Why is there such a difference between the legal definition and the social definition of marriage?

Why is divorce so difficult but marriage can be created at the snap of a finger?

Why can’t people just say, “I want this person to be my partner, and have the legal rights and responsibilities of being my partner,” instead of having to fill out massive amounts of paperwork and pay astronomical lawyer fees?

Gah.

So, KSU requires one to be proficient up to Intermediate II in a foreign language to attain a bachelor of arts degree. I have found that I struggle mightily learning new languages. I don’t know if that is because, at 40, I never needed to learn one besides English before now, or if its because, at 40, my gray matter is becoming too soft and mushy to handle the task. Regardless, I am finding Spanish to be quite difficult… even though, if the whole process of grading were not involved, I would probably enjoy it quite alot.

Well, in my search for the right graduate school for me, I realized that most every school that has the PhD program I want requires not just one, but TWO… yes TWO… spoken language proficiencies besides English. Spoken is the key word here… no so called “dead” languages like Latin, or American sign language (which fulfills the KSU requirement, but not graduate school requirements).

Which means… I have to maintain and improve my Spanish… AND learn another one, probably either French or German if I want to study European history at all. Well, my area of interest has been far ranging, but of special note to me was Indus, Mesopotamia, Thailand, Latin America, and everything Africa. If I want to study ANY of them besides Latin America… I have to learn German, or French, or Chinese, or a combination of all of them. I don’t think I can do it!

So… if I let my issue with learning languages dictate my course of direction in graduate school and teaching, then… it is American (ALL American) history for me (in which the United States plays only an itty bitty tiny role/period of time).

Which is great… and confining all at once. *sigh*

Who’da thunk that having a cuppa joe would have emotional impact, huh?

In the last six months or so, people from the northeast Ohio area who met on Pagan Nation have been getting together once a month for “coffee.” Last night, there were a half dozen or so of us sitting around, and I thought to myself… we need this more, and our young people need this more.

We… the pagan community at large… has become even more isolated than ever before, regardless of how many advances in communication technology we’ve had in the last fifteen to twenty years. Yes, more information is available on line… as are internet communities such as PN or TPC. However, as much as many of us have claimed they do in the past, these internet communities do not replace face to face interaction and fellowship. The keep us removed from it! We are all so eclectic now that we convince ourselves that no one will ever think the way we do, so we should all be solitary to preserve our own uniqueness, and in the mean time, we are forgetting (if we ever knew) how much face to face human interaction can teach and give us.

Our young people are growing up in this insular world, thinking that this is the norm for pagan fellowship. What ends up happening is that, in their drive to fill an empty void, they get sucked in to groups or pseudocovens based on fantasy characters out of fiction novels, with no real sense or idea of this world, this plane of existence, this life.

All this from a cuppa joe last night, with some amazing humans that think vastly differently than I, at least spiritually, but with whom I find much common ground and mutual affection.

Argggghhh! I hate the spam comments!

I know I read a post somewhere in the blog forum about how to stop the damned spam comments since the upgrade, but frack if I can remember how to do it.

I may have to go check comment settings.

Arrrrggghhhh!

UPDATE: June 2, 2008.

The spammers have invaded once again. Changed comment settings to not allow any hyperlinks at all… maybe that will fix it.

The last year has been tough.

My fella, Scott, has been battling cancer. It metastasized from his throat, into his lungs. They removed the spots from his lungs, but we don’t know if they are all gone yet or not.

Also during the year, his ex-wife has been fighting cancer. Hers also metastasized. It saturated her lymph nodes… she is currently in the hospital, has been there for the last two weeks, and they have all the immediate family on standby. They didn’t figure she would last through yesterday, but she keeps hanging on.

Her last words spoken to this point were, “I love you” to her and Scott’s daughter, Katie. Katie just turned twelve last Friday. I can’t even begin to tell anyone the horror of what this little girl has been experiencing for the last year, watching both of her parents fight cancer, and then watching her mother lose the fight.

When Beth passes, Katie will come to us full time. For the last seven years or so, we’ve had joint custody of her… an equal split down the middle. Her and I have always been close… games, movies, talks, snuggles, doing hair and fingernails, that kind of thing. I gave her the menstruation talk, the sex talk, the drug talk, it’s what we do… we talk, we share.

Now, I’m going to be the only mom she has left. And, if Scott’s health doesn’t improve… I could be the only parent she has left.

I ache so badly thinking of how much she hurts.

School starts Monday.

Yes, I am forty years old, and yes, I am a student instead of a teacher. So?

Well, this week I changed my entire class schedule around. I dropped two classes at Kent campus, kind of picked up extra classes at Stark campus, and have totally screwed up my financial aid for the rest of the year. Financial aid problems = no money. No money = cellie still off, car still broke, clothes still raggedy, hair still not cut, etc.

Thats all good, though… because after this semester, I have only TWO MORE LEFT. That’s right, boys and girls, then I will have my degree, and hopefully be headed to graduate school and my PhD. Dr. Lisa… yeah, baby.

So… this semester, I am working on finishing my Spanish requirements (thank the Goddesses!), as well as American Politics. Those two classes will finish ALL of my LER’s (liberal education requirements… all my prerequisite’s not in my major, needed to graduate). In addition to those, I start my Senior Honors Thesis (yep, I’m a fairly smart cookie… a member in good standing of the Honors College as a double major in History and Anthropology, with an overall GPA of 3.67). My thesis will be about the role of religion in the formation of pre-Christian civilization… with a focus on Egypt and Mesopotamia… maybe China and India also. “The Cradle of Civilization: Rocked by the Hand of Religion?” or something like that. Anyway, I also have an independent investigation on the Shawnee tribe I need to finish, as well as in inprogress class on the History of Ohio. The last thing I’m trying to squeeze on my plate (as far as classes go) is another independent investigation on the correlation of myth and legend to documented history in pre-Roman Ireland. We’ll see if that gets approved… I’ll know Monday.

Hmm let’s see. In addition to classes, I am the co-chairperson of the LGBT group on campus (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender). We are going to try to become involved in overturning the federal statute that prohibits any male that has had any sexual contact with another male since 1977 from donating blood. We are also going to continue our drive to give away free condoms and information once a month, as well as perhaps provide free HIV testing once a month on campus.

I am also the chairperson of Spiral, the pagan group on campus. We got plans… really we do! But right now, there are only like five members, so we need to talk about what we can accomplish regarding education and awareness.

Let’s see… oh yes, I am also Queen Editor on the annual academic publication this year, The Writing Center Review. THAT may be my undoing. We’ll see.

Yep, school starts on Monday… just thinking about it exhausts me. I think I need a nap!

I was listening to this song today, and it made me think of the PN community:

Hold my hand, by Hootie and the Blowfish

With a little love, and some tenderness
We’ll walk upon the water
We’ll rise above this mess
With a little peace, and some harmony
We’ll take the world together
We’ll take ‘em by the hand

‘Cause I’ve got a hand for you
‘Cause I wanna run with you

Yesterday, I saw you standing there
Your head was down, your eyes were red, no comb had touched your hair
I said get up, and let me see you smile
We’ll take a walk together, walk the road awhile

‘Cause ‘Cause I’ve got a hand for you I’ve got a hand for you
‘Cause I wanna run with you, won’t you let me run with you? yeah
Hold my hand, want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand I’ll take you to a place where you can be
Hold my hand
Anything you wanna be because I wanna love you the best that, the best that I can

See I was wasted, and I was wasting time
‘Till I thought about your problems, I thought about your crimes
Then I stood up, and then I screamed aloud
I don’t wanna be part of your problems Don’t wanna be part of your crowd, no

‘Cause I’ve got a hand for you I’ve got a hand for you
‘Cause I wanna run with you Ah, won’t you let me run with you?

Hold my hand, want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand I’ll take you to the promised land
Hold my hand, maybe we can’t change the world but I wanna love you the best that, the best that I can, yeah

So, yeah… maybe its about romantic love… maybe its some other things that don’t exactly fit, but all in all… it first made me think of this community.

Guess maybe that does make me a flower lovin’, tree huggin’, hippie hippie freak?

I must confess it… I do not often do labor of the physical kind any longer. Dishes? Yes. Plant bulbs next to the townhouse? Yes. But… raking, not necessary. Hammering, sawing, building, etc… not so much. I justify this lack of physical labor by the fact that the lion’s share of my day is spent laboring quite extensively with my noodle, through schoolwork, work (I tutor people in a Writing Center), homework, and kids (who have a bojillion questions and needs that require a parents gray matter).

However, in this justification of my lack of physical labor, I have forgotten something. Nothing… and I mean NOTHING… clears ones head (MY head, anyway) like building something with one’s hands.

So, this weekend I decided to pull apart this old wood storage cabinet, dust and clean it and salvage what I could for a new altar in my bedroom. In the emptying, cleaning and unhinging, I found my mind shoveling out the stressful crap thats been tweaking me for the last few weeks. Primarily, that has to do with PN, the RWB, and my role as a member here or a moderator. (Not to say that I don’t have any stress anywhere else, but… not much, really. I love my life, and would change very little except for Scott’s health.)

While I was working, my mind wandered back to the first time I “met” AJ Drew (although I am absolutely certain he has no recollection of this, as up until a few months ago, he thought I was a twenty year old blonde from the southern hemisphere, not a forty year old broad from Michigan, now living in Canton).

It was back in the mid to late nineties… I’d have to say probably ‘97 or ‘98. I wanted to start up my own store in my mid-Michigan area, and he and I corresponded via email a few times. He was so warm and helpful, offering me tips on suppliers and goods, that kind of thing… and I wasn’t even a very active member at his website/online group (neopagan.com). I thought… wow, if I could only find other pagans in my area, they’d be as helpful and caring to others also… cause thats what Wicca or being pagan is about. I wasn’t quite as blindly naive as all that sounds… but it did plant in me the seed of belief that Wicca and paganism was about Love. Not sex… not just immediate family… but approaching other human beings from the foundation of Love, even if they were complete strangers. This brief communication he and I shared also helped to illustrate for me how small the pagan community really was (back then), and that we ALL belonged to it.

Fast forward to the last year. Through the increased activism (against the Fr*sts) running rampant around the internet (almost solely due to AJ and Aimee’s efforts), PN developed more and more notoriety and population. Crappy communication skills (from many people) created misunderstandings and problems all over the forums. I won’t dredge any more of that up… if you are really interested, go read the last year of posts. Suffice to say… when it came time for the Ball, many chose to not attend because of some apprehension about some activities and rituals planned. This has caused a great deal of sorrow and bitterness in the people that did attend.

Now, in the last month, has been the fallout after the Ball. One form this has taken has been a solidarity amongst those that attended this year. I celebrate this! I don’t view it as exclusionary… .I just view it as people who have developed or tightened a bond, which is strengthened by the struggle surrounding it.

Another form that this has taken has been the “liberation” of those that attended, deciding that they didn’t need to use any social filtering in their thoughts and comments in the forums at all. This has led to an almost complete elimination of that warmth and simple basic human kindness that has kept me as a member (at the very least a peripheral one) since that email exchange long ago. Which, as a consequence, has just pissed me off to the nth degree. I have found myself wallowing around in the muck and trying to refute the stupidity of comments such as “I am against diversity!” because there was an attempt at a semantic twist to say diversity meant supporting pedophiles, rapists and murderers. Which… of course… just snowballed to the point where every time I read something by AJ, I was pissed before the first three words were absorbed.

I kicked around the idea of posting some big long elaborate goodbye thread…. and then I thought that I would instead just fade away, and not come back.

Laboring on this cabinet cleaned some of the bullshit from my head. I now realize that I don’t want to leave PN, in spite of AJ’s (and others) very best efforts to drive most of us away. Why? Because it really is a community. Not so much a “pagan” or a “wiccan” or even a “heathen” community, as no one can all decide on any one definition of ANYTHING to do with these things… no, it is just a community like any other. Good people, quiet people, loud people, braggarts and assholes, funny people and worker bees, nurturers and selfish bastards. I’ve met people that I want in my life forever, as well as people that could move to Siberia with no internet or phone access ever again, and I’d be perfectly happy.

AJ may have started this community… but I no longer think he has the power to end it, no matter how hard he tries.

One of the PN members posted in her blog an entry discussing people presenting a fals face to the public, but specifically within Wicca and paganism. I found the comments of another responder interesting, and wanted to say a bit more, but didn’t want to hog up her blog spot with my responses to him instead of her, so I am reposting here.

In her own blog, Otterkins posted:

“This may just be how I am interpreting it but it seems that many “high” level Wiccan like to pretend to be some one else and run around bashing each other. Is this not against there own believes of “Harm None”? Why would they need to hide who they are? Why not come forwards as them selves and stand up for there own conventions?”

AJ posted the following reply:

“My opinion is that there is a ‘party line’ and folk stop at that line. They never examine the depth of feelings in their own soul. It is that or they have no soul.
As nature shows that via conflict evolution takes place (natural selection / survival of the fittest) one might think that a nature based religion would encourage intellectual debate to stimulate progress. Evidently, most pagan religions do not. Instead, there is the party line and none to challenge it. I call this stagnation and expect it to lead to extinction.”

So, as I said, instead of cluttering up Otterkins blog, I wanted to post here my response to AJ.

AJ, do you really think that this attitude (bashing others, pretending to be something you are not, etc.) is Wiccan specific, instead of being something indulged in by the general public? And as far as Wiccans not encouraging intellectual debate, that is (in my experience, and my opinion only) horse pucky. Just because not many respond to YOUR aggressive overtones, doesn’t mean they don’t do their own research, or discussion elsewhere, or challenge the “status quo” in their own ways.

I’ve said it in other places, and I’ll say it here again also… I think you have a bee in your bonnet about Wicca, and don’t like how others are either living, or learning, it. Why? I mean, I’ve seen you yell at people for making hurtful blanket generalizations about Christians, but you turn around and insult Wiccans as a whole (”They never examine the depth of feelings in their own soul. It is that or they have no soul.” or “Instead, there is the party line and none to challenge it. I call this stagnation and expect it to lead to extinction.”)… Why?

That’s fine… dislike Wiccans to your little hearts content. Expect us to become extinct… whatever. But your blanket generalizations are frustrating, and thats coming from someone (me!) that respects you, and is hurt and bothered by your continued disparaging remarks about all things Wiccan.

So I ask again… what gives? Should all Wiccans that come to PN and to the PN blogs see this is as S.O.P.? (Standard Operating Procedure, for you non-military folk)

So… when my seventeen year old acts like an asshole, my nineteen year old starts being an angel… I can almost hear her snickering that now its [i] her [/i] turn to be the good one.

Then.. as luck would have it… the seventeen year old pulls her head out of her ass with a resounding pop, and the nineteen year old switches places with her, to become the Dumbass of the family.

Is there always hubub, no matter what “family” one is talking about?

I believe we have… rings… or eschelons, if you will, of people. Our innermost rings are reserved for immediate family, with the next ring being extended family, and the very closest of friends, etc.

Do each of these rings have a necessary hubub quotient? Cause, I’m here to tell you… each of my “rings” has an almost constant hubub, with only brief moments of stillness. Its like the underlying hum of electricity… you become numb to its presence until its gone, then when it turns on, its almost unbearable.

I think I need a vacation… me, a shady beach, and some ice cold margaritas. Mmmmm.

Can’t remember where I left off, so just picking up rambling mid-thought…

So… lately at PN, I’ve felt like people are argumentative just to be argumentative. They pick each other apart, word by word, and if someone else doesn’t agree with their personal, individual philosophy, then they say derogatory things about that way of life in general.

In many ways, I blame this De-Frost campaign.

Until the campaign to eject the Frosts from the pagan community at large reemerged from a temporary hiatus due to AJ’s brain injury (among other things), PN had one of the most chill, tranquil, groovy energies of any forum or online community I had ever seen. People were sharing thoughts, loving and supporting each other, learning, teaching, and growing. I thought to myself, Self… its only taken a few decades, but the pagans have grown up enough to get along. Jump on in, Self… the water is fine, and no one has lambasted anyone else since Sekhmet left in early ‘06 or so. Honestly, Self… its okay… it really is truly a nourishing atmosphere now… growing is not over, but growing pains are.

Well.

I mean, really.

I knew I was being optimistic, but yeesh.

Once the often heated discussions about the Frosts began, then things such as namecalling, hairpulling, credential displaying (my dick’s bigger than yours and so is my list of degrees), chest thumping, pitchfork and torch waving began to be the normal order of business. Okay, I didn’t see anyone get their hair pulled… but I know for a fact that if it were possible to pull hair through a computer monitor, it would have been done.

Sister against sister, brother against brother… this is how it feels. Like… for a brief, shining period of time, we could all of us be totally open about who we are and what we think and how we feel without fear of censure or criticism. That brief shining moment, to me, makes the lack of trust to open or share that freely even more painful. To have had spiritual communion and lost it is worse to me than not having had it at all.

So… being the kind of girl I am… I went looking for solutions.

Every time I spoke in the forums against the escalating madness, however, I got slammed down. That gets pretty old, so eventually I stopped (mostly) doing that.

Okay… that makes it time to look elsewhere. I’ve attended two UU services, and a close friend is involved in one of the local CUUPs groups.

It’s better than nothing, and may be more than I’ve ever known. They accept me, without trying to change me. They offer me community, growth, understanding, love… and cookies and coffee after church.

They provide me with an atmosphere where I can revere the Lord and Lady next to someone worshipping God and Jesus, and across the aisle from someone chanting softly in Cherokee.

Better than continual strife, methinks.

Not that I’m going anywhere… but PN may become my late night snack instead of my sustenance.

Maybe.

As of late, I’ve felt such a deep spiritual void that has nothing to do with my relationship with Deity.

For decades, I’ve been a solitary practitioner… pagan but not Wiccan, Celtic but also American Indian, Buddhist tendencies in a Western world and never fitting anywhere spiritually. I was quite okay with it… I had become numb to the loneliness of having no one to spiritually commune with.

When the internet became widely available and accessible, I was able to have a distant and peripheral relationship with others that were “kinda sorta a lil bit” like me, but still… in the thousands of people I met online, none were similar enough to really encourage any kind of spiritual community.

For the third or fourth time about two years ago, I revisited the Pagan Nation/Neopagan/Salem West community. It looked like ~ other than a few lunatics ~ the online pagan community might actually be able to allow for a tight “community” bond, not just a pseudocyber one.

Crap… late for class…. oh hell, more later.

Dictionary.com defines pacifism as such:

“pac·i·fism [pas-uh-fiz-uhm] –noun
1. opposition to war or violence of any kind.
2. refusal to engage in military activity because of one’s principles or beliefs.
3. the principle or policy that all differences among nations should be adjusted without recourse to war. “

When did this become a bad thing in Wicca? I’ve seen the word “pacifist” thrown at people as if it were an insult lately.

I am not pacific by nature… quite the contrary, I have a violent streak in me that is rarely easy to contain, especially in regards to protection of the people I love. That said… I also find that the people I love need my protection about as much as I’ve needed the protection of the people I have loved in the past… to wit, not much at all.

Nonetheless, for many many years (even approaching decades), I have felt that the primal beast instinct is what we need to learn to control (not suppress), recognize, and work through in order to grow. Call it a flavor of buddhism or hinduism or stargate-ism, I don’t much care… but that is my opinion. Wallowing in our base nature just encourages us to be… well… base. It is regression, not progression.

I have found that when the clamor of anger, self righteousness, indignation and desire to commit violence are raging around in my head, then I can’t think, I can’t grow, I can only wallow in what I used to be, not what I want to be.

Wicca… well, not many can come up with a hard and fast definition of Wicca, but a general consensus (over many forum or discussion boards, and through many conversations with Wiccans) seems to be that Wicca is a belief system (some dare say a religion) that pays homage to and reveres nature, and worships a dual gendered, polytheistic representation of Deities. There is a focus on living with nature in balance, and (yes, I’ll say it, even though there are many “pagan scholars” that will argue with me about it!) also abiding by some version of the line from the Wiccan Rede that states, “An it harm none, do what you Will.”

So… what about that definition of Wicca, and the dictionary’s definition of pacifism, doesn’t coincide? How did being called a “pacifist” in Wicca become an insult?

I am not trying to say all Wiccan’s should be pacifist (we all have different ways of doing things), but I am saying that I don’t understand why being so is viewed as negative.

Ya know… I just feel out and out pissy lately.

First… I have teenagers. This should not have to be elaborated on, if you have ever had teenagers. They are evil. One is nineteen, the other seventeen. I’ve been called in the middle of the night to mediate arguments, drive to emergency rooms and forestall the police more times in the last two months than a person should ever have to. Ever. EVER. Teenagers suck.

Second… boyfriends of teenagers suck. I’ve been to court, the ER, attorneys and played chauffer in the middle of the night for them too. Why? Because either their parents are smart enough to not do it, or bad enough they wouldn’t consider it. Teenagers boyfriends suck.

Third… spanish. Oh my freaking green goddess, my head cannot handle an accelerated five week course in spanish. Too damned much, but I’m working on it. Como? Soy de loco.

Fourth… Pagan nation. What was once my sanctuary, my place of calm in the midst of all of this fucking crap, has become a cesspool of infighting, namecalling, and one-up-man-ship. I am so sick of it. If I hear the name FROST one more time, I’m going to scream. If I get accused of shit one more time because people keep generalizing, I’m going to scream. It is UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE how many people I have totally lost respect for in the midst of this crap. I don’t give a rats fucking ass which side of the fence people stand on, but I’m sick and motherfucking goddamned tired of people looking down their noses at others because of different opinions or ways of handling situations. There are like… only a couple/few people in this whole ugly stupid goddamned affair that have not been assholes, and I’m sick of it. I can’t ignore it, because I feel like then.. as a mod… shame on me. I should know whats going on with the site. So then I ask myself… should I be a mod? I think… yes… I think I have something to offer people here, as well as something to learn. Then I read the posts cause someone just posted a new reply, and I get pissed all over again. Bottom line is… its no longer about healing, or about expunging pedophiles from our community, or different folks stroking differently. Now its about snapping back at each other defensively, cut eaching other down, proving who’s smarter, and lashing out at everyone. What a welcome mat to display for new people.

Fifth… in the midst of this is the still daily battle with Scott’s cancer. He is scheduled for surgery Thursday. We have fear, but we also have hope. This should tell us, once and for all, the extent the cancer spread, and if we got it all.

I’m just pissed. Every avenue I’ve ever used to find any kind of personal solace outside of communication and ritual with deity is just being crappy. I just want to destroy something. Pacifist, my ass… contrary to popular opinion, I am an incredibly violent individual. The thing is, I just think that violence and aggressive behavior is for first-years and children… crones should have outgrown such things.

Yes… thats what I think. That violence and aggressive behavior is something to be outgrown… a childish thing to be put away with the teething ring. Yes yes yes, blah blah blah… I know all the arguments in defense of being a “warrior” yadda yadda yadda. There is a time to defend and to protect. And there is a difference between defending and protecting… and attacking.

Bah. Harmph. I’m still pissy. Blogging didn’t cure it. Motherfucker.

I start school in one week.

Scott has another appointment with his surgeon, who wants to do a neck dissection in two weeks. Best case scenario: this surgery gets whatever is left. Worst case scenario: they do a surgical stroke, and he loses the complete right half of his brain… which means losing everything that half does, such as moving everything on the left side of his body.

Scott’s salary continuance at eighty percent ends July 22. After that, who knows… but he won’t be recovered from his surgery by then. And he may need another after it. So… I’ll probably have to drop my school hours down to at least half time, and start working full time. We can’t afford to live otherwise.

My friends and family are falling apart piece by piece… everyone has their own maxed out stressometer, and I feel completely incapable of helping anyone. It really pisses me off. I feel like I have let so many in my life down, because I am so wrapped up in Scotts health. Maybe my lesson to learn in this is to quit making it about me… I don’t need to be the savior. Then again… maybe there is no plan, no lesson.

I have so much to do, that when the day starts, I am all but immobilized by the sheer weight of the list of tasks to accomplish for the day. And I find that behavior pathetic, but seem to be incapable of changing it.

Which is bullshit, because only I am responsible, not only for my actions, but also for my reactions.

Going to start tunneling through the mountain.

So, I’m standing in the shower today, and found an odd little blemish on my skin. With Scott going through cancer, as well as his ex wife, I say to myself, Self… the odds of you getting cancer right now also are just not that good. They can’t be.

Then I thought… so, what if it was?

My youngest daughter is seventeen… so close to being an adult we could spit on it if we wanted to. While I’m not unhappy with my life at all, I don’t really need to be here any more.

I have no fear of dying. I can’t even seem to scrounge some up if I try. I never had fear of dying before I had children, either… it was only once they were born that I was afraid to leave them alone if something happened. Now that they are all but grown, I’ve realized that, while I may be all good with staying to see weddings, and grandbabies, and all of that, I’m okay with being done, also.

This sounds like I don’t love life, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I adore, cherish, embrace, revel and wallow in life, and the pleasures and experiences that life brings. I just don’t mind death, that’s all.

Which… by the way… I’m not sure is such a good mindset for someone who has cancer. Not that I do, or think my little blemish is cancer, but… how can I convince Scott to fight the good fight when I think that a trip to the Summerland sounds fine and dandy for me.

I pretty much unscruplously use his daughter for that. If my kids were still only eleven, I tell myself, then I too would fight with everything I had to stay here this go ’round. So, I try to convince him he needs to do that.

I think he fights… a little anyway.

But I don’t think he believes in the Summerland, and do-overs. I don’t think he believes in anything… just life, then death.

I see God and Goddess in everything, and I think he sees God or Goddess in nothing.

Maybe that is the ticket, then. If he thinks this is all he ever gets, then he should fight to live it as long, and as well, as possible.

Hmm.

I lash out in anger when my heart is sick.

*deep breath* There, that wasn’t so bad.

Again… I lash out in anger when my heart is sick.

Okay, then. That said…why do I feel a need to speak my two cents when I’m not even in a situation? I don’t know if it’s some kind of Jesus complex, thinking I am the cure-all, fix-all, but what I do know is that when people I care about argue incessantly, hurting each other and hurting everyone around them, I open my mouth and who knows what pours out.

This gets me in trouble.

I end up hurting or bugging people that I really don’t want to.

I just wish that the feeling of this being my family was not so transient.

Ah, blogging. I’ve avoided it on myspace and livejournal for some time, because it is not really like true journaling. People always end up reading one’s blog, and then someone, somewhere, gets pissed. It’s almost inevitable.

Maybe that won’t happen here. On the hope that it won’t, I’ll take a leap and write my thoughts.

Stressors of the last year:

1. Scott’s cancer

2. Lexi’s various altercations with the law

3. Having my family’s lives threatened due to one of those altercations

4. Finally packing up and putting away any hope of having a relationship with my sister

5. School

6. Jaimie’s incredibly bad choices

7. Money

I find it funny, that money part. Not that it made the list, but that it is on the bottom of it. Oh, we’ve had our money issues to be sure, and they loom large on the horizon, but… if you can feed your family, clothe and house them, then… last place is all it deserves on one’s list of stressors.

Kids… ah kids. Evil devil little bastards, oh how I love them. I believe I had children in this life to teach me how to relinquish control. Well, yes, I also had them because I had sex, but I think I was driven to continue repeated trying for as many babies as possible so that I could learn to give up being a control freak. Jaimie teaches me this, with her succession of boys, her employment difficulties, her lack of follow through, and her stupid b-b gun drive by incidents. She is almost twenty, they are her bad choices… and after all, mama don’t got no bail money, I always say. Lexi teaches me this also, with her fighting, her loudmouthed ways, her breaking of the law. They were not raised around these things, yet they do them. This is what I get for teaching the little bastards how to make their own decisions and abide by them.

Scott’s cancer. Well… can’t talk about it yet. Maybe soon, maybe not.

My sister. Well. I’m not sure I can talk about that yet either. Might be a whole ‘nother blog, that one.

School… still holding at only a 3.74 GPA. Not good enough. Independent investigation, incomplete class, and summer courses had better boost me back above 3.8. I need summa cum laude, and university honors, period. I roll to senior this year, time is running out to make up for those three B’s and the one C.

Enough for now.