My parents are coming over today with my grandparents furniture. I'm very excited about it! I prepared my carpets yesterday with a professional cleaning. They look wondrous! This living room set was the one I admired as a child, in part because we were not allowed to go in there. It was my grandparents formal living room. We may have been in there twice my whole life for a family function. Amongst the excitement at having a treasured piece from my grandparents, there is a small reminder of sadness. The reason I am obtaining this is due to my grandparents impending death, to be perfectly blunt. They have been put in a nursing home(a decision I still disagree on) some time ago. Since that time, their health and mental acuity has quickly went downhill. No wonder might I say since they have been together and in their own beautiful home for over 50 years.
Imagine this, as it appears my family cannot: A young woman and man of a much older generation, than this one, finding one another in love. Against many obstacles and hardships they find stability in their lives with one another through the decades. Everyday it is that other person beside you in the bed. It is your partner for life that you have come to learn, respect and love unconditionally. Then you add a home to the mix. A place where your children are raised. Even when they are gone their children come back to replace the echoes of merriment. My grandparents home was the mecca of kindness, generosity and security. You could always count on my grandmother offering us Frito Lays and a soda as soon as we came in from running all over their grounds. The tractor rides my grandfather, even when not feeling the best, would offer to us every time. I always knew the cows didn't really need feeding, every time we came...he did that for us, my sister and I.
Now picture all that gone in a matter of weeks. Imagine trying to fathom that the person and home you had built your life with, wanted to grow old with, would no longer be there in your last days. Personally, it breaks my heart to no end. The point of us finding that someone, that constant seeking, is so that our lives will be shared with someone til the end. What a travesty that is has been cut short!
My family doesn't understand the quick degradation of my grandparents health. They keep looking to doctors for the answers; putting them both through tests and medicinal trials to no satisfaction. I'm curious why it is only me that sees the answer so clearly: They are brokenhearted! Plain and simple, they no longer wish to live a life they haven't chosen. I will miss them dearly and forever be saddened at the disappointing end of it all but I will not weep for their passing. I would not want to live a life devoid of my lifetime of choices, possessions and most of all the love of my life around me; That is not living, existing is no choice!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Pedigree'd Personalities?
I have a quick thought...(Psyche--as if I am ever quick) that I'd like to offer to the great nonethingness. Should one pay for an animal, that is to be a pet? Isn't a pet something to be loved for its personality, not it's pedigree? I don't know a lot of people that are these pedigree snobs so I'm very curious after hearing one of my co-workers brag about the cost of her dog. A dog, that she keeps crated in her home over 75% of the time to hear her speak. Have our pets become another extension to prove who we are in society?
Thursday, May 26, 2011
My Glass House
My writing has been attacked...again! It has stalled my fingers from writing these past several days! A few people of whom I am intimately acquainted describe my blog as negative, bitter and basically dismal(that one was my word). They are accusing me of not representing myself correctly here, as I am in life. I must correct that, one is, the other is quick to say that at the core of me, I am bitter and that comes through in my writing. Let me be explicit for the record, I was even informed that the reason I didn't have more followers was due to this..."who would want to read such negative things?" I don't know how to set this aside and move on, truthfully. That people whom know me can't understand this, my passion, my place to release all monsters in my head, troubles me to no end. I could confess to how this pains me intimately. I could go on and on, detailing how wrong I believe them to be but rather...I write the chaos down, out of my heart and soul, allowing me to breathe easier. Removing this "negativity" releases me from the happiness I find once removed from inside. Here is the place that I built for redemption, salvation, cathartic exhalation...whether you are watching or not my absentee followers...whether you are agreeing or not my ever-loving friends. I bring the hurt here!
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Rapture101
The end of the world is today. For those of you that haven't been preparing all along I have decided to impart you with a top ten list:
- Flip through the bible and find the parts of it that say, we are not to know the time of our death/end of the world/rapture and use permanent red ink to strike through those words obviously imprinted by(cue:mysterious music) ....THE Devil!
- Take stock of all your department store credit cards and begin the shopping spree at each.
- Participate in the funding of massive roadside billboards announcing the end of times because that always gets their attention.
- Stay naked so making it easier for the rapture spotlight to find you and lift you to the heavens. Plus, do you really want to ruin that brand new Gucci skirt?
- As Judgement day begins at 6pm, I recommend that you stop driving at least 2 hours before such time.
- Call in sick to work, no matter what shift you are working.
- Don't forget to cancel your newspaper subscriptions. Just because you will be safe, do not make it any harder for the heathens left behind.
- Harold Camping, the genius christian on high who has the inside track on all things God doesn't know exactly how it will all begin so just in case it is the Zombie Apocalypse instead, get a good supply of lumber to board up all your windows and some deer urine(zombies hate that smell)
- Since there are many different time zones you must be prepared for some spotty cell service at least 8 hours before the coming of Jdawg. I recommend making your farewell, cya in heaven or good luck with the tribulations, well before then.
- And the number one thing you must prepare for before the rapture is...Empty all bodily functions before the light finds you; wipe well. You might experience some anxiety and nausea on the ride up. No one is in the mood for that kind of mess.
Good luck my fellow Human beings. Its been real!
Friday, May 20, 2011
Societal Beauty
Turns out our standards of beauty might be wrong, gasp! Allow my lovely co-workers to be the guinea pigs for which these results stem from.
Case study 1. There is a young girl who tans herself, via this tube machine thingy...wait for it...EVERYDAY! After working a twelve hour shift, she goes to a tiny little whole in the wall place to sit in a suffocating capsule full of glass tubes to expose herself, voluntarily, to UV rays. All of this in the name of, beauty? Who was it and when did we decide that tanning is the standard of beauty? Oh wait, it is not just her that believes this. After she has especially soaked up enough and the results resonating in her oh so brown skin she receives all kinds of envious comments and compliments. This, my friends is a healthcare professional too. Umm, did someone forget to read the medical journal that states, as a fact, that tanning is not only dangerous to your skin but accelerates the aging process? Lets let that one fact go and try another route. She's white! We are white! Why is she trying to be another color? Isn't that some form of self hate? Can I dare to call it racism? haha Honestly, though if you think about it, there is a huge percentage of Caucasians(look at me, being PC) that are indeed, racist. I bet they don't think about it when they are trying to tan themselves, in essence attempting to look like the race that is more predominantly ostracized.
Case study 2. My one and only male co-worker is a 6'something giant of a man/boy. He weighs himself everyday. I promise you if you look at him you would want to feed him. He is this long stick of a vessel, yet here he is obsessed with his weight being lower. He announced to us yesterday that he had reached maximum capacity at a weight, I won't disclose(just in case one of them read this), that makes him physically and emotionally unhealthy. That is when he gave the standards our medical professionals live and breath by, siting him overweight by over nearly 100 pounds. My goodness I can tell you a scarecrow would have more meat on his stature if this were to happen. I was devastated and shocked at the inability to allow for self-esteem, personal preference...common sense! Turns out these standards were put in place during WWI, as a friend researched for me. How ridiculous is that alone? We are allowing an outdated source dictate current standards of not only beauty but taking into consideration physical fitness. Our lives were different then. Automobiles were less visible and we still used those two things called feet outside in the wild, rather than at the gym. Thats not even allowing for the genetic markers that are not factored into these unrealistic goals. Personally, throw in a little dash of pharmaceutical and health beauty industries and you gots you a full on case of peer pressure, governmental/industrial conspiracies coming together to sucker you into doing what they say, rather than relying upon ourselves. You know...that crazy notion that we are in control of our own lives, free and no longer slaves to anything or anyone.
Case study 3. We are nurses, if you didn't already know. One of my co-workers doesn't leave her house without makeup. I work nightshift quite a bit and even then you will see the vibrant colors poisoning her skin. She puts on so much face paint that I guarantee I would not recognize her without it; she might not be able to either. How sad is that? The point of make up is to enrich your face, your skin, not to cover it up, transform it and inevitably ruin it. Now, do not get me wrong, I enjoy a good lipstick. You might even find my eyes lined with some crayon, enhancing my otherwise, no nonsense eyes, on occasion! That said, you will never find the idea of my own facial featurs in such hate that I strive to erase them. Barbara Streisand said it best in a movie titled, "A Mirror has two faces" when her sister is trying to convince her to put make up on. She said,"Why it would still be me, just me in color" I love that line! Let it stand as the conclusion to my argument.
I don't know that I need to say anymore...but I will. I cannot believe we have allowed our society, the majority of these groups in power to dictate what we decide to do with our own bodies. We, for the most part, are rational, intelligent people that are more than capable of listening to our bodies , in order to find that perfect balance.
Case study 1. There is a young girl who tans herself, via this tube machine thingy...wait for it...EVERYDAY! After working a twelve hour shift, she goes to a tiny little whole in the wall place to sit in a suffocating capsule full of glass tubes to expose herself, voluntarily, to UV rays. All of this in the name of, beauty? Who was it and when did we decide that tanning is the standard of beauty? Oh wait, it is not just her that believes this. After she has especially soaked up enough and the results resonating in her oh so brown skin she receives all kinds of envious comments and compliments. This, my friends is a healthcare professional too. Umm, did someone forget to read the medical journal that states, as a fact, that tanning is not only dangerous to your skin but accelerates the aging process? Lets let that one fact go and try another route. She's white! We are white! Why is she trying to be another color? Isn't that some form of self hate? Can I dare to call it racism? haha Honestly, though if you think about it, there is a huge percentage of Caucasians(look at me, being PC) that are indeed, racist. I bet they don't think about it when they are trying to tan themselves, in essence attempting to look like the race that is more predominantly ostracized.
Case study 2. My one and only male co-worker is a 6'something giant of a man/boy. He weighs himself everyday. I promise you if you look at him you would want to feed him. He is this long stick of a vessel, yet here he is obsessed with his weight being lower. He announced to us yesterday that he had reached maximum capacity at a weight, I won't disclose(just in case one of them read this), that makes him physically and emotionally unhealthy. That is when he gave the standards our medical professionals live and breath by, siting him overweight by over nearly 100 pounds. My goodness I can tell you a scarecrow would have more meat on his stature if this were to happen. I was devastated and shocked at the inability to allow for self-esteem, personal preference...common sense! Turns out these standards were put in place during WWI, as a friend researched for me. How ridiculous is that alone? We are allowing an outdated source dictate current standards of not only beauty but taking into consideration physical fitness. Our lives were different then. Automobiles were less visible and we still used those two things called feet outside in the wild, rather than at the gym. Thats not even allowing for the genetic markers that are not factored into these unrealistic goals. Personally, throw in a little dash of pharmaceutical and health beauty industries and you gots you a full on case of peer pressure, governmental/industrial conspiracies coming together to sucker you into doing what they say, rather than relying upon ourselves. You know...that crazy notion that we are in control of our own lives, free and no longer slaves to anything or anyone.
Case study 3. We are nurses, if you didn't already know. One of my co-workers doesn't leave her house without makeup. I work nightshift quite a bit and even then you will see the vibrant colors poisoning her skin. She puts on so much face paint that I guarantee I would not recognize her without it; she might not be able to either. How sad is that? The point of make up is to enrich your face, your skin, not to cover it up, transform it and inevitably ruin it. Now, do not get me wrong, I enjoy a good lipstick. You might even find my eyes lined with some crayon, enhancing my otherwise, no nonsense eyes, on occasion! That said, you will never find the idea of my own facial featurs in such hate that I strive to erase them. Barbara Streisand said it best in a movie titled, "A Mirror has two faces" when her sister is trying to convince her to put make up on. She said,"Why it would still be me, just me in color" I love that line! Let it stand as the conclusion to my argument.
I don't know that I need to say anymore...but I will. I cannot believe we have allowed our society, the majority of these groups in power to dictate what we decide to do with our own bodies. We, for the most part, are rational, intelligent people that are more than capable of listening to our bodies , in order to find that perfect balance.
I'm Happy
I'm supposed to write a happy blog. I've started this process quite a few times with no result to speak of, except this constipation of ideas. I could give the standard line(that is real): I'm happy for my life, blah; I'm grateful for what I have yak. Oooo, and lets not forget my favorite one: it could be worse. All of that would be the false vomit to appease those that don't understand...yep, I'm going to say it..prepare your gag response....those of you that cannot appreciate a poet's soul. Bon Jovi said it long ago, "like the poet's need the pain". Who are we to argue with the greatness of Mr.Jovi, I dare you.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
I'm a Vampire
Before Stephanie Meyers made them glitter...before Anne Rice brought Tom Cruise and Brad Pit to the darkest depths...even since LA. Banks raised them to the ranks of urban coolness I was a vampire connoisseur. Bram Stoker told the initial tale that caught my eye so long ago. From there I wanted the truth, the historical facts(still in question) of the vampire tales. As we all know there was little romantic about Vlad the Impaler. He was a horrific monster of a man that created the romantic fiction of today. Yet, here I am, still announcing to the world that I, Catherine Ballinger, have a vampire fetish (ew, No, not sexual or...hmm, whats a bite or two?).
I love the darkness. It is in the cloak of night that I am energized. I see the stars and the moon and am transfixed with the glory of it all. Daytime seems so full of ...normal, boring, scheduled, obligatory nothingness. In the early morning hours, before the sun, the world shows it's secrets. I walk among the blue tones of quiet, listening for the truth of our lives. Shh, just listen and you'll hear....
I'm just joking or...am I? I am beginning a new vampire series titled, The Dark Brotherhood this week. I'm pretty excited to step back in this magical world that embraces me with its darkness, equally as it does the light.
I love the darkness. It is in the cloak of night that I am energized. I see the stars and the moon and am transfixed with the glory of it all. Daytime seems so full of ...normal, boring, scheduled, obligatory nothingness. In the early morning hours, before the sun, the world shows it's secrets. I walk among the blue tones of quiet, listening for the truth of our lives. Shh, just listen and you'll hear....
I'm just joking or...am I? I am beginning a new vampire series titled, The Dark Brotherhood this week. I'm pretty excited to step back in this magical world that embraces me with its darkness, equally as it does the light.
Prayer to Me
"Courage is not the absence of fear but taking action in the face of it"
I'm not a risk-taker. Almost every conversation I have ever had, has been played out in my mind well before it reaches my lips. Any path I choose has been carefully mapped out to overt any missteps. In other words, I live in my head more often than not. There, it is a chaotic place full of lists, warnings, fears, and memories of all the words before. Upon my desk, proof of this exists with balled up pieces of paper containing my pros and cons inventory. You'll find sticky notes everywhere with tiny messages, directing myself to do a certain task, not to be derailed by the whimsical other half.
Yes, you read that correctly; I am aware of the hypocrisy. At odds with my cowardice is this living, breathing, death-defying rebel that longs to release the shackles. Every now and then I allow her breath. It is those moments when the real me is set free and I soar with the freedom of it. A smile begins, it crawls up from inside, reaches my eyes and conforms my face into something only the devil himself could resist. When I allow the fear and memories of such to ease, my soul emanates with the love I want all to feel.
See...me...I'm aware that I was born for greatness. I have felt it since I was a child; the weight of my life. I know that God gave me this life to transform my world and all those that exist in it. In small ways, in those moments when I allow the real me to live, I believe I impact this life, as I'm supposed to. Now if only I could live there. How do I forget the shadows of fear and pain? Those obstacles placed in my life to overcome and deserve this bright life that await me by our creator. How can anyone doubt that He exists? I feel Him in my life, guiding me, begging me to release myself; letting me know that He is there, when I'm ready.
With that in mind, that faith, ever present in my heart, I know I'll get there. One day, I'll become the creature of light and love that is only glimpsed now. Every now and then you'll see her, the real me but don't blink,or you'll only see this me, this ever struggling soul, wrestling with her demons.
I'm not a risk-taker. Almost every conversation I have ever had, has been played out in my mind well before it reaches my lips. Any path I choose has been carefully mapped out to overt any missteps. In other words, I live in my head more often than not. There, it is a chaotic place full of lists, warnings, fears, and memories of all the words before. Upon my desk, proof of this exists with balled up pieces of paper containing my pros and cons inventory. You'll find sticky notes everywhere with tiny messages, directing myself to do a certain task, not to be derailed by the whimsical other half.
Yes, you read that correctly; I am aware of the hypocrisy. At odds with my cowardice is this living, breathing, death-defying rebel that longs to release the shackles. Every now and then I allow her breath. It is those moments when the real me is set free and I soar with the freedom of it. A smile begins, it crawls up from inside, reaches my eyes and conforms my face into something only the devil himself could resist. When I allow the fear and memories of such to ease, my soul emanates with the love I want all to feel.
See...me...I'm aware that I was born for greatness. I have felt it since I was a child; the weight of my life. I know that God gave me this life to transform my world and all those that exist in it. In small ways, in those moments when I allow the real me to live, I believe I impact this life, as I'm supposed to. Now if only I could live there. How do I forget the shadows of fear and pain? Those obstacles placed in my life to overcome and deserve this bright life that await me by our creator. How can anyone doubt that He exists? I feel Him in my life, guiding me, begging me to release myself; letting me know that He is there, when I'm ready.
With that in mind, that faith, ever present in my heart, I know I'll get there. One day, I'll become the creature of light and love that is only glimpsed now. Every now and then you'll see her, the real me but don't blink,or you'll only see this me, this ever struggling soul, wrestling with her demons.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
FB hater: take 101
Yep another Facebook hate-filled blog. It really is the pure proof of our degrading society. I have yet to find the percentile that I exist in, being an anti-FBer but I have to believe that I'm not alone in the realization that this is killing us, as a people. It's said that we are getting dumber with each generation; with that fact in mind, lets be clear that Facebook is the vehicle to that demise currently.
Did you know that collectively, Facebook's users spend, wait for it... 700 billion minutes per month on the site, according to company stats? Assuming the site has 500 million active users, that works out to 23 hours and 20 minutes per person a month ,on average, sites CNN tech blog, Netiquette. By that math, the average user is logging a little more than 45 minutes on Facebook a day. That is a lot of time dedicated to voyeurism.
Yep, I said it! Facebook is merely the voyeuristic need to keep up with the Jones's. Truthfully, this need is nothing modern; Zuckerman has just offered us a less conspicuous way to go about this dysfunctional mandate to be involved in other people's lives to such an unhealthy degree. Imagine taking this amount of time to look inward...is that really such a phenomenal idea? Self-introspection. Instead we all rush to our computers,smart phones, ipads, laptops everytime someone posts any inane scribbling. How and why would it impact my life in anyway to know that friend x(PS, are normally not truly a friend) now owns a ipad2. Oh yes, let me be specific...an Ipad2, not one, so in your face, you can hear if our ability to infer hasn't been completely eradicated yet.
I can't use the term voyeur without mentioning FB's, ever so private and careful (note: Sarcasm, please) picture posting policy that are made available to all Facebook users. All one needs to do is post a picture to a few people and before you know it, it has been tagged amongst your peers and then some. This is the latest form of torture made available to teens today. Trust me it is being fully abused. My niece was very recently a victim. She had suggestive pictures posted on facebook, without her permission by an ex boyfriend. Yes, she found out quickly after and had them blocked, etc but that did NOT get rid of them, merely no one could see them on her page anymore. As is true for most of the world wide web at large, is doubly the case with FB...once the info/pics are out there, it can never be destroyed. Might I add that if, God forbid, there were someone actually monitoring this website, maybe then, an individual's right could be honored. Just a thought.
I'm done...for now. Basically, and yet again...Facebook is the devil! Laugh if you must to ease your own discomfort at perpetuating this plague upon mankind...laugh indeed. Mwhahhaha
Did you know that collectively, Facebook's users spend, wait for it... 700 billion minutes per month on the site, according to company stats? Assuming the site has 500 million active users, that works out to 23 hours and 20 minutes per person a month ,on average, sites CNN tech blog, Netiquette. By that math, the average user is logging a little more than 45 minutes on Facebook a day. That is a lot of time dedicated to voyeurism.
Yep, I said it! Facebook is merely the voyeuristic need to keep up with the Jones's. Truthfully, this need is nothing modern; Zuckerman has just offered us a less conspicuous way to go about this dysfunctional mandate to be involved in other people's lives to such an unhealthy degree. Imagine taking this amount of time to look inward...is that really such a phenomenal idea? Self-introspection. Instead we all rush to our computers,smart phones, ipads, laptops everytime someone posts any inane scribbling. How and why would it impact my life in anyway to know that friend x(PS, are normally not truly a friend) now owns a ipad2. Oh yes, let me be specific...an Ipad2, not one, so in your face, you can hear if our ability to infer hasn't been completely eradicated yet.
I can't use the term voyeur without mentioning FB's, ever so private and careful (note: Sarcasm, please) picture posting policy that are made available to all Facebook users. All one needs to do is post a picture to a few people and before you know it, it has been tagged amongst your peers and then some. This is the latest form of torture made available to teens today. Trust me it is being fully abused. My niece was very recently a victim. She had suggestive pictures posted on facebook, without her permission by an ex boyfriend. Yes, she found out quickly after and had them blocked, etc but that did NOT get rid of them, merely no one could see them on her page anymore. As is true for most of the world wide web at large, is doubly the case with FB...once the info/pics are out there, it can never be destroyed. Might I add that if, God forbid, there were someone actually monitoring this website, maybe then, an individual's right could be honored. Just a thought.
I'm done...for now. Basically, and yet again...Facebook is the devil! Laugh if you must to ease your own discomfort at perpetuating this plague upon mankind...laugh indeed. Mwhahhaha
Hachi
(old draft of a blog I never finished, FYI)
I just finished watching a beautifully sad story about a dog named Hachi. He was found as a puppy by a professor and lived with him for years. Hachi would dig out of the backyard to get to the train station everyday and wait for his owner to arrive. Everyday for...decades! One day the professor didn't get off the train. He had died unexpectedly. The daughter tried to take over care of Hachi but each day he would escape to the train station. He would wait in that same location everyday for the next 10 years. PS, this was a true story. The dog finally stopped waiting for his master to come to him and he went to him, dying...going to find his owner in the afterlife.
What in the world is so prevalent in dogs that we as human being can't seem to master?...Loyalty...unconditional love. This movie is so worth watching! Warning: Bring your Kleenex!
I just finished watching a beautifully sad story about a dog named Hachi. He was found as a puppy by a professor and lived with him for years. Hachi would dig out of the backyard to get to the train station everyday and wait for his owner to arrive. Everyday for...decades! One day the professor didn't get off the train. He had died unexpectedly. The daughter tried to take over care of Hachi but each day he would escape to the train station. He would wait in that same location everyday for the next 10 years. PS, this was a true story. The dog finally stopped waiting for his master to come to him and he went to him, dying...going to find his owner in the afterlife.
What in the world is so prevalent in dogs that we as human being can't seem to master?...Loyalty...unconditional love. This movie is so worth watching! Warning: Bring your Kleenex!
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