Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Motherhood in a Nutshell

The absolutely most selfless thing you can do: become a mother.
Especially a stay at home one.

Here in the US - and other countries - people will look down on you for being lazy, for making the choice to be a stay at home mom.  If you work they'll be more sympathetic, but HA, it's so much harder to find a job because "you might get pregnant", heaven forbid you actually have kids.

People will say you're selfish.  That you've only had kids so they can take care of you later.  Let's see.  Let's go through an 'average' life (aka me pulling numbers out of my butt and using cliches and experiences I've known people to have.  This doesn't happen to everyone but it's happened to a good number of moms):
You have kid.  Baby lets you sleep, maximum, a couple of hours at a time.  If you work, you know you ain't getting enough sleep.  Even staying at home may be a struggle, what with cooking and cleaning - your spouse will expect it.  After all, you're at home.
Toddlerhood.  You can sleep the whole night through!  But your kid is everywhere.  Getting into everything.  They're getting in trouble, not to mention if you have pets you have to be watching them 24/7 because pets and kids don't mix - you never know what may go wrong.
Your kid goes to elementary school.  You clean when they're gone, but in the morning you have to make lunch, cook breakfast, get them dressed and on their way.  And if your kid doesn't like school?  Your job's ten times harder.  When they get home, you have to wipe away tears if that day was hard, encourage them to be understanding of others, and provide hugs.
Middle school.  That's hell for kids.  I don't know anyone who's actually liked middle school; it's been awful for EVERYONE.  And because your kids are going through hell, you have to go through hell to.  It's taking care of tears every day.  It's homework help.  It's frustration and calling teachers and having to sometimes literally drag your child out of bed in the morning.
High school.  Half of everyone likes it; the other half despises it.  You still have to make sure they're all ready, even if you don't have to dress them and make lunch and all that.  You still have to listen if they're upset.  Oh, yeah.  And you're going to be called the worst of names, cuss words and stuff they come up with their own.  Teenagers are extraordinarily clever at insults.  Plus "I hate you!" and your child will complain about being tired and hungry all the time and if you do anything but accept this and offer condolences your child will be pissed.
College!  You think you're free.  Ohhh, no.  Your child may be away or living at home with you, but either way you still have to take care of them.  If they're at home, you'll have to help them get ready for their classes by waking them up.  If they're away, you have to call them every day.  Sure, they may be over that teenaged angst, but expect hours of them complaining about something.  Expect "I miss you"s.  And during holidays they're going to come back and eat everything.  They were used to ten cent ramen and sometimes burnt toast; they will love the food you provide for them and compliment your cooking, constantly, but they will eat you out of house and home if given the chance to.
FINALLY they're out on their own, living life.  They still give you daily calls.  And marriage?  HA!  They'll be asking you for constant advice, the best ways to ask to get engaged, how to solve a fight.  "Mom, I need help with x" is your constant call to action.
Then grandkids.  You'll have to babysit them, and if you don't take care of them the same way your child does they'll lecture you and glare and be irritable.  Plus, they're still coming to you for advice.
Let's say you live to be 100, and around 80 you start to go a little senile.  The grandkids are growing up and getting kids of their own.  Your children may just pay to put you in a nursing home, and be upset that they have to use their own money to take care of you.  They may have you be with them and take care of you well.  That's still 20 years of care that's considerably easier than the 80 years you put into taking care of them.  Yes, it can get difficult - but even when they're supposed to be taking care of you they'll still come to you for advice, still talk to you.
And judging by my mother, even when you're dead they'll still want to talk to you.

Motherhood's selfish?  It's easy?  HA!  It's a full-time job, twelve AM to twelve AM, weekends and no vacations.  You have it for 18 years, maybe up to 25 years, of being super-difficult and then it gets easier --- but you're still working.  You grow to expect middle-of-the-night calls from drunken college students or the late-night fights with their spouse.  You don't get to quit.  Ever.  And your whole life you'll be doing this job, not to mention the possibility of other jobs if you work elsewhere.  Sure, it gets easier, but that doesn't mean it's not a lot of work.

Motherhood is hard and absolutely the most selfless thing you can do.  Quite frankly, I don't blame ANYONE for choosing to never have kids.  I do, however, get pissed off if someone's going to call motherhood 'easy'.
This?  This is the easiest motherhood gets, that right above.  Single moms?  Mothers who have children who have mental and/or physical issues?  HAHAHA GOOD LUCK.

...and I still want to be a mom.  Go figure *shrug*

Thursday, December 25, 2014



*Wacom Bamboo tablet + an additional Bamboo stylus ;D
*Fuzzy animal print animal slipper things
*Aloe-infused socks
*Owl dishes
*Owl salt and pepper shaker
*some Elf lip stuff
*2 little notebooks
*chalkboard/whiteboard eraser
*Chocolate orange, chocolate coins, caramels
*chalkboard pen & chalkboard eraser
*and the promise of some games I've been wanting

Squee =D

I also got my mom a 50$ necklace that she LOVES, and I got my dad a stylus for his phone (which was stolen -.-) and Qualcom (his job thing).



Wednesday, December 24, 2014



This from forever ago.  Still super freaking adorable.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

I'll be sharing my presents tomorrow ;D

Monday, December 15, 2014


There is a bit of magic in kindness.
Perhaps it is why I love December.
The smiles that people share.
The way someone pauses, stops.
The presents.  The selflessness.
Of one time
out of the year,
when people give.

We are not thanking,
we are not fighting,
we are doing.
We are helping and sharing and experiencing.

There is a bit of magic in kindness.
The warmth that spreads from person to person;
In every deed, at least two people
Feel the magic.
It can heal the sick.
A soul can be renewed.
A friendship can be formed.

Thank God I had the choice
And I chose to be kind.

Sociology Paper

I was in kindergarten.  I was telling my mother about a good friend of mine, a boy named Quincy that I enjoyed hanging out with.  She asked me what he looked like.  I described dark curly hair, cut close to his scalp and dark eyes.  My mom assumed he was white.  Imagine her surprise when she realized he was black.
Fifth grade is the transition period.  Before fifth grade everyone was the same to me.  Sure, I saw people’s skin colors, but I didn’t find it mattered - not nearly as much as eyes and hair and especially personality.  Now one of the first things I say about people is determine if they’re not-white.  And when they’re white I leave that aspect out.
Well, let me be clear - I do my absolute best to leave out skin color.  I will describe hair, eyes, the clothes they wore that day, their body type, everything except skin color.  I struggle and strain to push it to the back of my mind, to mimic the way I thought of the world beforehand.  To not be colorblind, but to not care because ultimately they’re people and that’s what matters.
I don’t remember what triggered the change.  I just remember one day it wasn’t important, and the next it was.  It was sudden, abrupt, probably triggered by an adult’s inconsiderate comment or something I’d read (I’ve always been an avid reader, both of books and online articles and stories).  I don’t remember the specific event.  But one day, lined up in front of the door, I looked at someone with darker skin than me - I believe he was from India, but I may be wrong.  His name started with an ‘H’ but I can’t really remember it - and thinking “he is different.”  This was a friend of mine.
It was sudden, startling, and something that let me put race on the sidelines.  I’ve struggled with recognizing race.  When I was younger - yes, in fifth grade - I thought my dad was Mexican because I’d never seen someone who was ethnically ‘white’ with as dark skin as he had; additionally, he’s COVERED in dark hair that makes it hard to pinpoint the actual color of his skin.
This, when I recognized his mother - my Gramma J - as being white.  I attribute it to how little race has played a role until sophomore year in my life.  Even in ninth grade I didn’t truly understand discrimination; it pissed me off like nothing else, but race didn’t matter to me.  Personality did.
The media, in my eyes, has always demeaned blacks.  Both subtly and not so subtly.  Mexicans, or maybe just those who spoke Spanish, as well.  But other minorities?  I find that they have smaller issues, less issues with stereotyping and the like.  It’s there, but certainly not as extreme as it could be.
A subtle way of demeaning blacks: Kanye West, in and of himself, with his inappropriate behavior and the way he treats his fans and other people.  He’s embarrassing, and his popularity - to me - speaks leaps and bounds of how blacks view themselves: as lesser, as socially deviant, as people who are not as worthy or deserving as someone else.
A not-so-subtle way of demeaning blacks: featuring a racist bigot on TV.
But  most of the modern-day racism is subtle.  It comes with comments that, to me, imply that blacks cannot defend themselves, that they are not able to look beyond the past.  And so on.  As race plays a bigger and bigger factor, I get angrier and angrier.
And further still are the things I don’t talk about.  The things that are me.  The fact that I have been discriminated against because I am white.  It is sad.  I have been told my problems don’t count and to butt out.  I have been called racist for saying “I’d rather not be called that” when people use the word ‘cracker’.  I have been told that I am unworthy of being with anyone but other whites.
Exhibit A: Someone in the halls yells “‘Sup N---a!” to their friend, and then, “Yo Cracka!” to me.  I say “Yo,” but am uncomfortable by the language and nicknames used.  “I don’t appreciate being called ‘cracker’,” I say, not wanting to approach the topic of the n-word since that’s a definite ‘racist’ comment.  He calls me racist and turns away, disgusted.
Example: I am telling someone of how I’d been excluded from a group on basis of the fact I’m white.  I tell them that this group doesn’t want anyone white in it, how it is an exclusive group based on race and even though I wanted to make friends with some of the people in it I was told to leave and go away.  “You’re too white to be here.”  The person snorts and says “That’s me every day.  You’re so self-righteous because you’re white.  That doesn’t count.  It’s not racism, it’s self-defense.”
Racism is racism, no matter the colors involved.  No matter what your skin tone is.  No matter what you look like.
The most interesting thing of all of this is that I have never felt like a majority.  I have felt like someone who is left out.  I’ve never had the distinct feeling of belonging outside of groups I host.  I feel left out of classes, conversations, partners.  Perhaps the only time I feel like I fit is at lunch, when I sit with good friends; at my recent party, when I invited several of my friend groups; when I am not alone and quiet and not appreciated or even wanted.  I have felt like a minority, but a majority?  Never.  Only like I’ve belonged, in groups that are few and far between.
Could I leave out mentions of race and ethnicity?  Possibly.  I wouldn’t miss anything.  The only thing that would be missing would be the fact that once upon a time I was blind to race, and I was blind for a long time, and race still doesn’t matter that much to me.
The worst thing, I think, is the stereotypes.  Nobody can escape them, no matter what group they identify with - mainstream, subculture, whatever ethnic groups...  I mean, heck, there’s stereotypes for everyone.  And the most horrible thing about stereotypes is that people fulfill them.  They see these stereotypes in movies and on TV, read about them in books and see them with celebrities.  Some stereotypes, like a close-knit black community, aren’t as bad as others.  But they’re there and it seems like nobody’s willing to change them.
Race has played little in my life.  I’ve always valued personality far above someone’s appearances.  But to deny that it hasn’t mattered at all is foolish.  Unfortunately, people are caught up on ethnicity.  And as long as they are, we can’t get rid of racism, both subtle and obvious.  Martin Luther King said, “I have a dream [where we are] not judged for the color of [our] skin, but for the content of [our] character.”  Character will never matter as long as race does.

Friday, December 12, 2014


it's another day -
the same, the same.
my mind's on repeat,
playing every memory.

some day i want to be
serenaded by the one i love;
some day i want to be
unrepentant of who i am.

i'm just a kid,
i'm only so small,
eighteen doesn't mean a thing,
it just means another day of being me.

i can cross my fingers,
i can make a wish,
but these pennies add up to cents,
and miracles don't come cheap.

some day i want to be
irrevocably in love;
some day i want to be
better than just simply me.

i can dream,
i have the time.
i'll add them up,
then change my mind.

i'm just a kid,
i'm only so small,
eighteen means nothing,
just the same old games we play.

i will make my wishes,
and add up to cents,
miracles don't come cheap,
but i can hope.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Thoughts of The Ick

it's this title because I feel icky.

but it's actually kind of beautiful.

also a good example of why astronomy, philosophy, sociology, and psychology are horrible things to take at the same time even if they make beautiful things.

so I'm just going to start of by saying:

we are made of stardust.

people say they are unimportant all the time and the best I can do is throw "I LOVE YOU" and "GOD HAS A PLAN FOR YOU" but man if you're an atheist that's like the lamest thing ever.  But now I can add "YOU ARE MADE OF STARDUST" to my repertoire.

Think about it, the night sky is so beautiful.  Stars may be made of hydrogen gas colliding together into helium but they still are beautiful.  They fight this fight against gravity for their whole lives, and then at their deaths they have so many possibilities.  I love the night sky; it's so jaw-droppingly beautiful, you get these millions of twinkling lights and I feel so small but I feel so small in a good way, in the way that 'I am here among these millions of mischances, among these billions of possibilties, and I am the possibility that exists!'

It's amazing.  And even more amazing is that all it is, is hydrogen and helium.  Burning balls of gas in the night sky and they look so amazing.  I mean farts aren't amazing.  They're stinky and horrible and you can't even see them.

But stars?  They're beautiful.  They are the source of life.  If an old star didn't explode into a beautiful supernova we would not be here today.  We exist because of stars.  We are, ultimately, stars waiting to be born; the imagery of a supernova is true because once upon a time we were one, and we can be that brilliantly beautiful again.

And even shooting stars, little balls of rock, they're beautiful.  Who doesn't love meteor showers?  And I mean, everyone takes a wish on them.  People wish on stars.

That is absolutely beautiful; that is amazing.  It's a little bit of hope for an hour, a day, and that hope can fall deep enough that someone does something to make their life better, to make all of our lives better.

We are stardust.  We eat stardust.  Everything that's iron and lighter than iron, all these elements, came from stars; all the heavier ones came from the explosions of stars.

It is beautiful and jaw-dropping and amazing.  Just take a moment and think about it.

So yeah.
You, reading this, right here, ignore every misconception you, me, or anyone else has of you.  You're beautiful.  I love you, because you're a human being.  God has a plan for you.
And we are the billionth lucky chance in the world, the right two people coming together to create us in a miracle, and we are made of stardust.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014


I have people who read my blog.  I know they do.
Some of them, like me, suffer from mental diseases.  Others do not.

And being the sort of person I am, who believe all solutions can be found through open communication, I wonder - have I talked enough about it?
I've put a million metaphors to the way I feel.  But still, in what I see - people either relate and understand or it does nothing to them.

Let me try again.

It is suffocation.
You are happy.  You are fine.  And then you drown, and you are drowning for no good reason, and you are clawing at ice but the air is gone and you are so cold and you are freezing and alone.  You see people, you even see people down under the ice with you, but you cannot reach out.
Success.  Someone breaks through.  It is not just someone yelling accomplishments.  They help you in a real way.  This is medication, this is therapy, this is a good true friend and not someone just telling you to "be happy" or put your faith in God.  This is someone who, perhaps, was there once.
You help, you reach, you stretch, desperate to break through to others.  But then you fall again, and you are suffocating.
Success.  You break through the ice.  You climb up to the surface by yourself, shaking and uncertain and confused.  You can't get out of the water but you can breathe, and that breathing allows you to stay strong and steady.
When you fall back under, you reach out.  You grab someone else's hand and together you pound at the ice.  Solidified by the same thoughts and worries.
Success.  You break through, together, treading water and able to breathe and no longer suffocating.  You do not let go until the ice forces you apart and back under.

It is a constant diving circle.  And sometimes when you fall away from the ice, when you can't keep going, your only option is escape.
Some people swim back to the surface, to keep pounding at the ice.  Others can't.  It is not a matter of "they will not" it is a matter of they are unable to.

I want to be happy, to let sadness come in brief and ordinary clumps since it must come.  I want to smile and laugh and stop wearing the damned mask I place on at least once a day.  I don't wear it all the time like I used to, and I've made amazing progress.

But under that ice, along with everyone suffering, is a monster.  And at any moment it can and will grab you and pull you down.

Jesus Christ can walk with you, but even God knows you have to fight your way to brief breaths of air.  I have no doubt He pushed me up several times.

But if tomorrow I commit suicide - I won't, I'm in a good place, just bear with me here - don't judge me.  Don't say I had a broken soul or something was wrong with me.  Don't tell me I was selfish or wasn't grateful enough.

I lost the battle with a monster.  Depression is cancer.  It can go into remission, but it's always there.  Waiting.  And one day it may take me.  It might not, but at the same time it could.
So next time someone turns to you and says "I'm depressed", don't tell them to be happy, to be grateful, to rely on their beliefs.
Hug them, and try and pull them out from underneath the ice.  Support is depression's chemotherapy.  And with support, more and more people will make their way out from under the ice.

But don't be surprised if I fall back in.  I do that, sometimes.  But it's been a while since I've fallen deeper than just under the ice.

...at any rate, I feel sick still, and I've been looking at the screen too long, so I'm going back to bed.

Monday, December 8, 2014

My Reply to the Person Who Blocked Me

On one of my websites I was talking about adopting from a shelter.  Someone was looking for a new puppy and wanted a breed they could get.  Someone else came on the thread, saying:
"I recommend going through a reputable breeder. I have a shelter dog and he's going to be my first and last rescue. It's best to go through a breeder so that you know the bloodline of the puppy and can meet it's parents and research it's ancestry.
I support shelters and what they do, but rescue isn't for everyone so explore your options. "

I of course, thought "oh is he having problems?" and said to him (or her, I don't know):
"*blinks* You're having issues with your doggy? =/ Adopting older dogs can be a bit of an issue because they've already been 'trained', but most animals can be successfully rehabilitated with a lot of love and care. And my pup, which I adopted at six months, never posed much of an issue for us. Actually the issue was on our side - we didn't train her well so she never really learned xD the lack of consistency was pro'lly stressful for the poor thing.
You honest-to-goodness don't need to know anything about an animal's heritage, though it's nice to know a bit about their nature. Most shelter workers, however, have spent time with these animals and know exactly how they act and if you'll be a good fit for them. And there's often "trial periods" you can go through to see if the dog/cat is right for you and your family.
I don't know, shelter doggies can definitely be wonderful and beautiful, but sometimes you're just not the right person to rescue them. There's a dog out there for everyone, and I promise you that another shelter dog would've worked out better if you really find this an issue."

their response:
"Knowing a dog's heritage is important actually. If you get any old mutt from a shelter, and aggression runs in it's lines, it can lead to a world of hurt. I know this from personal experience. I adopted my dog 7 and a half years ago when he was a puppy and he has issues out the wah-zoo and he recently attacked and injured my 6yr old niece. Shelters sugar-coat issues that their dogs have, and you can NEVER know a dog's true personality when in a shelter setting. They're more often then not scared and stressed out and not acting like they normally would.
My boy for example, he was a timid little sweetheart at the shelter and the moment i got him home, total chaos (he was trained, and is a lot more obedient and well adjusted now, but still is a danger for younger children and other dogs.)
Long story short, do your homework, ask many many MANY questions about the dog if you go through a shelter, ask to foster it or take it home for a trial run. If you go through a breeder (HIGHLY recommended if you plan to get a herding breed or a hound, and especially a husky!), ask to meet the parents and for the dog's pedigree. "

so I went with:
"Not particularly. Some breeds are certainly more aggressive than others but parentage doesn't factor into aggression. here has a buttload of info on aggression, as well as here.
I hate to say it, but YOU were doing something wrong if that's the case. It may be as something as stupid/silly as wrong scents or not being an "alpha", or being inconsistent about being the "alpha", but... it's you.
YES dogs can be aggressive, but it's so unbelievably easy to train out the aggression and avoid it.
Also: if you're allowing young children to be around ANY animal unmonitored, you're doing something wrong. You are ASKING for issues. Kids pull tails and yell and are noisy and sometimes intolerable - especially to animals.
So I do definitely agree with doing your research and going for a trial run, but at the end of the day if the dog's aggressive there's two possibilities: you're screwing up or the owner beforehand screwed up. And if you're not able to get rid of the aggressiveness... it's definitely you.
Sorry for sounding so rude/mean about it, but at the end of the day that's what it comes down to. Not only in my experience, but in the experience of my parents, my friends, other people I know of, professionals like Cesar Milan or veterinarians, people like shelter workers, etc."

they then decided to PM me with (cusswords starred out):
"I didn't want to continue to take over the New Puppy thread so I decided to PM you.
First, f*** you. You have no idea of my home life or what happened or even how my dog acts or his personality. That "be the alpha" bull*** that Caesar Milan spews is exactly that. Bull***. The man is a moron and should be banned from having contact with all animals for the rest of his miserable existence.
My niece wasn't around my dog unsupervised, my sister was in the room with my dog and my niece at the time and from what I gather, my sister ignored my warnings about making her kid leave the dog alone. I also need to add that my niece has grown up with 3 dogs, a Central Asian Shepherd mix, an American Pit Bull Terrier, and a American Bully. All considered "dangerous" breeds and therefore is extremely respectful and knows what to do and not to do when interacting with dogs.
My dog has been with me from puppy hood AND is trained to the absolute best of my abilities and has come leaps and bounds since coming home with me. His aggression stems from being in a shelter run with his brother attacking and taking command of the food bowl when they were fed (I know this as I volunteered there when he came in) and from trauma in his past. I have trained him away from aggression and he can now interact with other dogs and older (12yrs+ children without reacting negatively.
Before you start judging and spewing bull**** in the form of "facts", use your ****ing brain and THINK.

I respond:
Bull***, is it?
and this is just a couple of minutes of google, I could probably find more if I was looking.
Not to mention several other things I've read about training your dog to be better behaved. All about being in control as opposed to letting them do as they wish. I use "alpha" because "alpha"s are supposed to be in command. Dogs run as packs ergo there is a basic pack mindset - which includes plenty of attention and interaction as well as finding some sort of leader.
And Ceasar Milan's dogs, if you've ever seen them, are quite well behaved and clearly well adjusted so to want to "ban" him from contact from animals is quite moronic and ignorant of YOU.
And if your dog's come leaps and bounds then clearly the issue isn't you. But quite frankly animals always have reasons behind their actions, whether that reason is pain or territory or even "you smell wrong" doesn't mean there's not a reason.
Just because you disagree with someone else's methods doesn't mean they're stupid. If I implied that you were stupid let me stop here and apologize now. I do get very passionate about animals and if I find someone's being close-minded - which I thought you were, as I DO NOT KNOW YOU and ergo don't understand your life - I tend to get upset.
Obviously you're a very intelligent person.
And the fact that you accused me of not thinking is foolish. I've done my research and approached others about all kinds of animals, as well as the fact I've interacted with them a lot. Of all different kinds. But when I find animal behavioral issues 99% of the time it's the owner's problem, including with my own dog.
So excuse me for assuming that the pattern continued. I couldn't know everything so the fact you're getting so upset over someone's love for animals, albeit in a way that got carried away... okay I don't know where I was going with that sentence.
Anyways. Maybe you shouldn't assume people are automatically stupid if they disagree with you? =/ That kind of attitude causes wars on the scale of countries you know =/"

they say:
"Wanting Milan banned from contact with animals isn't ignorant or moronic, have you seen what that "professional" actually does to dogs? there are videos of him abusing and strangling dogs on line. "google it".
I've studied dog behavior and training for the past 6 years when my dog started to show negative behaviors so I do know for a fact that what Caesar Milan "preaches" about is BS. I didn't call it ALL bull****, but that man truly is an idiot.
There is no way to tell what set my dog off, my sister's brat said she stepped on his tail, but my sister said she was sitting, he'd met the kid several times before so it wasn't 'you smell wrong', or territory. I've man-handled him and messed with his ears and tail enough to where it doesn't bother him. I can use his tail as a handle to stop him from doing something.
I'm not getting upset over someone's love for animals, I'm getting pissed the hell off because some jackass had the nerve to judge me without knowing the truth behind the incident.

BTW, Cesar choking the dog.
watch that and tell me he still knows what he's doing. "

They banned me, but here's what I had typed up as a response:

Everyone judges everyone else.  That's a fact of life.  From what I know about animals, once again, 99% of the time it's a human's fault.  Of course I judged you.  That's normal.  However, that being said, I never assumed you were a bad person and I'm sorry if that was implied.  I simply assumed you were unawares of one facet of dealing with dogs and hoped to provide you with more information on that.  Then of course I got a bit ruder.  And once again, I apologize for that.  My intent was never to be rude.

The fact of the matter is I've seen so many happy shelter stories most of the time - most being over "half", mind you, so while I'm inclined to think it's GREATLY over half it may not be - that I tend to be harsher on other people who put down shelter dogs.  And again, I apologize.

So I'm not "some jackass" who "had the nerve" to judge you, I'm simply a human being who - like all humans do - judged another before knowing the whole story and wanted to share some knowledge I had in the hopes to make the world a better place.

...And thank you for the video.  While I'm declining from watching it in order to NOT set my day off to be a bad one, I'll definitely do more research into this in hopes to find out a happier, and better, truth."

before I finish it off, pretty much universal of agreement of researching into different breeds.  AND furthermore lots of thoughts about adopting from a shelter.  This person is in a minority, and I whole-heartedly think shelters are THE best way to a get a pup.
However, reputable breeders are also lovely (:

Anyway, I'm going to go give that person a gift if I haven't already through the site's gifting program and now that that's out there I can go move on with my life (:

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

God's Most Precious Gift


Poem 1: Dignity
they say:
they say:
human dignity
with such precision.
it cuts with a knife,
of course, crawling
over like spiders on your skin,
a confusing fuss,
a choking,
a strangling.

they write:
they write:
our dignity
with such union.
it changes, it swirls,
it adds instead of subtracts,
whispering like the wind through your heart,
beating a little bit,
a life.

I read:
I read:
universal dignity
no change between 'them' and 'us',
the different and the norm,
between what is normal and what is not,
the way somehow somewhere we went
so. damn. wrong.
carry us back,
a light,
a hope.

dignity is choice,
dignity is being able to choose,
to be proud, to start with life.
and damn it I would rather have a woman
choose to kill an unborn innocent
then be forced into a hell she doesn't want
(though damn it how can you make the decision
between two choices: life of the innocent,
sanity of the elder, how can you
possibly take a side when they both

dignity is respect,
and life,
and choice.
do not take away my dignity.
don't take away anyone's dignity.
stop before you go too far.
you've gone too far.
leave them, us, you,
leave the dignity.

Poem 2: Life
with petals, curling,
plucked by clumsy child hands,
collected into bowls of water,
before it can become heavy
crapabbles, never eaten.
beauty does die.

old soul.
wheelchair, wrinkled hands.
she struggles to read or write,
but there is pride and experience,
and she is ninety, a hundred,
remembering her children's names,
though sometimes she confuses the faces.
beauty doesn't die.

that can light up your life,
coming from a person who is,
who is not your definition,
but who is their own definition,
who is smiling, smiling,
and laughing, and funny, and loved -
and loving; you may never see it,
but I do, they do, we do.
love intertwines with life.

the mask taken from a face,
the wrinkles smoothed.
testing a smile he had forgotten,
but there it is again.
honest emotion he thought he'd forgotten,
but there it is again, he does not
have to hold back.
I dream, I dream, this could be
a possibility, the lack of judgement.
life intertwines with love.

The Non-Poem Portion
Dignity.  What is dignity?
The answer hit me like a bullet, a sudden sun from clouds.  The snow glittering in the dawn, free of footprints.  No more fog.
Dignity is choice.
To choose is to have dignity.  And if you take that choice away with poverty, with not allowing someone to get food, with preventing people from having work...
you have taken away dignity.
And how dare you take away dignity.  How dare you take away dignity from a child who cannot speak or an old woman who says "let the cold come" or the young woman who says "I'm scared and I'll die so let it happen sooner" or the middle aged man who says "damnit, I'm fighting this thing".
How dare you laugh and mock and judge when all people, every person, deserves dignity.

That's why I do not settle for pro-choice or pro-life because it's a choice on either side of the spectrum.  I cannot choose the baby over the mother or the mother over the baby because I refuse to take away anyone's dignity.  Let the option to steal away dignity lay on the mother's shoulders!  Let her feel guilty, but also let her live a wholesome life where her so-called friends are really her friends and do not judge her.  Dignity.

I will not take away anyone's dignity, and as long as I have a voice I will scream for everyone's dignity.  The right to choose.
Because every day there are girls stolen from home who loose every ounce of their dignity but then they regain it because there are people out there who care.
People lose dignity, and do not have dignity, but as long as there are people like me, or people like you - if you care, if you speak, if you try - dignity can be received and regained.

So I will take away nobody's dignity.  And in doing so, I retain my own.
I've made my choice.
Above all, I want to respect God's most precious gift, but I will never willingly or consciously choose to steal someone else's dignity.
And if you think it is alright to abort a child - born or unborn - because they are blind and cannot speak, because they are autistic, because you do not have the money, because you were foolish, because you are not ready, I will hang my head and cry.  I will not judge - not beyond the 'how could they make such a sad sad choice?  what goodness have we lost in this world?' - but I will mourn for the light we could have had.  And then let you keep your dignity.
Because what is God's most precious gift if it doesn't have its dignity?