Promises Promises

In the beginning of this blog, I promised to post every day. Well, I have failed on my end so far. But at has been a hectic few days. I had a fistulagram, and my Dad is preparing for surgery on Tuesday. Lucy is completely ignoring me, now that Dad will be home the next 6 weeks. I was supposed to take her to see Santa at Petsmart today, but I guess that's been changed without warning to tomorrow. It's a beautiful crisp late fall day. Not a cloud in the sky, but it's freezing. Tonight, there is a full lunar eclipse, the last one until 2014. With the clouds as clear as it is at the moment at 10:05 a.m., I am hoping that it is clear enough to see the lunar eclipse tonight. I've been trying to find online certain rituals or offerings for a lunar eclipse on a full moon, but with no luck. I do know that we can charge our crystals or gemstones even with a lunar eclipse on a full moon. The sad thing is, I seem to have misplaced my amethyst. I am really hoping it turns up. Anyway, I seem to be babbling yet again. There's nothing really to talk about, except maybe the fact that Lucy seems to be ignoring me. Every time Dad is home, she is obsessed with him. I tried taking her picture, and she runs from me. I don't know what I've done wrong. It hurts my feelings though. Oh well, I guess this is enough babbling. Until next time, dear readers. Blessed be )O(

Children are expensive!

I don't have children in the traditional sense. But I do have children. I have a daughter named Lucy, a black and white, lab/collie mix. I also have a son named Bernie Puff, a four legged, scaly bearded dragon. I have had Lucy for almost a year, and I have had Bernie Puff just over a week. He was my Christmas present to myself because I had an empty tank and didn't want fish. Anyway, as I researched bearded dragons, after I bought him, I never realized how much goes into their care. I was told they were so easy and cheap, a 10 year old could take care of them. What I failed to realize, was how expensive he would be. I have been underfeeding him, so I went to a supplier online, and though cheaper in essence, I still had to pay for shipping. I also had to buy special vitamins for him because he needs lots of vitamins, including calcium. Now I have a question for you, dear readers. If I am willing to shell out money for a dog and a bearded dragon, without complaining, then why on earth are there parents out there that act like they are giving their kids the world when they ask for a toy? I love my animals if they were my children. I will never get to have children of my own, so they are the closest thing I will ever have. I will do anything to keep them healthy and happy. Why then, do some parents of actual humans, refuse to do this?

Something Not So New

I have mentioned before, that I started writing when I was 15. What I failed to mention about that was, I started out writing poetry. I thought I was good at it, until my own sister said something about my poetry in front of someone who's opinion about my writing I valued. She said it was "simple". Simple is one of the worst things somene can say if you're a poet. Poetry, at least in my 15 year old brain, isn't simple. It's putting your deepeunst, sometimes most dark parts of yourself and basically putting them into verses. Like a song. No songwriter wants to be called a "simple" song writer. No writer, whether it be journaling, poetry, or song, wants to be called simple. This is what http://www.dictionary.com says about the word, "simple":

sim·ple

   /ˈsɪmpəl/ Show Spelled [sim-puhl] Show IPA adjective, -pler, -plest, noun

adjective

1.

easy to understand, deal with, use, etc.: a simple matter; simple tools.

2.

not elaborate or artificial; plain: a simple style.

3.

not ornate or luxurious; unadorned: a simple gown.

4.

unaffected; unassuming; modest: a simple manner.

5.

not complicated: a simple design.

Now, anyone who has read Shakespeare, Poe, Bronte, or any of the greats,  will tell you, their works are not simple. There are classes at Universities all over the world that talk solely about the complexities of said writers about how hard their works are hard to decipher. Mind you, Shakespeare was around during the whole "Where art thou" time of the English language. I guess what I am wanting to figure out is, how can I become a complex writer? Or better yet, do I need to actually become a compex writer? I want to have followers who can relate to what I have to say. But I also want to stretch my writing abilities to places I haven't been since I was a teenager. I want to be a poet again. I just hope I can find the words.

What To Watch

This Saturday evening, like many, many, many before it, is one of sitting on my bed, in my pajamas, watching movies. Not that I mind. I love movies. In fact, I have been thinking of using this blog to do a few "reviews" so to speak. I took a movie criticism class once, and decided as a writer, I'm not that mean. I remember each section had to choose 2 movies. I knew another girl who was in the other section. Her class, and I kid you not when I tell you this, chose the movies, "Legally Blonde" and "Clueless. What 2 movies did my class chose, you may ask? We chose, "Shawshank Redemption" and "The Green Mile". Seriously. Two of the most compicated, heart wreching movies ever made. I did fall in love with Morgan Freeman thanks to that class. Of the two, we only had to pick one to critique. The hard part was, we had to watch it at least 3 times per draft. And for the final we had to do a complete 3 page review. Now I know 3 pages is nothing for a research paper. I once wrote a 6 page paper in 2 hours and 45 minutes. But, that is yet another story for another time. Anyway, I ended up watching that movie 11 times throughout the quarter. 11 TIMES! That was in 2003, and I have yet to watch either movie since. I bet you're wondering, "Why is this chick babbling about movie reviews??" Well, one reason is, I have no real topic for today's blog. The second reason is, I am in a movie rut. I haven't seen a new movie that I actually couldn't get enough of since I saw "The Tourist". All I can say about that movie is, Johnny Depp is delicious. Angelina Jolie is equally delicous. So I sit here on my bed, in my pajamas, at 7:08 p.m. on a Saturday night, wondering what movie I should watch. But then again, dear bloggers, I do have a weeks worth of "Whose Line Is It Anyway" reruns on the DVR. Maybe just a good belly laugh is in order.

A New Reflection

I've been learning as of late, that I have an inner strength I didn't know was there before. All my life I have been made to feel, by only a few, weak. I used to go to church. A LOT. I read my Bible, I went Sunday, Wednesday and every time they had a function. But, no matter how welcoming they were, I still felt different. I felt closer to what I percieved as God, outside under the tree in the backyard, or looking up at the moon, or even getting hugs and kisses from my dog Lucy. As I watched others at my church, I felt I was watching something I shouldn't be a part of. I even had a panic attack one Sunday and had to leave the Sanctuary. So, I went searching. Searching to see if, what I percieved as faith was real, or something that had been impressed on me because of family tradition. Mind you, my mother stopped going to church when I was a child, except the occassional times she would go. But, every time she went with me, she had something to criticize. The preacher the way he preached. The people they way they swayed and danced to the music. Even the music itself. My mother is a great woman, and I love her. But she is one of the reasons I started searching. In 2009, I was in the hospital. 5 surgeries, 4 different stays. All in a span of 58 days. I almost died, because they my blood pressure was too high and they shot me with a medicine that brought my heart rate down to 14 bpm. I didn't die, but I quit breathing 3 times and woke up 5 days later wtih a difibulator on my chest. The day I had surgery, the pastor of the church I was going to and his wife, came to pray with me. I have this cousin, who is very sweet and means well, who would come pray for me every time Mom would conveniently be home resting from taking care of me. He prays "in tongues". Weird thing was, every time he prayed for me, I got worse. In a morphin stupor, I recall telling my sister I did not want him praying for me anymore. So, he stopped coming. I don't know if by choice, or if she said something. Let's fast forward, to fall 2009. I was depressed, still recovering, and lonely. So I found a site called WireClub, and started to at least interact with people virtually. It made me feel better. In fact, one of the best friends I had was an Australian satanist. I also met many Wiccans, and other pagans. The christians I met, though few and far between, were only on that site to spread what I percieved as hate. The pagans embraced me. So I started researching Wicca and Witchcraft. I found so much of myself. I would read things, then remember things that would happen to me as a child, and it all connected. Kind of like a pentagram. Now I know the pentagram has some negative connotations connected to it. But, if you know geometry, all a pentagram is, is a five pointed star. I found what I was looking for. I found my "Spiritual Parents", whom I call The God and Goddess, in everything. The moon, the sun, the rocks, the grass, the birds, everything. That's kind of where I was leading in my blog from yesterday. The earth became a live sanctuary, and I finally found what I was looking for. I have to hide myself from many, especially my own mother. She has her suspicions, I'm sure. She and my sister, though lovingly, guilted me out of my path. But my spiritual sister, Raven, stood by me anyway. After the Goddess showed me a dream, Raven was right there, to embrace me back on my path with open arms. Has anyone from my christian church called to see if I'm even alive? Nope. But Raven, through texts, emails, Facebook, and packages, reassures me everyday that she is by my side no matter what. Has changing my path changed me? Spiritually, yes. I am more alive spiritually as a pagan. But has it changed who I AM? No. I am still the same goofy, stubborn, courageous, loving, hopeful, faithful girl I was a christian. The only thing hat changed is the reflection of myself that I see in everything else.

Beauty In The World

I have noticed there are so many people who go through life, and never EXPERIENCE life. Life surrounds us. In the trees, birds of the sky, flowers, clouds and rain(or snow). It even surrounds us in art, music, culture and books. It took the creativity of a human life to create the music we hear, the art we appreciate, and the cultures that make the world what it is. There really is beauty in the world. Sure, there are PEOPLE who are a mess, but this world is still beautiful. There is beauty in all things, if we just take the time to look for it. I have let certain circumstances the past couple years, along with the influences of others, cloud my view of the beauty that this world has to offer. It sounds cliche, but we are here only a short time. I know that more than I care to. So, I am making this a pledge to myself. A pledge to stop letting the negativity of others and the negativity of circumstances, cloud my view of the beauty that is LIFE.

First Snow...Not Quite

Every year around late November, early December, we receive what some call, "The first snow of the year so far". It's happening as I write this post. On the street, on the news, even in my own house, you can hear the mumblings of "I hate when it gets cold every year!". How easily we forget the first four months of the year! I have seen it snow here in late April. But every late fall/early winter, it's like everyone goes into shock when it snows. Myself, I love the snow. I love cold weather. I hate being hot. Which is odd considering I am an August baby, and ahfire sign(More on that in another post). I heard on the news that tomorrow when we wake up the snow will cover our cars, but won't stick to the ground because it is still too warm. There's something magical about snow. It glistens in the sun like diamonds. It can be freezing cold, but the beauty of the falling snow, the sun shining down on the white ground with the blue sky above, makes winter seem so magical. For me, it feels as if there is something awakening in me that is dormant the rest of the year. It's hard to explain. When most want to hide in their houses and not go anywhere(Like my mother), I wake up on a cold winter's morn ready to go out and conquer the world. If only I could feel I can conquer the world the rest of the year. Maybe with this blog, my conquering spirit will awaken once again and I won't have to wait for the first signs of winter to feel alive.