God Left When the Old Lady Moved In

When I was a little girl, I loved church. I really, really loved church. And I wanted to marry Jesus when I grew up. No...not be a nun, but marry Jesus. I was very upset when I realized that couldn't happen.
I looked forward to mass every Sunday. I loved the smell of the church. The cool, slick feeling of the wooden pews. The clink of the kneeling bench as you lowered it to pray. And then I would stare at the altar, memorizing every nook and cranny and finally settling on looking at Christ. After telling God everything, I would grab the hymnal and start looking up the songs we would get to seen, squeaking if it were the ones I really loved. Plus, we would get to sing the Gloria, which was my favorite. If we had mass at school during the week, that was all the better. I was so completely in love with God. I talked to him constantly. We had a table in the living room that had this drawer with candles and matches. I would light candles every day and kneel there and pray. God was my dearest friend.
Things changed when my Nanny moved in about four and a half years ago. She was a Saturday evening mass person. She wanted us to attend mass as a family and so we did. I had not been to a Saturday evening mass since I was baptized when I was five months old. It was a complete and total let down. At first, I thought, "How lovely." The evening sun added a warmth to everything. But then, mass started. And it came time to sing the 'Gloria'. Only there was no music. And then the responsorial songs...only there was no music. Surely this was a mistake! I decided that perhaps the music people were sick. Or on vacation. Next week would be better. It wasn't. Week after week with little music. And just like in real life for me....NO music equals a slow decent into hell. Music has and will save me from the brink of dying.
Each week, our Saturday family time was cut short by 'having to get ready for mass'. No more day trips. No working in the yard in the cool of the evening. No more family dinner and a movie nights. Any disregard for mass now was met with temper tantrums and rantings. Mass became an obligation. A hideous obligation. It felt as though God just packed his bags and left.
And he left our home, too.
My mom was raised Baptist and prayers before meals were more free-thought and meaningful. Nanny only wanted 'Bless Us O Lord...' and prayer changed at our table. Fridays during Lent became hell. Mom was allergic to shellfish, but that seemed to be all Fran wanted as her 'no meat' dinner. For my mom to prepare food that she could not eat and should not touch. Holy Days of obligation meant that someone was going to have to leave work in order to get Nanny to mass. Because a 7pm Spanish/English mass was too long and the church was full of 'them'.
I know that no one can make you do anything without your permission. I understand that. But you can be bullied into submission to make things go smoother.
My Nanny moved to a nursing home when mom had a heart attack. Mom couldn't take care of her anymore. She's not coming back.
There will be no more disdainful discussions about overweight people, ethnic origins, southerners, protestants, the neighbors or politics. There will be no more alcoholism. There will be no more whining and temper tantrums. No more diatribes on the wonders of her daughter and her bastard (both literally and euphemistically) son. No more listening to her tell my mom what a failure she is for not giving my father more children. Or at least a son. No more listening to her tell my dad that she was doing her duty to have him and that he owes her a debt of gratitude.
However....the music has returned to our home. Friends have trickled back into our lives. We have animals again. Our house has gone from feeling like a brick hell to a real home.

I can't help but wonder....is it too late to see if God would like to move back in now?

Grounded

I'm grounded. I've never been grounded before....ever. I thought I'd look the word up just to make certain I understood the concept. Here is what I found:

grounded-adj. Sensible and down-to-earth; having one's feet on the ground.

I'm fairly certain that the complete opposite is what got me into trouble in the first place. So really, I'm grounded for being ungrounded. I'm sensing an argument coming on that could by my freedom through confusion. Hmmm.....

Mom is looking over my shoulder and says, "Don't even try it, young lady."

The funny thing is, since it is such a new concept, no one really knew how to approach it--the grounding. I mean, what do I do? Not do volunteer work for a few weeks? Not attend lectures at Berry? Not spend as much social time online? Well, maybe that one...but somehow I need the friends more than ever. Take away my music and art supplies? My parents know I would physically die.

My punishment, at first, seems as kooky as everything about us: I no longer stay at home to do my coursework. I go to Berry. I do my work in an extra office where my mom works. I do research in the library. I do phys ed at the Cage center. It's like day school in paradise. Berry is one of my most favorite places on earth.

It seems crazy, but grounding has really become something intangible. It's knowing that I was given a gift....trust...and I didn't cherish it. It's knowing that I will have to suck it up (the feminist in me doesn't want to say 'man up') and look someone in the eyes and apologize. It's searching for a way to right the wrongs. It's looking at myself in a different way and wondering what need I'm trying to fill and what the more positive course would be. Mostly, it's knowing I received an amazing gift....a person, a heart, a deep soul friend, a love....and didn't treat is as one of my most precious treasures. Perhaps being grounded will help me become more grounded after all.

Thanksgiving 2010

I'm going to start by talking about Halloween. It is by far my favorite holiday, but one of the things I love about Halloween is it's the kick-off for the holiday season. From November to January, we have Thanksgiving, two birthdays, Hanukkah, Christmas and New Year. It's like 60 days of festivities...and you gotta love that!
As I get older, the holidays take on new and different meanings. When you're a kid, Thanksgiving is the Macy's parade, hoping you don't miss the Snoopy balloon and looking forward to dessert later. Cousins come over and you have extra playmates for the day. It's like the dress rehearsal for Christmas. It's hearing your family go around the table and talk about abstract things they are thankful for. Watching them get teary-eyed and wondering what that's about. It's running through the dining room past the sideboard and never seeing the place cards, made years before, that have been laid out in memory of people who are no longer there.
This year, just weeks shy of my sixteenth birthday, I find myself moving from the ranks of child to adult...reflecting teary-eyed over the past year and everything for which I'm so very thankful.

• I spent a month in Europe. I had planned on it being a visit of sight-seeing-arriving with list in hand of all the places I wanted to see. I never expected it to be an experience on the scale that it was. I gained new friends, new life experiences, lost my faith in someways and found it anew in others. I got to know my family in ways that I never thought I could. I thought it would be like a trip to Disney-lots of fun, cute photos and great stories. It was a life changing experience.
  
• I got a bunny. If you know me, then you know I love bunnies. I have dozens of stuffed bunnies. I sleep with them, travel with them, snuggle with them. Now I have a real one. A Holland Llop named S'mores.
  
• My paternal grandmother moved from our house. I won't go further. Again...if you know me, you know it's a really, really good thing.
  
• My mom survived a heart attack. This would be the thing about which I'm most thankful. It has given her a new life, a new perspective and to me a new mom.
  
• A kindred spirit...life traveler....soul mate...best friend.
  
• I finally have a home. Two, to be honest. A brick home and a heart home.
• I'm thankful for arms, legs, hands and feet...a whole body.
  
• Friends...new ones, old ones, ones that love you no matter what you do, but especially Cyberfriends. Who knew you could connect on such deep levels with people you have never met?
  
• Facebook. Is that crazy? In real life, I'm a dork. A geek. A nerd. I dress funny, do weird things to my hair. On Facebook...I don't really have a physical identity, except for a tiny picture. What I do have is a voice.
  
• Emily Satterfield. She absolutely rocks my world! In my worst moments: Being heartbroken. Being so lonely I think I would die from it. Being so sad and depressed I wanted to die. Being so afraid for my mom. Emily sends small notes with big impact: Are you okay? I miss you and I love you.
  
• Lastly, my family. The whole kooky bunch. For the ones that teach me valuable lessons and the ones that just serve as a warning. For the ones living and the ones who are only alive in my heart. For the family of my future. And for family that is of no blood relation to me at all-but family of the heart.
  

The down side of reflection is, of course, the acknowledgment of things I might not be so thankful for. I've lost friends, betrayed trust, made stupid, thoughtless decisions, missed opportunities to make a difference, and wonder a great deal if I've put myself beyond redemption.
My only hope is that if I learn the lessons in all of this, I can move even the worst experiences into the 'thankful' column.

So here I stand, on the cusp of being considered an adult. Although, I want fervently to believe adolescence does end at 27. I need more time to mature. But, I find my reflections, at least, to be more mature. I understand the teary-eyed memories. I miss those people on the old place cards. I don't mind pulling out the old family albums and hearing the funny stories about my family. And, for the first time ever, I think I'll be okay if I miss the Snoopy balloon.

I Missed the Boat

I miss stuff. Not in the longing sense, but more in that absent-minded professor way of getting sidetracked and missing stuff. Big stuff, little stuff, life stuff....My mom can tell me a dozen times that something is going to occur...something I want or need...and I miss it.

Today, I missed the boat. The Love Boat actually. I missed an amazing opportunity into the dynamics of relationships. What exactly did I miss? I don't know. I just know that it was BIG STUFF. And it was about love.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm an examiner. A self-examiner. I analyze myself to annoyance. My head, my heart, my soul, my spirituality, my feminism, my thighs (most annoying right now), my relationships. Just everything. So, trust me when I say I know myself.

Now back to love....and what it is....does anyone really know?

My mom has this old shawl. It's lovely...it really is. It's cashmere and warm. And the color is perfect and whenever she wears it, people always comment on it. It's about 25 years old. You don't know that at first glance, because she's taken care of it. Followed the instructions on cleaning it. Stored it safely and treasured it.

To me that is what love is like.

She will tell you about how she saved her money to buy the shawl. She didn't charge it and pay more than she needed. She saved and waited until she could afford it. There is a lot to be said for waiting. Especially in our world of immediate gratification. But you can still see joy on her face when she recalls actually buying the shawl. Then she will show you the things you don't see: the small tear from a kitten chewing on it, a couple of moth eaten holes, places that are worn thin from wear, one piece of fringe missing (most likely another kitten) and couple of places at the edge that have unraveled.

How is that like love, you ask? From the beginning, it's like buying the shawl. There is such giddiness about something new that you have wanted, had to 'save up' to obtain. You are happy to show off your love-write it in the sky or doodle it on the pages of your journals. You drag out your shawl on every cold day, regardless of how it looks or matches. YOU think it matches everything!

The next year, you get chilly and think about dragging out your beautiful shawl. Ah....now it's both functional and fashionable. You still love it-the way it looks, how people admire it, but now it keeps you warm and dry. As the years pass, though it is still lovely, it's the comfort that you long for and appreciate the most from your shawl. It's knowing that it will still be a prized possession after years of rain, cold, mud, kids drying the dog with it (sorry mom), wiping tears and runny noses with it (sorry again), wrapping up as many kids and animals as possible.
Years go by and you pull it out during inclement weather...sort of like relationships. You get so busy with life and realize you're cold or wet or need comfort and out comes the shawl. Eventually, you leave it tossed on a chair year round, because the need and desire for it is now more frequent.
To me that is an allegory for love. In the beginning, the beauty and newness is overwhelming. You want the world to know about this crazy thing you feel. As time passes, it is still so beautiful, but function takes over and the real living begins. Love is knowing that there will be stormy-days of thinking you will never sleep again when your children are born, days of hectic schedules, thinking that you haven't seen your husband for weeks except in passing. It's knowing that eventually parents will pass on and already wondering how you will get your spouse through that terrible time. It's knowing that you might outlive your children and getting through that, too. It's knowing that one day, you might be taking care of your spouse because he is no longer able. It's all that and a million unforeseen things in between.
If you ask my mom why she spent so much on her shawl, she'll tell you that it was worth every penny. Quality, she says, will last forever.

I know quality when I see it. The kind that will mature, age beautifully, be a constant source of warmth and shelter and love.

I wish whoever created the shawl knew how much joy, warmth and happiness my mom derived from it. This is where love can be a little different: I can say thank you. I don't know how the love will wear, but I know that it will wear forever. Because of the love you put into it before I ever got here.

Have you walked in my Converse?

I hate conflict. Any type of conflict. From the lady at the grocery store that can be mean to peers that can say horrible things. I don't even like movies with conflict. And when I come face to face with any sort of antagonistic behavior...I walk away. I turn the other cheek. I...am...a...doormat. But, I will, however, argue any point in a rational manner. To me that is not conflict, but an expression of ideas and sometimes an 'agree to disagree' situation. I don't mind those. They show me how to live peacefully with difference.
But as for conflict....I just can't take it. And I am surrounded by it. At home, at church activities and just everyday life.
That would be reason one that you do not find me among my peers.
Reason two? My grandmother. My dad's mom. That horrible, unhappy, miserable woman with whom I cannot do anything to please her. She has been in poor health for a few years and basically home bound since spring. There is the occasional jaunt to mass out of obligation, but even that stopped around Easter. My father works on weekends and weekdays. My mother is home on weekends. And therefore bound to take care of my grandmother. We could go no where and do nothing. Since we homeschool, the majority of course work was shifted to the weekend, a schedule we have kept. I would occasionally venture out with a friend, but I hated leaving my mom. Nanny is verbally abusive and hateful.
In July, Nanny became so ill that we could no longer care for her. And she moved to nursing home. On doctors orders. She felt like she could stay home and let my mom continue to care for her.
But mom had a heart attack a week later. And every thing changed....and I think for the better in most ways. Nanny will not be coming back to live with us. Mom will not be her primary care giver anymore. But, still the dynamics of the house changed. Dad was trying to see his mom everyday and care for his wife. My boyfriend at the time, Matt, came and spent five weeks with us. Helping out around the house, doing some of the chores mom and dad were unable to catch up on and keeping me sane during all of this. One catch.....no mass. No trying to convert Matt. His mom was raised Catholic...left the church at 18 and never looked back. And she would not tolerate her children being raised Catholic.
It isn't as though I haven't attended a church at all. I went almost everyday in Europe. And we have visited several churches in town. And traveled to St. Clement's, St. Bernadette's and St. Jude's. Just because I haven't been at Our Lady of the Country Club doesn't mean I'm not attending somewhere.
I've been very fortunate that my friends have helped me a great deal. I've noticed that none of them are under the age of 21....so not my peers. But my friends come in all ages and faiths....but it is my PSR teachers that have taken the time to make certain I am alright. Mr. Rusty, Ms. Cochran, Mrs. Schaekel, Mrs. Farmer, Mrs. Diller and Mr. Clay. Without them, I truly would be lost.
So, that is my accountability. I've been here. I volunteer with groups from Berry. I pray daily....sometimes hourly. That is what happens when you struggle with your faith. I spend time with other people at the nursing home...one because they seem lonely and two, because the genuinely seem to enjoy my company and I always leave far more blessed. And I still homeschool....more on weekends. And we are getting away more. We've been taking care of parents, friends and family for 15 years. Now, we are free. And I don't think that is so wrong to enjoy it.
I just have one thing left to say.....where have you been?

European Toilets

I know you're thinking, "Really, Abbie? Toilets?" Yes.....toilets. Using the restroom, WC (Water Closet), Toilet, Wasser or Squat and Aim is a crazy experience.
In Switzerland, there are a wide variety of toilets and facilities. At the best, you have mcClean (no, not owned by the Golden Arches). You have to pay. One Swiss Franc for men. Two for Women. But they have attendants and are extremely clean. At first glance, the toilets basically look familiar. Flushing is the obstacle here. How do you flush? There generally isn't a handle. You become accustomed to looking for the flushing mechanism as soon as you enter a bathroom. Some toilets have buttons on the top of the tank. Some have large buttons on the wall behind the tank. Some have pedals on the floor that you step on. I had a serious preoccupation with the toilet system. Second to McClean's were the self cleaning toilets. At a cheese factory in Gruyere, the toilet seat actually did a full rotation into a sanitizing/cleaning machine behind the toilet. Has Walmart heard of this?

In a public park in Bern, there is a toilet that, at first glance, resembles a torture chamber. (See picture above) The 'seat' is actually flipped up against the wall and you have to pull it down to sit upon it. It has side handles. Think movie theater seats. And how annoying it is to try and sit on one when your hands are full and it flips up before you can get seated. Yep. And for this one, flipping up starts the flushing process. I think I wasted about 20 gallons of water just trying to get on. I kept expecting someone to ask me for a ticket for the ride. It was actually an amazing work of function once I started studying it. And there was a convenient repository for syringes, razor blades and other sharp objects, or so the pictoral sign indicated. In the restroom-in the public park.
My least favorite experience is what they call 'Squat and Aim'. Think two slightly elevated runner's blocks with raised grooves to prevent slippage. (Oh, dear) and a hole in the floor. That's pretty much it. I kept thinking that if God had intended for me to aim, I wouldn't be a girl. I don't hang with people that are obsessed with writing their name in the snow or hitting targets. Add to that a backpack, a purse and a couple of shopping bags and you have EPIC FAIL for this klutzy girl.
I do have to say,though, that finding a facility in Switzerland was far easier than in Italy.
In Italy, there are hardly any public restrooms. If you find one, it is usually in the back of a shop or in the basement. And, generally, there are no toilet seats. Only the bowl. The extremely cold bowl. I think at some point, apparently Italian women griped a little too much about men not putting the seat back down, so they were banned. At first glance, you think, um....naked toilet....and something else is off, but you can't place what it is because you're also looking for how to flush. You find the button on the wall and push. And push. And push and then furiously start pumping with your palm. Then, you are rewarded with this hugh rush of water that frightens you because it is 3-4 feet over your head. Ah....that's the other thing that was odd, you realize. The tank is on the wall at the ceiling.
I can, as you see, pondered all of this a great deal. Euro-peein' isn't for the faint of heart or unadventurous soul. And, I know the answer to the age old question, "Does a bear shit in the woods?"
Why, yes, I believe he does. He tried European toilets and found the woods to be easier. Just saying.

Merry Christmas-The American Inquisition

Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas. Glad Noel. Happy Hannukah. Blessed Be. Happy Kwanzaa.

I keep getting these 'Keep Christ in Christmas' and 'Don't Be Ashamed of Merry Christmas' emails. It reminds me of the following quote:"I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." Mahatma Gandhi

It's funny-my Jewish friends and family do not feel the need to force Chanukah blessings on me.
My pagan/wiccan friends do not shower me with Merry Meet or Blessed Be anytime of the year.
My buddhist friends continually wish me happiness and enlightenment, but not on any particular season.
My atheist and agnostic friends do not bombard me with questions or accusations.
Some how, we all acknowledge each other, no matter what time of year, with open arms.

So why the American Inquisition? The message I'm getting is "You go into those department stores and wish them a Merry Christmas!! Let them know you are a Christian, by God!! Do you want Jesus to think that you are ashamed of Him?"

I don't think of it as political correctness, although I don't think that's a bad thing. But wouldn't you rather someone think of you as a follower of Christ because of how you show kindness and understanding rather than your loud shouts of 'Merry Christmas' or your manger pin on your sweater or your fish family on your car bumper? We are supposed to be a land of religious freedom. Not whoever got here first gets to dominate. Sort of defeats the reason many of our ancestors came here, doesn't it?

I want to live so that people come to me quietly and say, "Hey, what is it in you....." And I can say, "Well, there's this amazing guy...*blushes*...that I am crazy in love with...let me tell you about him. Let me tell you how much he loves me and loves you, too. Let me tell you about how not only he can heal you and all your broken pieces, but wants to use you and your broken pieces to show others how he loves them." And if people are not asking me about about Christ, then I'm not doing it right.
I know that I struggle with my faith daily. I struggle with the religion I practice. But one thing I do not struggle with is my love for Christ. I am a full-out Jesus junkie. I wanna be like Mary and just sit at his feet listening to every word he says. And, I want to tell everyone I meet this holiday season, "Peace be with you." And they will know who I am because of what's in my heart, not what comes from my mouth.

The Dating Game

Dating. It's really a game for the most part isn't it? It's like trying on clothes to see what fits. Or choosing the right plants for your home. I look horrible in skinny jeans, but pretty good in a comfortable pair of painter's pants. I'm an orchid as far as plants go. Overly sensitive, easily gets my feelings hurt. I wish I were more like a cactus. But, all in all, I can't help but think that there are some rules that should be universal. Think of this as a bucket list of dating. We always think, "Hey, if there were just a manual about guys/girls. Life would be simpler." This isn't my complete manual, but it's a good start. I think everyone should put a manual about themselves, or in some cases a warning label, right out there for people. It would make the guessing part of relationships a lot easier.

DO (we'll start with the good stuff):

1. Make me laugh
2. Listen to me
3. Talk to me-really talk to me-about anything
4. Be passionate about something-school, sports, books, music, video games, anything, just give your all to something
5. Be yourself. Completely. You don't have to put on an act with me. Ever.
6. Eat with me
7. Hold my hand
8. Trust me
9. Call, write me a letter or email or something at least more than once a week
10. Be my friend

See how easy that is? Some people require more, but it's basic. Do what you would want them to do. And if you don't want to do the basics, then you probably shouldn't be dating yet.

DON'T (now the not so good stuff, but helpful none the less)

1. Don't have a crush on someone else when we're dating. I don't care who she is.
2. Don't ask other girls for their phone numbers.
3. Don't talk about your exes. Even to say unkind things. That lets me know that one day, you'll do that about me, too.
4. Don't call me once a week and tell me you forgot to call me and that you have to cancel our plans.
5. Don't berate me for political or religious (or lack there of) ideologies. Chances are I think yours are stupid, too, but I wouldn't say that to you.
6. Don't tell me that you don't know why you haven't called, but you've certainly had time to do so.
7. If you hear some gossip about me, ask a friend or something. Ask my parents. Don't ask me. Don't assume it's true and ask me "Why would so-and-so lie?" I don't really know. Maybe they're misinformed or opening their mouths to talk about something when they don't have their facts correct. My question is, "Why would you doubt me?"
8. Don't get mad when I kick your butt at video games. I've been doing this a while and yes, I'm that good.
9. Don't hurt my feelings because you're insecure.
10. In our world "Not calling = Not caring". I know that some girls call guys and it's acceptable nowadays. Not this girl. I was raised that calling boys is trashy. There are exceptions. A few.

See, that's easy, too! It's a general list, but I think a decent, handy one.

For me, there are extras: take me to a museum; tell me about bands you like-I love music of most any kind; read to me or talk about books with me; be a gentleman-I don't think that opening doors and pulling out chairs is antiquated or chauvinistic; tell me I smell nice. Failure to do these things will result in the 'reset' button being pushed and game will be over.

Abbie Lyon's Bucket List

• Be really passionate about a cause and do something instead of thinking about it.
• Make out my will and keep it updated.
• Drive on the Autobahn.
• SCUBA dive in the Great Barrier Reef.
• Kiss the Blarney Stone
• Kiss someone on the Eiffel Tower
• Tour Italy from top to bottom
• Float in the Dead Sea
• Take a boat on the Nile
• Leave a Prayer on the Western Wall
• Step foot on every continent
• Spend a year in Japan
• Party in Rio during Carnival
• Visit the Blue Grotto
• Backpack across Europe
• Visit Loch Ness
• Attend a concert in Vienna
• Visit the Great Wall of China
• Spend three months in a Buddhist Prayer center
• Ride the Orient Express
• Hear an opera at La Scala (maybe next summer in Europe?)
• Sing for the NY Metropolitan Opera
• Teach someone illiterate to read
• Shower in a waterfall
• Hanglide
• Learn to throw a pot
• Write and Illustrate a children's book
• Learn to Ballroom dance
• Live in a commune for atleast a year or start my own
• Ride a camel
• Go on an investigation with TAPS
• Work with Adam and Jamie on Mythbusters
• Spend the night someplace haunted
• Learn to use chopsticks with my hands and feet
• Visit Transylvania
• Build a house with Habitat for Humanity
• Stand among the Redwoods
• Turtle Rescue
• Enjoy kissing
• Blindly point to a destination on a map and hop on a plane
• Learn Japanese, Mandarin Chinese, Italian, French and Navajo
• Find my faith
• Meet the Dalai Lama
• Write a novel with a friend
  
• Write a song: words and music
• Smell a kangaroo
• Learn to rollerskate
• Watch a shuttle/rocket launch
• Have my name on the list for the first tourist launch to the moon
• Brew my own beer or wine
• Spend half a day at a concentration camp and swear never to forget
• See AFI's top 100 movies
• Read at least 100 banned books
• Visit Stonehenge
• Visit Machu Pichu or the nazca lines
• Ride a ripline in the Rainforest
• Ride in a hot air balloon
• Learn to play the drums well
• Give birth (It'll be a while)
• Hike the Appalachian Trail
• Spend a fall biking through New England
• Learn to pick locks
• Learn to hotwire a car
• Wait

Please offer suggestions. I welcome any new adventures. I might be terrified of it, but I'll try most anything. Anything highlighted in Blue, I've managed since I started the list.
AML

My Geek Creds

I have been invited to join The Labrynth nee' Geek Freaks. Geek creds are requested and mine are below:
Abbie's Geek Cred (at first I thought it said creed and actually worked on one)

RPG's-my dad is currently teaching me D&D. I had the Monsters Manual memorized by five. It was bedtime reading for me, which might explain a lot. I also enjoy LARP's.

Video and Computer Games-I got hooked on Diablo by seven. I love it! I do the usual online Runescape, Gaia, anything with a quest really. I use Age of Empires with my homeschooling. I remember being the only third grader in Mrs. Ortwein's that wanted a bardiche for Christmas. I really like weapons.

Comic Books-I really do not have very many. My allowance waster is Manga. I have a huge collection of different series. I know most of them by heart. I used Prince of Tennis to learn percentages.

Music-Cannot live without it. My iPod ranges from the 1920's to current plus classical music.
I especially love 70's rock, 80's college bands and anything quirky. I like early rap, but not what is out there now. In my opinion, it's trash and is degrading to women. When I have reached a point of brokeness that surpasses everything, music can keep me sane and alive.
Movies-British humor is a favorite, though I like mindless humor as well. I love musicals, Shakespeare, 80's horror flicks, Hitchcock, Disney, Action/Adventure, comedy, indy flicks with subtitles. I love Monty Python, LOTR, Star Wars, Harry Potter, The Mummy, The Godfather
Critters-I have one Sheltie and 5 cats. We have had as many as 20 cats. We used to be a drop off house for strays and unwanteds. That has come to include people as well, but that's another topic. We take in EVERYTHING. We've had a frog, several fish, a hamster. In our yard, there are squirrels, chipmunks, 2 raccoons, 1 large snapping turtle, three hummingbirds and other assorted creatures. We feed them all.
Philosophy-I think WAY too much. It comes from being an insomniac. I'm Catholic, though there are several things about the church with which I disagree. I'm rather pagan/native american in that I do celebrate and revere the earth and I think there is life/spirit all around us. I have Buddhist leanings as well. My over all phisophy is this: I like to spend half my time minding my own business and the other half leaving other people alone. I try very hard not to judge, because I don't want to be judged.

Television-Anime, Saturday night Britcoms-esp. Red Dwarf, The Vicar of Dibley or My Hero; Big Bang Theory; Ace of Cakes (I love to bake); Doctor Who and Torchwood; anything on PBS, The Discovery Channel, NASA, SYFY or National Geographic or BBC America. The only reality show that I watch is Family Jewels with Gene Simmons.

I don't spell very well, so I use spell check religiously, because misspelling drives me insane. I can't write it, but I know it when I see it.
I love books. I like fiction and non-fiction. Somedays it's manga. Somedays is Jane Austen or other historical fiction. Somedays, it mysteries. You never know. Top favs: Inkheart series, Illusions: The Adventures of a Relectant Messiah, anything by Anne George, Laurie King or Diana Gabaldon.

• I am currently an honorary member of BCAR-Berry College Alternate Realities. It is a group with a vast appreciation of Science Fiction, role playing, fantasy, anime/manga. Basically, it's Berry's geek club. Some of the best people on earth. They hold a Con every other year. I have been to three Anime Cons in the past year. I like making my own costumes.
• All of my passwords are anime related and extremely obscure.
• I know all the words to every song from Rocky Horror and have since I was 7. You won't have to PG-14 me too much.
• I quote a lot.
• I can memorize most anything from lyrics to plays to sheet music very quickly. I do play the piano, guitar and the harmonica.
• I love to give and receive unusual gifts. One of my favorites to date is a mummification kit with canopic jars that my mom found at the High Museum for my 7th birthday.

I think that pretty much covers it. Just ask if you need more. I think for 14, I am already hopelessly and happily geeky. I'm 1000+ year old soul currently inhabiting a 14 year old body.

Oh....my creed: I promise to remain open-minded and open-hearted for we must accept and embrace not only our own geekiness, but others as well. I promise to never sleep more than 4 hours at a time. I promise to continue dressing in my own unique, thrift-store way. I promise to strive toward better worlds always. AML

Tough Decisions

I, for the most part, am a peaceful person. I'm a huge advocate of peace, kindness, acceptance...blah, blah, blah..... I do believe for fighting for what I believe in and for underdogs, but still, I am peaceful in nature. Or atleast I thought I was. God has been telling me otherwise. You know how he just sort of sneaks messages to you. Usually through other people. He has all sorts of creative ways of really getting to you. His message to me for the past couple of weeks has been forgivness.
I turn on the radio and it's the Ramones telling me to "Swallow My Pride" or Simon & Garfunkel singing about "Old Friends". You read a post by a dear friend on Facebook and it's all about letting go of petty arguments. Another person posts that you just have to love people anyway. Regardless of what they have done to you.
OK God!!!! I get it.
Francesco Petrarch said, "Five great enemies to peace inhabit with us: avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride. If those enemies were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace.". Forgiveness is about letting go of your anger and sometimes swallowing your pride. It's about loving another human, faults and all.
I'm going rafting tomorrow. I have already started visualizing that every time I put the oar into the water, I'm going to let anger flow from me, through the oar and into the water. My anger will wash downstream where nature can take care of it as nature always can. I'm going to push resentment to the surface where the air can sweep it away. I will cry for things that weren't. For dreams lost and no one will know because my face will be red from the sun and the tears will look like spray from the river. I will finish the run exhausted, exhilerated, but at peace. And at the end, I will wrap myself in the laughter of my friends so that the anger cannot creep back to me. That's my goal. That is how I will get my peace back.
But if all else fails, Oscar Wilde said: "Always forgive your enemies-nothing annoys them so much." Yeah....I can annoy the hell out of people. I'm good at that.
AML

Religion is a Funny Thing to Me

I wanted this to be my first Blog post, unfortunately, I couldn't figure out the blogging in time and also posted it in my "Notes" section of Facebook. Some of you have read it. Don't waste your time reading it again.

Someone asked my mom if it bothered her that I questioned religion, faith, god and pretty much everything else. Did it bother her that I generally dislike Christians (by todays definition and standards)? Was she concerned for my soul? My mom is a story teller, though she'll tell you she's not, and I love when she tells me stories from when I was really young. One of her shorter ones is the one where she tells me that she used to whisper in my ear almost from week 1: "Question Authority." Now, she says she should have been more specific. I drive her nuts questioning HER authority. So, the answer to the questions has to be no. And this is the reasoning.I question everything, but I especially question my faith. I question god, his church, everything. I don't want to be spoon fed my religion. "Here, eat some carrots. They're good for you. Have some spinach. It's good for you. Here's a dose of religion. Take it. It's good for you" Thank you, no. I"m not trying to be a cafeteria christian (shudders at the word). I just want to know why. Is this real? Why do I believe this? The bible talks about putting on the armor of God. Mine is not a hand-me-down armor from my parents. I see it more of an I'm-over-the-forge-going-at-it-hammer-and-tongs with god. I'm almost constantly over the fire. Occasionally, there is the coolness of peace when the water flows over my work, but then it's back to the firing and hammering. But, I think, when I'm done, the armor will be mine. It will fit me perfectly and I will love every shining piece of it. And, yes, I will have done it the hard way as I do all things, but my armor will be strong because I have examined, forged and molded every inch of it. I will be stronger in my convictions because I waged battle with them.
AML