Because men obviously don't hate their mothers, who love unconditionally. Imagine those deathbeds, when each male realizes the religion they boasted, missed opportunities for compassion in relating. Where listening to God's messengers, moved through pure heartstrings, never quite added up to enough.
Oh how their wives could have loved them. It was heroic men with rational eyes that we needed, not the default setting. God no, not the default setting.
That's all.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Lightning round
All education, light and life convenient extras. As I rephilosophize my new life direction, able to inhale and exhale all the oxygen I encounter, you'd be surprised how swiftly change takes place. My house and its crevices are all the evidence I need.
For awhile there, I was just blaming elves for the accumulating dust, every standard I ever upheld magically replaced by tolerance of disorder and worse, filth. Not feng shui, nor the change of real seasons, could lure me back into sane.
Losing my magical powers was the last straw, no loving God just "allows" in the presence of truth. Or so she says...when really, she just wants to brag about how she's cleaning her house. Totally going to get the Swiffers out on Monday, for sure.
Presently, it's just zip speed pace at folding laundry, conquering corners I hadn't wanted to admit existed, and the basement. Gonna whip my whole being back into shape, as reflected in my environment's not so subtle cues.
For awhile there, I was just blaming elves for the accumulating dust, every standard I ever upheld magically replaced by tolerance of disorder and worse, filth. Not feng shui, nor the change of real seasons, could lure me back into sane.
Losing my magical powers was the last straw, no loving God just "allows" in the presence of truth. Or so she says...when really, she just wants to brag about how she's cleaning her house. Totally going to get the Swiffers out on Monday, for sure.
Presently, it's just zip speed pace at folding laundry, conquering corners I hadn't wanted to admit existed, and the basement. Gonna whip my whole being back into shape, as reflected in my environment's not so subtle cues.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Speaking of Catholics
Jen's throwing a birthday party for Noella tonight, bring costumes she said. Afterwards she'll be cooking us all dinner, Jen's my best friend. I've mentioned her before, yes, I know I have. It's as funny as ironic, how my friendships work. All have perfectly respectable timing.
Take "breaking the news" to them all, which was inevitable eventually, no matter how long I put it off. Sure, I experienced it myself first, and then comfortably blogged about it, but it took me a good number of weeks before I could actually call my Dad. He hates when I'm hurting.
It went well though, spent our usual conversation believing in each other, seeing the sunny-side of life (totally where I got it), and deciding that as long as we all had each other, nothing was actually really all that bad. It never is when I'm talking to my Dad.
Within ONE DAY after that, I bump into three favorite friends in a row, due to perfectly unplanned, au natural (never forced) plain circumstance. First, surprisingly, was Cindy, not Jen. Cindy's about a decade ahead, a homeschooler too, and the only person who ever advocated for my point of view when the Evangelical homeschoolers decided I had no place in leadership in our group. Fuck you, I should've said.
But, I didn't. I surrendered my will, was grateful for what I had, basically, I was obedient. Better at it than any of THOSE Christian women, I might've said were I more arrogant (I'm actually not). Cindy got mad for me, and then I followed suit. We were MAD!!!
Soon after I put my kids into the school system, after realizing how pathetic bombastic women are at debating. Ha! Their bad. Then Trina stopped by my house, unexpectedly...some unfinished 4-H business we had. Shared the whole story, brought her to tears (of course) and was so glad to have finally gotten it all out, thanks to my Classical Homeschooling expert, master of all the materials friend. And, she's Canadian.
Lastly was Jen. I didn't want to have to tell my sympathetic Catholic friend. I'd cry, she'd cry, we'd keep crying and crying, it would never ever end. Without a single plan, just an instinct in a moment she stopped by. And I, soaking my troubles away in yet another unfair bath, I could barely consider even telling her. Boy did I sob when I cried.
Felt better after that, and then.
Take "breaking the news" to them all, which was inevitable eventually, no matter how long I put it off. Sure, I experienced it myself first, and then comfortably blogged about it, but it took me a good number of weeks before I could actually call my Dad. He hates when I'm hurting.
It went well though, spent our usual conversation believing in each other, seeing the sunny-side of life (totally where I got it), and deciding that as long as we all had each other, nothing was actually really all that bad. It never is when I'm talking to my Dad.
Within ONE DAY after that, I bump into three favorite friends in a row, due to perfectly unplanned, au natural (never forced) plain circumstance. First, surprisingly, was Cindy, not Jen. Cindy's about a decade ahead, a homeschooler too, and the only person who ever advocated for my point of view when the Evangelical homeschoolers decided I had no place in leadership in our group. Fuck you, I should've said.
But, I didn't. I surrendered my will, was grateful for what I had, basically, I was obedient. Better at it than any of THOSE Christian women, I might've said were I more arrogant (I'm actually not). Cindy got mad for me, and then I followed suit. We were MAD!!!
Soon after I put my kids into the school system, after realizing how pathetic bombastic women are at debating. Ha! Their bad. Then Trina stopped by my house, unexpectedly...some unfinished 4-H business we had. Shared the whole story, brought her to tears (of course) and was so glad to have finally gotten it all out, thanks to my Classical Homeschooling expert, master of all the materials friend. And, she's Canadian.
Lastly was Jen. I didn't want to have to tell my sympathetic Catholic friend. I'd cry, she'd cry, we'd keep crying and crying, it would never ever end. Without a single plan, just an instinct in a moment she stopped by. And I, soaking my troubles away in yet another unfair bath, I could barely consider even telling her. Boy did I sob when I cried.
Felt better after that, and then.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Only one-hour of free speech
Available next year at my local library. And here I was so set in my boots to destroy the East Grand Forks library's reputation where illogical computer usage is concerned. Hitler's glare alone kept me from attending that rat hole back in, lemme think freely here...August.
The heavy just informed me, as I witnessed one of those spectacles I would never otherwise participate in...kicking someone off a computer (because THERE'S NOT ENOUGH to go around). He'd been warned time and time again, and NOT LISTENED!!!
A "special" program will be installed (licking their lips and waiting impatiently for it, she might add on behalf of all the others). An hour time limit FOR EVERYONE who dares enter, and no my friendly tax payer, there will be no option to check back in on one. Uh oh.
But I can't afford the risk of owning a computer in my own home! And I'd never cramp my fingers on one of THOSE devices, ever. Guess I'll just have to project everything into my mind, and then back on to paper. Bummer!
The heavy just informed me, as I witnessed one of those spectacles I would never otherwise participate in...kicking someone off a computer (because THERE'S NOT ENOUGH to go around). He'd been warned time and time again, and NOT LISTENED!!!
A "special" program will be installed (licking their lips and waiting impatiently for it, she might add on behalf of all the others). An hour time limit FOR EVERYONE who dares enter, and no my friendly tax payer, there will be no option to check back in on one. Uh oh.
But I can't afford the risk of owning a computer in my own home! And I'd never cramp my fingers on one of THOSE devices, ever. Guess I'll just have to project everything into my mind, and then back on to paper. Bummer!
Monday, November 9, 2009
Lovelier than average weekend
And on into the morning, you know. Met the most amazing Pakistani doctor this AM, such a sense of humor, and always educational. I just learn, and learn, and learn...wherever I go. This time, basic Indian wisdom exchanged, no, not too much mentioned about actual humors. Love those though.
Illiteracy rates, caste systems, and payment with chickens...yup, that's how my life goes. Should probably mention too that half my kids are STILL sick, all the fault of that dang truth school. Two months straight of this, that, or the other, wipes us all out regularly, but I never hash that out.
Not on here, not in my precious space, because that would be wrong. Who wants to hear about it anyway, might taint someone's fragile existence, and so my instinct just naturally says, "whoa". Kind of a tendency I might even have, probably more sanguine than melancholic, and definitely not phlegmatic or choleric, I'm just not that way, so.
Anyone really think Jon Stewart studied Greek, or medicine anyway? Um, no.
Illiteracy rates, caste systems, and payment with chickens...yup, that's how my life goes. Should probably mention too that half my kids are STILL sick, all the fault of that dang truth school. Two months straight of this, that, or the other, wipes us all out regularly, but I never hash that out.
Not on here, not in my precious space, because that would be wrong. Who wants to hear about it anyway, might taint someone's fragile existence, and so my instinct just naturally says, "whoa". Kind of a tendency I might even have, probably more sanguine than melancholic, and definitely not phlegmatic or choleric, I'm just not that way, so.
Anyone really think Jon Stewart studied Greek, or medicine anyway? Um, no.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Butterfly Logic
Oh believe me, I know transformation, and I know illusions of power, and I know how some people don't have enough integrity in their own selves to lower themselves to the common ranks, for absolute fear of losing the right to home ownership with seven plus bathrooms (and showers).
You should see my cute, sweet, close-knit little family as we live within our means. One bathroom, for seven people, though probably with a little more stress and alot of credit, we could "achieve" more. Maybe if we wore the right boots, or knew Tom Hanks through family, or relied for just a moment upon Clooney and Soderbergh.
I do love Nespresso, I now respect porn stars. If only the free press permitted a little downhome shuffle between the frau frau, and the little people...on Huffington, of course.
You should see my cute, sweet, close-knit little family as we live within our means. One bathroom, for seven people, though probably with a little more stress and alot of credit, we could "achieve" more. Maybe if we wore the right boots, or knew Tom Hanks through family, or relied for just a moment upon Clooney and Soderbergh.
I do love Nespresso, I now respect porn stars. If only the free press permitted a little downhome shuffle between the frau frau, and the little people...on Huffington, of course.
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