tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11096780069579467872024-03-05T18:03:00.100-08:00Musings of a MysticBlueRoseJust me, aspiring mystic, lover of blue roses (a thing between my grandmother and I), and my thoughts, hopes, dreams, feelings...that which catches and holds my attention...out there for GOD and everyone to see...MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.comBlogger329125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-55883436248898915732019-10-05T23:55:00.001-07:002019-10-05T23:55:03.959-07:00Don't weaponize Santa/Christmas<div>
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We are coming up on a VERY ROUGH season for me. The one where parents of every walk in life tormet/tortment their children with Santa Claus. </div>
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It is horrific enough that we create this creepy, fantasy being (he sees you when you're sleeping; he knows when your awake, he knows if you've been bad or going- rather God-like, don't you think), but then we use this fantasy being to cajole, threaten and torment CHILDREN for the 8 weeks leading up to Christmas.</div>
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I cannot tell you the amount of times I have seen a parent turn their child(ren) int a puddle of quivering goo at any given store at any given time. I have had to PHYSICALLY leave the store to keep myself from accosting parents who say wonderfully, dripping-with-poison comment like these:</div>
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Don't even THINK Santa will be coming to give you ANY presents you horrible child.</div>
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When we get home I am going to call Santa and have him come get every decoration/toy to punish you because you are such an awful child </div>
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Santa told me HIMSELF that you have been so bad you won't even get coal in your stocking. </div>
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And more, so many more traumatically horrible ways to torture a child by using a made up, not-even-real being.</div>
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JUST STOP. DON'T DO IT. THINK ABOUT HOW WONDEROUS IT ALL FELT WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD AND HOW MUCH EMOTIONAL DAMAGE YOU ARE DOING, PLEASE!!!!!!</div>
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#WeaponizedSanta</div>
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#StopChildAbuse</div>
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#SantaIsNotABigStick<br />
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And don't get me started on that creepy, stalking elf. <br />
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MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-69061576725509945442018-10-14T18:25:00.001-07:002018-10-14T18:30:57.598-07:00The Human Conundrum...<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have been on Criminal Minds fest. I don't usually watch this kind of show en masse because then I can't sleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Criminal Minds is a different kind of cop show, to me. It is more deep, intelligent and probative. It speaks to the depth of humanity, both good and bad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One of the episodes touched on something my best friend and I have talked about off and on our whole adult lives. In this episode 2 abuse survivors (torture, beatings) face off in the same room and discuss the abuse that made them who they are. One became a serial killer. One became a profiler who catches killers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If we could figure out what sends people the two different ways, maybe we could save the broken ones aimed at destruction. But how? How do we see it in time? How can we know?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This question has haunted me my whole life. How did I become one of the lucky ones? What part of my psyche protected me? If we could figure that out maybe we could stop some of the killers acting out their childhoods into their adulthoods...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have always believed that if we could understand peoples stories, what broke them and reformed them, we can come to understand why they do what they are doing.</span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-57258823892289134822017-12-27T21:16:00.000-08:002018-05-17T21:19:35.676-07:00Life Narrows<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we hit the ground running as a child, and we look
around our world, the world is wide open. Every vista stretches for miles and
miles in every single direction. There is nothing (that we see) that keeps us
from doing whatever it is we want with our lives. </span><br />
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We start to grow up, go to school, discover our aptitudes
and what we like to do. We realize that the math we need for one path isn’t our
thing, or the grammar we need for one path isn’t our thing, and we choose
another path. By the time we get out of high school or into college, we may
have changed our path a dozen times, still seeing the world as wide open to us.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We start studying and/or working. We marry and have kids. We
make decisions based on both what we feel is good/right and where we want to
be. Well, some of us work our lives out that way. Others of us tend to just bob
along with the currents. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even as an adult while making the choices of what’s for
dinner, what movie to watch, what TV shows to get involved with, whether or not
to continue/go back to college, little choices we make throughout our lives,
sending us down one path or another, towards….towards what? That college
degree? That career or job we love? Toward raising the children we love? Toward
all those things that make up life. And we still have a fairly clear playing
field with many options.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">However, there comes a time when you look at your life and
suddenly it seems you have ended up on a very narrow and restrictive road for a
multiplicity of reasons: Finances narrow your life (or rather the lack of
finances). Moving narrows your life in that people who move all the time cannot
build up seniority in the career of their choice. Age narrows your life as your
body refuses to do the things<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>you have
loved doing, from walking a mile or two a day to roller skating at your
grandson’s birthday party. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I looked up recently and discovered that my life has
narrowed beyond what I am comfortable with. I don’t know exactly how I ended up
in this narrow place, but I have decided I don’t like it here and I want to
broaden my horizons again. </span></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Granted, I am not 21…I don’t have college and career and
travel in my future. (Mostly I wish for travel at this point in my life). But
neither do I need to stay inside much of the time and read books and just not
be outside, in the grass and trees and blue skies. I am shriveling up inside
from lack of nature, and my ability to get about in said nature and take photos
and listen to the river and hear the wind in the trees and the birds sing. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My resolution for 2018 is to go outside more, once the
weather lightens up a touch. Take my camera and stay in the outdoors as much as
I can with my physical limitations. Take my shoes and socks off and walk around
the soft grass in the park “grounding” myself. Up to Mount Saint Michaels to
hear the wind sing in the trees. Up to Canada for a day once I get my license
enhanced. Broadening my horizons in 2018. May we all broaden our horizons in
2018.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="color: #20124d;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-86627008037429429592017-06-06T22:38:00.002-07:002017-06-06T22:43:29.452-07:00#Resist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #073763;">I have a <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/resist?source=feed_text&story_id=10156288640203146"><span class="_5afx"><span class="_58cl _5afz">#</span><span class="_58cm">Resist</span></span></a>
Trump bumper sticker on my car. I live on the red side of a blue state.
I thought I would be honked at, keyed or rear ended by now, but that
hasn't happened thankfully.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #073763;"> I saw my bumper sticker today and
realized it doesn't just stand for #Resist Trump to me. It stands for
resisting oppression and corruption, racism and misogyny in all forms,
discrimination and aggression to control people. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #073763;"> #Resist is the call that is pulling people from all walks of life tog<span class="text_exposed_show">ether to stand against the corruption and inertia of government. A new movement is rising. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #073763;"> Be the force that changes the world!!! <span class="_5mfr _47e3"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v9/f4c/1/16/1f642.png" width="16" /> Read y our constitution. Learn your amendments. Study US Economics and Government...BUT...Go beyond this. Study Global Economics, different governmental systems than what we use. Different cultures and peoples and faiths. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="_5mfr _47e3"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #073763;">Dive into the wonders of the entire world. Open your heart and mind and see where people come from and how they become who they are. Realize that the human race is a wondrous place full of so much of what we consider the American Dream: A place to live, enough food to eat, safe schools and streets, education for our children, the right to worship without fear of reprisal. In opening ourselves to the wonders of others, we truly can become an American that understands what others feel and think and learn and live. And that, my friend, will make us all better people.</span></span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-63476229090621413432017-02-19T13:14:00.000-08:002017-02-19T13:46:28.574-08:00American Politica Discourse<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Yesterday I had a conversation (very brief) with a friend of a friend on Facebook because my friend posted something questioning Trump's strategies. After two attempts to talk to her, first to defend my friend, second to get her to converse, I had to block her. This crystallized something that I have come to see is particular to this election cycle and this president.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">I started my voting life as a Republican at 18. I became a Republican because my father was military and I came to believe that to be military, one needed a Republican in office because Republicans were pro-military. Soon after this I became a Mormon, and I started my walk into right-wing-fundamentalism where it is almost required to be a Republican. I left the Mormon church and became a Southern Baptist. I marched against abortion. I was anti-rock music (music of Satan) and anti-a lot of toys that could allow "demons" into the lives/souls of my children. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Somewhere in the middle of being a Southern Baptist, however, I began to be concerned with, call it "the big picture". I felt that my right-wing-fundamentalist focused on only one issue and to hades with all the other issues in the world. I also read a life changing book that made me question my beliefs as a fundamentalist and began my walk out of that lifestyle and into a more centrist or moderate position. I began to clearly see that focusing on one issue for a political candidate IN SPITE OF anything else they are/do/say was morally wrong for me.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Then I met a Christian Southern Democrat who challenged me to go home one weekend and really study the Republican platform and see how it lined up with how I felt about God, the world, humanity and what can be done to help humanity. It was a humbling experience to be so challenged and I threw myself into what Republicans stood for and have come to stand for. At the end of that weekend I realized I had never, in my core self, been a Republican.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">During all of this I belonged to a Christian chat room on Yahoo. I started in Christian chat room 2 and then moved to room 3 where I stayed for about 20 years. I met many fabulous people here from all walks of Christianity with all kinds of views of God and Christ and politics. We talked about it all with passion and heat. Sometimes we fought. Sometimes we cried. But we always came back and slugged it through till we made ourselves heard and known, and we heard and knew the other person. Rarely did anyone leave our chat room in anger and never come back. Rarely did anyone "unfriend" another person over their views.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">So back to this conversation with my friends friend, whom I do not know at all, and what it clarified for me. She began with a statement that was intended to shut down discourse. And as I look back at my conversations about this election cycle, I find this is happening WAY TOO OFTEN. And this, it seems to me, is what is making us not be able to come to any kind of common ground. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">She began with "You liberals need to pull up your big person pants and deal with this presidency". My first response was to defend my friend, who is NOT a liberal, but who is still concerned about this president. Her come back was another "All liberals are just upset about losing" kind of comment.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Anytime you lead with or come back with "All (insert demographic here) are/feel/think (fill in emotion/political stance/religious stance here) you shut down conversation. You slam the person against the wall with your forearm against their neck, eye to eye and you basically dare them to come back at you. I refuse to engage in that kind of conversation anymore. It is pointless and emotionally damaging.And it is what I have consistently seen in this election cycle. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Mention you don't care for Trump and you are a libtard or a libertard and sore over losing and you need to pull up your big girl panties and get a grip. Hello!!! I have a grip. Which is why I am concerned. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">I have voted Democrat and Republican and Green and Libertarian over the years since I was 18. My guy has lost MANY TIMES. It NEVER drove me to despair for my country. Not until this time. This time is different. This time we have a man with Zero experience at anything other than bankrupting companies and using women as a president, and I believe this puts our country, even our very democracy in danger. I am sorry that you cannot see that, that you did not hear what I heard for the 2 years that Donald J Trump was campaigning, but that is your issue, not mine. I have the right to fear for my country. I have the right to march, to protest, to sign petitions, to make phone calls, to send post cards and to do whatever I feel is right within the law to protest a man I see as a danger. Just as you have the right to support him and cheer him on. This is America, for God's sake. This is what we do.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">But please, if you want to have a political discourse, do not start your response to me, or your comment to me with: "All (insert demographic here) are/feel/think (fill in emotion/political stance/religious stance here). What this says to me is you don't really give a flying rat's arse what I think, you have your opinion and mine is irrelevant. Either just walk away without being disparaging, OR have a conversation. You might be surprised...we might have things in common after all.</span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-42129689773023534442016-11-09T09:00:00.000-08:002017-02-19T13:46:57.019-08:00On the Election...<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: white; color: #073763; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
my Hispanic friends...I am sorry.<br />
To my Black friends...I am sorry.<br />
To my Muslim friends...I am sorry.<br />
To my Jewish friends...I am sorry.<br />
To my Native American friends...I am sorry.<br />
For my progressive unchurched Christian friends (watch Mike Pence, he's a
dangerous theocrat)...I am sorry.<br />
For the gay people in my life that were allowed to celebrate their marriages
and now fear losing that...I am sorry.<br />
To the women in my life who wanted autonomy over their bodies to say who can
touch them and when and where...I am sorry.<br />
To the young men we are raising with this example...I am sorry.<br />
To the young girls who will now be raised yet more in fear...I am sorry.<br />
For anyone with a pre-existing condition (and yes, you who voted for him will
be in this same boat) who will now AGAIN be denied Healthcare & face losing
your home...I am sorry.<br />
For those of you on disability, which he has sworn to dismantle (and yes, you
who voted for him will be in this same boat)...I am sorry.<br />
For any of us on or near Social Security age (and yes, you who voted for him
will be in this same boat)...I am sorry.<br />
<br />
Those of you who voted for him as the "greater good" please refrain
from gloating about it on my Facebook page. I cannot handle it. Not now; maybe not
ever.<br />
<br />
And for the first time in my life, I feel that I may end up having to buy<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and </span>learn how to use a gun.</span></span></div>
MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-31723057703299908932016-09-06T23:47:00.000-07:002016-09-06T23:47:01.385-07:00Guns<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Suddenly, it seems, I am surrounded by gun owners. Gun owners who believe their right to carry a gun to feel safe trumps my right to not be around guns. And I guess it does as their right is constitutionally protected and my right is not.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Suddenly I have to be aware of who owns guns and can I invite people to places or friends homes without asking permission because I go a LOT of places with small children. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Also, I have to decide in my heart if I can bear going to coffee, dinner, lunch, church, a movie with someone who carries a concealed weapon...and what that means to long held friendships if I can't. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My daughter says I am paranoid. One can't be a committed pacifist, I guess, only paranoid people are anti-gun. But I call bull shite on that. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even though getting a permit to carry a concealed weapon in Washington state is as easy as buying a new set of tires. There's a bit of paperwork, and you may have to sit for a spell while they make sure your record is clean. But you can be out and packing in less than an hour. WITHOUT ANY GUN SAFETY TRAINING REUIRED. But I am paranoid...yeah right. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Any freak with a clean record can get a permit to carry a gun without one whit of safety training. Any person...for any reason. And if you believe every gun owner out there owns a gun just for their protection then you are NOT watching/reading the news.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"BUT I've been around guns my whole life," some say. Yeah & I have been around construction equipment my whole life. That doesn't make me qualified to operate it! </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If a person who owns a gun does not take gun safety classes that is negligence in my eyes. And if one of the people near me decides to concealed carry without gun safety classes, I will not feel safe in the presence of their gun. And therefore, we will not be hanging out together. And people, I looked the paperwork and the classes up tonight. Gun safety/gun handling classes are not cheap. But to own and carry a gun without them, as I said, is negligence in my eyes. And I will be forced to protect myself.</span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-6121562603087747752016-01-16T20:43:00.000-08:002016-01-16T20:49:25.171-08:00Hatred, as taught by America...<br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxV-cKLs-_vRrb2kZoUxBlp_yo1mmT8epjCPjcttV0zGiiZCl_S0ci0lKhX-ANeQxWocL8-1s4vqN8Fz9J0ThKQX14VjCnk3SIfakGKFvr9hAxWoc3ChYtZJmFj_ffCVJHe0uVx0IhUEk/s1600/Us+Vs+Them.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxV-cKLs-_vRrb2kZoUxBlp_yo1mmT8epjCPjcttV0zGiiZCl_S0ci0lKhX-ANeQxWocL8-1s4vqN8Fz9J0ThKQX14VjCnk3SIfakGKFvr9hAxWoc3ChYtZJmFj_ffCVJHe0uVx0IhUEk/s320/Us+Vs+Them.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I used to hang out with right-wing fundamentalist Christians who have a specific world view. This world view pits us against them. Us being the God-blessed Americans and them being whoever is in disfavor at the moment. But almost always people of "middle-eastern descent". Much of their specific view of the book of Revelation is used to support this us vs them mentality. It is Christianity taught/sponsored hatred. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This was a point of Revelation that I studied and tried to grasp for 15 straight years with my older sister. We went to seminars, we studied books on "the end times" and we tried to grasp how Christ was going to come back and how there was going to be an Antichrist and a bloodbath before that. This teaching supports this hatred, this us vs them mentality. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I have been out of the right-wing fundamentalist world - by choice - for a long time now. But I kept my finger on the pulse of the movement in Christian chat rooms on Yahoo where I learned about probably every denomination of Christianity known to mankind, some of them so obscure I had to search to research them, some of them so common I never thought to question what they taught.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And that, my friends, is the problem...Denominations so common I never thought to question what they taught. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As I moved out of fundamentalism (because I realized that even though I'd been trying to fit into that model of Christianity, my experiential view of God wouldn't allow me to anymore) I moved more naturally into a Centrist worldview, because that is where my heart pretty much always was, even while I was trying to squash it into the fundamentalist model. It is a Centrist position that I believe "most" of America lives in. Most of the Americans I know are not radically left OR radically right. We are somewhat right or left of center, but for the most part we live in a Centrist view where we want our people and our government and the radical right and radical left to work together.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">There are exceptions to those rules and a lot of those exceptions are very loud politicians. But they aren't, generally, the rank and file "we the people" of America. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Yahoo has since shut down their Chat rooms and I have lost the pulse of the Dominion movement, the Calvinists, and the 10,000 different denominations I came to know in Christianity (oh my aching head). I have lost the pulse of the ultra fundamentalist branches...no big deal, usually...</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Tonight I was in a social situation. I happened to mention that Saaed Abidini was released today in front of a friend of the friends I hang out with on the weekend. I thought this was a thing to rejoice. This person is a bit different than a lot of people I know, a very opinionated person, but I didn't realize until tonight the indoctrinated hatred this person has for people who are not like us. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It began with Saaed...Because he was in Iran...Because he is of middle-eastern descent, even though he was born in America and a pastor in Idaho. This makes him one of "those people". Those people are every middle-eastern person that has ever lived because they all hate us and want only to kill us all in our sleep. Or with huge bombs that inflict much damage to everyone and everything around it. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It spread to all Mexicans, then backwards in our history to all Vietnamese or anyone from "that part of the world". And if I had fought in the war with him I would understand and know that all of "those people" hate us and want nothing but death for us and how DARE we let any of them into our country. Every Syrian is coming here to kill us. Every Mexican gets free everything and we buy them a house and a car while we Americans have to work hard for our cars and houses. Every person who hates pork should be deported or killed...wait, what????</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I fought back, calmly and then vehemently...to no avail. You cannot stand in the face of such hate. I pointed out that his hate was similar to the hate he was decrying. Oh, no, American hate is patriotic and Christian. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And then he began on the President. Using vile names in place of his name. And I snapped and left because this social situation had become unbearable for me. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Normally, I handle this stuff pretty well, but I am out of practice and I've been sick a couple days this week and I wasn't on top of my game. I fled, and I cried, and I despaired because THIS is the gap we can't seem to bridge. This is the ingrained hatred we cannot seem to throw off - anything not exactly like us wants to harm us. And I cried all the way home for my country and for my friends, who had to sit through this and then have a guest flee their home. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We have agreed not to discuss politics (which this really wasn't politics exactly - it was more worldview) and that was sad too, because my friends are conservative and we manage to discuss our differences comfortably, respectfully, and we've never had an argument in the years we've been hanging out together. I guess it's because I barely know this man, and because, I believe, he has some PTSD from the war, and he had been drinking that allowed him to spew this hatred all over in a friendly social situation. I don't know. I guess I also had forgotten how vituperative it was, how much hatred it supports, and how sad that always makes me. </span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-21840237089506052972015-09-15T22:45:00.000-07:002015-10-11T22:46:44.833-07:00My sister, Sharon...<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, 'Droid Sans', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Last night we lost my oldest sister, </span><a href="https://m.facebook.com/sharon.endo.1?refid=52&_ft_=og_action_id.10154290949153146%3Atop_level_post_id.10154290949118146%3Atl_objid.10154290949118146&__tn__=%2As" style="background-color: white; color: #576b95; cursor: pointer; font-family: Roboto, 'Droid Sans', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">Sharon</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, 'Droid Sans', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">. She was only 66. Your sisters and your entire family will miss you so much. You were truly, as </span><a href="https://m.facebook.com/mysimplecountryliving?refid=52&_ft_=og_action_id.10154290949153146%3Atop_level_post_id.10154290949118146%3Atl_objid.10154290949118146&__tn__=%2As" style="background-color: white; color: #576b95; cursor: pointer; font-family: Roboto, 'Droid Sans', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">Heidi</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, 'Droid Sans', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> said, love incarnate. The beating heart and soul of your family. Everyone who has ever known you will miss you dearly. Say hi to my momma, our mom and dad and your own beloved mom and sister for us all!!! Rest in the glorious peace you so totally deserve.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_UEtZ6c7vjc_VXvYsrPJHmy53tb0WVv5S3T8MEWYCbP7eXy_6hDG1jWohGGHZe3mUQ-QU7MkqiDLLqaJO3vwk6r0JB_JLEgPVX84BgAE4XlwyM_fJwzeMUyttYC4pQfMxFh3FbBJEpxa/s1600/0811151358c%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_UEtZ6c7vjc_VXvYsrPJHmy53tb0WVv5S3T8MEWYCbP7eXy_6hDG1jWohGGHZe3mUQ-QU7MkqiDLLqaJO3vwk6r0JB_JLEgPVX84BgAE4XlwyM_fJwzeMUyttYC4pQfMxFh3FbBJEpxa/s320/0811151358c%257E2.jpg" width="249" /></a></div>
MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-59691765489468558742015-08-22T19:11:00.001-07:002015-08-22T19:12:12.764-07:00Cycles, Doors, Keys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSqqQ3seIabPFq7KNMUCjrczjiPSW3SQf6PjZ9ztfgwwvRT2kGLscCDRwvje6MZ3zLEnuV3QYtfx_WURx1PZV5G2taOCxwB2tfJt5bZzD9G9pjbLNeMmcgQNlw-m6Jfh4yq0h4MMwvlj2/s1600/Heart+Lock+Key.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSqqQ3seIabPFq7KNMUCjrczjiPSW3SQf6PjZ9ztfgwwvRT2kGLscCDRwvje6MZ3zLEnuV3QYtfx_WURx1PZV5G2taOCxwB2tfJt5bZzD9G9pjbLNeMmcgQNlw-m6Jfh4yq0h4MMwvlj2/s320/Heart+Lock+Key.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cycles of life...Doors & keys. You walk through a door to where you do not want to be and you stand there, holding the key, longing to go back in.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You start walking, looking back often, the key held to your heart, next to the longing to go back to what you knew and loved.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What's back behind that door shifts and changes, going on without you...as you go on in your live, outwardly moving on, inwardly holding that key, that longing, next to your heart.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Then, one day, a day you knew was coming, a day you braced yourself for happens, forcing you to open your hand to look at the key held there. Forcing you to face the reality that there is nothing that key to that door holds for you anymore and you MUST let it go...</span> </span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-71825636532251704722015-07-12T18:58:00.002-07:002015-07-12T19:13:29.958-07:00Suspended timelessness...<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBg_0D3fX66M8YgON-ydDZTvV8ro2l3QoHu-0mLEchad_C1q6qzK56SBHzKeCfbYeYxIafBe_4sNmc3Eb8iRbcu02OTNqwH9b10rewQkNbfWAh59Ucw1Bb84NpV8_kshfkQS77BzPLG-V/s1600/100_4910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBg_0D3fX66M8YgON-ydDZTvV8ro2l3QoHu-0mLEchad_C1q6qzK56SBHzKeCfbYeYxIafBe_4sNmc3Eb8iRbcu02OTNqwH9b10rewQkNbfWAh59Ucw1Bb84NpV8_kshfkQS77BzPLG-V/s400/100_4910.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I live a busy life. I don't know how my life got so busy, but it is what it is. Laundry, dishes, feeding the grandchild, water aerobics, visiting friends and family, I am on the go a LOT of the time...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have some friends with a boat. They have invited me out on their boat, and I really like it. I went once toward the end of the season last year and then this year I've already been out with them 3 times. I've posted pictures on Facebook that I took of my first time out on Deer Lake and Long Lake.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Today we went back to Long Lake. It was almost picture perfect weather. We'd dropped out of the 100s and 90s and the temperature didn't hit much above 84 degrees. I'd taken a ton of pictures last time we were there so I didn't have my camera even out of my bag. We just skimmed the lake, stopped occasionally, skimmed the lake some more and basically relaxed. And then it happened...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I can't see my phone or my watch because of the glare on the lake so I didn't have my phone out or my watch on. I wasn't time driven, in other words. And I was overtaken by this sense of suspended timelessness. Not knowing what time it was made it feel like we'd been out on the lake all day, and that we would always be on the lake. It was positively blissful to feel that disconnected from the demands of/driving nature of "time" and "things that have to be done". </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For the first time in many weeks I felt totally, 100% relaxed. This is not a state I have achieved much in my lifetime. Floating clouds, blue skies and a rocking boat are an amazing relaxant. Stepping out of my "driven" life was a glorious thing. I am so thankful to have had that experience. A feeling of such oneness with nature, the lake, the sky, the people in the boat. Wow, what a great day. Thank you, my friends, for taking me along and including me in such peace and beauty and bliss.</span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-19887332805744863532015-06-07T14:33:00.004-07:002015-06-07T14:34:52.615-07:00Wow....<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">October of 2014 was my last post...about bathtubs...LOL</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I am now 30 months past the day my life fell apart and I moved out of the house I loved and left the man I loved more than sense dictated that I should. I wouldn't relive that first year alone for all the money in the world...so much pain, emoting, crying, smashing things, ripping things, trashing things. Thank God for my cat who would crawl up on my chest and lick the tears off my face and put her paw on my face as she butted my chin with her head. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Year two was not as angst ridden. Lots of moments where I lost it, where I just wanted to scream and run and punch things, but, for the most part, I was finding my own balance, my own inner equilibrium. I was beginning to move through it all...I could see a light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how far away it looked. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I am now in year three....Good God where does time go?...and there came a month, I think it was March, when I looked up and realized...the light at the end of the tunnel is here and now. I am no longer shredded by seeing him (we share kids, there is ALWAYS seeing him). I can hear "our song" without falling into a puddle of tears. I can think of our life together and not ache so badly that I want to crawl into a hole. I have a life. It's full and busy and I've even been dating!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When I left him, the man I thought of as the love of my life and my soul mate, I did a lot of research into how long it was going to take before I stopped thinking of him and aching for him every single second of every single day and the wisdom said about 1 full month for every year you were together. We were together 23 years...They were pretty close, those wise psychologists whose blogs I read avidly as I fought one of the most emotional battles in my life. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I am thankful, so utterly thankful, to be here where I am now. To be at a place where I am enjoying my full and rich life full of friends (a special thank you to my BFF, Sheila, who is always there for me) and water aerobics and work and coworkers who ROCK the universe and family who stood by me while I grieved and didn't put me down for it (thank you to my children, Bethany, Amber (yes, even you were pretty gentle with me all things considered), David, Jeremy, Michael and Sean for letting me slog my way through the insanity of grief and pain without letting me fall off the edge of the earth, and a special thank you to my Daughter-in-Law, Tamara, for always asking me how I was, always caring, always letting me fall apart when it got so damn painful), without all of you I would never have made it through year 1. I am so blessed. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Onward into my new life!!!! May you all travel it with me!!!!</span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-76780636000151463842014-10-12T14:57:00.001-07:002014-10-12T15:04:28.387-07:00On bathtubs and bathing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgFNreeMfOfQ2r6D74spWHYp7xehRzxwe3q-ggGansRyj7FY6l5prmhfVrANPEEudW3WNUBHoAZL2PX-c3yDCoFXOsRlmfJqMSpsKvPLZrlwB248UoCsEDPQtQ10u_4YswfJj6UpAV05B/s1600/DSCF0013+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgFNreeMfOfQ2r6D74spWHYp7xehRzxwe3q-ggGansRyj7FY6l5prmhfVrANPEEudW3WNUBHoAZL2PX-c3yDCoFXOsRlmfJqMSpsKvPLZrlwB248UoCsEDPQtQ10u_4YswfJj6UpAV05B/s1600/DSCF0013+(4).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I have almost always hate bathing. I see it as akin to soaking dirty dishes in water. Ick...and I have avoided baths most of my life.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The house at 2519 W College Ave where I grew up, intermittently, did not have a shower. It had a claw footed bathtub, where I bathed until 1 month before I turned 13. Then I went to live with my father and step-mother and from that time on we had the "modern" kinds of bathtubs that don't hold a candle to a claw-footed tub in depth/length/comfort. I stopped bathing at that time.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Throughout my life I heard people wax eloquent about the relaxation of baths...I laughed at the thought. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then we moved into the Lincoln house up here in Spokane. It only had an enclosed, claw-footed tub. We learned to deal with bathing instead of showering (although I had to be taught how to sit down in a tub again - crazy!!!). </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And then, three moves later, I moved here, to The Daniels apartments, which also only has a claw-footed tub. And I finally learned why people like these things...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Epsom-salt baths by candlelight are very soothing. Add music and a drink, or your Kindle and a cup of coffee and it becomes almost spa-like. 21 months of bathing in unlimited hot water, paid for by my apartment complex, where you can let the water run after you get in the tub and therefore keep it hot, has been amazing as I negotiated the emotional morass of my divorce and beyond and the pain of my hurt foot and knee. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Now we have applied for a new apartment that only has that molded, one-piece, modern kind of tub that makes bathing a waste of time...and I realize...I'm really going to miss this...</span></span></span><br />
<br />MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-27560663711868919732014-08-05T20:11:00.002-07:002014-08-05T20:30:33.024-07:00We are trying to raise money to move!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19_26r9XoyJ0VhfG4-hmSnaIqqOAcnXYxsvI-JuZsXRqXLInF7pR_dEKnr4q22vz68lqGxo63PqfPU9OAISYiiA2Vnc3cg7dtBlV6iKaG3BXzF1f46GikTPcl6GTmFSXkDQ1UP0EHi94n/s1600/CornerstoneCourtyard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19_26r9XoyJ0VhfG4-hmSnaIqqOAcnXYxsvI-JuZsXRqXLInF7pR_dEKnr4q22vz68lqGxo63PqfPU9OAISYiiA2Vnc3cg7dtBlV6iKaG3BXzF1f46GikTPcl6GTmFSXkDQ1UP0EHi94n/s1600/CornerstoneCourtyard.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My son's fiancé is living in a very
unstable place for her where she was supposed to be out by the birth of the
baby. We've managed to get more time given to us, but it is a matter of weeks
before she has to begin sleeping on other peoples couches and dragging the
baby/stuff along with her.<br />
<br />
My son is also in a very difficult living situation and could be asked to leave
at any moment. <br />
<br />
Today, a government sponsored apartment house that we are on the waiting list
for, called me for an apartment coming open on the first of September!!! We
need to raise the $120 application fees in 24 hours. The rest
(first/last/deposit) we have a couple of weeks to raise. <br />
<br />
The rent is $700. We need first/last and a $700 deposit. Plus enough to rent a
truck and put gas in it to move all 3 of us from 3 different parts of the city.
Plus the application fees. <br />
<br />
I have been unemployed for 5 months which puts us in a huge bind. Before that
my son, his fiancé, and their baby girl, Bethany-Rose, born August 2nd, and I
were going to move in together. All that was shelved when I lost my job. We had
hoped I would get another job more quickly than I did, but it took longer...I
am starting my new job on Monday, August 8th. I will not even see my first
paycheck until the first week of September.<br />
<br />
Thank you for even considering helping us!!!</span></span></span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Update: We have raised the application fee!!!!! </span></span></span></div>
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<![endif]-->MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-62937636327222718292014-06-29T16:22:00.000-07:002014-06-29T16:23:06.883-07:00Tangible things...<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYTIaUQ7natzXZV75n1d963lK8mL89rOHkh9Uyt8J193jcoFRqzO2cmpGoCDtXVHtwb7Svfg831ss-poIRujBIbYfpBYucXKux5RMjHjiZOOeRCiH3MJBPsonEGDIbEUN7oSxDXKLFY4m/s1600/DSCF0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYTIaUQ7natzXZV75n1d963lK8mL89rOHkh9Uyt8J193jcoFRqzO2cmpGoCDtXVHtwb7Svfg831ss-poIRujBIbYfpBYucXKux5RMjHjiZOOeRCiH3MJBPsonEGDIbEUN7oSxDXKLFY4m/s1600/DSCF0008.JPG" height="320" width="164" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 year, 6 months and 20 days ago I moved out of my home with my husband and my sons and into my own little apartment. That same evening I went grocery shopping for myself for the first time...possibly ever. One of the things I bought was a container of Lawry's Seasoned Salt. Tonight I ran out of that exact bottle...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I have learned much in this 18 months and 20 days, some of it unlike anything I've learned before, and mostly about myself. I've face fears and taken on challenges, both real and emotional, and I've survived it all, and...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was actually doing really well until March, when I lost my job. That complicated things so very much. I'm hanging on by the skin on my teeth (where did that saying even come from, anyway???) but it's getting more and more difficult every month without a job. To say I've become an even better money juggler is an understatement...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But I have learned that I am a survivor. Whether I want to be or not, whether I feel like it or not, I simply cannot make that decision that I've seen some other people make to "give up" and let life happen to them. I am seeking work daily. I am interviewing almost weekly. I'm attending classes mandated by the unemployment office and learning. And I'm walking and seeking better health choices. And I pray...a lot. Because I cannot "make" someone hire me. I can only dress myself up and offer myself...the rest is up to them...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If you would, pray with me and for me? Surviving is so damn difficult these days. I'm tired, and I'm faltering, and I can use all the help I can get...Thank you.</span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-32577609003935083382014-04-22T10:05:00.002-07:002014-04-22T10:06:21.380-07:00Sakura-Con 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNziGugxHQ0_AxzGTk4Wj4JjKDKK6msntDKVUt7jjDvyLYGcRBhwTovqgdZ4F-xDn-E1DRhyphenhyphentXx4SHzLo7sfektP98tTujer7Hk9uB2ZpuEMDEyNgVMhzhm7UTxrJkQi8v0MTouAa_NJ8U/s1600/DSCF0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNziGugxHQ0_AxzGTk4Wj4JjKDKK6msntDKVUt7jjDvyLYGcRBhwTovqgdZ4F-xDn-E1DRhyphenhyphentXx4SHzLo7sfektP98tTujer7Hk9uB2ZpuEMDEyNgVMhzhm7UTxrJkQi8v0MTouAa_NJ8U/s1600/DSCF0012.JPG" height="320" width="196" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Sakura-con
reveres and celebrates fantasy...that longing inside us to be "other"
than what we are...to be a hero, a savior, a villain in our life and the
lives of others. At <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=112641538747114&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sakura-Con/112641538747114">Sakura-Con</a>
you get to put on that persona, at least in costume, for the whole
world to see...and for 3 days you show and share that otherness with
other freaks and geeks like you. A sharing of being unlike any other
allowed in reality. It was like stepping into a giant fairy tale with
princesses and the evil characters all running around. Sort of a virtual
3-day Neverland where everyone got to be a kid again...Wildness!!!</span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-83402961094457835852014-04-04T22:12:00.002-07:002014-04-04T22:12:24.646-07:00Facing Fears...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUhzVuT4Kp9qyfzlNViYK_4CoQqSFoR3g8mN-YTVlNlO9g7wYd4YITdl2t9SoyehAmz-tncrxEVj8_f3hu3cxzQIpA5FzfMC2foZfMEMajffyhNW_i7bSpHRWp9Pd_jgVQ_d2X90arQOr/s1600/010713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUhzVuT4Kp9qyfzlNViYK_4CoQqSFoR3g8mN-YTVlNlO9g7wYd4YITdl2t9SoyehAmz-tncrxEVj8_f3hu3cxzQIpA5FzfMC2foZfMEMajffyhNW_i7bSpHRWp9Pd_jgVQ_d2X90arQOr/s1600/010713.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">I had one of those childhoods that left me with a specific set of fears that are not necessarily rational, but are there anyway, waiting in the dark to reach up and grab me and slam me to the floor. The past 16 months I've had to face down several of them, and I discovered that one fear I thought I would face, wasn't a thing I feared after all.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Then I lost my job. Funny, in all of my life I have rarely had to fear losing my home (whatever that home was at the time) until now. The loss of my job threw me up against two fears, one known, one unknown.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">The fear of hunger. When a child spends a large percentage of her first 12 years hungry, it makes an impressive impact on the mind. Just saying the word "diet" causes my brain to overreact to the thought of deprivation which equals hunger and sets me up for failure. I've learned to use other terminology...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">Then there is the loss of the place I am living...I have a love/hate relationship with this apartment...It's old, it has issues, and management is often not responsive enough. But I poured a lot of sweat and an ocean of tears into my existence here and, when faced with the thought of losing this 587 square feet, I went into panic overload. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">"What do I have to give away?" (How much more of myself embodied in my books and trinkets can I give away without losing myself...) "Where on God's earth will I store the few things I don't want to give away?" (my bed, my kitchen table, my dishes, my books, my trinkets...) "How many boxes can I fit in my car?" "Where will I be able to safely park my car AND sleep in it?" </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">And suddenly this little corner of the world, this little apartment with it's stained paint and no shower and bad plumbing becomes so very dear to my heart because it's MY corner of the world...the place that sheltered me through the storm of the last 16 months...the place where I painted things and decorated on my own for the very first time in my life EVER...the place where I feel safe and ME. And knowing I could lose this little corner of the world has been the most difficult fear I've face this past 16 months. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I could barely force myself out of bed in the morning...I was almost immobilized. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #073763;">I'm just barely past the fear now...It's worked it's paralyzing self through me and man, I am so tired of my life collapsing beneath me that I cannot even EXPRESS it adequately. And I don't know how to live a life that doesn't shift and change like this...Even if I get another job next week there is no guarantee that I won't lose it again and have this cycle of fear slam dunk me...And there simply isn't a way to prevent it, so I'm working through it slowly as I realize this uncertainty could haunt me all the rest of my life...GAH. </span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-50309381385611528622014-03-14T20:26:00.001-07:002014-03-14T20:29:28.877-07:00Weirdness...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSlqLCGmztU6UOHhN5tGtfmwDJanZs08W0W3zxXgfji2DIr9OewyFRW7Zi636Z-wXjsT27N3pd_1ZnGaP4p7b_2WtPn1ruq6gyKWTlOViwX8e2QbeweHGVkixbGGKxvjQTAwAgHXhqkew/s1600/following_your_dreams_by_lost_in_happiness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSlqLCGmztU6UOHhN5tGtfmwDJanZs08W0W3zxXgfji2DIr9OewyFRW7Zi636Z-wXjsT27N3pd_1ZnGaP4p7b_2WtPn1ruq6gyKWTlOViwX8e2QbeweHGVkixbGGKxvjQTAwAgHXhqkew/s1600/following_your_dreams_by_lost_in_happiness.jpg" height="287" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have watched my husband, now my ex, through the fledgling beginning of his new relationship...it was a rough ride for me on so many levels. I saw many things on his face, in his eyes...but I didn't realize I was waiting...for something...until I saw it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The beginning of their new relationship was exhausting for him, I could see this very clearly. And he was battling high blood pressure at the same time. We were sharing the car for much of this time and I could see the struggle every weekend. Some weekends he literally looked ashen and drained. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Starting at the beginning of the year we ceased to share the car, and I pretty much ceased to see him, making my recovery somewhat easier.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Monday, I drove over to drop my son off. I came around the corner and he was standing halfway in the doorway to the back landing. Half of his face was in shadow as he was looking back into the house, at her, this I knew, because one of my sons was in my car, the other was asleep in the basement. And I saw...happiness. For the first time since they began, I saw the glow of happiness on his face and...I will try to describe what it felt like to me at that moment...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was as if a fist that had been clenched around my heart let go. Like a weight dropped off my shoulders. Like my spirit lightened in color by several shades...it was pure, unadulterated relief. I felt lighter and purer and, unbelievably, happier in myself. I had the most peaceful few days, emotionally, than I have had for a LONG time...and the peace has continued to carry me through. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I think I am the weirdest person I have ever known, truly. And this reaction proved it to me, yet again... </span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-8963955715272576142014-03-03T22:07:00.000-08:002014-03-03T22:07:10.745-08:00Some days...<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">It's easier...some days it's not. I find myself writing random notes that I never copy anywhere. I thought I'd copy two of them in here...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">The pool of stillness</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Deep within</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Writhes with memories</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Now & then</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Calling me to</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">A longing for</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">What I do not know...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">And then...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">The inner aloneness haunts me and makes me ache for a mind to share my being...but I fear that no one will ever care...</span></span></span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-69303314579260215232013-12-09T15:26:00.001-08:002013-12-09T15:26:49.703-08:00One full year...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDy0QB6naT8ziKCIpUNBJ7JAResUSVWqC4A6aP25ZZxZ2rqV31M_jhiYMFLgDeLc2LYD9GmrmJQDnLER6TiKV4y90ndXGGD2c195IB1_bVGvFgHT8ot6P2SNrCJsd4Vv0LqGTUPddqRKi_/s1600/BlueButterfly4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDy0QB6naT8ziKCIpUNBJ7JAResUSVWqC4A6aP25ZZxZ2rqV31M_jhiYMFLgDeLc2LYD9GmrmJQDnLER6TiKV4y90ndXGGD2c195IB1_bVGvFgHT8ot6P2SNrCJsd4Vv0LqGTUPddqRKi_/s320/BlueButterfly4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
A year ago today I left my home, my husband, my boys and moved into a small apartment...<br />
<br />
I actually started this post about a week ago. Typing that one leading line caused me to go into a sobbing fit so I couldn't post a blog at all. Funny how that happens...<br />
<br />
A song came on the radio this morning as I drove to work...I'm driving and singing along and suddenly I'm sobbing...<br />
<br />
However, for the most part I'm good, stable, on an even keel. I'm growing and working out when I manage to go and walking and singing with the radio and working on myself spiritually and emotionally...<br />
<br />
I had Michael and Sean over for Thanksgiving and it was good. Family and warmth and good food and great conversation. Then we took dessert to Jeremy and Tamara's and had more family and good food. We will repeat this ritual for Christmas.<br />
<br />
Life will never be the same. And I've grown OK with this idea. I still have moments when I miss him desperately, miss my house, my life, my boys...but I am building a new life with a new place for my boys and my boys and I are talking about finding a house and moving in together and that will rock, too. It will bring new challenges, but ones we can handle together. I'm looking forward to this.<br />
<br />
My new job is exhausting and fulfilling in a strange way and compelling and moving. I touch people in little ways every single day and that touches my heart. And they touch me, by sharing tiny glimpses of who they are with me. Small joys and heartbreaks. The thing that makes customer service so fulfilling. I still have a LOT to learn at my new job, but I am confident that I will master this job to the best of my ability, given time. <br />
<br />
I'm coming out of my cocoon and learning to flex my wings and fly...and that is a very good thing.<br />
<br />MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-49867094269728821862013-11-19T16:53:00.004-08:002013-11-19T16:53:47.895-08:00November 19th, 2013: The Day of Divorce<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh184C9-uf4O4umgy305fejUVeQ1s7chpLdw0gM3T51WIkZ_vXtQjjYTd-Z_zeGHw5erHYcdIgGc82l8ObviuG9eFVpJAQPmcFkJNf8n1-Yy8DxsfI0Git_PNZ2YZ6LYtXgX-QIfk6pjlsz/s1600/FreeToBeMe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh184C9-uf4O4umgy305fejUVeQ1s7chpLdw0gM3T51WIkZ_vXtQjjYTd-Z_zeGHw5erHYcdIgGc82l8ObviuG9eFVpJAQPmcFkJNf8n1-Yy8DxsfI0Git_PNZ2YZ6LYtXgX-QIfk6pjlsz/s400/FreeToBeMe.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">Today obviously made more of an impact on me than it did on him...</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">I
woke up at 7AM and bathed and got ready. I polished my nails and did my
makeup. I chose my clothing with care, remembering the care I took
getting ready for our marriage. I wore my blue silk blouse and my black
jeans with sparkles.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">He wore a brown shirt and jeans.
His hair wasn't even brushed. As I struggled to fill out last minute
papers, he played Bejeweled on his phone.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">We pretty much approached life from radically different places and this was a clear example of that dichotomy.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">It is finished...We are divorced...</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">I
loved him unflinchingly, unfailingly and completely for 22 years and 11
months, from our first brief kiss at Mr. Gatti's in Austin, Texas.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">He hugged me, I touched his face, we walked away. Sadness engulfed me.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">~~~~~~~~~~</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4c1130;">So,
now I build a life for myself...Not that I thought we'd ever be
together again & not that I haven't been "building" a life these
past 11 months, because I have been...But today I am divorced...no
longer married...single...my own person...free to be what I want to be,
whatever that turns out to be.</span>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-67850889462794286562013-11-19T08:24:00.001-08:002013-11-19T08:24:43.092-08:00Stand against "To Train Up A Child (In The Way They Should Go)" parenting books!!!!!<a href="http://musemama.blogspot.com/2010/02/bring-back-boycott.html" target="_blank"><img alt="Muse Mama" border="0" src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y163/AnneBasso/Blog%20Tools/ttuac7.jpg" /></a>MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-85461718521790692362013-11-14T18:28:00.004-08:002013-11-14T18:29:13.271-08:00Silent stillness...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27UsHozAxNGKj6P4Nz8U0zLnpnCNZYcROB3AiIjlkdpzyYgUHAztciYiUdoBoDl6k62du3wu0GFNpCfipPMIKR85T5L7iJKYg_pJA_n3eO4t-ns_2ff2j8TLVHhmk3AkWKBZAL5zkp3Z4/s1600/HeartonFire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27UsHozAxNGKj6P4Nz8U0zLnpnCNZYcROB3AiIjlkdpzyYgUHAztciYiUdoBoDl6k62du3wu0GFNpCfipPMIKR85T5L7iJKYg_pJA_n3eO4t-ns_2ff2j8TLVHhmk3AkWKBZAL5zkp3Z4/s320/HeartonFire.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The pool of silence threatens me</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Deep and black and still</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Beckoning my soul to take a dip</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In emotion cold and old</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I stand frozen with longing</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My heart burning with pain</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And then I force myself to turn</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To walk away again</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Knowing that a better life</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Cannot be found therein...</span></span></span><br />
<br />MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-37874035463568357742013-10-16T22:18:00.001-07:002013-10-16T22:20:51.097-07:00Life...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgGiqGJvq1tqVuh7hJ-X2XXlmApuP3AYCzMRbMcKmUWpgXmMEXpGPrGD88GyVV36OEpi_lKD9Jzw1s4umP09surgRpPlIbmasTHHZsEHH3TlrVdUlLQ6fHtsv5cllBkK31BnzE9rWW6CT/s1600/life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgGiqGJvq1tqVuh7hJ-X2XXlmApuP3AYCzMRbMcKmUWpgXmMEXpGPrGD88GyVV36OEpi_lKD9Jzw1s4umP09surgRpPlIbmasTHHZsEHH3TlrVdUlLQ6fHtsv5cllBkK31BnzE9rWW6CT/s320/life.jpg" width="320" /> </a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Life has a tendency to go on…whether you want it to or not,
whether you are ready or not, whether it hurts or not. And my life has gone on…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I have a rhythm…up at 6:30AM, work at 8:15, off at 5:15ish.
Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I go to water aerobics…Saturdays I take the
soon-to-be-ex the car. The way we are doing the car exchange pretty much
guarantees I don’t get to go anywhere on my days off. This is frustrating to me
but there seems to be nothing I can do to change it, which is a tad
discouraging. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I met a man at work. We went to coffee and he talked for about
an hour and a half…I’m thinking we won’t work as a “dating couple”. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">There were a couple of really trivial things I didn’t like
about him (he didn’t brush his hair before coming to coffee, he just put it
back in a ponytail all matted on the side; he unbuttoned the top 3 buttons of
his button-up shirt, showing his chest hair, which I consider icky, and one
thing that really bothered me…He had a great job with the city and because they
asked him to learn to use a computer for his inventory, he chose to retire
early (from a job he stated he LOVED) rather than learn this new technology. To
me that is an indication of a set-in-his-wayness that I don’t think I could
handle. And, he down-talked his boys to a degree that made me uncomfortable.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">One of my friends said, “Give him another chance, you might
be wrong <i>and “anything is better than
being alone forever.”</i> I was a tad floored by that comment. To “settle” for
whatever because one might be alone indicates a fear of being alone that I do
not share. I haven’t minded being alone, per se, although there is much about
being in a couple that I miss…So I am not going to date someone simply because
the alternative is my own company.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I am a tad spoiled, having been married to a vibrant man 20
years my junior that shared my love of sci-fi and technology. I know this will
be an issue for some men my own age…Sigh. Not that he had a “young” body, per
se…He was kind of soft and squishy…that isn’t what I desired, it was his
essence, his spark, that which called me into passion. I am not sure I will
ever experience that level of passion again. That is a thought that makes me a
tad sad…but I’m not going to rule it out. It might be out there…Mostly I miss
kissing…I miss it very, very much. But most men will not be content with just a
kissing relationship…they will want more. And it is this “more” that I’m not
sure I am ever going to be able to give again…</span></span></div>
MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1109678006957946787.post-24051241608072336822013-09-14T22:21:00.002-07:002013-09-15T22:14:46.701-07:00WARNING: Geeky Blog Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-iAN5iv2WBhPz7EMvdm5P_0cwToOKCKv8nzP78iyPJiMW0m4H0cIhPRbjHq-JNA1eMSL2lGkct6ucti_oIjUPrwLPctSiD7GYwY1Brt3BSnYY4MiVvJx1qLBX3ApiZHuPizAsABhSgdZ/s1600/DavidTenantToMattSmithRegeneration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-iAN5iv2WBhPz7EMvdm5P_0cwToOKCKv8nzP78iyPJiMW0m4H0cIhPRbjHq-JNA1eMSL2lGkct6ucti_oIjUPrwLPctSiD7GYwY1Brt3BSnYY4MiVvJx1qLBX3ApiZHuPizAsABhSgdZ/s320/DavidTenantToMattSmithRegeneration.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">I just rewatched "The End of Time" episodes where Dr Who as David Tenant dies and regenerates to be Matt Smith...and I was just sobbing my guts out because this was OUR show and this was OUR doctor and, like him, our marriage suffered a fatal dose of radiation and it was like a shredding, ripping, wrenching death...but then I started thinking that, like The Doctor, I am regenerating, albeit more slowly than the Doctor...</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">And, like The Doctor, I don't know what I'll look like/be like on the other side...Allons-y!!!</span></span><br />
<br />MysticBlueRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15206959063908087622noreply@blogger.com0