The Fifty Fourth Post, where a heart breaks

Today, something happened that I never thought would happen in my life.

A boy broke my heart.

I sat in the office and wept, and I’ve tried very hard not to cry in front of other people at this job. A)It’s not recommended to cry in front of the kids and B) when you’re not with the kids, you’re usually too exhausted to cry anymore.

But today, while talking to one of my co workers about this boy, I started weeping. Big fat tears of Anger, Sadness, and frustration. And it kind of took her aback, because it just… started. No warning. One minute we’re talking about SI time for him, the next I’m a blubbery mess.

Good times

You have to understand that i love this kid. He’s awesome. He’s determined, friendly, helpful, and always eager to please. He’s always asking if he can help you, He’s always wondering where missing people are, and he’s always got a smile on his face. And the QUESTIONS that comes out of this little man at times. He’s had me stumped a couple of places, and I look at him and go “Sorry dude… I can’t tell you.” The few times that’s happened, you watch as he just deflates, and it kills me.

Today we were doing a celebration for the parents. “Look how far we’ve come in 2 1/2 hours for nine months” kind of thing. My little buddies in the foster care system, but does have contact with biological parents. And he sat there the whole time before the event saying “My mom’s coming. My Mom’s coming to see me.” I was not given any indication that either parents would be coming, so I tried to bring him down a bit, but to no avail.

As we did the celebration, he pointed to every single parent there going “that’s my Mom, that’s my dad.”

No one was there to see him perform.

No one.

I get that his life is in total upheaval right now. I know that the Foster mom is trying everything she can to make sure that he’s happy, and he understands what’s going on… but there’s too much being promised, and never enough being given.

Every day with him breaks me a little bit, because all he wants is at least one thing in his life that makes sense.

I know he may never read this, but if I write it down maybe it’ll help me a bit, and maybe it’ll help me find a way to actually say it too him.

Buddy, no matter what you believe, no matter what someone tells you, you are important enough to care about.

I care about you. Trust me, I care about you. I will continue to fight for you, for as long as I can, and I will do everything in my power to give you even an inch of ground to stand on.

I would do everything I could to make sure you smiled. Not your little half-smile that is always on your face, but your full out body-is-shaking-with-happiness smile. I would make myself look like a buffoon for the rest of my life if it meant that you kept smiling.

Please don’t ever stop smiling.

No matter what they tell you, no matter what you think… You are not a Bad Boy. Sometimes we do things without thinking, even adults do it. It takes a lot of work to not do it sometimes, but it’s okay to make mistakes.

But you are

Not

A

Bad

Boy.

You are kind, and caring, and full of life. Everyone comments on how much you’re willing to help out, and everyone loves your laughter.

It’s okay to mess up every once in a while, as long as you keep trying.

Keep trying to be happy

Keep trying to be helpful

Keep trying to smile.

I care about you, and I will always care about you. And as long as I can, I will fight for you.

Don’t stop fighting, don’t ever stop fighting.

Allons-y

The Fifty Third, where we say “Hey God…”

I’ll take the wheel here. Wish me luck.”

WARNING: The following post discusses religious ideas, questions age-old ways, and really wants to start a discussion. Read at your own risk, you have been warned.

Growing up, I always heard “Give it up to God, let him show you the way to go.” That’s the world I live in, let God choose your way, let God show you where to walk and how to talk and what do to.

And then they turn around and tell us Free Will was the greatest gift God ever gave us.

Where did this start making sense?

Now remember, before you start spouting that religion never made sense, I have grown up with this. I have questioned it every day, and have answered my own questions. I have found where the truth is for me, and it works for me. This is simply the newest question I need to answer.

At what point did we decide that we were going to ignore this gift? At what point did we start asking God to just write the code for us so we could input the program? Wasn’t the point of Free will to give us the freedom to write our own code, to make our own mistakes and then look at God and go “oops… can I try again?” Wasn’t the point for us to be true children of God; exploring, discovering, questioning and coming up with our own answers? I thought it was given to us so we could truly find and test the boundaries of the worlds God created for us. I thought it was the greatest gift God could give us.

So why are we trying to return it?

I always felt weird asking God to take over and show me the way. A) I’m not that good at asking for help, and B) I want to do it my own way. God can help… but don’t do it for me. Don’t clear my path and remove my issues. I’m a big girl, i got myself into this mess, I have to find a way out.

In my world, God was always the one at the bottom the cliff saying “well… you’re not that stuck.”

But yet that was always the solution given to me “Let God show you your path, give up your troubles to God and be free.” Just close your eyes and wish it away and click your heels three times (this was one of my biggest problems with Wizard of Oz, but I will cover that another time). We decided to be sheep, in all ways possible. I know that this metaphor is present here and there in the bible, but I don’t think this is how God wanted it interpreted. I truly doubted God wanted us to become so afraid of risks in our life. I truly doubt God wanted us to toe the line and walk quietly through the door. Like that one quote said “Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming — WOW– What a Ride”. We are meant to experience the Universe God created. We are meant to experience it, test it, break it, fiddle with it, live in it, and enjoy every inch of it.

How can we do that if we refuse to take the risk and pay for it later? How can we do that if we are always passing the reins off to God? God has infinite Universes to run, so we’re going to get a really watered down version if we don’t take matters into our own hands.

Was it the thought of Hell that stopped us? Was it the fear of Damnation that makes us toe lines and strive for perfection and rules? Have we become the children that believe any little mistake will cause the Parent to shun us and forever ignore us?

If that’s the case, there are about Forty thousand books out there that talk about this kind of relationship and how to ‘fix’ it. Everybody to the Libraries, now!

It was stated that the only things that would truly turn us away from God was if we did not love our Neighbors like we love ourselves (or gave it our best in that area), and if we were aware of God and that presence, and still said “I will not accept you.”

That’s it… that’s all. So we’re allowed to question the parents, we’re allowed to push boundaries. It’s how we learn, it’s how we survive, it’s how were evolve. As long as we still love and respect our parents at the end of the day, and strive to end World Suck, we’re forgiven for the mess ups, praised for our imagination and bravery, and ushered into the house for a well deserved rest.

We are children to God, and we need to act like Children. We need to push, ask, question, break, fiddle, learn, explore.

We need to live.

So here’s to Free Will

Allons-y

The Fifty Second Post, and she’s baaaccckkk

hopefully. Honestly, there a multitudes of reasons for me being completely AWOL for the last… month? (checks last post… yep, almost a month… FAIL!!!)

But none of them really stack up that much. I love doing this, I get ideas after ideas on what to write about… and then I never do a bloody thing. I want to sit and write. I imagine taking sick days so that I can just blog all day. I take notebooks with me everywhere so I can write ideas down.

I am in love with this.

And that is my downfall.

I am a pessimistic optimist. So everything i start is stopped by a negative… I believe I have covered this some times here and there, so I will not endlessly repeat myself here.

I have been keeping with the original point of the blog, which was to be doing new things. So far I have spent one whole week longboarding for at least an hour (still can’t powerslide, this is unfortunate), Started drinking more water instead of pop, Slurpees, and juice. I started to grow my own garden. Actually, I had to deweed, dig out, rototill, and then fill in a small plot in front of my house. Hopefully this weekend I can plant my herbs and veggies. Carrot, Onions, Garlic, Thyme, Oregano, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary… maybe something else if I can fit it.

I have been busy… I just haven’t been writing. I haven’t even been on the computer much. Last week I completely smashed my week goal of being in the computer for only an hour a day. I think I spent two hours in the whole week. Why? Because I was doing a puzzle and it was occupying the spot where the computer usually goes… and I was far too lazy and dis interested to set the computer up somewhere else.

Yep, that is as good as that excuse gets… and that’s my best one.

So now that the countdown has begun, and whatever after school/work commitments there were are starting to die down, I can get back into the want of writing here every day. Taking half an hour at least and getting a piece up. I can’t come up with the excuse that there’s nothing to write about. I find tonnes of things every day, and this is going to be my life soon… I can’t use that excuse really.

So let’s get down too it. Lets get to the writing, and the changing, and basically trying to uphold the Nerdfighteria creed “Don’t Forget to be Awesome.”

I recently was cleaning my room, and I came across a scrap of paper with my Grade Ten ‘motto’ (the thing I repeated to myself over and over again to remind myself that there should be a purpose to my life): Be spontaneous when you can, conform when you have too, and make sure something explodes every day.

I want to start living by that again.

So here’s to decreasing world suck, here’s to explosions, and here’s to realizing that if you love it… just do it.

I’m back guys… I’m back.

Allons-y

The Fifty First post, where right overpowers…?

HAH!!! Take THAT WordPress. Your glitchiness failed to hold me back this time.

WHAZAA!!!

Yeah… I keep getting the message lately that I am who I am, but this is not my blog, and I’m not allowed to access the sight or anything. Frustration at it’s finest. Hopefully we have no problems with posting this. And I swear Mother nature, if you unleash a thunderstorm while I am writing this and crash my computer….

It will be on, like Donkey Kong.

Now, on to what I was actually wanting to say for the last little while.

Can you be spontaneously reserved? Did that make sense?

Here… let me try it in Tarot terms. Can you be the Fool and The Reversed Wheel at the same time? Can you be leaping out at the slightest whim, but a split second later… refuse to move?

This seems to be me, as I look back on the last couple of years. A common underlying factor that seems to drive this flux is thinking too much, and then not really thinking at all. Trying to rationalize out every SINGLE detail, or not really planning and just deciding to go.

The best example of this is when I decided to go to South Korea before my Grad Ten year. It started as harmless talk between my Aunt and my mother at the time, who were fantasizing a bit. My knowledge of Korea is that it looked like a picture from my copy of “The Velveteen rabbit”, was divided in half (I have no idea why), and they adored to pickle their cabbage and then make it so hot I would weep in pain from it.

But hey, let’s go to South Korea, whatever. I worked my weekends away for one whole year so that I could afford to go. My food and basics were paid for. But I bought my own plane ticket and any extra expenses. For one whole year, that was the focus. Raise money to get to South Korea. I did no research or anything like that, I was very trusting that my Aunt would teach me everything I had to know, and everything else would be by complete osmosis. Before I knew it, I was standing in my Aunts kitchen, half a world away from my family, and the only continent I had ever known.

I had no planning for home sickness, I had no idea what it would feel like to suddenly realize that I cannot just turn around and head straight back home and be there in time for supper.

I cried for about twenty minutes in the shower that first day.

You see, the logical part of the brain had collected this information, and had analysed it and stored it and prepared for it. But a lack of communication between the left and the right, caused my right side to face all this information when it was too late.

You are very far away, and anything could happen to you, and your mother and father will not be there for you.

Bit of a shock. But, I survived, and I loved it. And to this day, I miss South Korea with a large part of my heart. I leaped without looking, and I loved it.

Another one, when there was no communication, or rationalization, or contemplating, was Cadets. 2137 CALGARY HIGHLANDER CADETS, WHOOHAA!!! I saw a picture in the newspaper about it… not even an article, a picture with a couple of sentences underneath. A couple of days later, I went to orientation. And I spent an amazing year with them. One of my biggest regrets was leaving for stupid, stupid reasons. That’s a whole other blogpost, trust me, but I hate the reason I left.

Alternative High School was kind of like this also. I wanted to get the hell out of the place I was at then, and Alti was the first thing that came up. I only did research my parents were hesitant in letting me go. But there was no “What are the positives and negatives, what is it going to be like here, what is going to be different?”

The mind set was “Get me the hell out of here, now”, and again, it turned into one of those experiences where I would never regret it. Alti was one of the greatest things that ever happened to me.

There have been other times when it is all left brain. Where I over think it, making it impossible to keep going. Smaller thing in my life seem to be affected by this. I need to sit and read the instruction so I know exactly how to cook a hot dog. There are times when I need to have every single book about a topic so that I know everything about it before I do it.

There are times when I will sit there and over analyze every single little detail, and it freezes me.

Sometimes this lack of communication between the two sides of my brain work for my advantage. Things that would have made my logical piece go “ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???” were done because the logical piece was unable to state their point until later. Sometimes I get stuck on something, and the right brain doesn’t get to make me leap into a pit of snakes. At the same time though, I’ve had things where the logical piece really should have spoken up. Sometimes I decide to do things that are no where near beneficial.

Sometimes we need the balance… and sometimes we just need to let one side go nuts.

As you will learn from the note below… I no longer remember what this was supposed to be about. So I think the above line is what my origional point was going to be.

I need to find balance… but I want to still be able to just go without thinking. So what do you pick; left, right, or balance?

Guess it’s a neverending quest.

Allons-y

PS: I started writing this on the 30th…. WordPress kicked me off again when I lost my internet connection. I have not been able to get on since.  Alti and under were written today. if anyone can help me out, please leave a comment. And sorry for the post.

The Fiftieth post

As I write this… I have 2,000 views, sixty one blog followers, ninety four comments, and this blog has been read in at least twenty two different countries.

Those facts blow my mind. What started a just something for me to try and finish has turned into something that I absolutely love. I love the comments I get, I love the thought of someone I’ll never meet taking time to read my stuff, I love the thought that people have decided what I say is worth coming back for!

I would love to meet every single one of the people that have read this and give them a cookie. I would love to give everyone who has ever commented a hug…. I can’t actually do that, so pics and fandoms will have to take my place for the moment

Seriously, jokes aside, the fact that I have gotten this far is because of those little facts.

The little ones that show me that good things will come if I keep working on this.

Good things will come to those who wait kind of thing.

Because I did this. I decided that I was going to do this in my free time, and I was going to try and make a difference in my life, and I have stuck with it. I have forced myself, bribed myself, and enjoyed myself. I have made this happen. I have gotten to the big 5-0. And hey, if I’ve gotten to fifty… why not one hundred? And if I can get to one hundred, why not five hundred? And if i can get to Five hundred, why not one thousand? And if I can get to one thousand, why not keep doing this until I have no faults, no wants, and no needs left?

Hah, see what I did there?

But I want to now ask something big. Really, really big…. Actually, it’s a lot of really small things, but they add up to bigness. Here goes?

Who are you? How did you get here? Why did you stay? Where are you from? What is your favorite post? What do you want to see more of? What do you think I need to work on? What’s your favorite TV show/Book/ Movie? What do you think one of my challenges should be? What do you think I should try?

What do you want out of this? Because this has now become just as much your place as mine. And because of that, I want to get to know you guys. Blogs are about community, and I want that experience. I want to facilitate the conversation, make people think, get people talking.

So grab some carbonated drinks, a bunch of cushions, some food, and lets have a party.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. You guys are amazing, and I can’t wait to keep doing this with you.

Allons-y Alonso

The Forty Ninth post, and I voted

Well, I recently was able to take part in the ritual of deciding who you wish to put your trust in to speak for you in the Government.

I have grown up in a world where you don’t vote for who you like, you vote for the lesser of the evils. I’ve grown up in a world where even youngsters will look at the promises made and go “Yeah… sure”. I have grown up in a world where people have decided that the gift of voting that has been given to us is not worth it.

This upsets me to no end what so ever. I am working with a number of ladies at my work who believe it’s a waste to vote. But I have just graduated from a school where we were given the power to vote about issues in the school. And if the issue was important enough, there could be no abstention. I have ties with the military, and I feel that saying “Voting is a waste of time” is insulting to the countless who have died to give us this gift, who have died defending this gift, who have died spreading this gift.

I understand now. I get why people would think it’s a waste of time. No one will tell you the truth, no promises will truly be kept, and no one actually cares about you the voter.

But crossing your arms and refusing to do anything is not going to fix it. If you took the time to organize a voting blackout to prove your point, that would help, and I would support that. But the people who say “I have better things to do than waste my time with that” are not fixing the problem.

The only thing more insulting to me are the people who assume the majority of non voters are my generation. The lazy, freeloading youth that are too busy texting to even think about politics.

What do you think we’re texting and messaging about? It could be the riots in Egypt so that they can achieve Democracy. It could be the riots in London. It could be the Occupy movements.

I admit, we are a generation that would rather focus on that than our own province sometimes. But the province is so… small compared to what we’re used too. Why worry about the same old here when the world is changing over there? Hey though, we still took the time to pull ourselves out of the big picture to vote. I have yet to meet one of my generation peers who did not vote in this election. Yet a large group of the older generations have made up that Apathy area.

I don’t want us to think we’re the Apathy generation, I don’t want us to become the Apathy generation. We have more information at our fingertips than our parents could have even dreamed of when they were our ages. So let us be the generation that starts to weed apathy out. Sometimes it’s fine to sit on the sidelines. I didn’t vote for Senate, because I didn’t learn about it until I was at the voting station. I abstained because I could not make a decision that would have been what I actually believed it. That’s okay in my opinion. But the people who are aware of what’s going on, and decide that it’s not worth their time… those are the ones that need to really think about this. There are people dying for this right, this gift… is it truly a waste of time?

Don’t cross your arms and pout. Don’t bury your heads in the sand and then complain when something happens that you don’t like. Don’t pretend like it doesn’t affect you?

This is your gift, it is your right.

Don’t waste it.

Allons-y

The Forty Eighth post, and lack of Muse

My apologies to you. All of you, and especially those souls who have tried to check up on my the last week or so.

My Brain is trying to become 100% involved in this. I fight a loosing battle against it.

I have not been able to actually sit down and write. I was able to hammer myself into getting more of my novel done, which was an immense relief. But i cannot seem to sit down and actually write here. That makes me sad, because there is so much I want to say.

…but when I get here, I stop

and stay silent.

A reference to one of my favorite slam poems. ONE of my favorite. I have actually ammased quite a collection of them recently. My favorite is actaully a good friend of mine who introduced me to Slam Poetry. the ones that got me truly hooked are here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfXttfaQ5us, and I have the video downloaded so that I can watch/listen to it daily. Andre, I know i will inform you later on that I did this, but I want you to know that you’re an insane inspiration to me. I have tried desperately to keep with the Slam poetry writing because of you. It usually feels like a burning plane, but hey, that’s still pretty cool… when it’s fake and there’s actaully nothing/no-one to be injured in the process.

The Burning plane metaphor is something I use a lot. I think it’s just one of those social things I actually got, and have decided to use it to death simply because it’s one of the few in my repertoire. But there are many I don’t understand, like “Lucked out”. Apparently it’s a good thing if you lucked out, but in my mind, it’s a BAD thing to be out of luck. That translates to lucked out in my head… but not for many of my friends.

I find this happens a lot to me. Obviously the social translator never downloaded properly all the way in my head, and this glitch continuously pops up in my life, giving me enough grief to get frustrated, but not enough to truly show. I’m quirky, but now weird, as stated by one of my friends. I thought it would be solved when I grew up, since as a youngster, I was able to have very engaging conversations with adults. I then assumed that all my conversations would be like this when I was an adult. But this social situation apparently is only available for the quirky kid↔curious adult program. Now that I am working with adults and expected to act like an adult, we have a new program looking like this: Adult↔Adult.

My own programming doesn’t quite compute with this. I’m having troubles adapting files so that they can be shared with these new systems. Such is life -.-

Where was this post supposed to go??? I don’t know anymore. As you can see, I am well and truly lost right now. Where is my Muse.

OI!!! You, c’mere, now. DON’T gimme that look, and don’t you dare put that cancer stick in your mouth. I’m having trouble enough breathing as it is. Well suck it up, I am not inhaling any of that junk. Here, have some Spitz, that should keep you happy.

Yes, right now my Muse looks very similar to Lisbeth Salander. I just watched the first American movie, and I fell in love with it. DO NOT SPOIL IT FOR ME!!! Your life will be forfeit. I am planning to read the books after my Game of Thrones kick… or maybe with my Game of Thrones kick.

Wipe that look off your face -.- I’m here, I’m ready, now will you give me something to work with? Even if it’s just a kernel? What was that one idea you gave me, when I was trying to keep one kid from thumping the other? Or when i was in that meeting with the class therapists? Or that really good one you threw at me when I had two kids going into crisis?

Your timing is amazing, you know that right?

Is the sarcasm dripping off the screen yet?

I believe this post has been a wast of 700+ words. Ah well. PLEASE stay around though. I have something awesome planned for the Fiftieth post. A sort of party. There will be Fez hats, gosling juggling, Jaffa Jokes, and so much more. If you can name those three references, I will reward you with cookies and goodies on the fiftieth post.

NOW!!! Come with me *Grabs Muse by collar* if you give me at least one little idea tonight to work on, I will let you smoke half a cigarette.

Allons-y

The Forty Seventh post, and a tribute to Her

Do not forget me

For I am weary

And cannot cry out much more

On the bottom of the ocean floor

 

There are lessons still to be learned

Stories still to be found

In the skeletons of my hull

In the depths down below

 

Yet the sea is waiting

Straining to claim

What is left to learn

What is left to say

 

Give the burial that will come

Hide me in the mountains that form

Let my body and those inside

Close our eyes and rest

 

But not before

The stories are heard

The lessons are learned

And the voices can be silent

 

The voices that reside

Within my watered halls

Whispering and wailing

Wandering with calls

 

To love and to life

To treasures lost

To debts unpaid

To justice withheld

 

Do not forget me

For I am weary

And cannot cry out much more

On the bottom of the ocean floor

 

-

artwork done by Daryl Toh Liem Zhan, known also as takeru-san on DeviantArt. Picture links to DA profile.

The Forty Sixth post, and I hate sick days

It’s true. I probably am one of the weirdest teens out there, but I hate sick days.

This post comes up due to the fact that I was completely floored by an infection in my mouth that got way out of hand. Monday evening was hell, Tuesday was Hell, Wednesday I was so doped up on pain killers that I would randomly start giggling.

OI!!! BEFORE ANY OF YOU GO “That’s you anyway” THIS WAS WORSE… sort of… maybe.

But I hate sick days, because I sit at the house and do nothing. I should be working, I should be doing something. But instead, I sit on the couch and try desperately to get some of the synapses firing while I stare at a moving screen.

I wasn’t always like this. I liked sick days at school, and at all my other jobs. But at this job, I went over four months before I had to take a sick day. My Manager informed me that she could not remember the last time someone went that long without one. I have become the Queen of herbal remidies and over the counters to keep myself going. Pressure points, naps at lunch, whatever I can do to keep going.

I hate sick days. They mess up my week, they mess up my team, and they mess up the records for my kids, because goals are not being worked on, and parents are not being informed of what went on today -good and bad… mostly good. So now i have to sit at work, try and get my goals completed for today, get caught up on meetings I’ve missed, and make up for duties that have been passed along. I also have to get all my notes written to parents in two days. I’m technincally supposed to be writting three times a week.

Not happening this week, as you can see.

I hate sick days. Nothing gets done, and I just get left behind.

-.- stupid teeth.

I will see you guys tomorrow, barring any unnatural events.

Allons-y

The Forty Fifth post, where I make Nellie proud

“Never retract, never explain,never apologize - get the thing done and let them howl”- Nellie McClung

There was a song with those lyrics at one of my old schools. And the lyrics floored me as a kid. Never Apologize. How crazy would that be. To feel so assured in what you do, that you never apologize for something.

Saying sorry is a knee jerk reaction for me. It’s not that I say it just to get things off my back. Every time I say it, I always mean it. If it’s someone else’s fault, I say sorry. If it’s nobodies fault, I say sorry. If I don’t know whose fault it is, or I am unsure on how to proceed with the situation, I say sorry.

It has started to infuriate people I’m close with, which is the opposite reaction I’m looking for. When I say it, I’m trying to smooth over the relationship, fix the problem, and bring everything back to mellow. I like mellow, I understand mellow. There is no sudden backlash if everything is mellow, which makes my slogged travels through social interactions much easier.

But I guess it’s getting a little out of hand.

So Mrs. Nellie, this challenge is for you. For one week, I cannot say the word sorry. I can say “I apologies” or “I apologize” or any other substitute I can find, but I can’t say sorry. That’ll make me have to think about it, and that’ll make me have to think if it’s worth it.

Hopefully this works.

Sor-

Allons-y