A glass of water

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there!

I've been on a long hiatus from the challenge, and blogging too I guess. However this week blog-friend Lance inspired me to step up. 

This week's prompt was inspired from advice from Kurt Vonnegut and inspires us to find our voice. 

“Every character should want something. Even if it is just a glass of water."

She lay on her back as the ceiling swirled above her. Her throat dry as a Texas summer, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Shutting her eyes she tried not to think of the sweet, cool relief only 20 steps away.

Day was breaking, casting thin slices of light around the room. She heard trees rustling as the breeze blew through them. She willed her limbs to move but they refused; there was no slack in the rope.

Swallowing hard, she wished he would return but knew he would not. He was fond of teaching her these lessons.

They are anti-gay and that's not OK

To all those people who spent hours of their life waiting at Chick-fil-a today. Great. Good for you. You waited an hour or two for a tasty sandwich that you can get tomorrow or Friday or Saturday (but not Sunday). What did you prove, exactly? I'm just curious what people's thoughts are on this because me? My time is precious. Far too precious to spend on a cause that does nothing for me, but continues to line the pockets of a millionaire.

No one here is challenging Christians. No one is trying to lock the doors of your churches. No one is trying to drag you out on Sunday to do anything. Anything. Other than play golf and watch football, apparently. Maybe mow the yard.

If you don't read any further than this, please know. No one is asking you to give up your faith.

Do you want to know about persecution? Ask the family of the teen who was made fun of and bullied until he took his own life. Ask the partner of 25 years who has no rights when her loved one dies. Ask the women whose career is wasted in a company that will never pay her the same as a man. Ask the kids who have to live with the mental and physical scars of having been sexually abused. Ask any citizen of the Muslim faith or who doesn't look like white America.

Ask the woman who excelled at her job-was given high, high reviews-and was not only denied a promotion, but advised to “resign” from the company to “focus on her family”. Wonder how she now feels about Chick-fil-a? I'm willing to bet she was oh, so thankful to CFA for that little bit of Christian charity. Bet they miss that 2^nd income.

Ask the group whose company function CFA refused to cater. Ask the potential franchise owners who were quizzed about their Christianity. Heck, ask Dan Cathy, who in an interview in early 2011 said it himself:

“Let me be clear, Chick-Fil-A serves all people and values all people,” Cathy said. “Providing food to these events, or any event, is not an endorsement of the mission, political stance or motives of this or any other organization. Any suggestion otherwise is just inaccurate,” he added. This was in an article in which, interestingly, Cathy said the company was "dropping its support for anti-gay marriage groups."

Three weeks later he said:

“Chick-Fil-A's Corporate Purpose is 'To glorify God by being a faithful steward of all that is entrusted to us, and to have a positive influence on all who come in contact with Chick-Fil-A.' As a result, we will not champion any political agendas on marriage and family. This decision has been made, and we understand the importance of it.”

Or in November 2011 when he said:

“While my family and I believe in the Biblical definition of marriage, we love and respect anyone who disagrees.”

To this most recent, emboldened statement saying he supports the “biblical definition of a family” and believes Americans have a “prideful, arrogant attitude” about gay marriage that risks “inviting God’s judgment on our nation.”

Hm. Wait, which Mr. Cathy are we listening to here?

So, gay marriage-two men committing to one another for life-is going to bring judgment. But child molesters who are allowed to get away with it for years won't? Especially when they work at the church. Or are football coaches who cover up for child molesters. Or a mother who kills her children in the name of god. Or bombs an abortion clinic killing all inside. No juding there I guess.

Listen, folks. I stopped eating Chick fil a a long time ago. At some point in 2008 after learning of several very credible instances where the company had refused service to gay groups. Now, everyone who doesn't know the full story is making this about something it's not. People are not boycotting Chick fil a because they don't believe in gay marriage. They are boycotting because Chick fil a is anti-gay. Because they donate to christian organizations that sell a “cure” for being gay. They donate to groups who actively lobby against laws that would equalize the gay community. Because they actively work to undermine people who have made life choices based on who they are and who they love.

So, you stood in line and ate your delicious chicken sandwich. Sooooo so delicious. Not much of a sacrifice for your anti-homosexual beliefs, eh? All I can think is that there was probably someone in a nursing home who might have welcomed a visit. Someone in the hospital who might have been read to. Someone who needed a home cooked meal. There are just so many other ways to spend two hours, says the woman who isn't even a Christian. If you don't like gay marriage? Don't marry another dude. Or woman, as the case may be. It does nothing to destroy your marriage. Unless of course you're gay and denying yourself the truth that is you.

Chick fil a isn't anti gay marriage. They are anti-gay. And that's not OK.

And to the person who unfriended me on Facebook simply because I expressed my opinion, I didn't know you were still my friend until you wrote that you were unfriending me over a statement about chicken and christians. I stand by what I said, and I won't miss you at all. I already turned off your hateful, right wing comments over a year ago.

My week on the Bizarro Bus-First Stop

I am curling up here, fetal position, in my own little corner of the internet this afternoon. It's been a rough week. Sometimes things people do and say frustrate me to no end. Other times it's just too scary. Most days I am overwhelmed by sensations out in the real world. Passions, beliefs, feelings and the things they cause people to do.

I've had a lot of things kicking around in my brain this week, which usually causes me to slip into a mode of not giving a shit what anyone thinks and craving an outlet for those thoughts. It's actually why I began writing this blog in the first place. Why I am not on here much anymore is anyone's guess but I'd say it's as much a lack of structure and discipline on my part as it is just having a busy life.

My week started out with frustration about a story that has been dragging on for years in my former town of Murfreesboro TN. At some point, post 9-11, local Muslims sought approval for a piece of land to become a Islamic Center. Sadly, this sparked some outrage in the community and horrible things were said and done during the "debate" over the issue. When all was said and done, the opposition when accused of being opposed solely because it was an Islamic center, ended up saying it was due to the "size" and "traffic concerns". Which didn't stop the community's mega-churches and/or ginormous WalMart, but I digress.

Since I don't live there anymore, I'll be honest, I had lost track of where everything stood until this week when, again, this week Murfreesboro made the news for embodying everything that is wrong with America. While admittedly I don't know all the specifics, apparently now that the Islamic Center is complete and they have spent the money on construction, furnishings and the like in that community– there are still people trying to block them by holding up their occupancy permit. A legal ruling made by a Tennessee judge (who had nullified the county's approval of the building) was overturned by a Federal Judge, by the way.

If you're interested in hearing what the Murfreesboro Muslim community has been through in getting approval on their 12,000 square foot community center, this page of The Tennessean will tell you much more accurately and succinctly than I ever could.

But what I'd like people to think about is this:

According to The Tennessean, the opponents to the Islamic Center "have claimed in court that Islam isn’t a true religion and that local Muslims want to overthrow the U.S. Constitution and replace it with Islamic religious law."

How unbelievable to me. How arrogant. And how hypocritical. What good is it to live in a country that is admittedly a proponent of "freedom of religion"....FREEDOM OF RELIGION.... the freedom to practice (or not) your religion as you see fit?

It is just soul crushing to me to see right there in black and white the way in which many residents of this country see freedom of religion as "freedom to practice your religion– as long as it agrees with mine" or "freedom to voice any and all opinions on religion–as long as it isn't ANTI religion, and your opinions agree with mine" or "freedom of religion only when we understand and approve it".

Can't we just be the least little bit accepting and open? Even to things we don't understand? Aren't we past that? Do we seriously think if there were a terrorist cell in Murfreesboro, TN that they would spend money on a brand new 12,000 square foot Islamic Center in the middle of a God fearing community? C'mon folks.

More about stop #2 on my Bizarro Bus this week later. I have to go be domestic for a while.

***blogger note: I have about a bazillion friends in Murfreesboro all of whom are the cream of the crop when it comes to loving, helping and accepting others no matter what. I truly mean it. I just think sometimes the idiots were blessed with a louder voice, and for that I am sorry. I LOVE my friends in the 'Boro and they are not included in this rant at all.

Fragile Image

Fragile Image

“Who does she think she is?” 

It was so quietly spoken, followed by giggles, I wasn't sure she said it out loud. It seemed possible that I just thought it. After all, it wouldn't be the first time I've heard that remark. 

I've heard it from the time I was a small girl, all imagination and big dreams. I've heard it from friends, family, even my own parents. 

I caught her eye, feeling fragile but giving her a confident smile that would silently let her know:

"I didn't hear a thing, I deserve to be here, you know. I'm worthy."

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. We've all been on a break, and I am feeling very rusty so please be kind! 

This week's prompt was "fragile". 

The Mothers Day Paradox

Mothers Day is a tough one for me.

My mom is one of those "oh, I don't need anything" type of moms, even now that her children are grown. If I try to take her shopping she won't buy anything because, according to her, everything is "too expensive". She thinks getting a pedicure is extravagant, and she won't let me cook for her. I'm at a loss.

I spent part of the day out and about in Nashville yesterday and everywhere there were reminders of the fact that Mothers Day was upon us. I saw mothers and daughters shopping, headed to the movies or getting pedicures together. I saw pictures on Facebook of friends who took their moms on trips or had fun outings.

It all just makes me a little sad. None of these outings are anything we would do together. But they are all things I like to do. My mother and I have our issues, I guess most mothers and daughters do. I am not who she wants me to be, on anything. Right down to my career choice, religious choice, how I dress, and what I do in my free time.

She has flat out told me in no uncertain terms that she is disappointed that I didn't take the path she had planned for me. School teacher, live next door, teach Sunday school, have children, give her grandkids. Nope, I haven't accomplished any of those things. Rather, I have with intention pursued the life I wanted. No kids, an artistic job, and living in a nice home with the man I love where Sundays are just another weekend day.

I fail to comprehend why she should be disappointed that I didn't choose her life when I've had a totally successful life all my own. She tells me I don't have kids so I can't understand. But you know... honestly? Isn't the job of a parent to raise their children up to make the right choices in life? To end up stable, happy and able to provide for themselves? Isn't it as simple as that? Isn't it more to see them and be proud of them for being successful rather than making every choice for them? Doesn't my stable, normal, happily married life make her happy?

I wish I could take her out for a girls day. I wish she would come over and have coffee or a glass of wine with me sometimes. I wish we could go see a movie like The Help or Blind Side together. I wish we could shop together or travel somewhere for the weekend. But she doesn't drink coffee, or wine. Or soft drinks even. She doesn't like going to the movies, she gets bored shopping anywhere but yard sales, and she doesn't go much of anywhere without my dad.

But I love her, I respect her and I am so proud of her. I couldn't have had a better mother. She made my childhood so much fun, and kept me on the straight and narrow during my teen years. My mother is the strongest woman I know. She doesn't have a college degree, but she knows so much about so many things. And she's been married to my dad for almost 60 years, which is an accomplishment in itself.

I wish her life could have been easier. I wish she could have had the daughter she wanted. But I'm glad it isn't me because I would die trying to live that life.

Somewhere out there is my birth mother. The one who gave me up almost 45 years ago. I've never felt the need to meet her or know her but many times I wonder what she'd think of my life, of how I turned out. Would she be disappointed that I haven't accomplished more? Would she think that my life should be different? Or would it make sense to her, the way I live? A strong, intelligent, creative woman who lives in a small southern town with a loving husband. And struggles with her weight. But that's for another day....

Happy Mothers Day Y'all!

Batter Up!

The girl was cute, though dirty and bedraggled. She was watching me, fascinated, as I took pictures of the pee wee ball players running around the diamond, dust clouding up in the hot afternoon sun.

"May I take a picture of you?" I asked her. She glanced over at the older woman, her grandmother I assumed.

"Let her take your picture for the newspaper!" said the lady.

So I did. She smiled shyly and I snapped one picture. Her dress was so colorful and her wire-framed glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose. She looked up at me, smacking loudly on a mouthful of gum. I joked with her for a moment and moved on to finish up my work.

Moments later I was verbally accosted by the girl's mother for taking her picture. My good mood was immediately flattened like a bug on the windshield of a passing car. A trashy, dirty, dented-in, used-up, car. With part of the grill missing. And well over 200,000 miles on it.

"Kids enjoy having their pictures made. They love it. It doesn't mean I will put it in the paper. It's good for their self-esteem and obviously your daughter needs that," I said. I shouldn't have said it, but I did.

There's no telling what was going on with her. I don't know the whole story, and I always wonder when someone is so adamant about staying out of the paper. Explain why or don't, but there's no need for the anger.

It's always better to be nice with your request, assuming you know how to be civilized.

That one thought

It's glorious, isn't it? That brief moment when you first wake up. Still somehow suspended in your dream world, emotionally. Mentally. Not yet aware of everything around you.

All it takes is one stray thought to pierce that bubble. One thought of everything you left behind when you went to sleep last night and it's all over with.

Yesterday someone told me something that was intended to make me feel secure. Funny thing is all it did was worry and upset me the rest of the day. Sometimes ignorance is bliss sometimes, isn't it?

I worried about it all evening until I went to bed teary eyed, a domino chain of potential problems stretched out before me. This thing, this fact, brought up old feelings. Old issues, things I had forgotten. This thing made me feel overwhelmed with everything in my life. Completely out of control. It caused me to worry about future events and, worse, it made me feel alone.


This morning I was lying in bed, still half in my dream world. Whether my dreams were good or bad I don't remember. It doesn't matter. One thing is always consistent in my dreams. There is no backstory. There is no history. It's like I step into whatever scenario with no baggage. No memories, no attachments.

When I woke up there was just me in my bed. I was peaceful and happy. I wasn't thinking about anything, really. Until that one stray thought charged through my brain. And I began fretting on it all over again.

***Blogger's note: This post is not about my marriage. It is not about the "thing" I was told. It is about anxiety, and the randomness of it.***