I'm so fatigued. I'm sick and taking cough medicine to help me sleep at night. The side effect of getting good cough-mediciny rest is that it carries over all day long.
I have my first test since returning to college. It's a 10-question "test" over 8 chapters of a book. It's worth 15% of my grade.
No pressure.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Movie Review: Vantage Point
Finally got to see this movie. The premise intrigued me. Here we go!
Gains: +3
The action was intense from the opening scene. The acting was decent, but not as good as I expected from the high caliber cast. The movie surprised me a couple times. Just when you think you got a handle on what's going on, they change the equation in a way that avoids feeling contrived. The script kept my interest throughout. The violence was prevalent but not overdone, except for showing the main shooting which the story is built around several times. Even that fits into the way they were trying to portray the movie.
Losses: -1
This movie has a surprising amount of action and almost zero amount of motive. Lots of people are making decisions in a world-changing scenario, and the audience is not allowed to know why. As the previews show, the entire movie is based around the assassination of the sitting President of the United States. You are never told why the people want him killed or what their ultimate goals are. Their plan is detailed and intricate, but why take the risk? Why are certain people conspiring together? Why do certain characters behave in certain ways? Cause A leads to Effect A, but what internal motives are ascribed to the cause? In other words, what caused Cause A?
The viewer is never shown.Judgement: +2
All in all, Vantage Point is entertaining, but it ultimately lacked the one element which would have elevated it to the rank of other great action movies. Worth watching, though, in my opinion, but just once.
First Day of School!
Thank God the first day of school is now behind me. For those of you who don't know, I'm beginning classes for a Communications degree. Basically, every Thursday night for the next 22 months I will be in class from 6 to 10.
I'm glad the first class is done. My anxiety has dissolved, like excitement before a long trip that turns into road hardiness once you climb into the car.
It's going to be a long 22 months, that's for sure.
I'm glad the first class is done. My anxiety has dissolved, like excitement before a long trip that turns into road hardiness once you climb into the car.
It's going to be a long 22 months, that's for sure.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
A Legacy of Fear
This post is about the Legacy of Fear my father instilled in me that haunts me to this day.
The story goes that while I was a teenager, I would have deep "getting into God" times. These are the times where I would be reading my Bible and praying consistently. When I'm in these times, I'm sensitive to His Spirit. I don't read and pray on a schedule. Instead, I feel the small nudges on my soul as God asks me to spend time with Him. So I do, and the times are rich beyond measure.
Every so often I would fall off the wagon and have to learn it all over again. Then the cycle's intensity began to increase. I would get close, then something would happen and I'd fall off the wagon again, over and over, quicker and quicker.
It took me a couple years to realize that I was being pushed off. Every time I got close to God and really began to seek Him, my earthly father would become angry at something and go into one of his tirades. In these times, he became oppressive. He would look for tiny details of my life that caused him displeasure, and then he would squeeze. Most of the time he focused on stupid stuff. He would search my bedroom or look closely at my behavior just to find something to pick on. None of it was necessary. None of the things were terrible or even bad, they just were just things for him to control. These times sparked incredible anger and frustration in me, which in turn cut me off from God.
A pattern emerged. I became aware of it and began to test it. I'd go 3 months without devotions, then I would start them and observe the results. Within 1 week, my father would explode. After 1.5 years of testing, the results were conclusive. It was terrible. It was predictable. And ultimately, it was successful. A Legacy of Fear was born.
I lost the battle. I told God that I couldn't speak to Him under these conditions. I surrendered to the persecution and despaired. Around this time, I saw a movie which put forth a premise that really described how I was feeling. In the movie, the antagonist says, "Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers baled, what does that tell you about God?" I knew in my brain that he was wrong, because the premise is based in our perspective not on the personhood of God.
Still, the Legacy of Fear reigned in my life. It's control was devastating. I lost my muse. I lost my optimism. I lost my innocense. It wasn't all bad. I also lost my ignorance. I lost my arrogance. I lost my judgementalism. In essence, I became a different person.
The irony is that when I'm around God or when I read my Bible, my muse awakens. My ability to feel compassion and empathy and my ability to express myself in poetry rise from the ashes of my past and fill me with a vibrance I thought was long gone.
Yet the Legacy of Fear remains, like the White Witch's neverending winter without Christmas. So here I am, longing for the warmth of God's presence but trapped in icy fear. It's not courage I lack. I lack a careless stupidity, a free spirit persona, that would allow me to try to approach God again. I know that if I decide to do so, within 1 week, my father, who I have not talked to in over 4 months, would return with all his garbage, ready to unload some of it on my life.
I much prefer quietly dying of thirst rather than pulling the trigger of the gun someone is pointing at my head. This is melodramatic, of course, but the imagery seems apropos. Still, somewhere deep in my soul, my muse cries out to God. I keep telling it to be quiet, to not disturb the controlled calm I've managed to scrape together. Part of me wants God to stomp into my dark room and shed some light, but another part of me just wants to be left alone. My model for God is tainted, and I have trouble imagining a God who loves me despite my faults.
This song works pretty well for describing my feelings and also my hope. The verses are in one voice and the chorus and bridge are another voice's response.
In my hands
A legacy of memories
I can hear you say my name
I can almost see your smile
Feel the warmth of your embrace
But there is nothing but silence now
Around the one I loved
Is this our farewell?
Sweet darling you worry too much, my child
See the sadness in your eyes
You are not alone in life
Although you might think that you are
Never thought
This day would come so soon
We had no time to say goodbye
How can the world just carry on?
I feel so lost when you are not at my side
But there is nothing but silence now
Around the one I loved
Is this our farewell?
Sweet darling you worry too much, my child
See the sadness in your eyes
You are not alone in life
Although you might think that you are
So sorry your world is tumbling down
I'll watch you through these nights
Rest your head and go to sleep
Because my child, this is not our farewell.
This is not our farewell.
The story goes that while I was a teenager, I would have deep "getting into God" times. These are the times where I would be reading my Bible and praying consistently. When I'm in these times, I'm sensitive to His Spirit. I don't read and pray on a schedule. Instead, I feel the small nudges on my soul as God asks me to spend time with Him. So I do, and the times are rich beyond measure.
Every so often I would fall off the wagon and have to learn it all over again. Then the cycle's intensity began to increase. I would get close, then something would happen and I'd fall off the wagon again, over and over, quicker and quicker.
It took me a couple years to realize that I was being pushed off. Every time I got close to God and really began to seek Him, my earthly father would become angry at something and go into one of his tirades. In these times, he became oppressive. He would look for tiny details of my life that caused him displeasure, and then he would squeeze. Most of the time he focused on stupid stuff. He would search my bedroom or look closely at my behavior just to find something to pick on. None of it was necessary. None of the things were terrible or even bad, they just were just things for him to control. These times sparked incredible anger and frustration in me, which in turn cut me off from God.
A pattern emerged. I became aware of it and began to test it. I'd go 3 months without devotions, then I would start them and observe the results. Within 1 week, my father would explode. After 1.5 years of testing, the results were conclusive. It was terrible. It was predictable. And ultimately, it was successful. A Legacy of Fear was born.
I lost the battle. I told God that I couldn't speak to Him under these conditions. I surrendered to the persecution and despaired. Around this time, I saw a movie which put forth a premise that really described how I was feeling. In the movie, the antagonist says, "Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers baled, what does that tell you about God?" I knew in my brain that he was wrong, because the premise is based in our perspective not on the personhood of God.
Still, the Legacy of Fear reigned in my life. It's control was devastating. I lost my muse. I lost my optimism. I lost my innocense. It wasn't all bad. I also lost my ignorance. I lost my arrogance. I lost my judgementalism. In essence, I became a different person.
The irony is that when I'm around God or when I read my Bible, my muse awakens. My ability to feel compassion and empathy and my ability to express myself in poetry rise from the ashes of my past and fill me with a vibrance I thought was long gone.
Yet the Legacy of Fear remains, like the White Witch's neverending winter without Christmas. So here I am, longing for the warmth of God's presence but trapped in icy fear. It's not courage I lack. I lack a careless stupidity, a free spirit persona, that would allow me to try to approach God again. I know that if I decide to do so, within 1 week, my father, who I have not talked to in over 4 months, would return with all his garbage, ready to unload some of it on my life.
I much prefer quietly dying of thirst rather than pulling the trigger of the gun someone is pointing at my head. This is melodramatic, of course, but the imagery seems apropos. Still, somewhere deep in my soul, my muse cries out to God. I keep telling it to be quiet, to not disturb the controlled calm I've managed to scrape together. Part of me wants God to stomp into my dark room and shed some light, but another part of me just wants to be left alone. My model for God is tainted, and I have trouble imagining a God who loves me despite my faults.
This song works pretty well for describing my feelings and also my hope. The verses are in one voice and the chorus and bridge are another voice's response.
In my hands
A legacy of memories
I can hear you say my name
I can almost see your smile
Feel the warmth of your embrace
But there is nothing but silence now
Around the one I loved
Is this our farewell?
Sweet darling you worry too much, my child
See the sadness in your eyes
You are not alone in life
Although you might think that you are
Never thought
This day would come so soon
We had no time to say goodbye
How can the world just carry on?
I feel so lost when you are not at my side
But there is nothing but silence now
Around the one I loved
Is this our farewell?
Sweet darling you worry too much, my child
See the sadness in your eyes
You are not alone in life
Although you might think that you are
So sorry your world is tumbling down
I'll watch you through these nights
Rest your head and go to sleep
Because my child, this is not our farewell.
This is not our farewell.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Movie Review: The Dark Knight
Friday I saw this movie for the second time. The Dark Knight, the sequel to Batman Begins, is much darker than its predecessor. In fact, this movie was more visceral than many movies I have seen recently. Given this movie's blockbuster records and the fact that it has potential to be the highest grossing movie ever, I figured I should review it.
Gains: +10
The plot and graphic nature of the script danced with an R rating but never stepped over the line. This tightrope walk gave you all the benefits of experiencing the danger and horror while sparing you the gory details. The layered plot was even more savory on the second viewing and whetted my appetite for future viewings. The idea of a terrorist bringing a city to its knees in fear is compelling, but just when hope hangs by its thinnest thread, great decisions are made and great deeds are performed, and not just by Batman. I hate when movie scripts give me reasons to pity villians. These reasons usually whitewash the villian's own choices. The tangled web of conflicting stories the Joker tells gives you more a view into his mindset and goals than into his past. He seemingly comes from out of nowhere and began his campaign against the natural order of his society. This appeared to be more a case of plot function than of oversight.
The Joker is amazing. Rarely does anyone overcome the hype. Heath Ledger crushed the hype beyond anything I have ever witnessed. Too bad he died. I loved the cast: every single character had meaningful lines and roles. The movie was 2.5 hours long and none of the space felt wasted. For the first time in a long time, I felt in real time how long the movie actually was, but I was not interested in having it end.
Without giving anything away, I have to say that the ending of the movie gave me chills. In self-sacrifice Batman gives up the portion of his character he holds most dear, for the good of his city. His reasoning: because his Batman persona can shoulder the responsibility.
The movie is violent, but even after two viewings I cannot remember any blood. This is a small point, but it's a critical hinge, I think. A character is horribly mutilated, but the terrible scarring is more fascinating than disturbing. Though the injury changes him, the guy is still the same man with the same issues he had before his disfigurement.
Losses: -2
The movie is dark and sinister. While this adds a couple points, it also gets logged as a loss. I'm totally okay with darker plots, but for those who are more sensitive, this will take away from the movie. Truth be told, the movie is more sinister than actually scary. Of course, for kids this movie could be nightmare inducing. You are warned. The darkness is not for effect, it serves a purpose in the plot. When things get muddled, when you stare darkness and chaos in the face, only then do you see the true hero reveal himself.
The movie is violent. Even the good guy does massive amounts of violence to bad guys, even as he tries to hold onto his rule of never killing people. The Joker lets nothing stand in his way to total chaos. He will kill anyone or entice people to kill each other in order to achieve his ends.
Edit: After Amber's comment about Katie Holmes and Maggie G., I felt I needed to address it in the blog. Maggie G. is one of my favorite actors. Katie Holmes is not. But after watching the Katie/Christian Bale chemistry and then seeing the Maggie/Bale version, I have to say that Katie was much better for the role. The character Rachel has a critical role in the film, and it would have worked far better if Katie had the role. The chemistry between Batman/Bruce Wayne and Rachel needed Katie Holmes.
Final Judgement: +8
Moral themes ooze abundantly from the pores of this movie but never get preachy or removed from the story. This gives the movie depth way beyond even good Hollywood movies. More viewings of The Dark Knight will help me determine if I think it deserves to replace Serenity as my most favorite movie. It's definitely in my Top 10, which means I will have to look at the list to decide what gets bumped off. Even if you have reservations about seeing it, I would highly recommend that you give it a viewing.
Gains: +10
The plot and graphic nature of the script danced with an R rating but never stepped over the line. This tightrope walk gave you all the benefits of experiencing the danger and horror while sparing you the gory details. The layered plot was even more savory on the second viewing and whetted my appetite for future viewings. The idea of a terrorist bringing a city to its knees in fear is compelling, but just when hope hangs by its thinnest thread, great decisions are made and great deeds are performed, and not just by Batman. I hate when movie scripts give me reasons to pity villians. These reasons usually whitewash the villian's own choices. The tangled web of conflicting stories the Joker tells gives you more a view into his mindset and goals than into his past. He seemingly comes from out of nowhere and began his campaign against the natural order of his society. This appeared to be more a case of plot function than of oversight.
The Joker is amazing. Rarely does anyone overcome the hype. Heath Ledger crushed the hype beyond anything I have ever witnessed. Too bad he died. I loved the cast: every single character had meaningful lines and roles. The movie was 2.5 hours long and none of the space felt wasted. For the first time in a long time, I felt in real time how long the movie actually was, but I was not interested in having it end.
Without giving anything away, I have to say that the ending of the movie gave me chills. In self-sacrifice Batman gives up the portion of his character he holds most dear, for the good of his city. His reasoning: because his Batman persona can shoulder the responsibility.
The movie is violent, but even after two viewings I cannot remember any blood. This is a small point, but it's a critical hinge, I think. A character is horribly mutilated, but the terrible scarring is more fascinating than disturbing. Though the injury changes him, the guy is still the same man with the same issues he had before his disfigurement.
Losses: -2
The movie is dark and sinister. While this adds a couple points, it also gets logged as a loss. I'm totally okay with darker plots, but for those who are more sensitive, this will take away from the movie. Truth be told, the movie is more sinister than actually scary. Of course, for kids this movie could be nightmare inducing. You are warned. The darkness is not for effect, it serves a purpose in the plot. When things get muddled, when you stare darkness and chaos in the face, only then do you see the true hero reveal himself.
The movie is violent. Even the good guy does massive amounts of violence to bad guys, even as he tries to hold onto his rule of never killing people. The Joker lets nothing stand in his way to total chaos. He will kill anyone or entice people to kill each other in order to achieve his ends.
Edit: After Amber's comment about Katie Holmes and Maggie G., I felt I needed to address it in the blog. Maggie G. is one of my favorite actors. Katie Holmes is not. But after watching the Katie/Christian Bale chemistry and then seeing the Maggie/Bale version, I have to say that Katie was much better for the role. The character Rachel has a critical role in the film, and it would have worked far better if Katie had the role. The chemistry between Batman/Bruce Wayne and Rachel needed Katie Holmes.
Final Judgement: +8
Moral themes ooze abundantly from the pores of this movie but never get preachy or removed from the story. This gives the movie depth way beyond even good Hollywood movies. More viewings of The Dark Knight will help me determine if I think it deserves to replace Serenity as my most favorite movie. It's definitely in my Top 10, which means I will have to look at the list to decide what gets bumped off. Even if you have reservations about seeing it, I would highly recommend that you give it a viewing.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Suspiciously familiar
Watch this 5-minute speech.
Only a couple years later, inflation was down and the "energy crisis" was solved by a president who was more optimistic and believed in the greatness of America. This speech makes me think about how doctors a long time ago used to try to cure people by bleeding them. You don't cure ills by removing the lifeblood of people or of countries. When we had major fuel changes from trees to coal and from coal to gas, each was an advancement. When we have another form of energy that's cheaper to produce, gets greater productivity per dollar spent on acquisition, and is cleaner (for those who are environmentally minded), then the world will change.
I've heard nuclear energy may be the key, but I don't know enough about it. Some say "Chernoble," like that's what will happen to every nuclear facility. It was a Russian facility that cut corners and had poor safety procedures. It was bound to fail. Some talk about Three Mile Island as "our Chernoble," but no one died and it was far less dramatic.
Anyway, does Carter remind you of a current someone? Someone who perhaps thinks that filling up our tires properly will help? He said that in a speech here in Springfield. It may help our cars get a little more out of each tank of gas, but the prices at the pump will not quake and fall because of well-filled tires.
We need new energy that's cheaper and better and cleaner. If nothing fits that mold, then we need more old energy.
Only a couple years later, inflation was down and the "energy crisis" was solved by a president who was more optimistic and believed in the greatness of America. This speech makes me think about how doctors a long time ago used to try to cure people by bleeding them. You don't cure ills by removing the lifeblood of people or of countries. When we had major fuel changes from trees to coal and from coal to gas, each was an advancement. When we have another form of energy that's cheaper to produce, gets greater productivity per dollar spent on acquisition, and is cleaner (for those who are environmentally minded), then the world will change.
I've heard nuclear energy may be the key, but I don't know enough about it. Some say "Chernoble," like that's what will happen to every nuclear facility. It was a Russian facility that cut corners and had poor safety procedures. It was bound to fail. Some talk about Three Mile Island as "our Chernoble," but no one died and it was far less dramatic.
Anyway, does Carter remind you of a current someone? Someone who perhaps thinks that filling up our tires properly will help? He said that in a speech here in Springfield. It may help our cars get a little more out of each tank of gas, but the prices at the pump will not quake and fall because of well-filled tires.
We need new energy that's cheaper and better and cleaner. If nothing fits that mold, then we need more old energy.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
God is merciful...oh, and I almost killed a man
Mornings for me are usually rough because I'm not a morning person. Grogginess is my total mindset. However, this morning, from almost the minute I woke up, my mind rewarded me with a wonderful playing of "Shadow of the Day" by Linkin Park, a peaceful ballad. The song worked itself into my mind and soothed my grogginess. It filled me to the point that I shut off my car radio as I climbed behind the wheel to head to work.
"The shadow of the day will embrace the world in grey..." was the refrain setting my mind at peace and focusing me on the road in front of me when I noticied a bicyclist 100 yards ahead of me. I noticed him, because he kept looking over his shoulder, wobbling each time - once as the car in front of me passed him, twice to look at me, three times as I got much closer. A motorcycle and two cars were coming in the opposite direction with a little spacing between them. As I approached the bicyclist, my serenity-elevated alertness caused me to watch this guy more closely. I noticed his tires twitch a few times as I got nearer, like he was an amateur who had too many other things to focus on other than where his tires were aimed. He was in my lane going in my direction - another sign that he was an amateur biker.
So I'm cruising along at 30 mph with my eyes glued to this guy. I try to time my passing of him for a small break in the oncoming traffic, so I can give the bicyclist as much extra room as possible. When I'm within 20 feet of him, I slide over into the other lane a smidge. Just as I do that, the bicyclist turns left, directly across both lanes of traffic and right in front of me, apparently turning into the lane that intersected our lane.
I slammed my brakes. I swerved. My tires skidded. Thank God for anti-lock breaks. (I was in our Intrepid, so stopping time is much greater (when measured in inches) than our smaller car.) The biker did not turn his head to see me until he heard the tires squeal. Now this took less than a second, but still.... Anyway, he freaked and turned his bicycle wheel parallel to my adjusted path. His momentum and my momentum carried us into each other. However, our adjustments meant he only received a glancing blow to his front bike tire.
The truck in the oncoming had enough time to stop to let the biker, who was still on his bike and had not been knocked over, pull back across the road and climb off. I waited until the truck passed us and pulled over to the biker and asked if he was okay. He said, "You hit my damn bike!" He said, "I had my arm out like this" and held his left arm out in the gesture of turning left. I said I did not see his arm, not mentioning the fact that I believe he did not raise his hand to signal a turn. I thought it best not to argue blame at that point, considering he was probably in shock from nearly dying. He repeated, "You hit my damn bike!" I said I realized that. I asked him if he was hurt. He looked like he wanted me to protest innocense and get mad at him, but I did neither. He said he was not hurt. I looked at his bike, which appeared to have no damage to it. So I looked him in the eyes and said "I'm sorry" and left when his body language appeared to accept my apology.
As I stated here, I had watched him very closely for 100 yards because something about his handling of his bike was making me nervous. I never saw his arm come out, and while he was talking to me, I noticed he was holding a partially full plastic shopping bag in his other hand - yet another sign of an amature bicycle operator. So holding out his left arm while controlling the bike with his right hand which was holding something would have been very difficult.
Anyway, I nearly killed a man, which is pretty traumatic for me. Yet, my mind was at peace prior, so I had clarity and focus not grogginess. My reaction time was nearly instantaneos because I was wary of him. I had no huge spike of adrenaline to use up because, as a good driver, I was as prepared as possible for him to do something unpredictable.
And the song continued in my head afterward, almost as if it was ordained by God to be my companion to sharpen my mind for what He knew was coming and to reassure me afterward. I could not have been more ready to avoid the biker than I was. Praise God!
"The shadow of the day will embrace the world in grey..." was the refrain setting my mind at peace and focusing me on the road in front of me when I noticied a bicyclist 100 yards ahead of me. I noticed him, because he kept looking over his shoulder, wobbling each time - once as the car in front of me passed him, twice to look at me, three times as I got much closer. A motorcycle and two cars were coming in the opposite direction with a little spacing between them. As I approached the bicyclist, my serenity-elevated alertness caused me to watch this guy more closely. I noticed his tires twitch a few times as I got nearer, like he was an amateur who had too many other things to focus on other than where his tires were aimed. He was in my lane going in my direction - another sign that he was an amateur biker.
So I'm cruising along at 30 mph with my eyes glued to this guy. I try to time my passing of him for a small break in the oncoming traffic, so I can give the bicyclist as much extra room as possible. When I'm within 20 feet of him, I slide over into the other lane a smidge. Just as I do that, the bicyclist turns left, directly across both lanes of traffic and right in front of me, apparently turning into the lane that intersected our lane.
I slammed my brakes. I swerved. My tires skidded. Thank God for anti-lock breaks. (I was in our Intrepid, so stopping time is much greater (when measured in inches) than our smaller car.) The biker did not turn his head to see me until he heard the tires squeal. Now this took less than a second, but still.... Anyway, he freaked and turned his bicycle wheel parallel to my adjusted path. His momentum and my momentum carried us into each other. However, our adjustments meant he only received a glancing blow to his front bike tire.
The truck in the oncoming had enough time to stop to let the biker, who was still on his bike and had not been knocked over, pull back across the road and climb off. I waited until the truck passed us and pulled over to the biker and asked if he was okay. He said, "You hit my damn bike!" He said, "I had my arm out like this" and held his left arm out in the gesture of turning left. I said I did not see his arm, not mentioning the fact that I believe he did not raise his hand to signal a turn. I thought it best not to argue blame at that point, considering he was probably in shock from nearly dying. He repeated, "You hit my damn bike!" I said I realized that. I asked him if he was hurt. He looked like he wanted me to protest innocense and get mad at him, but I did neither. He said he was not hurt. I looked at his bike, which appeared to have no damage to it. So I looked him in the eyes and said "I'm sorry" and left when his body language appeared to accept my apology.
As I stated here, I had watched him very closely for 100 yards because something about his handling of his bike was making me nervous. I never saw his arm come out, and while he was talking to me, I noticed he was holding a partially full plastic shopping bag in his other hand - yet another sign of an amature bicycle operator. So holding out his left arm while controlling the bike with his right hand which was holding something would have been very difficult.
Anyway, I nearly killed a man, which is pretty traumatic for me. Yet, my mind was at peace prior, so I had clarity and focus not grogginess. My reaction time was nearly instantaneos because I was wary of him. I had no huge spike of adrenaline to use up because, as a good driver, I was as prepared as possible for him to do something unpredictable.
And the song continued in my head afterward, almost as if it was ordained by God to be my companion to sharpen my mind for what He knew was coming and to reassure me afterward. I could not have been more ready to avoid the biker than I was. Praise God!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Read this PG-13 article
Could you have sex every day for a year? Check out this lady's birthday gift to her husband. The article is fascinating from start to finish. Most everyone, including her hubby, didn't think it could be done.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1033911/Could-make-love-husband-day-year.html
Don't forget to come back here and comment on it.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1033911/Could-make-love-husband-day-year.html
Don't forget to come back here and comment on it.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
The Truth
I love this article. Honest and true to both sides of the aisle (or is it isle?). Some people buck the stereotype, but stereotypes are people too.
http://www.creators.com/opinion/lenore-skenazy/cell-phone-holdouts-are-right-buy-a-phone-become-a-baby.html
BTW, I'm planning to begin writing more. I'm feeling more wordy now that a couple weeks have passed since I worked on that letter. I think I've said what I needed to be said, and that I don't actually need it to be heard by my father. Thanks for your advice!
http://www.creators.com/opinion/lenore-skenazy/cell-phone-holdouts-are-right-buy-a-phone-become-a-baby.html
BTW, I'm planning to begin writing more. I'm feeling more wordy now that a couple weeks have passed since I worked on that letter. I think I've said what I needed to be said, and that I don't actually need it to be heard by my father. Thanks for your advice!
Friday, June 20, 2008
No posts lately
I have not been posting lately because most of my creative energy has been going into writing a letter to my dad. This leaves my mind scourgified of words and increases my brain's Halo 3 requirements.
I'm unsure if I will send the letter because it's mainly for me and my peace of mind. The goal is accomplished. The arguments that were filling up my mind are quieted. I can now look at the letter any time I feel like obsessing and feel like I've spoken my piece.
Of course, this does nothing for the relationship. As long as I don't send the letter, nothing changes and my father remains insignificant in his forced silence.
So, the question is this: Do I keep the letter to myself and just let the tide of time scrub away the emotional aspect of the loss of my family? Or do I send the letter and risk more frustration and other worse emotions in order to give my father the chance to give me the parental relationship I've always needed but rarely gotten?
Of course, this is my decision, but feel free to sound off.
I'm unsure if I will send the letter because it's mainly for me and my peace of mind. The goal is accomplished. The arguments that were filling up my mind are quieted. I can now look at the letter any time I feel like obsessing and feel like I've spoken my piece.
Of course, this does nothing for the relationship. As long as I don't send the letter, nothing changes and my father remains insignificant in his forced silence.
So, the question is this: Do I keep the letter to myself and just let the tide of time scrub away the emotional aspect of the loss of my family? Or do I send the letter and risk more frustration and other worse emotions in order to give my father the chance to give me the parental relationship I've always needed but rarely gotten?
Of course, this is my decision, but feel free to sound off.
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