Why Hello There God

I struggled for quite a few years with the concept of God. I lost a lot of family members at a young age. Dealing with death before dealing with puberty is often strange and marks us differently. My final straw was Granddad. Granddad was a hardcore Catholic, but I could not have told you what that meant when I was a child. I can't tell you what it means now other than I have his rosary and knew he had church brought to his home because he was too old to go anymore.

He drank heavily before his diabetes diagnosis, he swore; he did not seem like a godly man so the designation as a hardcore Catholic did not sit with me. At any rate, when he died I lashed out at God with a fury like no other. I was inconsolable--my main man was ripped from my life or so it felt. I spent every summer with Granddad. I knew his habits, his clothes, his soap. I became intimately aware with the mixed scent of Vo. 5 Shampoo and moth balls.

I could wax on and on about granddad and in fact have written a piece about him available on my Deviant art account (www.poetic-pontification.deviantart.com) . To get back to the point.

It took me a long time to realize why I was angry and who I was angry with. I was angry at losing my one ally in the mess I perceived to be my life. My parents remember a very different childhood than I do, but in the end I was unhappy regardless of either of our perceptions. I was only happy with granddad because he was as a big a grump as I was. We hated the same people (in the way old people and young people hate others) and that was all that mattered to me. I cannot say if I have sugar coated my memory (my dad seems to think I have) but I knew I was happy there. I lived on sugar, spaghettios, and chocolate malts. I lived on pure energy and spite to be spastic when my father took me home.

When granddad died I lost my ally, my favorite person, and I rested the blame with God. Granddad was struck with a series of illnesses designed to kill younger men than he. He had a military funeral and a Catholic service. To this day, I do not know what it was called.

I've been to church many times before. I've been to my local Catholic church more time than I can count due to an ex-boyfriend's overzealous family's attempt to convert me. I didn't believe diddly squat then about God. I hated him, which I suppose was an admission of his existence.

I began to realize I hated the God portrayed by man, by dogma, by other people who do not necessarily know what they are talking about. My boyfriend (who is Catholic) readily admits he does not have the answer to my questions. I have apparently inspired him to be more vigilant about his bible studying. I inspired myself to read the dang book myself. The pages are unbearably thin, there are well over 1000 in the new and old testament combined. I can guarantee I will be made very angry by Leviticus and probably other parts. I was already pissed by Genesis. Lot is great big prat and yet it is his wife who suffers. Lot, who tries to barter with God's (or God's angels, same difference to em) decisions because he cannot be bothered to travel all the way to a mountain. Yet his wife is a pillar of salt. And then for reasons I cannot fathom his daughters get him drunk and purposely get pregnant by him. If anything, I think the three survivors should have gone down with Sodom and Gomorrah.

My point, in all the rambling, is that over time I came to a truce with God. I would not say I love him because I cannot love what I have not fully forgiven, but I no longer hate him. I also think the Catholic pageantry is ridiculous as well as Christian's obsessive need to capitalize "He" and "Him". I get capitalizing "God" because that is his name. I know if is a sign of defference and what not, but the only being that should care at the end of the day and I am sure he can read your heart whether or not you dip your knee before entering a pew or if you capitalize "He" and "Him". I think my prayers are worth the same as anybody else's regardless or what trinkets or what dances I do. I don't feel the need to prove my belief in his existence to any mortal man, and I do not see why I should be judged for it. In fact, I find it hypocritical that anyone should judge me about my relationship with God. I don't know it by heart, but I know there is a part about removing the plank in your eye before you accuse me of a splinter of some such.

In short, I bought a bible and I am reading it.

Where Young Birds Go to Die

That is the title of my newest piece for my independent study. I think I am getting better at naming these things. On another note I have once again proven my theory that text books in 100 and 200 level courses are useless. Thankfully I only spent $3 on my very old edition of my Anthropology text. I never opened it--just went to class and took notes. And miraculously I got a 100. How very not surprising. I am so glad I caught on to this and stopped paying tons of money for brand-spanking-new editions. So what if I need the 10th edition and I got the 3rd? At least my wallet isn't crying nor is my Anthropology grade.

On another note, my wifey has relo'd to Oregon. It is most tragic and we will never recover...at least until she comes home to visit in May. Granted, we are used to only seeing each other over winter, spring, and summer break. She also took our replacement love-fish as she let our true love fish flop out of his bowl and die.

In serious romantic news, I paid for the bulk of the beach house. I thought I had paid for the whole beach house, but apparently there are taxes and such so I still owe $63.75. So minimal but so annoying. now I have to write another check. I hate checks. More like I hate change...or the unfamiliar. Some change I do enjoy so I'm not quite sure what it is I dislike.

I am so excited for this vacation, but I have this cloud hanging over me. I still need to talk to Josh and tell him I can't go to his graduation. I can go to his commissioning which is more important to him but I really wanted to be there for his graduation. We thought it was a Sunday, but it is Monday. I am taking off the following Friday for my graduation and the following week for our vacation. He said he wouldn't mind, but I feel terrible. I just found out last night there might be an issue, and confirmed today. I won't have the leave to take off from work since I only started working there in January. I think I am more upset than he will be because I really wanted to be there :( I also have a final exam that day at 7:30 and I would have to pay for a hotel so by not going I save money and won't stress about getting to my exam on time/being prepared but still. It's really depressing.

Everyone tells me feeling is a sign that I care, but sometimes it really sucks. Oh well. On a brighter note, I have never been happier. I continue to maintain this absurd level of happiness and after almost a year, I am beginning to think it will never end. Josh brought it to my attention we started seeing each other around this time next year. This next Saturday actually will mark the one year point when I kissed him. Yesterday marked the one year point of officially breaking up with my douchebag ex. I am surprised it has been a year and I am pleased I did not even notice when I checked the date yesterday. I am pleased I spent the day with the love of my life and that this past year has been the best of my life. Here is to hoping the rest of my life will be this full of joy.

Waxing Poetic

Not really, just waxing about nothing in particular. About how I will never be famous and that would have bothered me 5 years ago, but it doesn't now. How no one may ever be touched by my poetry of my prose, but that is ok. I am bothered by it, but I won't die a horrible lonely death like Poe of Dickinson--whose works are rather well known now, in case you didn't know.

I won't be written about or photographed, my life will not be splashed on the big screen and this is perfectly acceptable because for the first time in life I am able to admit my fault but celebrate my successes. I can see where I fail without being marked as an individual by it. To live is to be marked, and I want my body to be a map of all the right reasons.

I am in love, I am successful, and in 7 weeks time I will be a college graduate.

And even through all this happiness I manage to write pieces for my delightfully wicked chapbook of deranged mother/child pieces. I am beginning to think I have talent, oh ho.

Works Outs, Independent Study, and web editing

Once upon a time there was a girl with my name and appearance and she considered herself fairly in shape. When all was said and done this statement held up under scrutiny but she was by no means the incredible hulk. Then one days she discovered this blog and her life changed forever--or, less dramatically, for that day and maybe for her work out routines in the future.

I think I'll stop talking in third person now. So I did the suicidal sweat work out and then I did 50 burpees in total (5 sets of 10). I plan on doing at least 100 sit ups (no big deal for me, I have a bad back, so I've been doing sit ups to strengthen my core since I was 9) to have a well rounded work out. Triceps, biceps, shoulders, calves, thighs, and (in a bit) core. My goodness I am going to be hurting tomorrow. I think I'm going to start using this blogs workouts though because I am getting dead tired of my standard go to's. Plus many of her work outs count as cardio instead of just strength training. Awwwwesome!

Also, I have been working on my pieces for my independent study in bursts. I have completed 13 of the necessary 20--well the minimum is 20, I said 20-30 on my proposal but I'm thinking it's going to be more like 20 because I wrote 6 of my pieces before the semester even started (winter break was useful, but I'd hoped to get more writing done) so I've only done 7 during the semester. We are in the 5th week now so that means I'm only averaging 1.4 pieces per week (or approx 3 pieces every 2 weeks). so this means it will be at least another 5 weeks before I have reached my minimum, leaving me 5 weeks to edit and submit my final chapbook to my advisor as well as the contest we found. This is the schedule my advisor and I set up so I am on track, and honestly I think I'd only need 2 weeks to edit and put the chapbook together (without being stressed out about it) so I have 3 weeks of leeway. I guess I'm just worrying about nothing. The collection of thus far completed pieces can be found here.

In other class news, I really need to work on my tourism project this week since the love of my life comes home on weekends and eats all my time ;) I also need to start reading this dang book for my anthropology class. The take home exam on the book isn't due until late April, but I have a feeling I will need a thorough understanding of the book for it and it is not a topic I am at all interested in so it will be slow going with the reading.

In work related news, I rocked house today and solved some serious issues that my coworkers and the company we are working with for the website overhaul could not figure out. I got a lot of praise and I really feel appreciated at my job--a feeling I have never had before. I hope the awesome train keeps on rolling :)

Reflections

I am realizing how much life has improved since this time last year. Valentine's day last year my incredibly crappy ex did nothing. He has an "anti-Valentine's day" dinner the night before, but refused to acknowledge the day itself. I realized a couple of weeks before that that I was no longer in love with him, but it wasn't until that day that it hit me hard. I cried that night and asked him if he even loved me. I think I was looking for a mutual out, I think I was hoping he would say no. But he said yes and I could see it in his face. We went on a break 19 days later on March 5th. On March 17th I found out he had cheated on me with my supposed best friend. I waited until the 20th to meet up with him to end it because I knew he had an exam and I cared enough to not end it before the test.

I ended it and refused to cry in front of him. A week later he came to my house and bought me lunch, my favorite drink, and my favorite snack as well as a mixed CD. Too little too late. He asked me to forgive him but in the end I made him leave. He came around my work a lot and it was awkward. He told me when I changed my mind, he would still be there. 3 weeks later he went out on a date with the girl he is now dating. It made me wonder if he was rebounding or if he had just lied again and had never loved me at all.

I worked out too much, I drank too much, I ate too little. Then I moved on after a week of being stupid. I reconnected with the man I had been infatuated with as a teen and we have been together ever since.

It amazes me how much more I feel with him, how much happier he makes me and how much I want nothing more than to be with him for always. It makes me wonder if I was ever in love with my ex or if I was just settling. I remember being interested in marrying my ex as we dated for many years but I was never overjoyed. My current, lovely boyfriend and I have not ever discussed marriage but we both have indicated we are looking for long term commitments. My current boyfriend I am so much more ecstatic about that I cringe when I think what I would be like if I was stuck with my dead end ex who still lived at home at the age of 28 (now 29 and still at home unless he's mooching off his current girlfriend) and made me spend my money on him all the time while he spent very little on me. I don't put price tags on relationships, but if I am the one making all the expenditures, something is clearly wrong.

Flash forward a week after my breakup when I reconnected with my now boyfriend. We had drinks, I kissed him. We went on some dates, he went to OCS and we wrote letters. There was an interim where he decided to end things as his family was trying to kick him out and he was worried about being military (this lasted all of 10 days). Since then things have gotten more serious, more fun, and I am absurdly in love. I am completely and utterly in love to the point where I feel my body radiating with it. I feel like people can look at me and must be able to feel it too. I hope they do, because I want to share the supreme happiness I feel.

One year after the beginning of the end of phase one of my life and I am the best me I have been in a long time. I met the best friends of my life, started dating the love of my life, got a fantastic job, moved out, and am in my last semester of college. I am living life, and living it well. My boyfriend said to me it saddened him how many people don't enjoy life; I told him I have never enjoyed life more.

I want to hold him, he tells me he wants to hold me without prompting. He is my favorite and I want for nothing. I am finally free of regret, of fear, of uncertainty for the first time in my life. I wish everyone in the world the same happiness.

Work

So I have a job, a real one that pays real money as opposed to those college jobs that pay you in fake money. I'm doing something I actually like doing, which is awesome. However, as a result I could give a rat's hindquarters about my last semester of college. I have 3 classes left--one online, one independent study, and one night class. Hopefully I will summon the gumption to do well.

Knowing me, I will get a couple weeks into it and decide I need to rock house as per usual. I'm just really ready to be done with college. I'm sure I'd miss the atmosphere and the relatively lack of real responsibility (writing homework down in your planner and doing it is not exactly what I call responsibility--I call that ingrained training).

Also, I am in love. Absurdly so. It is a wonderful feeling and I am pretty sure I could wax poetic about it until I vomit rainbows and unicorns but I won't. So farewell for now, Blogger.

Willow Trees

It would seem I have been on a nature kick. I have written no less than 3 poems in the past month of an arboreal nature. In my ENGL 397 class I was required to put together a chapbook in which I encase all three of these. This is the second chapbook I have made in the course of my studies but it will not be the last. Next semester, my last semester (oh my, the real world is looming in the near distance) I will be doing an independent study resulting in the creation of a chapbook. But I digress. Below are the arboreal innards of my chapbook

Carnivorous

I saw the Willow droop its leaves
into a cup of tea, frigid and prim
I heard the tea scream at the
intrusion and the tree chuckle
as its fingers soaked up
the constant comment, burnt
umber in color, citrus in taste and
abandoned by its holder:
cozy hands to cup its sides
warm lips to caress its rim
The Willow soaks the dew and I
pluck at its newly infused leaves
the crunch is more sweet
than bitter, more citrus than soil

If I had an Airplane

My knees ache I wonder if
I am getting old
like the last kamikaze leaves of fall
Are my roots brown, my head
green? I leap frog and dive bomb you
I get lost in the air and die
My last mission admittedly a failure
(I missed my target)
Leaves don't have knees and
I would rather be brown bodied suicide
arboreal foliage
than woman with chronic aches
and no airplane

Kamikaze Leaves

                                 Unwanted memories.
They are sad,  the last leaf alone on a tree                                           
brown at the base.
                                a kamikaze leaf that stood no chance and chose to leap,
            that last fragment of arboreal decoration gave its life for its mother
its mother would not return the favor.

               My memories have died

                                                                          they jumped to their death
                and they will rot
                                              until no one remembers to

                                                         mourn them.

The formatting of the final poem is a bit odd within blogger so to see the proper formatting visit the link (click the title).