I’m going to go make some playdough and do a pinch pot and a coil pot.
- B: Hey did you know Dad went to hospital last night?
- Me: NO! What? /about to get angry at Chris/
- B: Yeah well she called me first and asked if she should call you and I said no because I didn't appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night.
- Me: HOW DARE YOU? OF COURSE I WANT TO KNOW WHEN THIS STUFF HAPPENS!
- B: Yeah well, calm down. Do you want to know what happened?
- Me: I"M SO ANGRY AT YOU RIGHT NOW. OF COURSE I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.
- B: Oh he was limping and pointing to his foot. They did some scans. They think he might have a blood clot or something in his leg. But he's home now and I'm not really sure what happened.
- Me: Fine. Goodbye.
Okay, you got me, I’m excited.
I leave for Melbourne tomorrow. At 6:30 AM. I don’t care. I’m so excited. I just web-checked-in our flights for tomorrow morning so we have to be there by six. But I’m so excited.
COMIC BOOK SHOPS.
Oh Tasmania, such a hole thou art.
I wouldn’t want to live in Melbourne but two days away should be excellent. Also: TIM BURTON.
I’ve lost myself in the glory and wonder of God. And through my searching, I have found nothing that can please me more than Him.
I am so easily distracted. And I have been far too easily pleased and far too easily entertained. But I have been made for the infinity, for the glory and fullness of God and nothing less. I was designed for Romance, to truly be drawn and desired and held by God. And though I have tricked myself into believing that anything less can satisfy me, I find relief and joy in the fact that I do not have to settle. I do not have to settle. And neither do you. We were made for glory. We are the body and bride of Christ. We were created
To draw joy and love from God, to interact with Him, to love and be loved. For Romance larger than fairy tales and more glorious than diamond rings and stomach butterflies. My heart will not settle. My soul will rest no where but within the presence of God.
Only You can satisfy.
And I take SUCH joy in that.
Just in general.
Like, what do you think people coming through school/university whatever need to know. Probably most specifically in middle school/elementary school.
thank you so much.
Please go to my ASK BOX or REPLY to this message or send me an email [firstname.lastname@example.org]
And give me your AGE and WHAT YOU THINK SHOULD BE TAUGHT IN SCHOOLS and if you are CURRENTLY A STUDENT OR NOT.
I need at least 8 responses for my uni assignment and I’m pretty desperate. PLEASE do this for me.
It’s a 2009 Kia Rio.
I’m stressed and confused and over-committed…
I need to get rid of something.
A work session. Or a uni subject.
I am incredible. I am beautiful and smart and powerful and courageous. I am funny and sweet and clever. I’m unashamed to be myself. I’m daring, bold. I can be whimsical. I can be serious. I am so unique and special and downright incredible.
So are you.
I admit it.
It bugs me on a weird level I didn’t think it would to see Lynette (Mark’s ex… the girl he broke up with on December 30 - just three days before confessing he loved me) post a message on his facebook wall. It bugs me less than if she’d private messaged him.
I honestly thought I wouldn’t care. But… well… I think I wouldn’t care if he’d messaged her… but her taking the initiative? And not messaging me as well? It’s just…
I don’t know.
Am I ridiculous? It was completely innocuous.“Hey, Hope you are well and that work is progressing nicely!”
I am. I am completely ridiculous. He’s marrying me, after all. But it’s strange that I feel this way. I didn’t think I would. Honestly.
Ah Sartre… why must you engage me so?
I’ve been very negative lately. So let’s find TEN positive things in my life.
- I have God. He’s awesome.
- I have Mark. Also awesome.
- I have a new car. That should come tomorrow.
- My Dad is getting better slowly.
- My flatmate is cooking dinner.
- I got to see my sister and brother today.
- Naan man is back. Unfortunately he’ll go away again soon. But I got naan today. Which makes me happy.
- There can be awesome sci fi in our universe. Which is incredible. Even if they best sci fi ever made got cut half way through and is actually a space western.
- I have tumblr and all the awesome friends I have met therein.
- My mother lives in another country and thus I do not have to see her often and she annoys me less.
Well that was easy. Your turn.
Congratulations on getting engaged. You better not have had a shag and not told me.
Have you had sex yet? Sex is great. How do you know you want to marry him if you haven’t f*%$#d him yet?
Of course you are coming to my wedding, silly girl, how else will I find out about your sex life.
Is it just me, or is my aunt a bit weird?
Reason I follow Fatima #2499403
Apparently, it’s just a mail time of my life.
And no, it’s not all wedding invitations.
I want to offer to write letters to people… but I just don’t think I have the time at the moment. However, should you want a letter when I have the time, (Oh goodness xtina I am SO SORRY I haven’t written you back! Give me a week and then I will post - I’m still thinking of you!), leave a message in my ask box. I do actually send letters to everyone who requests one. And it’s nice to get mail.
Oh and Kelsey - mighty2save - I’ve lost your address… but I do have a letter for you… can you give it to me please?
The first time [only time] Mark and dad did this… I basically sat in the fetal position for an hour and rocked a little, staring into space, hoping this wasn’t one of those cage match situations… Mark and Dad don’t get along… Mainly because they both love me and they both think they know best and Mark thinks it Mark and Dad thinks it’s not Mark. That said, I’m sure Ryan and your Dad aren’t killing each other but rather bonding :-P Or having The Talk. o.O
- There are only five pages of tumlblr between where you left off and when you woke up.
Yep. Going back to bed.
Or a text. Or a call. Or something.
Because, well, they understand what you’re saying. Because despite their faults and your arguments and the stupid pig headed things they do… they actually do love you.
They might be awkward or weird or kooky or irresponsible or troublesome or bigoted or pigheaded or controlling… they might be easy going, funny, loving, cheeky, smart, clever, sarcastic and friendly.
You might tell your Dad secrets, or you might keep secrets from him. He might have been the person who told you about drugs and how to say no. He might have been the one you wanted to patch your skinned knees because he was gentler than your mother was. He might be your rock and place of calm in the madness of your family sometimes. He might be the person you take your big questions to. Or the person you talk to about the universe and how it got there. Your Dad might be your confidant and your judge, jury and executioner. You might find you never measure up to his expectations - or rather the expectations you think he has of you. You might live to make him proud. He might have screwed up a lot. He might have said sorry, or he might not have.
My Dad was all these things. In fact, the last time I saw him before the stroke, despite Mark and Dad’s problems, we were going to him for advice on buying a house. We talked for forty-five minutes. We joked and teased. He gave good advice. He wanted to walk me down the aisle, I think, because he made a dig about it. I laughed him off. I told him I loved him, I told him to get a massage. And I don’t think I even looked back over the road to wave, because Mark was already at the car.
I think if I’d known it was the last time I’d see him like he was for a long time, that there would have been stuff I would have said. I would have not just tossed an ‘I Love You’ at him, but I would have hugged him so much tighter, I would have looked him full in the face and told him. I think I would have asked him if he was proud of me, in spite of his disagreements with me marrying Mark. I think I would have asked why he gave me a double blessing. But I know I would have told him I loved him properly. I know I would have hugged him tighter. I know I would have said goodbye properly. And I guess that’s the thing. My Dad is still here. But he’s not quite who he was. He might be back one day, or he might not. We don’t know.
Your Dad is still here. Give him a hug and tell him you love him. Not because you might not get another chance. Not because I’ve freaked you out with my Dad having no warning about his stroke. Not because of that. But because he’s your Dad. And because one day, whether it be tomorrow, or ten years, or fifty years from now, one day he won’t be there. He won’t be there because you live miles away or because he got sick or he lost his memory or because he passed away. Give him a hug because you love him. And you want to make sure he knows that.
Dads are SPECIAL. Give your dad a hug. And tell him you love him. Just because he’s your Dad.
- So I pull up to the service station today and get out and start filling my tank and the service station attendant comes over and goes:
- SSA: You do know you're in the full service lane, don't you?
- Me: Uh, yeah. Sorry. Only lane open and there was no one here. I'm a believer in efficiency. You can take over if you really want to. But I have it covered.
- SSA: I'd like to have it covered. But what I'd really like is to give you a full service...
- Me: Like... you mean... fill the tank and um... wash the windscreen or something?
- SSA: You know what I mean. I knock off in an hour.
- Me: ..
- SSA: So what do you say?
- Me: ... I'm going to go inside and pay now...
I downloaded two lectures to listen to while driving. I read the required readings for music, visual art and one chapter of Curriculum and Pedagogy…I did my tutorials for both visual art and music…
I was going to read the second chapter of C&P and then the internet distracted me. Sigh. Might need to spend tomorrow in coffee shops.
That one of the better ways to make me grumpy is to talk to me first thing in the morning… and not say good morning or hello or how did you sleep but rather start telling me what to do or nagging me. It’s just not going to end well.
And because I actually like my flatmate and because I know that my reaction would have been extreme and unjustified… I just didn’t say anything.
I need taurine. Yesterday.
Our teacher told this.
Alejandro means man’s defender and protector (God.)
Fernando meansardent for peace (Jesus.)
Roberto meansbright or shining fame (Holy Spirit.)
Babe is the same as Child.
Don’t call my name, dont call my name, GOD.
I’m not your child, i’m not your child, Jesus
Don’t call my name, dont call my name, holy spirit.
God, just let me go.
- Lady Gaga
& shes got everyone singing it. omg.
Wow that sucks… this is so sad.
its really sad<3
I am not stating my opinion on this… but I would be interested in knowing what JD (bombinabirdcage) thinks about this.
Actually, I will state my opinion.
This is ridiculous. Even if Lady Gaga set out to pick names to represent God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit (highly unlikely. What’s more likely is that they fit in with the pentameter), it might not mean what you think it means. Given that Lady Gaga apparently claims that she is pro-God… Do you think it might mean that she’s ashamed? That she doesn’t want God to see her? Who she’s become? Have you never had a moment where you’ve been like: God… just… leave me. Please. I can’t. I’m failing you everyday and I can’t go on with it. I suck at being your child. I’m not doing you honour. You should find someone else, someone better to do this.’ Now God doesn’t leave, that’s the point of relationship. And of course I’m defending Lady Gaga… I’m just annoyed that people are just listening to something someone said and taking it as gospel without going to the source or forming their own opinion.
I never knew the term for rape in my language. Now I am saddened to learn it.
Badnawm doesn’t just mean rape it basically means “Bad reputation.”
My aunt was just telling me about a documentary she watched on how more girls have been missing and being raped and then killed. I had to stop her and ask her what Badnawm meant. I was shocked to learn that that was the word for rape. The conversation went on to become a debate.
Me: But why that’s the word for rape?
Aunt: Because the girl’s reputation is ruined and nobody will marry or respect her.
Me: Why not?
Aunt: Because she’s had sex.
Me: She was raped, there’s a difference.
Aunt: She should’ve been more careful. Look, it’s probably not 100% her fault.
Me: It’s not 1% her fault! She DIDN’T do anything wrong. The rapist should keep his hands to himself and his fucking penis in his pants.
Aunt: I don’t make up the rules. That’s just how it is.
I was too angry to keep the conversation going, I had to leave but I really wanted to reply, “That’s how it is because people like you allow for that mindset to live on, instead of understand and thinking logically that a girl who is raped did nothing wrong.”
I hate people that say all men are the cause of women’s oppression because women are just as responsible if not more. The women that hold their daughters down while they are being circumcised, something that is also known as female genital mutilation. The women who force their daughters to marry men three times their age. The women who hold their daughters back from continuing their education or following their dreams, telling them that their place is at home.
And now this. Someone from my own family who believes women who are raped must’ve done something to deserve it. It really makes me upset because as if rape victims aren’t going through enough, they have shit like this to deal with. People looking at them differently. People making the assumption that they did something wrong. That they “asked” for it. And now nobody will marry them? Bull fucking shit.
If I accomplish anything in my life I hope it’s to change the word for rape to something other than badnawm and to show women who have been raped in Afghanistan or any other country that it was not their fault and they have nothing to be ashamed of. That they too deserve to have a beautiful wedding with a wonderful guy who will respect them and to have as many children as they like and to study any subject they wish to study and to work where they please.
“I wish that every human life might be pure transparent freedom.” -Beauvoir
saminskip replied to your post: Mark and the Fish…
It won’t have been Danger. They only attack other fighter males. Since it is such a small tank, it is almost def. some kind of chemical spike causing shock or temperature shock. How did they look when they died? Sluggish and struggling to swim?
cfromchicago replied to your post: Mark and the Fish…
I think it’s hard to keep fish alive. I remember having tons of fish, because they always died on me. But never a fighting fish. I think they last longer. But I’ve had a cat for 9 years. :) Sorry for you loss in Bill and Ted.
I composed a poem on the subject upon hearing the full story:
Bill and Ted
And now they’re dead.
We were told to give them 1/8th of an algae tablet EACH every SECOND day. Mark broke up an algae tablet into eighths and but the whole lot in… apparently they were very bloated when he found their little fish corpses. We’re going to try again with a loach. And not put him in charge of feeding it.
Bettas are usually really good at staying alive. I had mine for about three years until my mother killed it. Long story. Anyway. Danger is still alive :-)
larabelle replied to your post: Prayer Point
I just want to let you know I’m praying for you, AND that I feel exactly the same way about Manual cars. Like, the stressing and hyperventilating every time I try. Bless you Sarai xo
Situation was resolved! I think. I have use of a car Monday and Tuesday and should have a new car by Wednesday, which is excellent.
Bill and Ted are dead.
In Mark’s continued adorable obsession with Danger, our siamese fighter fish, he procured two sucking catfish yesterday.
I didn’t even get to take a photo of them for you. And now they are dead. We don’t really know why, but yeah. Mark texted me this morning. It’s very sad.
We’re pretty sure Danger didn’t kill them. Too much stress in the moving? Too warm in the heated tank? Too much oxygen with the air filter? (this is like a half gallon tank for you Americans who don’t understand 3L) No idea. But Bill and Ted… are dead.
I’m going to guess that as long as we keep Danger alive, we’re doing okay.
Okay so my car…
Look I don’t even want to talk about it. But I need a working car BY WEDNESDAY [I am in Australia, today is Sunday].
It’s booked in on Tuesday. I’m just praying that something miracle-like will happen and it will be okay. But I have a ride on Monday, use of a car on Tuesday… and then on Wednesday I’m screwed. I can’t even catch a bus. Because I have to be in Westbury.
I can’t drive a manual. If I could drive a manual (or a stick, for you Americans) then this wouldn’t be a problem. Unfortunately I have Aspergers Syndrome and I could never handle that multi-tasking while learning thing and I’d stress and hyperventilate every time I tried to drive one.
This is a boring post. Even in my head. Anyway. Please pray.