Conversion

Under normal circumstances, I would probably put something like this on my Tarot blog, but since this is going to majorly affect my life, I decided to put it here. And besides, it's been a while since I posted anything at all.

If you're on my Facebook, you probably know what I'm talking about. If I haven't told you, I'm converting to Paganism. Why? Well, I was raised loosely Christian, and despite the fact that I really liked going to church and feeling like I was a part of something bigger than myself, I never really felt the connection to what I was being told. At first, I thought it was just the denomination of Christianity that didn't fit, but after going through a multitude of churches ranging from Baptist to a very liberal church that openly welcomed homosexuals (like my aunt, who introduced me to the church) to pray with them, I soon discovered that there was a bigger problem. But what could it be? I could feel the presence of a power higher than myself, and I felt someone listening when I spoke, so that could only be God, right?

Eventually, I broke away from the Christian community because, really, what was the point? Nobody believed the way I did, and I didn't want to feel pressured any more than I wanted to pressure them by talking about the differences in our beliefs. I've floated in limbo this way for a long time, until just recently.

The day after my 18th birthday, I finally decided to go get a deck of Tarot cards. I've always had a fascination with the unknown and believed that there was a mystical side of the world that was outside the realm of explanation. I myself have had deja vu since I was small, a cognition strong enough that I recognize every minute detail of a situation as it unfolds (including my thought processses, the way everyone moves, the way the wind blows, sounds, etc.) as if the moment in time had happened exactly the same way before. It's impossible to really explain and probably impossible to understand unless you've experienced it yourself.

I don't know what inspired me to buy a Tarot deck, but despite my feeling that there is something mystical about the world around me, the accuracy of the deck was enough to really shock the hell out of me. I worked a good 15 readings the first day, and all the questions I came up with were answered as if someone was speaking to me, and sure enough, they came true. It was an enlightening experience I'll never forget, even if I never took up another Tarot deck.

Anyway, this led me to do more research on Tarot, which led me to a youtube channel by Sayge Sorrel. She had quite a few really interesting vlog videos about her life as a new Pagan and her experiences as she became accustomed to it. Her views were so surprisingly similar to mine that I began looking into Paganism, and found information that was nearly identical to my beliefs, give or take a few details. I eagerly threw myself into finding out more, and this is what I've found:

Paganism is an envelope term, like "Christian." There are many different denominations (or traditions), the foremost being Wiccan. Although I do participate in Wiccan rituals, I don't like using the term because many posers my age like to pretend to be Wiccan "Witches" and I don't like to be associated with uneducated fools. Just sayin'.

Anyhow, there are many traditions and values associated with Paganism, which I'm looking into, but the basic belief is that the world around us is a blessed place, and we are all good so long as we make good choices. Everything in the universe is united and works together to create what is around us. Most Pagans worship a God and a Goddess, which I fully intend to do for one reason -- I believe in a power greater than myself. I don't believe this power is male or female, or that it is any number, including one. To worship that which I believe created us all, taking on the roles of God and Goddess to describe it simply takes the ideas I worship and separates them out in a way that allows me to better pray for something. If I was to pray openly to one diety, it would be a goddess, simply because I'm a woman and I feel more openly connected to a female power than a male one.

I don't know for certain if other Pagans view the God and Goddess the way I do. I'm still studying, but I feel comfortable with this religion. It's very relaxed and centered on every individual's views. Most Pagans support free exploration of your personal views, and many denominations are a mixture of religions (including some outside of Paganism) that match what they believe. There is no central government for their churches, and nobody points fingers at sinners.

Please forgive any statements that seem to be bashing Christians. I mean no ill will. I fully believe the diety known as God and my diety are one in the same. As Ghandi said, "Religions are different roads converging to the same point. What does it matter that we take a different road, so long as we reach the same goal. Wherein is the cause for quarreling?"

Blessed be! ♥

'Bowling For Soup' Had it Right

The title of this blog post refers to the song High School Never Ends by Bowling for Soup, but for me I guess it would be College Never Ends.

This isn't really interesting, but it's going to play an important role in my life, so I decided to blog about it anyway. I've decided that I'm going to get two Bachelor's degrees, a Master's, and go to law school. Insane, right? Probably, but I've been panicking at the thought of leaving the student world and joining the career world (I don't count my job at Target as a career). It's still quite a few years off, and I know exactly what I want to be, but lately my classes are flying by (literally...I just finished my first 2-week Sociology class) and I've been trying to figure out how to get where I want to be while weighing the risk/benefits.

See, primarily I want to be an author, but I don't want to count on it to pay the bills, so I decided to become a literary agent. To do that, I have to get a Bachelor's, Master's, go to law school, probably get some experience as a lawyer, move to NYC, find a job in this god-awful economy, make connections with people in the literary field quickly, find and recognize talented writers, work my butt off to get their work published, and then hope that it pays off (because I get a percentage of their earnings). You can probably see the risk with this career. Overall, my future wasn't looking so good.

Then, in my Sociology class last week, someone mentioned that they were going into social work. I don't know what happened, but I have been hung up on it ever since. I know it involves kids (which I hate) and a lot of work for very little money (even though I'm cheap and greedy) but I couldn't stop thinking about what I could do in that kind of position. I can help people (even if they aren't always grateful), I can make the transition easier for people who would otherwise be facing someone cold and emotionless who thinks little of them, and maybe I can do something important with my life.

So, here's my plan. I'm going to get my degree in social work (whatever that degree is) and start going into that while I get my English Literature degrees (Bachelor's and Master's) and start working toward law school. I'm going to try to publish the next book I finish, which means I'll be working with a lit agent and can check out what the job entails while I'm getting there, and in the end I might just end up in NYC with a job I enjoy that miraculously paid off, or anywhere I want to be, doing something important with my life (even if my paycheck is suffering for it).

It'll be crazy for the next dozen years or so, but for some weird reason, I'm looking forward to it.

Reality Check

Today was the first day of my spring classes, and I left early enough that I could get there in time to find a parking spot, walk a ways if I had to park in the boondocks, and find my class. I got there to see cones lining off the streets, men in reflective jackets, and a bunch of sports-loving idiots walking across the roads in front of cars where there isn't even a crosswalk.

I love that colleges take the random public more into consideration that the students that are keeping them open. We pay out thousands of dollars to them, we work our asses off and donate our time to them. Most of us have jobs on top of going to school full time. But none of this seems to matter the whoever puts together the events, because they decided to have an event and cordon off half of the largest parking lot on campus, the one right next to my class, for a bunch of flag-waving, painted morons, most of which never even GOT a college degree and probably intend to work for walmart for the rest of their lives.

I spent twenty minutes fighting through crowds of cars, idiots wearing MY university's colors, many of whom decided to walk down the middle of the lane without any consideration for the crowds of cars that they were holding up (who had classes to get to), and when I looked at my clock and realized I was five minutes late for class, completely lost, all the way across campus from where I needed to be, and still not able to find a parking space, I left.

I should mention that the class I missed was a math class, which is my worst subject, and the class is apparently half online, which confuses the hell out of me, and I probably won't ever figure out how that works because this was my first class of the semester. They generally don't go through the syllabus twice.

Blogger's Block

To put it bluntly, this month has been a boring blip in my life, filled with nothing but couch-potato-ing, work, and school (and more of that than anything else). None of that makes for interesting blog material, so I'm at a loss.

So instead of getting something cool, you get to read about my upcoming events! 18th b-day is a month from yesterday (and on a Sunday, eesh). I still have nothing planned. Will probably go 18-to-enter clubbing later in the week - If anyone wants to come, text, tweet, or msg me and I'll let you know what's going on <3.

Otherwise, not much to report; I don't even have any new excerpts *sob*! I'll get to work finding something cool and interesting on the web. Until then:

visit me,
(I've rejoined the obsessive community of myspacers)

tweet me,
(I haven't left the obsessive community of twitterers)

or click play:


Muse - Uprising

Braindead + Writer's Block = A Very Difficult Night

I've been working on Night Song for a few hours now, but I made the mistake of taking a break to eat dinner. Now I'm tired and don't feel like working anymore, and my writer's block is refusing to budge. Sadly, I know what I need to write, but I just can't bring myself to do it (I hate writing fillers, but they're a necessary evil).

Anyhow, I haven't really given any excerpts (except on GoodReads) so I thought I'd put a little here.

This is the first part I've written from Caleb's point of view. So far I've worked only with Anya, the main character (for more about Night Song and the entire Bishop Falls series, click here). The excerpt is from the beginning of chapter five, and I should warn you that it's very rough around the edges. I just wrote it today and haven't done more than read over it once.

Enjoy!



Night Song
Chapter Five Excerpt
(Read in PDF)
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Caleb's fists strangled the steering wheel until he heard the metal groan. Resisting the urge to turn around and go back to Anya, he pulled out onto the highway, refusing to look back at the Howard house.

What the hell was he doing?

When he'd seen the pickup, he should have done just what Anya said—keep driving and pretend he hadn't seen her. At the time, he'd told himself it could be Mrs. Howard needing help, but that had only been an excuse. The little old lady didn't fear them the way some of the people in town did—it was why he’d chosen to take Anya there when he’d found her on the beach—but she had no reason to come looking for them.

Anya did. He'd intentionally stayed clear of any place she might be, resisting his every urge to go see her. He'd even gone so far as to ignore the ocean's call. That had been a nearly physical pain.

Realizing his idol was still visible, he tucked the crystal back into the neck of his shirt. It must have fallen out while he was losing his mind. It had been a wake-up call to find her touching it—a reminder of why he'd chosen to avoid her in the first place. He wasn't like Trevor. He and Clara had made a vow never to involve outsiders in things they could never really understand.

And now he'd gone and done just that. What was worse, he'd involved Anya, the one even Trevor wanted to avoid. For her to be near them would be more than just a danger to her; it could cause serious problems for them if the police decided to intervene and found a connection between her and the Children.

He closed his eyes briefly. When she'd asked about the "Pendle Kids" he'd nearly had a heart attack. If she never found out, he could still sever ties with her. He'd been so relieved when she'd said she knew nothing that he'd almost took her in his arms right there.

The thought brought back the memory of her, her scent as sharp and clean as a summer breeze. He'd almost done something they both would regret, and she sure as hell hadn't been trying to stop him.

With a sigh, Caleb ran a hand back through his hair. She'd been soft and compliant, bold and demanding. It was an intoxicating mixture that had him breathing harder with the memory. Anya appeared fragile, with her blonde hair that was nearly white and pale-green eyes, but there was also a hidden strength in her.

Like the wind. She reminded him of a breeze that could be light and teasing if it chose, but could turn into a hurricane force at a whim.

Like Clare.

That stopped him dead. That was who Anya reminded him of. The two were so similar, and yet on opposite ends of the spectrum. And he'd made a promise to Clara.

He couldn't be involved with Anya anymore. It was wrong. He would have to do everything in his power to make her think he didn't care. Maybe he'd pretend he’d just been using her. That would be enough to make her hate him, wouldn't it?

Make Anya hate him? Caleb flinched as something inside him went cold.

It was too late for that. He couldn't bring himself to do it. It was selfish, but he wouldn't go back to avoiding her.

He was going to break his promise. The realization of what that meant left him adrift, alone. Clare was the only one who knew him—really knew him—and he was going to betray her for someone he'd met only a week ago.

Clare would understand. That was the worst part. Clare always understood, even if she didn't always agree. She would take his decision in passing and consider their promise null and void.

Caleb sighed again. He wouldn't tell her just yet. He'd focus on fixing the old pickup and decide what to do when that was out of the way. If he was lucky—or maybe unlucky—Anya would come to her senses or hear some rumor that sent her as far from him as possible.

Caleb pulled into the clearing and parked near the old, abandoned church. Whatever happened, he’d worry about it when the time came. In the meantime, he’d work on the problem at hand—making sure that monster of a pickup didn’t get Anya killed. With that thought in mind, Caleb flipped open his phone to call Trevor. He couldn't keep Anya at a distance, which meant he'd have to keep her close.

If for no other reason than to protect her from his demons.

Inspiration for a ROFL Moment

I absolutely adore Maureen of I'd Rather Be Blogging! Read this, and you will too!

"Aw, Shucks..."
by Maureen

I was reading my Yahoo mail the other day and came across an email that really made my day.

"I just love your blog!"

Aw, shucks, thanks.

"I've been a lurker for months, and this is the first time writing to you."

Well, that's always nice to hear.

"Keep up the great work; I really enjoy the chuckles you provide."

Gosh, you're making me blush now.



Wow, what a nice surprise. Who the heck was this from, anyway? I look at the signature.

All the best, Maureen

Cool! Another Maureen! It's not like that name is popular.

at I'd Rather Be Blogging.com

Oh, crap.


I was reading my SENT folder, not my INBOX.

....sigh....

Good News and Self Mutilation

To make a long story short, I found out I get to continue working after the season! I work for Target, which is my most favorite store in existence (it's clean, the people are friendly, and nobody who works there looks drugged...except maybe me) and I was lucky enough to get a job in an economy that sucks some massive stones.

Unfortunately, they weren't very smart when giving me a job that requires using a box cutter. Hence the self mutilation; my left thumb is missing a few pieces, and I about whacked my right index finger off today.

And that's all that's going on with me. More writing, and some getting ready for school (woo for two-week classes!) but otherwise pretty boring.

Just to end on a good note:





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Confessions

Do you frequently wake up fully dressed, reeking of coffee, with Post-it notes stuck to your face? Are you an information junkie, a detail fiend, or a wisdom addict? If so, you are probably suffering from being a writer; but don’t feel bad; I have it, too. In the interest of exploring the sphere of the person of letters, this column draws on articles, books and movies, writers real and fictional, and my own seriocomic writing adventures. With its finger ever on the verbal pulse, "Confessions of a Word Junkie" looks at the good, the bad and the ugly in the world of words.

- Caroline Hagood

I stumbled upon this, and I couldn't stop laughing - mostly because the comic aspects are far less fictional than you'd think (keyboard imprints...sticky notes - same difference). And then I delved deeper and found a gem. So, long story short, check out Confessions of a Word Junkie - it's a creative and amusing insight into the mysterious world of words and their lovers.

May I present ..

Decided to make a new personal blog. I usually use Wordpress, but the limited selection of templates has been getting to me, and I found this lovely purple number that I just couldn't resist.

On that note, welcome to my new blog!