Somedays are about being broken.  I took all day yesterday thinking that if I took a day to recoop from school work for a day, that I could get back on the horse and ride it through the next 8 days.  Turns out, not so much.  All it took was the glitch in a computer printing for me to fall a part.  I was screaming at my husband and beating on the computer and in a total disaster of a moment.  My husband's last torid comment was "Why can't you act like an adult?!".  My answer was BECAUSE!

Yes, it was that bad. 

Once I settled down, and my husband disappeared into a world of weed eating, I called my Mom.  She did what Mom's always does and reminds me that it is just not that big of a deal and that it really doesn't matter and that it's all gonna be okay.  It made me cry some more.  I realized that the computer/printer was just the straw that broke the camel's back and that it had been a long time coming.  I just broke: gave way to the pressures. 

I finished my printing.  I mailed my invites.  I went into town to do some banking.  The whole time I wasn't really all that cognizant, mostly just going through the motions.  I came home and made some lunch and watch a little something on tv.  And now the headache has set in from the overwhelming onslought of emotional crisis.  While yesterday was about rest, today was about emotions. 

There had not been a whole lot of God in my day today.  I did say my prayers this morning, but I have not prayed since.  Mostly just a lot of Self.  Whenever I am this full of self, I do break.  I have to surender all over again and remember that I am not God.  Today is just a day of brokeness. The process of getting to the place to start over...again.   

"Who Knocks at the Door of Learning?"
"I am EveryWoman"
"What do you seek?"
"To awaken my Spirit through Hardwork and dedicate my life to Knowledge"
"Then You are welcome, all women who seek to follow You can enter Here"

My life is totally out of my control.  As much as I would love to fit into my Red dress with White polkadots, it is not going to happen today.  The last two weeks have been all about what I sought.  I started down the path of educational experience three years ago.  I recognize that this journey is contributory to me being sick and tired.  I am not sick of school as much as I am tired of it.  I am exhausted of tests, papers, the headache of trying to complete the long awaited senior final semester. 

As a young woman I completed a liberal arts degree, which was...liberating.  I had no tools to find my way in the world.  I had no understanding of myself, who I was or who I wanted to be.  The education was not for me but for all those who thought that I should have an education.  Unfortunately, I was unable to use what I had acheived.  I thought that I should try again.  I thought, maybe I could find something to do of use.

Once again, I find myself in the same predicament as I did three years ago: unemployed and of no use.  I am sick of unemployment. 

I chose this path.  I love the work.  I love the opportunities it presents.  I just hope now that I have found a career, I can get hired. 

There has been no obtaining my seven goals that I set.  My weight has not increased nor has it decreased.  I am still sick and tired.  Just thinking about changing my eating is a tumultuous upheaval of emotions: selfpity, anger, frustration, overwhelming disgust and tremendous fear.  My prayers to God lately have been about "get me through this day" than about "help me eat right."  Being thin has not been my focus.  I made a decision for a different focus back in August of 2007.  Now all I have left for that focus is 8 days.  In 8 days I will have no more tests, papers, finals.  In eight days I will have no more school.  In 8 days all life as I have known it for the past three years will be over. 

I hope that the hard work I have put into becoming of use will transfer into changing my body. 

Overheard at Easter:

John: That's what you should look like Rae! 
Rae: Yeah, well I was dancing for an hour a day, swimming for an hour and a half and gosh only knows what else.  So...if you are willing to give up your quality time with me, sure I can be that. 

This is the kind of thing I am used to: what I used to look like everywhere I turn.  I was a thin, beautiful, active young woman who was in every club I could be, a part of musicals, choirs, handbells, played violin (which requires lessons & practice) and piano, was maintaining a 3.47 GPA, babysat to make money AND had a social life.  Can you say WHAT?! 90 miles an hour with my hair on fire.  That is me.  I still go 90 miles an hour these days and the stress is different but still there.  Now instead of getting into college, it is finding a job.  Instead of paying for my mission trips, clothes etc, it's paying the bills.  Instead of the best GPA, it's being the best person I can be. 

Unfortunately, fat means fatigue, fatigue, fatigue.  Not to mention I take two allergy meds that both say: may cause drowsiness (uh, understatement!!!).  I have never been so tired in my life as I have been in the past couple years.

I have always heard that exercise gives you energy, but here on Day 5, I am totally exhausted.  I want to lay down for a nap for about an hour.  It would be so nice.  But I asked God to get me down that driveway.  My best friend has also suggested some modifications to what I was doing.  She said the situps are useless at this point and I need to focus on whole body.  So I am supposed to jump rope 1 min, pushups 1 min, lunges 1 min (no break) and then run my driveway down and back.  Then 2-3 min break and do it again.  It makes me tired just thinking bout it. 

Of course I also have to research sources for my papers, take a quiz for advanced financial accounting, send out a few resumes, turn the laundry over, do the dishes, switch my winter clothes to spring clothes, pay attention to my husband, get drinks for Beta Alpha Psi function tomorrow and go grocery shopping, not to mention get to bed at a decent hour (1130 would be awesome).  Fatigue. 

Did I mention it was a beautiful day outside?  I mean down right gorgeous?  And God spilt my dinner on my kahki's so I have to change...into my workout gear. 

You think I could outsource my nap?

Day One: Started blog over, ran down the driveway. 

Now this sounds a bit rediculous to some people: running down the driveway.  My Mom could run down her driveway in four steps.  Maybe more, she is short.  But her driveway is just a bit longer than the length of her car, which means it is not much of one.  But then again, I think she lives on a postage stamp.  Very small land. 

I live on a 65+/- acre farm.  I don't live on the edge of the farm.  I don't live at one of the four corners of the farm.  I live square in the middle of the pasture.  When I look out my front window: cows.  When I look out my back window: cows.  Doesn't matter where I am: cows. 

In order to get to where I live, it is .2 of a mile down a dirt road.  The entire length of the road, which runs right up to the fence gate is .25 of a mile.  This is not a friendly dirt drive.  It is not like oh, how sweet, I am driving to the little house on the prairie.  It is full of dirt, cow patties, a calf on occasion who gets out from under the wire, rocks, a golf ball (noticed it the other day buried deep), hills and dips and finally levels off at the road and or my shack.  It is dirty and rough.  But because it is a quarter mile long, it makes for nice laps.  Two laps = 1 mile.  I don't keep track of time or anything like that because it is just a miracle in and of its self that I am running at all. 

In order for me to get down my driveway, I pray in my morning prayers: God get me down that driveway.  Of course He doesn't put my running shoes on for me or plug my i-pod in or open the door to the shack to let me out.  I am not really sure what He does, but I still ask for help because when I have asked for help in the past, He always helps.

So I ran one mile.  I did 5 real pushups (not those pansy girlly ones that just unequalize the playing field and oppress women).  I did 100 crunches.  I did 40 bicep curls per arm.  It felt good.  I was sweating like those people in the gym. 

Here's to living on a farm with a built in track. 

Here's to my red dress with white polka dots.

  I suffer from two deadly sins: sloth and gluttony.  I don't ever want to do anything and I want what I want when I want it.  This is the King Baby syndrome, although I like to think of myself as a princess.  Yes, this is egotistical and down right repulsive, so welcome to my innards.  I am not a goddess as those transcendentalists women say about themselves.  I don't like to pretend I am something I am not just to make me feel better about myself.  It is unrealistic, and I am unrealistic enough with my princess hat.  I am who I am, for better or for worse.  I have come to a point in my life where I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of my gluttonous and slothful ways.  I am at a jumping off place.  I am willing to go to any lengths to change...my body.  I am sick and tired of the way I look and act to look that way! 

So a little about me...starting with my weight.  I am 175 lbs.  It is not the heaviest I have ever been, but it is not who I want to be either.  I am 5'4" so this is a little on the chunky side. 

Goal One: Lose 40lbs: I have heard that "you" should have a flexible weight range because we are never one steady eddy weight so I would like to be between 135-145 lbs. 

I am a size 12 in Walmart jeans, but a size 14 in just about everything else.  I wear a size DD bra which is totally uncomfortable and literally back breaking.  I hate it.  I would love to be a C again.  I wear large to exta large shirts depending on the maker.  I don't even want to talk about dresses bc it would mean showing my legs which used to be a great asset and now have things like stretch marks and early signs of spider veins.  Bathing suits are out of the question this year unless...I feel like my body is screaming at me to lose the weight.  It is embarrasing to shop for clothes and when I get dressed in the morning there is nothing, just absolutely nothing that looks good on other than a tent that I can hide under and hope no one notices me, which with my personality is virtually impossible. 

Goal Two: Size 8? That would mean I would lose 4 sizes.  Is that 40lbs? I don't know.  I hope so.

I love to eat what I want to eat when I want to eat it.  I love Moose Tracks Icecream; Hotdogs with ketchup, mustard and relish and a little cheese; Meat Lovers PIZZA with dough crust; White Cheddar Cheezits by the box; Spaghettios, spaghetti for that matter.

Goal Three: Eat more fruits and veggies, less junk

I used to be an 8 Varsity letterman in high school.  Mostly, I liked the social nature of sports.  I like the teams.  I liked that even though I was totally wrung out from swimming a bazillion laps in the pool, Casey would look at me and go: you can do it, get in there and then he'd dive out in front of me without listening to my "yeah, but"s, so I would be forced to follow him and in the water I'd go.  These days, I do nothing.  When I say nothing, I mean nothing.  I watch lots of tv, read a few text books, facebook and make dinner.  Sometimes I don't even do chores, just because it is exhausting to do. 

Goal Four: Do SOMETHING.  Preferably chores and exercise.

I should mention, I have a huge spiritual component to my life.  While I am egotistical as all hell, I am also beginning a journey with the God of my understanding, which for those of you who don't know, that would be GOD.  I don't think there are more than one, although Genisis is raising some questions about that as it refers to God as a plural beings.  Anyway! I am nine years and nine months down this path.  There are several things I do on a daily basis, without fail: 1) I pray every morning and every night 2) I try to practice spiritual principals such as being honest, having integrity, awareness of God, helping others, discipline. 

Goal Five: Put God in my eating habits, my dress size, my exercise and ask for help to eliminate my selfishness.  Make me a temple for the Lord as they say. 

It feels like I should have a date to work on some of these...

Goal Six: Wear the red dress with polka dots (sz 10) to my July 4th party!

Seems like I should have 7 goals since it is a holy number...

Goal Seven! Keep the blog up. 

My auditing class has been so different from my other classes. I went to the class with the same professor that I have had over and over and she began the lecture. Not for the first time, it sounded a little like she was speaking Greek. I thought maybe, just maybe I will read the chapter and it will translate better. Maybe, I am just having a distracted day bc it is the first day of class and I am so grateful to be among my friends. I don't usually read the chapters in her courses but that is probably why I have never made an A in her class either!

So I read the first chapter. "Assurance services consist of two types: those that increase reliability and those that involve putting information in form or context of decision making...A major subset of assurance services is called attestation services. To attest to information means to provide assurance to its reliability." Do we like circles? Are we insane? Is it just me or is this GREEK. Turns out, it is Auditing not Greek.

I have been hammering along, listening to lectures with detailed note taking; reading the book like a good girl; working with my teammate on "engagements" and online quizzes...greek.

And then tonight, the eve of the first Auditing Exam, it just happens. I read the sentence and understood it. There are students freaking out all over North Georgia studying for this exam and it hits me like a thunderbolt, I got it. I understand Auditing...well at least the four chapters I am going to take the test over anyway, but probably not so much for a section of the CPA Exam. Whatever.

So being the trooper I am and doing the due diligence for this Exam. Study, study, study....Pray, pray, pray.

Who knows, maybe I will start speaking Greek before it is all said and done.

Mental Illness has been the topic of my tv viewing twice in one week. Being mentally ill compels me to write about it. Both of the vids I saw pointed out that being mentally ill does not excuse the behavior of the mentally ill person.

The first video was of Jason Brooks the NYTimes writer who faked out the world. He claimed in an interview on FOX that he didn't want his mental illness to excuse his actions, that what he did was wrong and he intended to tell the world about his experience. He was interviewed just prior to going to teach a seminar on ethics. Who better to teach about unethical behavior than someone who has been unethical and immoral?

The second video was one of my favorite tv shows, Law & Order SVU. The prosecutor, Kasey, spares a man's life because he is schizophrenic and was off his meds when he raped and nearly killed several little girls. When on his meds, his actions were so horrific to himself that he tried to kill himself. He feels responsible, guilty and convicted on his own conscience without any regard for what the state thinks. She states that one day maybe he will be able to forgive himself because he's not responsible. "Oh, aren't I?" he retorts...

I have a mental illness. When intoxicated I do things that I would never do when sober. I have behaved in incomprehensible pitifully demoralizing ways. In order to recover from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body, I had to do some real self searching, level my pride and confession of sin for a successful consummation. This discipline allowed me to right the wrongs of my past so I can stand tall and look the world in the eye without any remorse, guilt or conviction. I have assumed the responsibility for my past and now use it to help others know that they too can get better.

My professor saw Mr. Brooks as a sorry s.o.b. who would never amount to anything and should never be trusted. There was no room for forgiveness on my profs part. All I could think was that I would never tell my prof about who I really was because who knows if he would forgive me for my sins? The character Kasey instantly recognized the mental illness and found compassion in her heart to excuse the schizophrenic for his heinous acts despite his own repugnance for himself. Some days I wonder if I can ever forgive myself too.

I hear over and over this question:

Is mental illness a moral issue?

Some days it is and some days it isn't. I find that when my mental illness is in remission my actions are absolutely a moral issue, but when I am in the thick of my disease I cannot not drink. I cannot not be a stark raving lunatic. I go bezerk some days off of my own thinking without ever taking a drink and it is just all mentally irrational thinking: very similar to a skitzoid's. It is a very thin line. Skitzos can take pills and their mental illness subsides, a bit. There is no pill for me. There is no cure. There has only ever been one solution ever offered that seems to work on my mental illness. Most people find the solution to be a farce. These people really believe mental illness to be a moral dilemma. They believe that it is about will power that I am able to be a useful member of society. As much as my ego would like to let me believe that I am truly that strong of a person, I humbly recognize that I am just not that powerful.

The only solution I have ever experienced that has arrested my mental despair is just so simple people don't believe me when I tell them unless they seek it for themselves. It is because there are those who believe and then there are those who experience. The only solution available for my particular mental defect is the Grace of God.

If God's Grace is the only solution, does that make the problem moral? or mental?

Is God's Grace a moral issue?

"Become willing to meet the challenge of taking responsibility for yourself."
~Language of Letting Go, Melanie Beattie

Willingness is not something I come by easy. Mostly, I don't want to do anything I don't want to do. I have been stuck in the mind of my two year old self for thirty-one years. Generally speaking, the way I become willing is through pain. When I first came through the threshold of pain, the pain was severe. A lot of people have died as a result of the pain I experienced in my life. I was lost, alone, drunk, felt completely separated from God and thoroughly hopeless. I was empty, void, numb, comfortable in my emotional, mental, physical and spiritual pain. And then, finally, when the pain was too great, I became willing. I can hear Dad saying "willing to do what?that doesn't make any sense to me". Willing to do whatever anyone told me to do to get out of the despair, bewilderment, terror and frustration.

I became willing to change.

Today, my pain threshold is not all that high. Mostly, people point things out to me and I am willing to try something different. Sometimes it takes a little insanity before I become willing to change, i.e. I try over and over again to believe that if I send signals to John, he will get the message but inevitably he is incapable of reading my mind and I have to tell him directly what I need or want. He just doesn't have that esp in him. Although time and time again, I think he does.

Responsibility is something people have always told me that I have. I have been babysitting since I was 12 and have yet to get away from it. Just last week I babysat a cat. I have a hard time thinking that I am responsible.

Part of becoming responsible for myself is finding out who I am. I had to find out what was true for me and what wasn't. What worked for me and what didn't. What was mine and what wasn't. I found my defects of character and ask God to remove them. I found my assets and use them to be of service to God and others. Once I know more about myself, I can own my actions. I can be responsible.

I take more responsibility for myself today than I did yesterday. Each day I make a new self discovery. I find I develop through prayer and meditation, through taking the time each day to talk and listen to God. This God-consciousness gives me the ability to be willing instead of having to suffer through pain. It is an easier, softer way. My actions are easier to take responsibility for because they are not so harmful as they once were. It's interesting how when I continually grasp onto the conscious contact with God, things in my life get better.

Butterflies and Birthdays

I have been making these butterflies all day. These are just a few. They are mostly glitter, paint and construction paper. They are not hard to make, just fairly time consuming. Butterflies have always symbolized metamorphosis to me. Having had a spiritual awakening that was without doubt life changing, I have come to find a small fixation with the butterfly. That whole process of change is ever present in my manner of living these days. I am making these particular butterflies for a women's retreat I am going on this weekend. There are sixteen women and we are supposed to bring something for each of them to put in their box. Don't know exactly what that means yet, but am looking forward to it just the same. I am on the broke side so I am making my something to go in the box. Since this is my butterfly month (I am 33 and I haven't taken a drink in 9 years) I decided to share. I will write scripture or inspirational poems or something warm and fuzzy about change on each one of them.

I can remember being touched when I was younger by an artists' rendering of doubting Thomas in a sand sculpture. I know that I have not just doubted my Lord, I have rejected Him. I was sitting in tonight listening to a few friends talk about making amends. To amend means to make it right. It doesn't mean I'm sorry. To make it right. I don't know if I can ever make it right for rejecting God. I do know that every morning and every night I embrace Him with prayers of gratitude, petition for me and others, of praise. I try my best through out my mundane day to hold His "hand" and thank Him when I see His presence. This is not the life I used to lead, but it is the life I lead today. It is a discipline that I have achieved as a result of a lot of pain and a little guidance. I can only imagine that as a caterpillar is wrapped inside that cocoon, at some point it becomes so uncomfortable that it has no choice but to break out and be a butterfly. That is my life in a nutshell, I was so uncomfortable, I had no choice but to be the butterfly God would have me be.

"What can you do today to stand together and believe with and for one another?"


Today I stand shoulder to shoulder with my friends, trusting in God, practicing spiritual principles. Today I pray. I pray for those who are sick and suffering, in great pain, those who are mentally ill, those who are in such need of God's grace that they know not what they do. Today I can love, give comfort, not judge, just listen. Today I can show someone what God's grace did for me and not just tell them what I think it can do for them. Today I can stand, hand in hand with others and have faith not just through my thoughts or words, but also in deeds. Today I am honest, openminded, faithful, courageous, have integrity, willingness and humility, have brotherly love, discipline and awareness of God and most importantly: I am of service to God and my fellows.

Grief is... undescribable.

Growing up my Dad used to say to me, "do what your told and don't give me any grief." I still don't really know what that means.

I do know that grief is a feeling like a twisted heart. It makes you cry, it makes you stay very, very still. It makes me want to scream and hit. It makes me hope

that if I just smile a little brighter,
make a better grade,
be a better leader,
stand strong in my self,


it will please just
go away.


Its having my insides just up and dump out on the floor when I least expect it.

Initially, I thought I was going to die it was so painful. That was eight months ago. These days it is a thought that just makes my eyes water with a painful smile that comes across my face in hopes that no one will notice or know of the reminder. I continue to experience things each day and there are days, not every day but some days, when I think she is not here to see this, hear this, know this, experience this with me. WHY did She Go?

Then there are other days that are the greatest day of my life. I work, laugh, play, love with no attachment to the past or the loss. I move on and she is not a part nor do I feel like she is supposed to be. I don't notice. There is no shadow, no tug, there is no wonder.

I know that one day it will just be a story. Something I can tell someone else and let them know that there is change, that life becomes okay again and that while relationships end I don't have to. I can keep going, keep playing, creating, loving and maybe share all of it with someone new.

And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of love's recovery.

I was working with a woman today on not drinking. It has overwhelmed me with the things that I remember when I share myself with someone else. On a daily basis, I forget the horror through which I survived until I share it with someone else who needs to know hope. She needed to know there was something worth working for and I know there is: I have lived it. I am living proof there is a miracle for all of us. I am a burning bush, on fire and not consumed. More importantly, I have the ability to give love to someone else today through sharing the debacles of my life and how I got through them.

Sometimes I don't remember in my drinking. Lots of missing information in my mind. I will sit here and think and think and think and try desperately to bring back an event I have been told about and there is just nothing. Nothing. I can't do anything about to hell I have raised and don't remember. Strangely, remembering nothing brings hope to her because she has periods of blackouts too. She knows that if I can not drink, she can not drink.

I can remember thinking that I was the only one who couldn't get themselves together. That I would be the one people referred to as a real drunk. I would be that drunk woman at the bar that night. I would be the only one who was unsuccessful, who vanished because of a drunk driving accident. I would be the one who people forgot.

I was in a storm all the time. I drank thinking it would stop that storm not knowing that was part of what was causing the storm. If I could just...not...drink...

Who knew?

There is a miniscule chance that I will never take a drink again for the rest of my life.

A slim chance. Here's to love's recovery.

I read a blog today that had a guest poster who was a journalist. His outlook on life seemed...bleak, at best. He was 28, single, well educated. His balloon of hope had been burst as a result of surviving his twenties. That fantasy that reality was a storybook was overwhelmed by the reality that has set in from the global issues he has entangled himself in as a result of...idk exactly.

I can remember coming to that realization that the world was full of it. I was angry, hostile, bitter, unable to complete a sentence without four letter words sometimes using them in the middle of words (except in front of my Mom for fear of abandonment). I was confused, overwhelmed, unsure of myself or my surroundings. Nothing made sense and the only thing I could see was others and their stuph. I couldn't see me. I didn't want to see me. No one else did either! for that matter!

I had to seek Love to find me. When I finally stumbled onto myself after a few years of uncovering, discovering and discarding, I had to go through a process to learn how to be me. It was strange. I continued to seek Love in my life. I found myself Loving those who are easy to love, those who everyone Loved. Then as I continued to practice being me, I found compassion for others with great capacity available within me. Then one day, I found that Love for me. It has only been recently that I have begun Loving myself. Loving me the way God would Love me. Whew, it is hard. I want to judge me, put me down, feel less than you, pity me, greater than you and arrogant with force. I want, I want, I want. But when I love me with God's Love. There is no defect of character, only perfection in imperfection.

Now I am sure you noticed that there is nothing about the world in my last paragraph. Because when I am focused on God and His Love, the rest of the world fades to grey.

I had a man who led a Disciple Now for my group when I was in 9th grade at Carla Dobbins house. He had a glass full of sand and several ping pong balls. When the sand is in the glass there is no way to get all the ping pong balls in the glass. We got two in the sand filled glass. When the ping pong balls go in the glass first, the sand fills in around them and meets the brim. The illustration has become paramount in my life today. When I put God first in my life, the world fills in the cracks, but is no longer dominant.

All those reality crushing heartbreaks the young man was going through just because he could only focus on the world and not God, it was a painful post for me to read. It reminded me of the hell I have been through and that I never want to go through again. Today, I have a choice: Seek God or be swallowed by the hell of despair. I choose to be a Seeker. I hope the young man Seeks Love too.

God Bless me, Bless me indeed, Bless me a lot,
Enlarge my territory
Lay Your hand upon me that I may not cause harm,
Guide me as I go throughout this day,
Thy will not mine, be done

I say this prayer every morning. I think I came up with it when the Jabez prayer became so popular. I am not sure it is the actual prayer of Jabez, but it is some form of it that I remember. Here lately, I have been in a place of a larger territory than I have known in a while, partially literally. And while the territory it expanding, I am not quite used to it and mostly just feel stretched out.

Growing pains?

All of it, for the first time in a long, long time is good growth. I have had so much growth that was to "overcome" the odds, that this kind of growth is unfamiliar. It is having friends who know me, but not so much and being able to love them for who they are and not for what they do. As a result, I have great relationships. It is being able to continue old relationships that I thought would never go on and on, yet they do. Then I come to find that they have changed and it is just okay. Change is not so scary after all. It is finding someone who has been there all this time, watching me, loving me and being the brother God had picked out for me and stumbling onto the relationship as though it were new and fresh despite knowing him for a decade. As I look inward on this relationship with this new/old brother, I realize I love him too. What a great feeling to have such a raw emotion, a vunerable place to be with another person who would have never been the one expected. It is growing back into the comfort of laughter with my husband again. Knowing that who we were surfaces despite poverty, absence, death defying acts of car dodging in the street and that we just love to be with each other in the midst of all of it, and we laugh. It is wondering if I will ever have time for all these people in my life while I am pursuing this path God has set in front of me? Large growth.

I am hoping that the territory that God has enlarged is actually a garden of my soul. That maybe just maybe I am growing some really cool flowers that only come up to bloom once a year and then others that are just plain Rae: blue hydrangeas. It kinda feels that way as I go from person to person. Some are hydrangeas others yellow roses, and still more are butterfly bushes or some strange wild orchid. Which are you?

I have been so busy lately it knocks the breath out of me when I take it all in. I know that I had a spring break from school, but there are so many other things that I am overwhelmed to think that I will do all this and school too next week. My daily routine has something booked for every hour of the day.

Today was a great day, today I had morning plans and evening plans but no plans in between. Just me and nothing and nobody. When my hubby got home from running errands he had gone off and bought me a new necklace. Woohoo! What a great Saturday gift! It is a hippy necklace with an amber center piece. I love it. He got it from the hippy folks at Sweetwater. Gotta love sweetwater. Definitely making a stop there tomorrow prior the break being officially over.

I think about those people who have those pda's and are all organized with their lives and wonder if I am ever going to be one of those people. Those people who have time to book their lives in a pda. I just go. I don't think or plan or any of that nonsense I just go.

My Monday starts early with prayer and meditation, goes to work out at school, go to class, go to work, go to coffee for asc, go to the farm to study for test, work on papers, close with prayers and go to bed. Go, Go, Go.

I remember being like this when I was 16 or so. I loved it. My life was full. My God was present. My happiness was great and there was no time to think or get in trouble. That is why I am so grateful for my go today. Going means growing means God means my life just keeps gettin better.

John and I have not seen a lot of each other lately despite being in the same 20x20 space. I have been sick. He has had finals (two A's in his classes, btw). I have had friends to help. He has friends to help. I am asleep before he ever even starts to get to bed. So Thursday and Friday, after work and school, we made time for each other. No one else, no other phone calls, just to catch up. After all, all we've done for weeks is sleep next to each other. Thursday we went out to a really nice dinner in Dahlonega. Friday we went to a movie. Normally we'd do this all in one night, but we did still have school and work.

The movie is what I wanted to talk about (surprise). We saw Watchmen. It has all maybe up and coming actors in it, all of whom I recognized but none of who I could name. The one I liked the most was the return of the badass kid from Bad News Bears who has been on drugs since that movie and is back. Finally. The film had been panned in all the reviews, but it was that or nothing so, whatever.

The Watchmen is a lengthy, disturbing piece fragmently done by the same director as 300. I thought it would be more computerized than it was, but mostly it was a dark graphic novel. The director left no room for imagination drawing out every detail including the sex scene which was just short of a porn scene. There was some amazing art that came out of the movie. Several scene that appeared drawn out of a comic, but apparently film. They will make for great posters on college kids walls. It is not one I would ever see again or even buy from the $5 bin.

The part that I liked, was the plot line. The concept that superhero's aren't so super. That they have human traits that are super sized. The main prescence was the Comedian. He was an ironic charater that created chaos, had no conscience, and nothing about him was all that funny. Everyone seemed to hate him actually. Then there was the Silk Stockings, the female superhero, who was a slut and a drunk. What a contraversy: superheroes with super character defects. How could they believe in a God? They were gods. It was like they were lost. Even more interesting they all aged. I don't know that WonderWoman has ever aged in my mind. I would assume that she is Wonderful forever, immortal. But the Watchmen are every bit humanized. The most interesting and greatest painter because he liked hacking on folks due to his cracked psychosis, was Rorschach. WOW. This guy had the best lines in the movie ie "you think I am locked in here with you, what you don't know is you are locked in here with me." He then proceeds to burning a guy with fryer grease shortly thereafter. He was the psycho of psycho. His irony was contained in his unrelenting loyalty to the saving of the human race. Crazy sob with a purpose. My kinda guy. The character development was tremendous by every actor. The sets being in a twisted 1985 (Nixon was still president) were very well done. The throwbacks to Dr. Strangelove were appreciated. The cracks at our own history were not really all that funny, but a nice touch. The costumes were on the mark down to the earrings.

I am still thinking about the movie and it is long gone. Maybe I will buy it in the $5 bin.

Okay, so this one took a long time fo rme to watch. I skipped over American Psycho because it is a bad movie and was about to skip Anne too because it is a long movie and then...and then, I got sick. Whenever I am sick for sure, PBS has Anne of Green Gables on tv. So I didn't ACTUally watch the movie I own, rather the tv, but whatever. I watched both Anne of Green Gables and Avonlea which I own both. Did I mention that I LOVE ANNE? Well I do. So this review is slightly useless because everything I think is that it is awesome and great and perfect for every little girl who has ever had an imagination, felt a little different and wants to overcome. Anne of Green Gables is the epitome of family movie. Unfortunately, it is 8 hours long. Anne of Avonlea is also amazing, but also 8 hours. So if you want to watch it from end to end, then you are talking 16 hours. The only time I am able to sit still for 16 hours these days is when I am sick. And I am sick. I was so glad it was on tv. Made me feel like I was at home with Mom.

This is where my West Wing obssession began, all with this movie. It is written by Aaron Sorkin, which makes it awesome. It is directed by Rob Reiner, making it a great romance. It has Michael Douglas, Annette Benning and Michael Fox, making it a great cast. This is one of those movies that I watch and always, always, always feel better after I've watched it. If you are looking for a good v-day movie (since it costs WAY too much to go out right now), this is it. If you have never seen this movie before and want to get all the jokes, you have to see it twice. Also, it helps (according to some g-friends) not to drink wine while trying to watch Aaron Sorkin's work. He has a tendency to go quickly and you need all your brains in order to participate.

This movie was much more viewer friendly after my last flick. It is a great romantic comedy. I highly recommend it. I think right now it is in the $13 bin at the Wally World. Totally worth the while. Watch it, love it.

I'm sure you can tell by the poster, this movie is not a family friendly piece. I can't remember how I found out about this film. I remember it being in a conversation with a friend, after it was out of theaters. I can't imagine seeing this film on the big screen. I am not sure it was something that even played in many theaters in the city because of its graphic nature and rigorous, brutal truths. The visuals in this film are beautifully disturbing. The plot line of the film is a rehabilitated skin head, Derek Vinyard (Edward Norton) trying to save his brother (Edward Furlong) from the crooked path of the hate and violence within the culture of the white power movement. There are two scenes in this movie that are poignant and artfully done, but unfortunately severe. One is of the racial murder Derek Vinyard (Norton) commits and the other of him being raped in prison.

Edward Norton should have won an Oscar for the performance. Norton projected enough anger that the audience could feel his seething hatred through the screen, his path to redemption is equally stirring, hopeful and real. The movie is shot in black in white to represent the past aligning Derek's character with old beliefs, motives, understandings and anger. The other half of the film is in color masterfully allowing the desperate nature of Derek to change flourish. While black and white film has it's limits, it is a perfect contrast for the white on everyone racial violence that occurs as result of Derek's brainwashed, deluded, powerful thinking. The color filming allows the audience some peace, and break the tension created with the association of the black and white anger and violence.

This movie is amazing. I would let every senior in America watch it and let it provoke exactly what it is meant to provoke: discussions on racial violence in cultures, in education, in criminal activism, government programs; discussions on hate and fear and the radical power it has over our daily lives; discussions about what true brotherhood is about, peer pressure, thinking for one's self, the consciousness instilled in us by our parents, the very being and nature with which we project ourselves to others. Unfortunately, it is graphic and excessively disturbing. I love this movie. I watch it every once in a while to remind me of who I am and who I can be in a blink of an instant if I let my anger get the better of me.

I recommend anyone see it, but know, you will be disturbed.

I have the day off today, so I thought I'd blog a bit. I have watched two more movies. One of which is new as in just bought as in now I am up to 155 movies. But let's stay in order shall we? I actually didn't watch Almost Famous, not because of any other reason than I think I have worn out my dvd! Almost Famous has a delightful story about a boy who wants to be a "rock journalist" and gets a gig to do just that. His perception of "the show" is eye opening, to say the least, in what it was like to be on a rock tour in the seventies. While the band is fiction the story is autobiographical in many ways of the director, Cameron Crowe's life. He at one point was a teenage, youthful man writing for Rolling Stone covering bands such as the Allman Brothers Band and the like. Creating a surreal environment of rock haunted by the "real world" laced with emotions of love, life and laughter, this film gives insight to the seventies, the life of rock n' roll and one's self journey and discovery. Kate Hudson wins my heart every time with her Golden Globe winning scene of Penny Lane (Kate's character) discovers the man she loves has traded her for $50 and a case of beer. When this clash of sincerity of purpose and stark realism occurs, Kate takes us through every emotion one girl can have and comes out on the other side with wit, casual laughter and charm. I watch this movie not just for the amazing acting and directing, but also for the music. I am a huge fan of seventies music (except Floyd--sorry John) and this movie is lined with it. It is one of the few movies that while could have been made into a music video as many movies have been, was appropriately moved forward through the plot by the music. Instead of John Williams, we have Lynard Skynard, Elton John, Simon and Garfunkel, the Who and many others. This movie is one that everyone should have seen in the theater, bought at the high dollar price of $21.99, rented until they just sold it to you, watch all the time. Thus the reason I couldn't go through with it again, as I have worn it out. I love this movie and don't even have to watch it to know it.

Now, as for American Beauty. This movie won 5 Academy Awards and I still don't get it. It is well filmed, well acted, haunting music. It has unbelievable imagery in it and stunning woven plot lines. All in all, it is a great movie. It is classified as a dark comedy, but I classify it as weird. There is nothing comedic about it and it has the strangest ending. I watch it because of a love for Kevin Spacey, Annette Benning and the actors loaded into the cast. I am always amazed at how odd of a movie it is. I don't watch it often and have never been tempted to buy it, but Walmart put out a $4 bin. So now they tempt me with not $5 bins, but $4 bins and what is a girl like me to do when a great movie is in a bin that is less than she would normally pay? I don't particularly like the movie, but if you can help me on what is it I am missing, I would appreciate it. This movie gets a great listing but only if you can get it for four bucks, because it is hard to understand.