I should be reading for class right now, but instead, I’m typing another pointless post about nothing in particular. The ice is falling from the sky and tapping my window. It’s kinda creepy to be honest. It sounds like something you’d hear in a horror film. Anyway, my school decided to cancel classes for tomorrow, so that’s lovely. Now, if only work would say, hey you don’t have to come in. But, I know that’s asking too much and we wouldn’t want to do that. But, I am happy to have a job nonetheless. I don’t really have anything to say. I was just thinking I haven’t written anything in awhile so I decided to get on here and ramble about nothing. I hope ya’ll are warm and cozy. May you have a lovely night and as always, happy reading!! 😀
I’m a simple person. There are no complexities to me other than the molecules in my body. I was born and raised on a farm in Tennessee. Growing up, my parents worked hard to provide for us and make sure we had a very good upbringing. My dad not only was a pastor but also chief deputy, a cook at a local restaurant and, in the winter, ran our family business: deer processing. My mom was meat manager at a local grocery and in the winter ran the deer processing place as well. They instilled in my brothers and me, hard work, dedication, the value of a dollar, honesty, and many other values that went into making me the woman I am today. My great-uncle owned a farm and from planting to harvest, my cousins, brothers, and I helped. If there’s one overarching value I remember, it’s hard work.
I began college in the fall of 09 and have been on my educational journey ever since. I’m and English education major and love learning and reading. My college career mainly consists of English courses. And in those courses, the main focus is reading texts and interpreting them. I have been constantly criticized for the simplicity in my views. I don’t use big words to mask my indifference or my ineptness. I don’t hide behind books because I feel everything else is of no importance. If I have problems with a task, I will tell you. Just because I know big words, I’m not going to use them unless I feel they’re vital to the subject-matter. Just because I understand grammar, I’m not going to be pedant. Once you get deep into your content focus and past the gen-eds, you begin to have classes with the same people. A few new faces do pop up every now and then, however it’s mostly the same ones. You get to know them, how they answer questions, whether you like their answers or not, whether you like them as a person or not, etc. In return, they obviously get to know you. As an English major, I do not fit in with other English majors. They’re over there talking about Dr.Who and the latest developments in the Creation vs. Evolution debate and I’m sitting over here thinking, “what in the hell are they talking about?” They’re criticizing people who believe in creation and I’m one of them. They’re also criticizing people who do not watch Dr. Who and I haven’t seen the first episode. They’re talking about Harry Potter and I’ve never read the books or watched the movies. They’re talking about how they hate conservative republicans and although I don’t particularly consider myself either, most of my views do favor those of the conservative/republican party.
My thoughts on things are very simple and many of my classmates make fun of me for it. I used to let it bother me. But, as they’ve made their snide comments thinking I don’t understand, I’ve actually accepted my simplicity. I want to be a teacher so, in my opinion, my simplicity is actually a benefit. When I’m up in front of a class teaching them about the wonderful world of literature, simplicity is what is going to make them understand what in the hell is going on. I would much rather be a simple mind like myself, than be someone who’s astoundingly intelligent and can’t break down the complexities students encounter with literature to where students can actually understand them. I’ve had teachers like that and they honestly pissed me off.
So, with all this being said, whoever you are and whatever your talents may be, do them well and be thankful for them. Although you may not understand why you were made a specific way, one day you will and it will bring your mind peace and joy because everything will finally make sense. Do not disrespect yourself, the world does enough of that. Love yourself! Love who you are. Love what you do and love how you do it! Best wishes and happy reading!! 😀
So, ever since we were little we were told, be it by our parents, friends, family, society, or what have you, to treat yourself and others with respect. Heck! Aretha Franklin even sang a song about it. But women, whether you want to believe it or not, are held to a higher/different standard. If a man curses, whatever. If a woman curses, we’re considered unladylike. If a man sleeps around, good for him. If a woman sleeps around, she’s a whore. Society, in my opinion, places more stress on women to hold to their chastity until marriage, than they place on men. Now before I go any deeper, allow me to make clear what I mean by chastity. Chastity is different from virginity. Chastity means not only staying chaste until marriage, but also staying true to one’s significant other. Virginity is abstaining from sexual intercourse. The difference between the two is a woman can be married and not a virgin, but still be considered chaste. However, said woman can be married and have sex and not be a virgin. Make sense? Moving on . . . I’m 22 years old, soon to be 23, and I’m still a virgin. When people find out, the main response I get is, “good for you; stay that way.” I was brought up in a very Christian home. My dad was a pastor therefore everyone in our town held me, as well as my brothers to a higher standard. Well, my dad is gone now and it’s just my mom and me. My oldest brother is married. My middle brother is living in Florida with his girlfriend attending law school; they’ve been living together for about 4 years now, so most of their college career. Anyhow, my parents never once scolded him for living with her even though she and my brother are not married. My parents were the type of parents where they didn’t care if so-and-so were doing it, they did frown upon it, but they wouldn’t judge them for it. However, they preached to us not to do it. And that’s fine because God in heaven knows I’m thankful for my raising. Anyway, moving right along. My mom and I were on the phone the other night talking and the subject of virginity was brought up and she knows I’m still a virgin. But, I asked her what she would do if I were to lose my virginity. I recieved an earful. About ten minutes later when she was finished, I said, you weren’t a virgin when you married dad, and dad wasn’t a virgin when he married you. And my brother, the one who lives with his girlfriend in Florida, lost his when he was 14. So, I’ve held on to mine for longer than any of ya’ll. She kinda laughed. And I asked her, why does it matter so much if I want to lose my virginity before I’m married? None of ya’ll waited; so, why’s it different for me? Needless to say, after about 20 or so minutes of discussion, I never got a straight answer.
Now, going back to the part where I’m about to be 23. There’s this guy at work (guy A). He’s really attractive; but, he’s a downright player. He’s the guy ya’ll hear about that has “different hoes in different area codes.” Anyhow, I’ve very seriously considered telling him my birthday is coming up and as a gift, I want him to take my virginity. The only thing stopping me is the fact that I know I would feel like manure when it was all over. He, this other guy who we’re pretty good friends with (guy B), and I were talking the other night at work and they began describing guy A’s current slam buddy. Guy B was saying how differently she dressed and was saying these really mean things about her and guy A agreed. Well, I asked guy A if she’s that bad, then why are you ‘seeing’ her? He said, “because, she has a nice rack.” Our conversation continues, a few things were said about me and guy A says I can’t do this and turns around and walks off. I asked guy B what was up with that and he said, “it’s cause you’re a virgin.” That pissed me off. I replied, “so he can talk like that about her but he can’t talk about boobs to me?” Our conversation continued and slowly dwindled down. We moved on to various topics for the rest of the night then said our goodbyes as quitting-time came. However, I was still munching on what happened earlier. It pisses me off that he treated me like a piece of fragile, sacred, glass like if he kept talking to me about sex, boobs, etc. I was going to break. And all this really made me think about how society views women talking about sex and how they view men talking about sex and not only talking about it, but also having it, or the lack thereof (porn). If guys talk “locker room talk” it’s all fine and dandy; but, if a woman were to say half of those things she would be considered crude and heaven forbid she say she has watched, currently watches, or has seen porn. It irritates me that women can’t live their lives the way they want to without society having some double-standard bull shit to go along with it. Don’t get me wrong, things have gotten better; but, they’re no where near where they need to be.
Since I was a little girl, I have had a certain fascination with storms. I think they are absolutely beautiful. I remember looking out the sliding glass door in our kitchen and watching the wind blow the leaves. And by looking at them, I knew a storm was coming in. It would be a hot summer day and we would be sitting on our patio swinging and talking and just letting the world go on by. Then, off in the distance I would hear the thunder roll and I knew a storm was in the making. I would leave and go the the side of the house and sit on the hot asphalt and face North-West. There was nothing there but our yard and the field, about a 100 yards on was a holler. I would sit there and I could feel the asphalt warming my legs and hands; it felt good. The sky overhead would be just as blue as any hot Summer day. But, in the North-West, beyond the holler, and just above the trees, I would see big thunderheads. I had learned in school that those were properly called cumulonimbus clouds. I didn’t care what they were properly called. All I cared about was what was behind them. I would sit there in silence taking in all the sounds around me: my dad’s big-bellied laugh as he made homemade banana ice cream, my mom’s southern euphemisms, the sound of my uncle’s chaw hitting the spittoon that was sitting on the patio next to his can of RC Cola, my older brother getting his last few cannon balls in before the storm hits, the rhythmic thwarps of my oldest brother’s arrow hitting his Styrofoam practice target, and the faded noise of the highway that ran by my house. In an odd way, it was all so soothing. I knew we had a good hour to hour-and-a-half before the storm actually hit. And I was going to be there every minute of it. As the thunderheads inched their way east and overhead they became flat, and the closer they got to me, the darker they became. And, in my, unscientific, inexperienced, opinion the darker the better. The clouds overhead were grey and the farther West you look the darker they got. The clouds were all coming together making one large system. You couldn’t tell one cloud from the next. They really didn’t have any form. Sitting there, a soft breeze began to blow and the sun was completely blocked out. Although it was only 5 p.m. it looked as if it were 8. As the breeze kept blowing, I felt the coolness and knew the rain wasn’t far away. As I was thinking about the rain a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. About 2 minutes later lightening lit up the clouds over the treetops. As the minutes passed, I felt the temperature drop. It went from being about 88 to being about 64 in a matter of about fifteen minutes. That told me it was going to be a good one. Sitting there soaking in the last few moments of dryness, I felt a change in mood. My brother’s cannonballs had stopped, traffic had slowed, and my dad’s laughter had ceased. The thwarps of the arrow hitting the target were the only constant. It sounded like a timer just waiting to go off. I began counting the time between the thwarps in my head. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand so on and so forth. As I was counting, I heard something in the distance. It sounded like a big breeze blowing. But, I knew better. It was rain. In less than 10 seconds, the rain began pelting my skin. I laid on my back and let the asphalt warm me as the rain hit all over my body. Then a large roar of thunder sounded, the kind you feel in your rib cage. I heard my mom yell to my brother “get out of the pool” my other brother put his target in the shed and took his bow and arrows in the house. My uncle grabbed in spittoon and RC Cola, my dad grabbed the ice cream, and my mom grabbed the patio chairs’ cushions. They all hurried inside. I laid there, smiling to myself, as the rain continuously pelted my skin and soaked me. About that time my mom called out the back door for me to come inside. My smile faded and my heart sank. I knew that it was over. All the excitement was done and it was just constant rain, thunder, and lightening from here on until the morning. But, the good thing was, storms happen quiet frequently in the Summer, unless we’re in a drought, and something even better, each storm is different. So, I got up, ran barefooted to the back door, and began smiling once again because I knew it was only the end of May, and I had two more months full of opportunities to watch plenty more storms come rolling in.
Just as I think physical storms are beautiful, why can’t I think the storms I go through in my life are equally as beautiful? Each storm I face gives me a chance to grow and mature just as physical storms make plants grow and mature. Each storm brings a new opportunity for me to become more of me, if that makes sense. It allows me to get where I need to be. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but that thought hit me tonight as I was reading. So, anyhow, I hope you all are snuggled up safely and I hope you have a great day at school/work tomorrow! Happy reading! 😀
Hey, everyone! I hope this post finds you warm and comfy in your home, whether you’re sitting by a warm fire or snuggled up in your cozy bed. 😀 I honestly don’t have anything to say, I’m just trying to post more frequently so I am able to remember to do so and a year doesn’t go by before I type my next post. Tonight, I was able to actually watch the Super Bowl for once in the past few years. I was pulling for the Broncos, but of course they didn’t win. I watched with one of my roommates. It was nice to actually be off work by the time the game started. We talked about various topics, from the weather outside to feminism and everything in between. This morning when I went into work, I was able to talk to a girl with whom I used to attend high school. She and I used to be inseparable. Honestly, we were like sisters. Then things began to happen; we were at two very different places in our lives and we just . . . went different ways. Although, now we both attend the same university. She’s one of the student managers at my place of employment and we’ve always been civil to one another. I’ve honestly missed our friendship, but I didn’t know what to do or say to try and convey that. I just let bygones be bygones. Well, as a rule where we work, when you’re cashier, you have to have a student manager in the office with you when you’re counting your drawer. Today like every other Sunday, she was the manager on duty and she went into the office with me. I was sitting there counting the money when she just asked if I had talked to one of our mutual friends lately. I replied no. She said, well she had a baby here a while back, got married, and is now expecting her second child. We talked about how time has flown and how it’s weird being friends with someone for so long and them having a baby. We talked about her parents and everything they went through and how times have changed us all. Honestly, it was really nice and I’m crying just thinking back on it. But, me crying nowadays is nothing unusual (see last post). I honestly do miss her. We shared so many good times and made so many wonderful memories. I would love for us to go back to being as close as we were if not closer. But, I honestly have no idea how that is going to happen. I watched a movie growing up called Anne of Green Gables. It’s a wonderful movie and I highly recommend it. Anyhow, in it Anne and Diana Berry are good friends and Anne refers to her as her “bosom friend” and “kindred spirit.” I had no idea what either of them meant and my mom told me, “those phrases can’t be explained; they have to be felt.” I honestly believed my mother didn’t know the definition, either that or she was crazy. But now, I know exactly what those two phrases mean because I did feel them and they were some of the two most wonderfully memorable feelings I have ever felt. I hope and pray she and I can become close once again; because, I’m not gonna lie, when we stopped being friends, I felt a little piece of me die. And since, I have never been able to resuscitate that piece of me.
You know, every day I think to myself I could be doing something different with my life. I could be traveling the world at this very second. Instead, I’m sitting in my bed sipping apple chamomile tea listening to the rain dance with the gutter outside my window. I’m constantly thinking about how different my life could be instead of being thankful for what it is. God has truly blessed me with an amazing life that I absolutely do not deserve. I was born with a very tender heart. Sometimes, I get angry that my heart is so tender and how I feel everything so deeply. Sometimes, I wish I were more hard-hearted like my grandmother. In all my 22 years, I’ve seen that woman cry maybe three times. My dad, her son, passed away and I never saw her shed a tear, not at the hospital, not while making arrangements, not during visitation, not during the funeral, nothing. And I just thought to myself, wow, I wish I could hold my composure like that. I hate being so weak. I over-think things constantly and I begin to cry. I think about the past; I cry. I think about the future; I cry. A certain song comes on the radio; I cry. It takes nothing for me to cry anymore and I hate it. I think about how different my life would be if I decided not to attend college. But, in all honesty, I couldn’t ask for a better life. Yeah, shit has happened. But everyone has shit happen and it’s just that, shit. You kick grass over it and move forward. It’s very difficult though. But, it’s nights like tonight that I am thankful. I try and be thankful every night, but when I stop and think about my life, and think how far I’ve come. I do become overwhelmed at how God has blessed me. I have some very wonderful friends, a mom who loves me and will do anything to give me a better life than what she had, a brother who is in law school, another brother who is married to an amazing woman. I’m surrounded by books that are patiently waiting to be read. I’m surrounded by beautiful people who are waiting to be met. I’m surrounded by places that are waiting to be visited and I’m surrounded by music that is waiting to be felt. All in all, I’d say I have a pretty great life. I know this post probably doesn’t make a lick of sense; but, this is what my thoughts are right now. I have an amazing life and an amazing God who gave it to me and I take it all for granted all too often. To whomever is reading this, wherever you are, and whatever you may be going through, it gets better. I am here if you wanna chat. Just message me. And to those of you who may not need/want to talk, I’m praying for you. Honestly, I pray for all of ya’ll. I hope each and every one of you have an amazing night. Rest well. Tomorrow is a new day and a clean slate. G’night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite. 😀
Wow! So, I haven’t written in over a year! I’ve just been so busy with everything going on I haven’t had the time. But, I was talking to one of my friends the other day and I got to thinking on something we discussed. If you’re too busy for a little down time be it for God, reading, writing, yoga, sports, whatever, then you’re too busy. Everyone needs something in their life to use as a relaxation method. Mine just so happens to be writing. So, with that being said, I plan to begin writing more frequently. I need to get back in the habit. If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it. So, look for more post from me coming more frequently. . . That can be good or bad. 😀