There are some days in this life of mine that are just going to suck. Today was one of them. Now, yesterday was a bad day. I woke up with a headache and it steadily got worse as the day went on. It took two ibuprofen and two cups of Tension Tamer to even take the edge off. That was nothing compared to today. I pretty much spent all of today sniffling and crying quietly while going about my daily routine at the demonic playground I call my office. So far it's taken an hour of sock knitting on my lunch and an hour of hear and there hand spindling some merino/tencel to start to make me feel human again instead of like this dark creature with leathery black wings and snakes for hair. I'm not kidding, that place sucks all that is decent and good out of me. I start the day a happy, life loving gal and end it a monster with no goodness left in me and a desire to harm. Tonight my children and husband are watching the TATU at the air force base. They wanted me to go with them. I wanted to go with them. I just couldn't. I've spent the last hour getting my resume together and emailing people who I'd like to give me a reference should I need one. I have to leave that place. If I don't, there's no telling what will happen. I've been staying there out of loyalty and today that loyalty was betrayed. In a most cowardly and malicious way. I'm not a perfect christian, seriously I'm flying just above the fire, but I know when it's time to pray and that's what I've been doing all day and what I'll continue to do until such time as it is answered. Matthew 21:22 says it for me "And whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive."

My Mother and Me

My relationship with my mother is complicated. My mother is a good person. She's very creative and much what they call a 'free spirit'. But my mother is my mother. And being my mother she has a tendency to piss me off more than anyone else can, with the exception of my husband. We were not very close while I was growing up. I was more of a "daddy's girl" and my brother more of "mom's boy". I've always loved her, that's never been an issue. I was fiercely defensive of her when people just didn't 'get' her or her very independent nature. I just wasn't very close to her. I didn't understand her or why she was the way that she was. I never felt that we had anything in common and that I was more like my dad. Then circumstances changed and I found myself relying on my mom a whole lot. Over the last eight years, I've gotten to know my mother a lot better. Some through actual conversation with her and some through just being a mom myself. You see, I've come to understand that the way she behaved quite often was just her being a mom. Not just my mom but A mom. Sometimes moms just have to be moms. And through talking with my mom I've gotten to know her a little better. But she still does some stuff that just irritates the crap out of me. Like automatically assuming that if I'm talking about something in an excited manner then that means that I'll be persuing it. Take for instance the possibility of my taking horse riding lessons. I was very excited about this possibility and my mom was the first person I called seeing as how a) she's my mom and, b) she used to ride and show. Her response was one of immediate dissaproval. Not of the idea itself, but of the cost given my current financial status. I was in a hurry when I called her and also got a little irritated with her so I had to end the call rather abruptly. She, of course, took this to mean I was furious with her and not going to listen to a word she said. So then I talked with my husband about it. He said that though the money looked like it would be available, it really wouldn't be given other expenses I had neglected to remember. *facepalm* Ok, well so much for THAT idea. No go. Maybe after nursing school? He agreed. But it was too late, mom was already pissed and that meant a long time of her being pissed and many future conversations with it being brought up. Then, the un-returned phone calls, and the side comments from my father about how "you've really pissed off your mom. I don't know what you did, but she's awfully upset about something." I just can't win. She's cool with my knitting as long as I'm not buying yarn. She's cool with my buying random ridiculous stuff for the boys as long as it's not for me. I love my mother. God only knows how much I love my mother. But sometimes I just want to kill her. I know the feeling is mutual and though it hurts me to say it, I'm a lot more like my mother than I will ever be willing to admit.

What does your life say about you?

Have you ever thought about what your life says about you? What do your house, your car, the clothes you wear or the songs you sing say about you? Do you have one face that you show to the world and one that you show when it's only you? Are you afraid to show who you really are? Do you have the 'perfect' job/spouse/look, etc., and yet you still aren't really happy? Why is that? Well, there are many psychological theories that say as human beings we need acceptance from the herd. Those that don't fit in are stigmatized and essentially cut off from the rest. Or.....are they? Is it wrong, or even really that bad to be cut off from a society that doesn't want you if you don't want to be just like everybody else? Since the first tribes roamed our lands there have been 'outsiders'. It's just part of our nature. We get comfortable with a certain way of life and anyone who doesn't fit the mold of that way of life makes us uncomfortable. Take Jesus for example. He made the leaders of Israel very uncomfortable. Here was this guy, claiming to be the son of God, just rocking their world. He hung out with thieves, hooker, and (yikes!) the IRS guys. Oh. No. This guy MUST be bad news. Well. We all know how that turned out in the end. So....maybe being different in actually.......better? Now let's take a look at ourselves. Do you get your kicks out of stigmatizing the outsiders? Are you one of those people who see someone walk through the door and are instantly assessing them head to toe and making mental (and verbal) note of everything wrong with them? Do you wear a cantaloupe colored shirt with teal socks and have the audacity to comment on your co-worker's decision to wear candy-apple red pumps with a dark red shirt? And do you bother to look at yourself before commenting on another person's physique? Are you looking at them with brotherly love and a desire to help or just feeding the demons within? Isn't it easier to talk about someone else than it is to stop and take a good look at oneself? Here's a thought, why don't you find someone you normally wouldn't think you'd be friends with and make it a point to break down the wall between you. Find someone that you may have ostracized in school or someone who maybe wasn't in the honors classes you were in. Find them and change the world before it's too late. Only when we break down the walls that keep us apart can we truly become the people we are meant to be. Take a look at your life and answer me this: What does YOUR life say about you?

Mindbabble

Tomorrow I'll be uploading some of the pictures I scanned in today from my photo portfolio. This thursday after work I'll be doing my orientation at Rosewood to use their darkroom. My plans for my first visit is to enlarge some of the medium format Holga pics I took at Cox Arboretum last summer and also some of the infrared I took the same day. I have some really pretty proofs that are going to make awesome prints. I'm finishing the first sleeve on Noahs sweater tonight and I'm almost to the heel flap on the lime and violet Traveler's. I'm so bored with both of these projects but I'm fighting the Cast-Onitis. I already planning the next sweater I'm doing. It's the Sam's Delight sweater from Cabin Fever. It's for my nephew Jayden. He wants a blue and green sweater which is so perfect for his skin color. He has skin the color of caramel macchiato. I wuv him. He calls me Auntie Bicky. He's only two. Off to the wool!

It's over! Oh. My. God. I thought it was never going to end! I got a "B" on the research paper of doom, an "A" on the final in the the demon's class, I'm probably going to get "B"s in the other two classes too so that'll keep my GPA pretty close to what it currently is and that is good. Now I just need to get my application to the College of Nursing turned in and we are like the crunchwrap supreme... good to go. Oh incidently, I would have gotten a "A" on the research paper but the demon said that since there were no pictures to illustrate the courthouses I was discussing, he didn't feel validated in assigning an "A". Because (and I quote), "If there's anything you should have learned in my class it's that you can't talk about buildings without plenty of photographs." What-ever. Who cares. It's over! To celebrate this momentous occasion I bought three new books: Fitted Knits by Stephanie Japel (you know... Glampyre?), Family Knits by Debbie Bliss (omg I love this book, so many cute patterns!), and Natural Healing by Mark Evans. The one I'm most excited about it Natural Healing. I've always been into essential oils and aromatherapy but this book covers a LOT more. It covers Herbalism, Aromatherapy, Naturopathy, Homeopathy, Bodywork, Eastern approaches and lots more. This is one of the books I would want to have with me if I were ever to be thrust back in time through a circle of stones.(Did I mention btw, that I adore the Outlander series? I AM Claire Fraser!) Another would be my PDR on Herbs and Supplements and also my Essential Oils Handbook. Oh, and my Army Field surgery handbook and a suture set would be nice, ..... and a package of size 10 blades and various sized of catgut, and maybe one of those books about how to be self-sustaining (dude, for twenty bucks you can't NOT have one of these books. There are three different ones at B&N and they all pretty much cover the same stuff. We're talking everything form basic first aid to canning, to building your own home, to growing stuff to you name it , it's in there.) Anyway, I'm pretty pysched about all the time I've got now to knit and spin and, oh yes, LEARN TO RIDE AND TAKE OF HORSES!!!! As if it weren't magical enough (speaking of magic check out the latest issue of Faerie magazine it's got Candice Knight of Blackmore's Night on the cover in deep purple velvet and gorgeous gossamer wings!) I have a patient who is a horse trainer and I've spoken with her many times regarding my desire to learn how to ride and someday soon to purchase my first (of many) horse. We hit it off right from the start with her visit into the office (especially over a long discussion of 'slumber party syndrome' and the intricacies of raising three year old boys, which we both have) and she's never mentioned that she also trains people to ride the horses. That is until today. I was asking her about how much I could expect to pay for first-timer adult lessons and she said between sixty and eighty dollars. I was floored. Sixty to eighty dollars?! A week?! I was so depressed. There is no way on God's green earth that I can afford sixty dollars a week for lessons. Then she hands me her card and smiles, "Come see me. I'll train you and I'll provide all the gear and the horse. But if you continue with it, you'll have to eventually buy your own helmet." I asked how much. Thirty-five dollars. For private lessons! And she'll let me pay bi-weekly for my lessons.(I could pay weekly but I get paid bi-weekly so it's more convenient) She said she could do evening or weekend sessions since it would be just me and I could start whenever I wanted! I have to think about it but I've looked at the budget and with my working full hours again and not having to drive out to school all the time, the money is there for it! And if I go to her barn from either job it's only a fifteen minute drive! Do angels wear chaps and spurs or what! (Sorry Miss Violet, not that you read this, but I've always been a cowgirl, but I love you anyway!) Dude, I could be riding in two and a half weeks! Off to the wool!

Corona, Blood Red Sunsets, and Classical Guitar

Man, if I ever lose my sight the first thing I will do (after panicking) is to crack open a Corona Extra and fire up the iPod and hit my "Guitar" playlist. That's all I need to see the fiery Mexican sunsets streaking across the sky. A little Estaban and Armik and I'm good. And there is absolutely nothing like the sound of Flamenco to bring out the sexy in me. A few chords and I'm there. Dude, where is Antonio Banderas when you need him!