I'm back- I was traveling on Friday, to visit my son and daughter-in-law in Texas. We had to change planes in Detroit- I have never seen an airport terminal as long as that one! We came in at Gate A72 and had to go to gate A43 for our connecting plane. Thank goodness for moving walkways (or, as Ken put it, flat escalators)- we rode FOUR of them on our way down to the gate. Ken says we walked/rode at least a quarter of a mile. The flight from Pgh to Detroit was awful- the plane was packed and small and I hate flying and I have claustrophobia....the flight to Detroit was much better because the plane was only half full and I had the two seats to myself. And I was by myself because the flight attendant very apologetically moved me from the exit seating row because of my ... size. They were very nice about it, though, and put me in Economy Comfort. Ken could have moved up with me but he knew I would appreciate the comfort of having the two seats to myself. He's the best!
Now, for today's writing:
Did you have a favorite or least favorite teacher? Why?
I had a lot of “least favorite” teachers- the ones who stick in my mind are my first grade teacher, third grade teacher and then one teacher in high school who taught history. Their teaching methods had a lot in common- they either yelled all the time or they mocked students, including me. I was too young in elementary school to think through rationalities about those teachers and their behaviors; to me they were simply mean and I was afraid of them. The third grade teacher was actually a very good teacher and 40-something years later I still remember her drilling us through the times tables. But she was a yeller and she didn’t hesitate to yell your name and shame you in front of your classmates.
By the time I was junior in high school I had acquired reasoning skills and the ability to think things through and look for answers or rationale. My history teacher was very harsh and would say really nasty things out loud in class- but only if she felt you were being lazy or not “working to your potential.” I do not understand why people believe that public mockery is the best way to encourage better performance (and I continue to see this in the working world as well), when a private word that is positive will most often produce the desired results. I must have been a lazy student in her eyes because she picked on me a LOT. Even when I did something correctly or went the extra mile on an assignment, she would crush me by saying something like “you should have been doing this all along,” or “sure, you did it this time but what assurance do I have that you will do this on all future assignments?”
Reflecting on this as an adult, I have to wonder if the screaming teachers were frustrated or tired or burned out. My first and third grade teachers were both gray-haired and probably nearing retirement. My 55-year old self has only my childhood memories of gray hair and wrinkles, and so I have always thought of them as older/old women. My adult self can give them the benefit of the doubt, now that I have lived to this ripe age and experienced frustration and the fatigue of being in my fifties. And because I have only childish memories, I cannot know for sure why they were screamers.
My high school history teacher is another matter. I was 16 and my memories are sharper, perhaps because of the emotions attached to them. I have never liked being mocked (who does?) and I take things personally, often too personally. I can be devastated by harsh words, even today, although I have gotten better at hiding it. My teacher was a nun in the 1970s, when so many nuns were leaving their orders and venturing out into the world. My teacher was around 40 and for those nuns, I think it was really difficult to decide what to do. Many of the younger nuns had only recently left “the world” and could return to it more easily. Nuns in their forties in the 1970s entered convents in the 1950s, before the upheaval of Vatican II. Their path to sisterhood was very structured and in some cases even child-like, in that the nuns were seen and treated like children with their superiors telling them what to do, how to dress, how to make their bed, how to pray and how to live. Like military training, that had to be very difficult conditioning to break. This is just speculation, but I wonder now if my history teacher felt trapped in a position because she no longer had the ability to make her own choices or lacked the confidence to take her own steps. Or maybe she was just a mean, miserable person who used negative reinforcement because that was how she was taught. Teachers like her taught me not just history or French or chemistry; they taught me the value of positive reinforcement, especially for impressionable children and teenagers.
Ironically, my favorite teacher was also a nun. She was about the same age as the history teacher but she was a much more positive and open person. She was my AP biology teacher and when time permitted, she often allowed us to question her about what it was like to become a nun and live as a nun. She was frank and honest and we loved her for it. We could tell her anything about our lives and she would offer encouragement and hope. She told us just before spring break that she was leaving the convent but would be returning to us as a lay teacher. That took courage, because I’m certain some of the less loving sisters on the faculty would be as harsh with her as they were with us, and indeed this was so. I only learned that years later during a high school reunion. She took those harsh criticisms and rose above them, and turned them to positive. She was truly a great teacher, because she gave us life skills as well as AP biology, and I loved her dearly.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Thursday, March 5, 2015
A Bit of Fiction
Today's post is a fictional account, based on a creating writing prompt.
Source of this prompt: Donovan, Melissa (2014-01-02). 1200 Creative Writing Prompts (Adventures in Writing) (p. 6). Swan Hatch Press. Kindle Edition.
It’s the first day of sophomore year of high school. Being a sophomore is only marginally better than being a freshman. At least you’re an upperclassman, but sophomore year is the year you spend waiting to turn sixteen so you can learn to drive. It’s going to be a long and boring year; at least that’s what Sarah and Drew think. They live in a small town and everyone knows everyone else. No one leaves and no one new ever comes along. Half of Sarah and Drew’s teachers taught their parents in high school, because their town just doesn’t change.
Homeroom started at 7:30 in room 202. Sarah and Drew took seats together in the back of the room, mostly so they could mock some of their classmates without being overheard. The room was noisy with the sound of teenage voices calling across the room to one another. Drew looked up at the wall clock; it was 7:37 and Mr. Ransom, their homeroom teacher, was late. After a few more minutes of banter, the students heard the sound of the doorknob turning and the click as the door was opened. They settled down, waiting for Mr. Ransom, but instead were surprised to see a thirty-something woman enter the room and cross to the teacher’s desk.
Sarah, Drew, and the rest of the students stared at the tall, angular woman. No one had every seen her before. She had short blond hair and large, dark eyes that seemed to see everyone at once. She moved gracefully as she stepped behind the desk, turned, and wrote her name on the white board: Mrs. Jessie Strait. They were still staring as she turned around and surveyed them all. Each student felt as if she was staring right at them and no one else. It was only a moment but it seemed like forever, and then Mrs. Strait spoke with a low voice. “I am Mrs. Strait. Mr. Ransom has retired and I am your new homeroom and History teacher.” She did not smile at all and Sarah swallowed nervously. Who was this woman? Why hadn’t anyone ever seen or heard of her before? As Sarah listened to Mrs. Strait talk about homeroom rules and expectations, the class began to buzz as kids traded whispers and speculations. Sarah saw Mrs. Strait’s lips tighten just before she slammed a fist down onto the desk. In the stunned silence that followed, Mrs. Strait said, “I expect silence when I speak. It is a measure of respect. Do not make me ask you again.” Sarah and Drew exchanged glances and when the bell rang for first period, there was a speedy but quiet rush for the door.
Sarah and Drew met up again at 4th period lunch, and as expected, the air was full of questions, and rumors. The room quieted just a bit as Mrs. Strait walked past the cafeteria and after she passed, the conversations picked up again. One student said that Mrs. Strait had already assigned detention to four students. Another said that she had caught someone smoking out back and had them suspended immediately. Drew said, “Marcus told me that Mrs. Strait dropped a book and swore…but it wasn’t in English!” “She swore?” said Sarah. “What language was it?” Drew leaned eagerly toward Sarah and whispered, “It sounded like Russian!” As Drew sat back, pleased at imparting this news, Sarah could only shake her head. How would Marcus know that it was Russian? No one in their little school spoke Russian. She was about to say that to Drew when she heard someone at the next table say something that stilled the entire corner of the room. “She’s in witness protection. My uncle works for the FBI and I overheard him telling my mom this morning. She’s a Russian defector!”
On the first day of school, two best friends discover a frightening secret about one of their new teachers.
Source of this prompt: Donovan, Melissa (2014-01-02). 1200 Creative Writing Prompts (Adventures in Writing) (p. 6). Swan Hatch Press. Kindle Edition.
It’s the first day of sophomore year of high school. Being a sophomore is only marginally better than being a freshman. At least you’re an upperclassman, but sophomore year is the year you spend waiting to turn sixteen so you can learn to drive. It’s going to be a long and boring year; at least that’s what Sarah and Drew think. They live in a small town and everyone knows everyone else. No one leaves and no one new ever comes along. Half of Sarah and Drew’s teachers taught their parents in high school, because their town just doesn’t change.
Homeroom started at 7:30 in room 202. Sarah and Drew took seats together in the back of the room, mostly so they could mock some of their classmates without being overheard. The room was noisy with the sound of teenage voices calling across the room to one another. Drew looked up at the wall clock; it was 7:37 and Mr. Ransom, their homeroom teacher, was late. After a few more minutes of banter, the students heard the sound of the doorknob turning and the click as the door was opened. They settled down, waiting for Mr. Ransom, but instead were surprised to see a thirty-something woman enter the room and cross to the teacher’s desk.
Sarah, Drew, and the rest of the students stared at the tall, angular woman. No one had every seen her before. She had short blond hair and large, dark eyes that seemed to see everyone at once. She moved gracefully as she stepped behind the desk, turned, and wrote her name on the white board: Mrs. Jessie Strait. They were still staring as she turned around and surveyed them all. Each student felt as if she was staring right at them and no one else. It was only a moment but it seemed like forever, and then Mrs. Strait spoke with a low voice. “I am Mrs. Strait. Mr. Ransom has retired and I am your new homeroom and History teacher.” She did not smile at all and Sarah swallowed nervously. Who was this woman? Why hadn’t anyone ever seen or heard of her before? As Sarah listened to Mrs. Strait talk about homeroom rules and expectations, the class began to buzz as kids traded whispers and speculations. Sarah saw Mrs. Strait’s lips tighten just before she slammed a fist down onto the desk. In the stunned silence that followed, Mrs. Strait said, “I expect silence when I speak. It is a measure of respect. Do not make me ask you again.” Sarah and Drew exchanged glances and when the bell rang for first period, there was a speedy but quiet rush for the door.
Sarah and Drew met up again at 4th period lunch, and as expected, the air was full of questions, and rumors. The room quieted just a bit as Mrs. Strait walked past the cafeteria and after she passed, the conversations picked up again. One student said that Mrs. Strait had already assigned detention to four students. Another said that she had caught someone smoking out back and had them suspended immediately. Drew said, “Marcus told me that Mrs. Strait dropped a book and swore…but it wasn’t in English!” “She swore?” said Sarah. “What language was it?” Drew leaned eagerly toward Sarah and whispered, “It sounded like Russian!” As Drew sat back, pleased at imparting this news, Sarah could only shake her head. How would Marcus know that it was Russian? No one in their little school spoke Russian. She was about to say that to Drew when she heard someone at the next table say something that stilled the entire corner of the room. “She’s in witness protection. My uncle works for the FBI and I overheard him telling my mom this morning. She’s a Russian defector!”
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
What Do You Crave and Why?
So- what do I crave and why? Lots of things flashed through my head but they were things I want. Being the English major that I am, I decided to look up the definition of crave. It means to feel a powerful desire for (something). Based on that, a “crave” is much more than a “want.” I want to be at the beach. I want my family close. I want a healthy family.
The thoughts that sometimes consume me are probably what I crave. I crave a normal 55-year-old woman’s body, not a body with herniated disks and a mangled ankle. I crave the normal aches and pains of middle age, not the constant chronic aches in my back, ankle, and now right knee. That poor knee took most of my weight for each ankle surgery, probably a total of 9 months. No wonder it hurts all the time and now it, too, has arthritis, just like my lower back and ankle.
This will sound odd but I crave passion. Somewhere in the last few years I lost the passion I had for getting out of bed each day and doing whatever I was to do that day. I don’t know what my passion is. I am cautiously optimistic about writing, because I’ve always wanted to do it, but at the same time I’m afraid that if I invest myself in it and fail, I will really crash.
Last week I returned to Community Bible Study, a women’s bible study that was the center of my life for 10 years. I had to give it up 12 years ago to go back to work. Sitting in the pews at North Park Church last week felt so right and so good. I think I have been craving a return to CBS for many years. When I was at CBS I was a leader as well as a student. I felt connected to wherever I was serving at the time (children’s worship leader, homeschool teacher, core group leader and more). I had a close bond with a group of ladies that I remain close to even years after leaving. I guess I’m saying that I crave the kind of love and acceptance and worth that I received as a member of CBS. I’m not saying that I don’t get that from my husband or kids- far from it! But there is a special love that comes from a group of women who are meeting with one purpose- to study the Word of God and share it with others.
Really, isn’t that what everyone craves? Love and acceptance based on how God sees you, rather than how your boss or co-worker or hubby or the driver in the next car see you? No wonder I felt as if I was finally at home. I was back at the place where I was loved for being Donna.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Writing, Writing, Writing.
I'm going to be doing a lot of writing. One of my writing exercises is a writing prompt and I'm going to try to publish them each day. Today's prompt:
My name is Donna. There is a story I think I remember from my childhood, but in truth I don’t know if it is real or if I concocted it. The story goes that when I was born, the first child and a girl, my father wanted to name me Thomasina, which my mother nixed (thank goodness). She apparently wanted to name me Nicole, after my father, Nicholas, but he didn’t want that, saying that they would call me Nicki, which would be too confusing (that was HIS nickname). If this really happened, I suspect he wanted to reserve the name Nicholas (and Nicky) for the son he hoped to have one day. Being a good Italian man, he proposed Donna, which in Italian refers to “lady,” the Madonna being the exalted lady of the Catholic church. Again, I don't know if that is a true story but it's the one I'm sticking to.
Dad did get his Nicholas, but not until the second son. The first son was named Gregory, and the name Gregory doesn’t appear anywhere else in our family tree. I have three brothers; Gregory, Nicholas, and Paul and we soon shortened them to Greg, Nicko, and Paul. My father had a highly (to me) annoying habit of calling me Don, and when he would, I would say, “NA. DonNA.” He would occasionally call me Na because he knew it annoyed me.
I hated being called Don because it was a boy’s name and I was a girl, the ONLY girl of the offspring of Nick and Irene. I didn’t even like the name Don for a boy and certainly didn’t want it as a nickname for myself. I have always discouraged people from using it as a nickname, though every once in a while someone will call me Don. Sometimes I ask them not to call me Don but if I don’t want to hurt their feelings, I don’t correct them.
I have always wanted a nickname but since the shortening of Donna led to Don, I couldn’t come up with one that was based on my name. When I went to college and met the other girls on my floor (Dravo 4 or D-4), I tried to have them call me DC, my initials, but that didn’t work. I find it a bit ironic that I'm married to Kenneth/Kenny/Ken and gave birth to Daniel/Danny/Dan and Caitlin/Caitie/Cait.
I have a memory, which again might be my imagination, of being told that my name was to be Donnamaria (one word) but that the person who filled out my birth certificate put Maria down as my middle name. If that is true, then Donna would be a nickname for Donnamaria. Yes, I am reaching.
I think I was named for a popular actress named Donna Reed, who starred in her own TV as Donna Stone, housewife extraordinaire who raised a son and daughter while being married to a pediatrician and performing wonderful feats of laundry and cooking. I wonder if the movie Pleasantville was a parody? The show ran from 1958 to 1966 and I believe that Donna was a popular name during those years. You certainly don’t find many young Donnas today. I looked up popular baby names for 1959 and Donna was #5 on the list behind Mary, Susan, Linda, and Karen. No Thomasina. Imagine that.
How Were You Named?
My name is Donna. There is a story I think I remember from my childhood, but in truth I don’t know if it is real or if I concocted it. The story goes that when I was born, the first child and a girl, my father wanted to name me Thomasina, which my mother nixed (thank goodness). She apparently wanted to name me Nicole, after my father, Nicholas, but he didn’t want that, saying that they would call me Nicki, which would be too confusing (that was HIS nickname). If this really happened, I suspect he wanted to reserve the name Nicholas (and Nicky) for the son he hoped to have one day. Being a good Italian man, he proposed Donna, which in Italian refers to “lady,” the Madonna being the exalted lady of the Catholic church. Again, I don't know if that is a true story but it's the one I'm sticking to.
Dad did get his Nicholas, but not until the second son. The first son was named Gregory, and the name Gregory doesn’t appear anywhere else in our family tree. I have three brothers; Gregory, Nicholas, and Paul and we soon shortened them to Greg, Nicko, and Paul. My father had a highly (to me) annoying habit of calling me Don, and when he would, I would say, “NA. DonNA.” He would occasionally call me Na because he knew it annoyed me.
I hated being called Don because it was a boy’s name and I was a girl, the ONLY girl of the offspring of Nick and Irene. I didn’t even like the name Don for a boy and certainly didn’t want it as a nickname for myself. I have always discouraged people from using it as a nickname, though every once in a while someone will call me Don. Sometimes I ask them not to call me Don but if I don’t want to hurt their feelings, I don’t correct them.
I have always wanted a nickname but since the shortening of Donna led to Don, I couldn’t come up with one that was based on my name. When I went to college and met the other girls on my floor (Dravo 4 or D-4), I tried to have them call me DC, my initials, but that didn’t work. I find it a bit ironic that I'm married to Kenneth/Kenny/Ken and gave birth to Daniel/Danny/Dan and Caitlin/Caitie/Cait.
I have a memory, which again might be my imagination, of being told that my name was to be Donnamaria (one word) but that the person who filled out my birth certificate put Maria down as my middle name. If that is true, then Donna would be a nickname for Donnamaria. Yes, I am reaching.
I think I was named for a popular actress named Donna Reed, who starred in her own TV as Donna Stone, housewife extraordinaire who raised a son and daughter while being married to a pediatrician and performing wonderful feats of laundry and cooking. I wonder if the movie Pleasantville was a parody? The show ran from 1958 to 1966 and I believe that Donna was a popular name during those years. You certainly don’t find many young Donnas today. I looked up popular baby names for 1959 and Donna was #5 on the list behind Mary, Susan, Linda, and Karen. No Thomasina. Imagine that.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
It's been awhile since I've blogged. I've been really, really busy with work. And when I come home from work, I spend time studying things that will make me more effective at work.
Have you ever seen a "quick-start" guide? You know- the inserts that come with a new gadget, that give you the short-cut to start using the gadget without having to read the manual (if you even GET a manual). I think people need a quick start guide. Here's mine.
1. I hate pepper. I like salt. Yes it is bad for you. But I prefer salt and I do not like pepper, which restaurants seem to be using by the gallon to cover up the fact that they're removed salt from their foods. I can't even get a bowl of spaghetti at Olive Garden anymore without having it smothered in pepper. I have very mild hypertension which is under control.
2. I like gadgets. Don't judge. Some people spend money on shoes or clothes or jewelery. I spend it on gadgets. And often those gadgets are useful.
3. I am obese. I know this. I do not need you to point it out. I do not need you to look at everything I put into my mouth. I know that it is not healthy and I know that many of my aches and pains are caused in part by the obesity. I have gained and lost several people in my lifetime. I am stable at my current weight. This is where I end up every time I try to lose weight.
4. If you are thin, do not hang around me and talk about how fat you are. I don't want to hear about your diet, and I really don't want the not-so-subtle hints that I should join the office weight-loss challenge.
5. If you recently lost a lot of weight, please do not appoint yourself as the person who will convince me to join Weight Watchers and LA Fitness. You are not an expert about me- you can only claim expertise about your own weight loss. Do not tell me about the wonders of exercise. You do not live in my body and you do not know what hurts. I will say this- my knees were fine until I started using an exercise bike. Now I can add bad knees to the bad back and bad ankle.
6. I do not like talking on the phone. I tend not to talk to very many people on the phone. Don't take it personally if I don't call a lot or spend a lot of time on the phone. I don't even have a house phone anymore, just a cell phone.
7. I hate confrontation. I will, however, confront you if you verbally attack or in any way go after my children. If you attack me, I will most likely curl up into a figurative ball and cry a lot. I don't like getting zinged and I won't zing you. It's not in my nature.
8. I am not the same person I was when I left home at 18 to go to college. Why do you think that I am? Have you grown and matured? Guess what- so have I.
9. I'm a Twilight fan. Have been for years. Again, don't judge.
10. I am a nice person, a fun person, if you get to know me. I have my quirks-don't we all? I'll accept yours and you accept mine.
Here ends my quick start guide.
Have you ever seen a "quick-start" guide? You know- the inserts that come with a new gadget, that give you the short-cut to start using the gadget without having to read the manual (if you even GET a manual). I think people need a quick start guide. Here's mine.
1. I hate pepper. I like salt. Yes it is bad for you. But I prefer salt and I do not like pepper, which restaurants seem to be using by the gallon to cover up the fact that they're removed salt from their foods. I can't even get a bowl of spaghetti at Olive Garden anymore without having it smothered in pepper. I have very mild hypertension which is under control.
2. I like gadgets. Don't judge. Some people spend money on shoes or clothes or jewelery. I spend it on gadgets. And often those gadgets are useful.
3. I am obese. I know this. I do not need you to point it out. I do not need you to look at everything I put into my mouth. I know that it is not healthy and I know that many of my aches and pains are caused in part by the obesity. I have gained and lost several people in my lifetime. I am stable at my current weight. This is where I end up every time I try to lose weight.
4. If you are thin, do not hang around me and talk about how fat you are. I don't want to hear about your diet, and I really don't want the not-so-subtle hints that I should join the office weight-loss challenge.
5. If you recently lost a lot of weight, please do not appoint yourself as the person who will convince me to join Weight Watchers and LA Fitness. You are not an expert about me- you can only claim expertise about your own weight loss. Do not tell me about the wonders of exercise. You do not live in my body and you do not know what hurts. I will say this- my knees were fine until I started using an exercise bike. Now I can add bad knees to the bad back and bad ankle.
6. I do not like talking on the phone. I tend not to talk to very many people on the phone. Don't take it personally if I don't call a lot or spend a lot of time on the phone. I don't even have a house phone anymore, just a cell phone.
7. I hate confrontation. I will, however, confront you if you verbally attack or in any way go after my children. If you attack me, I will most likely curl up into a figurative ball and cry a lot. I don't like getting zinged and I won't zing you. It's not in my nature.
8. I am not the same person I was when I left home at 18 to go to college. Why do you think that I am? Have you grown and matured? Guess what- so have I.
9. I'm a Twilight fan. Have been for years. Again, don't judge.
10. I am a nice person, a fun person, if you get to know me. I have my quirks-don't we all? I'll accept yours and you accept mine.
Here ends my quick start guide.
Monday, November 19, 2012
What's Next?
Members of my family are considering a 12-step program for me; the Twilight Saga movies have come to an end and Stephenie Meyer hasn't written a Twilight book since Breaking Dawn was published in 2008. The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner doesn't count because it's merely a backstory for Eclipse. The first movie came out in 2008 and the last installment, Breaking Dawn Part 2, debuted on November 15th. So, now what?
The Twilight books aren't exactly intellectual property but they're not meant to be. The writing is decent but not perfect (try to find a grammatically perfect book today; not possible). The stories are what hooked me. True, pure love. Sacrifice. Loving what's not necessarily right for you, but still pursuing your dream. The value of life. The value of the soul. Morality. Good triumphing over evil. It's not War and Peace but it isn't meant to be that, either. It's epic but not pretentious.
I've taken a lot of grief from people over the years for my so-called Twilight addiction. I will admit that I have been obsessed to varying degrees since the books were published and the movies filmed. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't have a crush on Edward Cullen (or RPatz), I don't want to find a vampire, and I don't want to live forever. What I want, and what Twilight provided, was an escape that didn't rot my brain, upset my psyche, or leave me unaffected. To those of you who laughed at me (and are probably still laughing at me)...shame on you. I suppose you have nothing that you use to escape reality?
A lot has happened in my life in the "Twilight years" and some of them were pretty hard to take. Twilight was released in 2005 and a year later I had a very bad fall down the stairs that led to months of surgery and rehab that ultimately failed. In 2008 my son joined the Air Force, and while I will always be proud of his decision, it hasn't always been easy to be the mother of a military man. In 2010 I was laid off from a job I loved. I then spent 5 months at a job from hell before moving into healthcare IT (which I do love). My daughter grew up and moved out. My husband began traveling 3-4 days per week for his job. I had a 4th and final ankle surgery in 2011.
The Twilight universe was my escape. Bella was a klutz and a mess but she had an underlying stubbornness that I could relate to. She was attractive but not a supermodel, she was intelligent without being a nerd, and she was the product of a failed marriage, but with parents who were still friends and who still loved their daughter. Lots of kids with divorced parents go through a lot of trauma; Bella was loved and loved her parents and had a good relationship. Lots of us with divorced parents wish that they could say the same.
Stephanie Meyer did a great job of writing about a love that was pure and that could not be sexual (while Bella was human). Edward was a tortured soul who found his soulmate- something we all hope to do. And yet when he found her, he knew that his presence put her life in danger, every single day. He tried to leave her, to keep her safe, but their love was too strong and he had to come back, no matter the cost. He was concerned for her soul and wanted to keep her safe and human. I was surprised at the total lack of religion in the books, given that Stephanie Meyer is Mormon, but I was also pleased that Bella and Edward waited until they were married to have sex, and when she found herself pregnant she chose life, even at the probable loss of her own life.
My past five years haven't been all bad, of course. I earned a Master's Degree, saw my children grow into amazing adults and take their first adult steps into the working world. A beautiful, amazing, wonderful girl has entered our lives by marrying my son. I work in a great place, and love my job. I'm finally in my dream house.
But we live in a scary world. Our country is heading toward a total loss of morals. Common sense is gone. Half of America has their hand out, waiting for someone to plop some money or other entitlement into it. The Middle East is just waiting to explode. The European economy is a mess (and a harbinger of our future). Can you blame me for wanting to escape for awhile?
Yeah, I'll miss Twilight. I've read the books so many times that I can probably recite entire blocks of text. Ditto for the movies. I own the books in paper, Kindle, Audible and CD format. I have Twilight action figures and T-shirts. I even write a little fan fiction, although I don't publish it anywhere. I have had a hard time finding something else that captivates me the way that Twilight did. A lot of vampire books are too gory, and fantasy books with dragons and princesses really don't interest me. I love sci-fi but some of the newer science fiction is weird. I've tried dystopian fiction and don't much like it, either. I've been plowing through the Rizzoli and Isles books and some other mysteries and fantasies, but I don't think I will ever again find a book series that captivated me the way Twilight did.
I am sad. Don't judge me.
The Twilight books aren't exactly intellectual property but they're not meant to be. The writing is decent but not perfect (try to find a grammatically perfect book today; not possible). The stories are what hooked me. True, pure love. Sacrifice. Loving what's not necessarily right for you, but still pursuing your dream. The value of life. The value of the soul. Morality. Good triumphing over evil. It's not War and Peace but it isn't meant to be that, either. It's epic but not pretentious.
I've taken a lot of grief from people over the years for my so-called Twilight addiction. I will admit that I have been obsessed to varying degrees since the books were published and the movies filmed. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't have a crush on Edward Cullen (or RPatz), I don't want to find a vampire, and I don't want to live forever. What I want, and what Twilight provided, was an escape that didn't rot my brain, upset my psyche, or leave me unaffected. To those of you who laughed at me (and are probably still laughing at me)...shame on you. I suppose you have nothing that you use to escape reality?
A lot has happened in my life in the "Twilight years" and some of them were pretty hard to take. Twilight was released in 2005 and a year later I had a very bad fall down the stairs that led to months of surgery and rehab that ultimately failed. In 2008 my son joined the Air Force, and while I will always be proud of his decision, it hasn't always been easy to be the mother of a military man. In 2010 I was laid off from a job I loved. I then spent 5 months at a job from hell before moving into healthcare IT (which I do love). My daughter grew up and moved out. My husband began traveling 3-4 days per week for his job. I had a 4th and final ankle surgery in 2011.
The Twilight universe was my escape. Bella was a klutz and a mess but she had an underlying stubbornness that I could relate to. She was attractive but not a supermodel, she was intelligent without being a nerd, and she was the product of a failed marriage, but with parents who were still friends and who still loved their daughter. Lots of kids with divorced parents go through a lot of trauma; Bella was loved and loved her parents and had a good relationship. Lots of us with divorced parents wish that they could say the same.
Stephanie Meyer did a great job of writing about a love that was pure and that could not be sexual (while Bella was human). Edward was a tortured soul who found his soulmate- something we all hope to do. And yet when he found her, he knew that his presence put her life in danger, every single day. He tried to leave her, to keep her safe, but their love was too strong and he had to come back, no matter the cost. He was concerned for her soul and wanted to keep her safe and human. I was surprised at the total lack of religion in the books, given that Stephanie Meyer is Mormon, but I was also pleased that Bella and Edward waited until they were married to have sex, and when she found herself pregnant she chose life, even at the probable loss of her own life.
My past five years haven't been all bad, of course. I earned a Master's Degree, saw my children grow into amazing adults and take their first adult steps into the working world. A beautiful, amazing, wonderful girl has entered our lives by marrying my son. I work in a great place, and love my job. I'm finally in my dream house.
But we live in a scary world. Our country is heading toward a total loss of morals. Common sense is gone. Half of America has their hand out, waiting for someone to plop some money or other entitlement into it. The Middle East is just waiting to explode. The European economy is a mess (and a harbinger of our future). Can you blame me for wanting to escape for awhile?
Yeah, I'll miss Twilight. I've read the books so many times that I can probably recite entire blocks of text. Ditto for the movies. I own the books in paper, Kindle, Audible and CD format. I have Twilight action figures and T-shirts. I even write a little fan fiction, although I don't publish it anywhere. I have had a hard time finding something else that captivates me the way that Twilight did. A lot of vampire books are too gory, and fantasy books with dragons and princesses really don't interest me. I love sci-fi but some of the newer science fiction is weird. I've tried dystopian fiction and don't much like it, either. I've been plowing through the Rizzoli and Isles books and some other mysteries and fantasies, but I don't think I will ever again find a book series that captivated me the way Twilight did.
I am sad. Don't judge me.
Monday, November 12, 2012
One week later
It's been one week since the presidential election. Despite polling that suggested that Mr. Romney would win, despite news reports of record turnouts, the President won re-election, quite handily, even though 10 million fewer people voted this time as compared to 2008. This, after four years of watching the Obama administration spin and lie. Benghazi, anyone? Eric Holder? The EPA, which is killing the coal industry and will make gasoline prohibitively expensive? All of you miners, who supported Mr. Obama- do you realize that his goal is to put you out of work?
I don't want to be labeled as a conspiracy whacko, but I'm really questioning some of these election results. I find it inconceivable that so many districts in Philly voted 99% for Obama. I have heard that military votes were discarded and not counted. Republican poll watchers were tossed out by Democratic poll watchers, and some people voted in places with 10 foot high Obama posters on the wall. I realize I live in a higher-income area, but driving around, I saw 9 Romney-Ryan signs for every Obama sign. Mr. Romney was clearly, decisively the winner of at least two of the three debates. Joe Biden is a joke; Paul Ryan is a serious, considered man with a lot of wisdom. President Obama has insulted Jews and Israel and yet still won the Jewish vote. Catholics supported him despite his mandate that Catholic employers pay for medications that the Church opposes. The Obama campaign created a false war on women, and women fell for it. Does anyone really believe that Mr. Romney planned to repeal abortion and force women to be chained to stoves and pop out babies?
If it wasn't fraud, then I'm even more concerned, because it says something terrible about our culture and country. It says that people voted for Obama Claus, who gives them free stuff. Cell phones, student loans, access to housing loans that will never be paid off, food stamps, so-called free healthcare, which is not free at all. It appears that half, HALF of our country thinks that anyone who earns a lot of money owes it to the government, or to them with the government as the funnel. How did rich people like Obama, Biden, John Kerry, George Soros and others convince Americans that it is evil to be rich, and yet somehow they were not part of the evil rich? John Kerry ran for president and was clearly extremely wealthy (how many welfare recipients have pictures of themselves in a wet suit on a sail board?). Yet he denounced the evil, rich Mr. Romney and no one thought that was hypocrisy. Mr. Obama pretends to be everyman but he lives like a king. Al Gore's mansion is the size of a small town. And yet these wealthy men convinced Americans that to be rich is evil and not only should the rich be vilified; they should be punished by turning over their income to the government. If all of the wealth was confiscated, the government would still run out of money and if the wealthy cannot earn more money, there will be no more to give to the government. Do all of the entitled people think that the money grows on trees? You can't keep shrinking the number of payers in favor of the receivers. The money has to come from somewhere.
Look at Greece. It's a perfect example of the entitlement mentality that is currently gripping this country. They're just a few years ahead of us. Socialism looks great, until it runs out of someone else's money.
Did you know that full-time is now 30 hours a week, at least in terms of health insurance? Guess what- companies are going to start trimming worker's work weeks to 29 hours per week. It's not because they're evil capitalists; it's because they cannot afford to provide insurance anymore with the price of Obamacare. In the week since the election, multiple companies (including companies that support Obama) have announced layoffs. I have a brother-in-law, a banker by trade, who has not been able to find a job, in part because banks did not want to hire until they knew who the next president would be. Now that we know it is Mr. Obama, will he and all of the other people who have been on hold pending the election be hired, or will those jobs now be eliminated? I suspect it will be the latter, even though I hope and pray that it will not be.
The media covered up for Mr. Obama. They held the General Petraeus story, they held the fact that food stamps have increased enormously. They demanded George Bush's health and college records but gave Obama a pass on both. I think the media will soon get a wake up call, because now that he has been re-elected, Mr. Obama does not need them anymore. He's already refused to answer questions by the media, his former good buddies.
What does it say about our culture that several states voted to legalize marijuana and to allow physician-assisted suicide? It just affirms to me that respect for life in this country is gone.
I attended a leadership retreat last weekend and heard some demographics about the "Millenials," the generation who was born between 1980 and 1995. As a group, they don't like authority but paradoxically like big government. They believe they are entitled to free education, free healthcare, and believe that everyone else should have free stuff too (except rich people). I have two children who are part of that generation, and while they have their heads on straight, they agree that their generation is a bunch of spoiled, whiny people who are looking for the easy way out. This group, along with the 49% of Americans who receive government stuff" are responsible for the re-election of Mr. Obama. What will they be saying four years from now, when the rich have either fled or lost their money? What will they be saying in four years, when they're paying through the nose for healthcare that will likely be of lower quality? They don't want to pay off their student loans and I suspect that many of them will get away with defaulting on their student loans. I owe the government quite a lot for my post-master's certificate; I fully intend to pay my loan back and would consider it THEFT if I defaulted. This generation doesn't see it as theft. They think they are entitled. I've heard a 26 year old with an MBA say that the degree should have been free. Did they learn anything in that MBA program?
How did my generation (the parents of this group) fail so miserably? We let the school system teach them values. We listened to the educators who told us that it wasn't right of us to impose our values on our kids (but it was perfectly fine for them to do so). We sat in church and thought of ways to to appeal to the culture, and did it by watering down the truth of the Gospel. We were sheep and decided not to fight the system. We sat by and said nothing while American values were trashed. Christmas became Sparkle Season. Easter became about bunny rabbits and chocolate eggs. Crosses and creches were banned from public view. We stopped saying Merry Christmas and instead said Happy Holidays. We became so concerned with public opinion that we let the ACLU and atheists remove any mention of God in public. But we publicly defend a religion that believes it's okay to kill people for minor offenses and treat women like chattel.
I'm angry, and I'm afraid. I'm angry that Mr. Obama won. I supported Mr. Romney, more as a means of getting rid of Mr. Obama, but I'm angry that as a Pennsylvanian, my primary vote was determined for me. I'm angry that a good ole boy network is continuing to cost us a good candidate. I'm afraid for the future of this country. I'm afraid for my kids, who are trying to live moral, sensible and honorable lives alongside peers who just want free stuff. I'm afraid that American values are forever lost in a sea of entitlement. Being compassionate doesn't mean that we steal from the rich and give to the poor. Being compassionate means that we make a business-friendly culture that will create jobs and allow people to earn their money, rather than create a culture where wealth is denounced while it is also being confiscated and given to people who have done nothing to earn it. And our healthcare system isn't broken, it's the PAYOR system that is broken. Unfortunately, Obamacare will do nothing to fix the payor system but will decimate the delivery of quality healthcare. Physicians will retire. Young people will not go into medicine or nursing.
All of you Millenials- the ones who have jobs- do you get paid? Shouldn't your employer get your work for free? Do you even look at the deductions from your paycheck? How much money do you give to charity? Do you give 20+% of your income to charity? No? Mr. Romney did, that evil rich man. Don't you Millenials want to make money, progress in your jobs, be able to buy a house? It's easy to carry a sign and demand that rich people hand over their money. Do you give money? Time? Can you honestly tell me that you have no interest in earning a good living that will allow you to live a comfortable life?
I don't want to be labeled as a conspiracy whacko, but I'm really questioning some of these election results. I find it inconceivable that so many districts in Philly voted 99% for Obama. I have heard that military votes were discarded and not counted. Republican poll watchers were tossed out by Democratic poll watchers, and some people voted in places with 10 foot high Obama posters on the wall. I realize I live in a higher-income area, but driving around, I saw 9 Romney-Ryan signs for every Obama sign. Mr. Romney was clearly, decisively the winner of at least two of the three debates. Joe Biden is a joke; Paul Ryan is a serious, considered man with a lot of wisdom. President Obama has insulted Jews and Israel and yet still won the Jewish vote. Catholics supported him despite his mandate that Catholic employers pay for medications that the Church opposes. The Obama campaign created a false war on women, and women fell for it. Does anyone really believe that Mr. Romney planned to repeal abortion and force women to be chained to stoves and pop out babies?
If it wasn't fraud, then I'm even more concerned, because it says something terrible about our culture and country. It says that people voted for Obama Claus, who gives them free stuff. Cell phones, student loans, access to housing loans that will never be paid off, food stamps, so-called free healthcare, which is not free at all. It appears that half, HALF of our country thinks that anyone who earns a lot of money owes it to the government, or to them with the government as the funnel. How did rich people like Obama, Biden, John Kerry, George Soros and others convince Americans that it is evil to be rich, and yet somehow they were not part of the evil rich? John Kerry ran for president and was clearly extremely wealthy (how many welfare recipients have pictures of themselves in a wet suit on a sail board?). Yet he denounced the evil, rich Mr. Romney and no one thought that was hypocrisy. Mr. Obama pretends to be everyman but he lives like a king. Al Gore's mansion is the size of a small town. And yet these wealthy men convinced Americans that to be rich is evil and not only should the rich be vilified; they should be punished by turning over their income to the government. If all of the wealth was confiscated, the government would still run out of money and if the wealthy cannot earn more money, there will be no more to give to the government. Do all of the entitled people think that the money grows on trees? You can't keep shrinking the number of payers in favor of the receivers. The money has to come from somewhere.
Look at Greece. It's a perfect example of the entitlement mentality that is currently gripping this country. They're just a few years ahead of us. Socialism looks great, until it runs out of someone else's money.
Did you know that full-time is now 30 hours a week, at least in terms of health insurance? Guess what- companies are going to start trimming worker's work weeks to 29 hours per week. It's not because they're evil capitalists; it's because they cannot afford to provide insurance anymore with the price of Obamacare. In the week since the election, multiple companies (including companies that support Obama) have announced layoffs. I have a brother-in-law, a banker by trade, who has not been able to find a job, in part because banks did not want to hire until they knew who the next president would be. Now that we know it is Mr. Obama, will he and all of the other people who have been on hold pending the election be hired, or will those jobs now be eliminated? I suspect it will be the latter, even though I hope and pray that it will not be.
The media covered up for Mr. Obama. They held the General Petraeus story, they held the fact that food stamps have increased enormously. They demanded George Bush's health and college records but gave Obama a pass on both. I think the media will soon get a wake up call, because now that he has been re-elected, Mr. Obama does not need them anymore. He's already refused to answer questions by the media, his former good buddies.
What does it say about our culture that several states voted to legalize marijuana and to allow physician-assisted suicide? It just affirms to me that respect for life in this country is gone.
I attended a leadership retreat last weekend and heard some demographics about the "Millenials," the generation who was born between 1980 and 1995. As a group, they don't like authority but paradoxically like big government. They believe they are entitled to free education, free healthcare, and believe that everyone else should have free stuff too (except rich people). I have two children who are part of that generation, and while they have their heads on straight, they agree that their generation is a bunch of spoiled, whiny people who are looking for the easy way out. This group, along with the 49% of Americans who receive government stuff" are responsible for the re-election of Mr. Obama. What will they be saying four years from now, when the rich have either fled or lost their money? What will they be saying in four years, when they're paying through the nose for healthcare that will likely be of lower quality? They don't want to pay off their student loans and I suspect that many of them will get away with defaulting on their student loans. I owe the government quite a lot for my post-master's certificate; I fully intend to pay my loan back and would consider it THEFT if I defaulted. This generation doesn't see it as theft. They think they are entitled. I've heard a 26 year old with an MBA say that the degree should have been free. Did they learn anything in that MBA program?
How did my generation (the parents of this group) fail so miserably? We let the school system teach them values. We listened to the educators who told us that it wasn't right of us to impose our values on our kids (but it was perfectly fine for them to do so). We sat in church and thought of ways to to appeal to the culture, and did it by watering down the truth of the Gospel. We were sheep and decided not to fight the system. We sat by and said nothing while American values were trashed. Christmas became Sparkle Season. Easter became about bunny rabbits and chocolate eggs. Crosses and creches were banned from public view. We stopped saying Merry Christmas and instead said Happy Holidays. We became so concerned with public opinion that we let the ACLU and atheists remove any mention of God in public. But we publicly defend a religion that believes it's okay to kill people for minor offenses and treat women like chattel.
I'm angry, and I'm afraid. I'm angry that Mr. Obama won. I supported Mr. Romney, more as a means of getting rid of Mr. Obama, but I'm angry that as a Pennsylvanian, my primary vote was determined for me. I'm angry that a good ole boy network is continuing to cost us a good candidate. I'm afraid for the future of this country. I'm afraid for my kids, who are trying to live moral, sensible and honorable lives alongside peers who just want free stuff. I'm afraid that American values are forever lost in a sea of entitlement. Being compassionate doesn't mean that we steal from the rich and give to the poor. Being compassionate means that we make a business-friendly culture that will create jobs and allow people to earn their money, rather than create a culture where wealth is denounced while it is also being confiscated and given to people who have done nothing to earn it. And our healthcare system isn't broken, it's the PAYOR system that is broken. Unfortunately, Obamacare will do nothing to fix the payor system but will decimate the delivery of quality healthcare. Physicians will retire. Young people will not go into medicine or nursing.
All of you Millenials- the ones who have jobs- do you get paid? Shouldn't your employer get your work for free? Do you even look at the deductions from your paycheck? How much money do you give to charity? Do you give 20+% of your income to charity? No? Mr. Romney did, that evil rich man. Don't you Millenials want to make money, progress in your jobs, be able to buy a house? It's easy to carry a sign and demand that rich people hand over their money. Do you give money? Time? Can you honestly tell me that you have no interest in earning a good living that will allow you to live a comfortable life?
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