movie or not.

Favorite Stand Alone YA book: YA is so my guilty pleasure. I am kind of cheating, because the book I’m naming is part of a trilogy, and the whole trilogy is awesome. That being said, the first is just superb. It is called The Amulet of Samarkand by Jonathan Stroud, and it is also known as Book 1 in the Bartimaeus trilogy. So, so funny…absolutely hilarious, in fact. Very original, I think. I credit my sister with finding this one, and I thank her for letting me read it 🙂

Favorite Fantasy Series, or, Favorite Adult Trilogy that turned into multiple books so now it is a series?: The Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop. I read the second one first, not knowing it was part of a trilogy…and that was when I was in 8th grade, I believe. Bad idea, because they are actually quite violent and sexual. However, I was blown away. I have never loved characters more than I have loved Bishop’s characters in this universe. When she kept writing books in the same universe after the original three, I couldn’t resist. Even though people were saying they weren’t as good, I didn’t care or agree…I was just thrilled to keep reading about my favorite characters 😀 So, while I don’t normally read violent things…I was so happy I stumbled upon this trilogy/series/whatever.

Favorite Poet: Edgar Allan Poe. That being said, I also love his short stories. I don’t really have a favorite short story writer…but I like reading fantasy compilation books, which have multiple stories by different authors. I actually typically don’t read many short stories. So I will just put down him as favorite short story writer, too.

Favorite Poem: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. I’m not even sure why, after all these years. But I am in love with this poem, and I have been for about 7 years now. I could recite it for a long time, and I might even still be able to. I am proud of that.

Second Favorite Poem: Haha…I have a lot of favorite poems, so I will settle at stopping at second fav. The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Also, Loreena McKennit sings a somewhat shortened version of this poem, and it makes me cry every time. Beautiful story, and so sad.

Favorite Playwright: I really do not read a lot of plays. That being said, my answer is Eugene O’Neill. I was introduced to him in a college course by a really great professor, and I ended up doing a whole semester on him for my graduation class. (I chose him do a bunch of papers on him, because we could pick any author we wanted.) In. Love. If I would have been born a century earlier, I would have been one of his wives, haha. If you ever read about him or know about him, you will think I’m crazy. But minus being an alcoholic and minus sailing around the world and such, I think he and I were/are/? a lot alike. I have a lot of sympathy for him.

Favorite Play: A Long Day’s Journey into Night by Eugene O’Neill. Some people think it’s boring. I think it’s brilliant. There are a couple of quotes from there that just make my brain go *explode*

Favorite genre: Fantasy

I can’t think of anymore…so…Lightning Round!!! Woohoo!! 😀 AKA, un-literary things. And for the music…well, music is my life as much as books and words are. So chances are there will be at least a top five with the understanding that chances are there are about 20 more that could go there, but I am just forcing myself to pick five at the moment.

Favorite Band: Evanescence, Three Days Grace, Kamelot, Nightwish, Korn, Goo Goo Dolls (yes, that’s 6…kill me)

Favorite Singer that isn’t in a “band”: Loreena McKennitt

Favorite genre of music: Alternative-ish

Favorite “guilty pleasure” genre: Celtic

Favorite movie: Lord of the Rings trilogy

Favorite Disney movie: Tangled

Favorite animal: Cats

Favorite vegetation (right word?): Trees

Favorite celestial body: The moon

Favorite three colors: Green, silver/grey, pink

Favorite season: Autumn

Favorite addiction: Facebook, sadly enough

Favorite drink: Orange juice

Favorite food: Too many, haha.

And I can’t think of anymore…unless it’s getting to: Favorite idea of mine: Instead of replacing my nose stud with a hoop because I wanted a hoop, I just got another piercing and stuck a hoop in there. But I think I’m just tired and running out of things to ramble about 🙂


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My Belief is Gone

My Belief is Gone

The sunrise on the screen
Drops down, in reverse-fast-forward,
And I’m moved to wonder if it’s the
Sun or the sky that bleeds so–
Profusely, shamelessly, the
Raw vermillion deepening and spreading
To cross the clouds and trickle
To the ground, the grass, the
Barren patch of dirt where I sit,
The memory of you locked in place, tickling my
Lips, and your ghostly “Vale”
Burning my ears, my hair singed
Where your beautifully calloused
Hands tangled in the roots,
Deep, twisting, pulling as you
Screamed, moaned, as I
Rocked you back and forth
Like a stray dumped in the
Sordid alley, the dying light
Brightening your cheeks
In shades of flames,
Licking the edges until my eyes
Are dizzy, unable to distinguish
The edges of skin, night, life,
Maybe we were dying but for
Just that moment our eyes stared
Into each other’s, and we really
We saw each other and knew
It was true, we would die alone
With lamentations of meaninglessness
On our cracked lips, regrets
Pouring from hemorrhaging hearts,
The blood couldn’t heal us,
Couldn’t soothe us,
But we could die in that moment
Of that perfect sunset,
Turned upside down as we
Dropped heavily, nothing of one
Touching the other, nothing profound
Stuck in our throats.

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That Day on the Shore

That Day on the Shore

How we met—
That fateful day—
Her eyes like the ocean,
Savage but bright,
And lips so full but
Pale as foam—
Dead long before I came.

With her mind,
She lived in the sky
And only journeyed down
When she had to.
I would talk for hours,
But she didn’t hear most,
So far up and away, away
With the stars.
So I would listen,
And listen for hours,
Trying to discern by her
Beautiful eyes
What tales of majesty
She beheld this time.

And the days flew by;
I hardly noticed the months;
Season by season,
And I noticed it none,
So caught up in her hair,
Such shining mahogany.

Oh, how they all talked,
And whispered, and mocked,
But I let them all drift away.
For I had caught my princess,
Or perhaps she had caught me,
And the world had simply ceased
To be.
I wanted to join her exclusive reality,
But she claimed no vacancies—
“Why?” she one day asked,
Her voice small and broken.
“You know nothing of me,
Nor I of you.”

“Well, that is not true,”
I countered, strong and sure.
“I know from your mouth that
You are so sad,
And I know by your hair that
You’re wild and free.
And I know by your skin
That you’re graceful and sweet,
And I know by your nose
That you’re sensitive and kind.
And I know by your eyes
That you’re smart and imaginative,
But that you’ve been hurt,
And you want to run away.
But you have run away,
For so many days,
For so many months,
And I cannot claim you,
But the ocean has.
And one day the ocean,
Well, she talked to me,
And I to her,
Like co-conspirators.
And the ocean finds our
Engagement perfection,
And I couldn’t agree more.

“And as for me,
Well, I’ve told you everything,
And you can discover it all again,
Because I won’t be leaving you,
For now, or for ever.”

And she looked at me amazed,
And the sadness just washed away,
Away and forever with the last wave.
Then the ocean was still,
And she took my hand…

And away we wandered,
Footprints in the sand.

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Life Burns!

Okay, I cheated on that one. I am currently listening to “Life Burns!” by Apocalyptica, from their album “Apocalyptica” (according to iTunes…I thought it had a different name, but what do I know?). I love them…I love their instrumentals, and I love when they have famous people sing with them… They really have’t done anything I don’t like.

But that isn’t really what this blog is about. I mean, I could go on about my musical taste, but I’m sure everyone that reads this cares about zero much about that 😉 I have weird musical tastes.

But life does burn. I guess in a way that goes with what I was going to write about. The title should have been “Don’t Judge.” I was just reflecting upon myself, which is something I do 24/7, but even moreso on these days I’ve been home all alone for hours. There was just terrible weather here, ice/rain/sleet/everything bad, and I was called off work yesterday. So here I am. Reflecting.

I have not even been married a year, but the anniversary of our first date is rapidly approaching. A lot of people stop remembering that once they get engaged and especially married. Not me, haha. It was January 30th…or 31st. So my memory isn’t the greatest. I think it was the 30th because his mother’s birthday is the 31st, and I’m pretty sure I said our dating was my early bday present to her, haha. So anyways…what’s this about not judging?

Well, I used to do it. I mean, we all do it…but there was one subject in which I did it pretty badly. People getting married. Not that they were married…but how quickly they got engaged, or worse, how quickly they got married. What happened to me? We dated on January 31st, 2011…engaged on my birthday October 3, 2011…married May 18, 2012. Yep. I fell victim to my own judgement. Go me. Like I don’t judge myself enough as it is, right?

Except wrong…I was totally making excuses for myself in my own head! Now, I don’t want this to come off as sounding like it was a mistake. It wasn’t…I mean, so far it isn’t. But still…I defended myself while still criticizing others. Bad me. And I follow a few people on youtube, and one had an older video about how she didn’t know why people had to get married so quickly and so young. And that got me thinking, too.

I have reasons. I think the few I’m sticking with are: I wanted to; I wanted to live with him; and what’s the difference if we do?

1.) I wanted to. When I get something in my head, you may as well just do it. Or I may as well just do it. Instead of torturing myself. Because if something gets in my head, and I can tell which ones will go this way…it’s going to end up happening. I walk into a mall and want to get another hole in my ear. I can debate the whole way around the mall, but I know I’m walking out with one. I had wanted to get my nose pierced for *years*…like, I knew I *wanted* to. But I didn’t do it, didn’t do it…didn’t know where to go, didn’t think my parents would like it, decided every one else already did it and I didn’t want to be like everyone else…on and on. First year of college…got a nose stud. Decided at one point I wanted a hoop. Well, I was like…why change it? I like my stud. So I just got another nose piercing with a hoop in it. I wanted my hair to be red. It was highlighted in 8th grade, and I have periodically dyed it off and on the rest of my life. Once my boyfriend proposed to me…I wanted to get married. We set a date in August, I think, originally…but it wasn’t the date I wanted. It wasn’t the day I wanted. It wasn’t really the setting I wanted. So I changed it. He didn’t really care. It’s a long story, but he was for it when it came down to it, haha. I wanted it on a Friday. It was on a Friday. Etc.

I wanted to live with him. You might be thinking, stupid reason. Not so much. I had lived on my own in college, and I had lived with roommates. Two at separate times, to be exact. I wasn’t too sure that I could handle living with someone else, especially someone that was a boy. However, his parents/family are very, very religiously conservative (Christian). No way in Hell were we living together until we were married, without his getting basically disowned. Because believe me, if we had just moved in together somewhere, it would have quelled my need to just get married, oh, say, tomorrow. Just quelled it, but still. I wanted my own place, he wanted his own place…my parents were all for it. They thought we should make sure we could live together before marriage. Smart thing, actually, I think. But oh, no. God no. Can’t have that. I’m not saying anything about my sex life or my thoughts on that or anything, but let’s face it…I’m 95% sure the reason his mother especially didn’t want us living together before we were married was because she didn’t want us having sex out of wedlock. Well, let’s face it…people can have sex at any time of the day, basically wherever they want, haha. Not saying we did, just saying…that’s a dumb reason to not want your child to move in with someone else.

So what’s the difference if we do? It might be the same argument for not rushing into a marriage. We’re in a committed relationship; we love each other; we go well together; we want to spend the rest of our lives together…so what’s the difference? Getting married is not going to change anything…other than the fact that apparently his family won’t judge us.

Here’s the thing: I think my judgement came from the fact that I told myself repeatedly when I was younger and a teen that I would never have a boyfriend, let alone get married. Why? Because I hated myself and had lots of issues. Still do, but there you go. So I think I secretly hated everyone else that was happily with someone else. And some people do rush into things, and then those things don’t work out. I guess you have to take it case by case. But that is my lesson to myself, and perhaps to some other people, to not group judge. I mean, maybe some people would say I wasn’t ready for marriage, but here we are, and I’m getting through everything okay. I would actually argue with those people that I would never be ready for marriage, haha.

So anyways, I am trying to make a conscious effort to not judge people, and this is one small area. I think we should just all love each other and be happy and dance and sing about kittens and unicorns and sunshining sprinkly joy 🙂 🙂

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Sad Post

Okay, so I didn’t really want something like this to be on my blog, but I have to post this. And on top of that, I didn’t want this to be the first one after a long absence, but I don’t think anyone really reads these anyways, so I guess it doesn’t matter, lol. But I have studied some psychology, and I went to a counselor for a few years a while ago, and I know that a good way to help yourself get through something is by writing it down. Whether someone else sees it or not, just the action of putting it somewhere other than your head is some kind of therapy. So I’m hoping this helps, because this is something that has been plaguing me for almost a year now. And I just can’t let it go. If there are people reading this, I think a lot will be like–really? This is what’s upsetting you? But I think there will be some people who understand. And I should probably start off by stating: I am a very emotional, sensitive person. I sometimes don’t come off that way, because I’m very shy, and I generally have a fear of people, and I hate being around a lot of people…so I don’t typically share a lot about myself personally unless I know you very well…but I am very, very sensitive. Secondly, I love animals. Like, I think I love animals way more than humans. That being said, here is my story that still haunts me off and on, whenever, for whatever reason, it just pops back into my head.

I know someone (and I’m keeping these details vague, because it doesn’t matter) who has a barn, and because of that, people think it’s okay to drop their unwanted cats off at this place. The problem with this is, while this person doesn’t *hate* cats, they don’t think it’s necessary to do anything other than feed and water them, and let them stay in the barn if they want. Now, to a lot of people, that’s great. And I’m glad they at least do that much. But I am a strong advocate for getting animals spayed or neutered, because my mother and her mother and my other grandmother all have rescued strays their whole lives. So every year, some would move on, or some would die (I guess…I haven’t known this person more than going on three years now), and others would be fine…and they would breed. There are neighbors in the area also, and they have cats that wander…etc. So anyways, the first year I really knew this person, there were two litters of cats. Now, seriously, I LOVE cats. Like…love them like most people love their children. I just really bond with cats, moreso than other animals even. And I got really close with these kittens, despite my mother’s warnings of I was just going to be upset if something happened to them.

She wanted to try to get them spayed, and I wanted to, too, but I didn’t have tons of money, and I was living with my parents at the time, and they had tons of strays they were caring for already…and I didn’t want to upset this person, because (again for reasons we won’t be really specific about), I was in a position that I couldn’t really upset this person. It would have been bad for my life. So it was awkward. But I named them all, and they seemed to be doing well…

Well, it went on from there. The one neighbor had a really mean dog they let run, and it ended up grabbing a couple of the cats. And I was crushed. So that started my really trying to get them out of there. A few others just disappeared. I like to think someone else took them in, but I still don’t know to this day. But there were three of the kittens that were left, and I was going to take them, because I finally had a place to live of my own. This was almost a year from when they were born, and I was getting ready to get married.

One was very healthy looking and normal size for her age. One was male and had been somewhat sickly off and on. The third was also a female, and she was *tiny*. Almost a year old, and once I took her to the vets, I found out she weighed only 2.4 pounds. Anyways…it came down to that I was waiting on having the house better set before taking them to the vets and then straight home, but someone who knows the person who had the cats said (and by this person saying this, I knew it was serious) that the male cat was very sick. Like, lying on the porch looking like he was going to die. I freaked out. I called the vet we use, a great lady, and they said get the cat and bring him in. So I actually got two of them and took the one to the basement of where I would live (it was finished and warm, etc), and I took this cat to the vet.

This is the thing that haunts me. I promised these cats over and over again that someday they would live with me. That I would take care of them and love them forever. And this cat (I called him Metheus) was so sweet. And he was so, so sick. But I held him, and I told him that I would help him get better, and we would live together forever. LIke, he just stared me in the eyes the whole time as I was talking to him. Mom went with me. And the vet said how bad he looked, and she took some blood, and was running tests. Mom and I were in the room, and I was just holding him. He was looking at me, and I said, “I am going to take you home with me really soon.”

And the vet came in and said, “I’m sorry, but he tested positive for leukemia.”

And my heart just shattered. I’m crying now as I write this. She said he was so sick now, that it would just be harder on him to let him go. There was nothing they could really do. I just started sobbing, and I felt so bad because I could tell that the vet and her assistant were crying, too. And I said to have him put to sleep so he wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I couldn’t hold him while they did it. And I feel so guilty about that, but I just thought I was going to be sick at the thought of it. And even worse, I couldn’t even bury him. I was so, so upset. Just cried the whole way home. Called my fiance, and just cried. Mom had to bring him out in the carrier, and I touched him one last time when we got home and said goodbye. Mom buried him for me in a spot back in our yard that is away from our house, but it’s where other animals we have had are buried.

I actually just had to stop for a minute because I got so sad. And I just can’t get over it. The other two cats are still with me now, nearly a year later, and they are doing great. The healthy female is just a little fatter and very happy, and the little female has put on quite a bit of weight and is also very happy. I wouldn’t say she is quite “normal” cat size, as she is a little stunted length wise, but she is about 7 pounds and definitely looks and is healthy. And I just love them. But I cry every time I think of the other cats, especially Metheus. I just feel like I let them down. Like I lied to his face, and he believed me, and then I let him die. And I have had other animals die, but I guess these circumstances are just so different that I can’t let it go. He was basically the first animal I really had to “save,” and I failed. And every so often, I just think about it. His face pops into my head, and I just feel heartbroken all over again. The one night it hit me about 10 PM, and while my husband was sleeping, I went out onto our couch and just cried. I was up until 1 because I was so upset.

Now, I suppose I should also say that I’m also prone to anxiety and depression (like, dealt with major depression before)…so I know this isn’t a normal reaction (for it to be going on this long). I just feel so guilty. I also think this contributes to my fear of having children. What if I have a child, and God forbid they are sick (like, really sick)…I mean, this is how I react to a cat I never actually owned…how would I handle something like that? I don’t know…I think I’m done. Here’s hoping this helps. But provided how upset I am now thinking about it, probably not. If I ever get money and time, I should probably see another psychologist :/

As an end note, I had both of the other cats tested for leukemia, and by some miracle they were both negative.

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