Thursday, August 23, 2012

Taking something from one man and making it worse is plagiarism

Help me!!! I can't get off Yahoo answers!
Well...atleast drag me out of the religion and spirituality section. It makes me angry and frustrated to see all these supposed "fellow Christians" acting like moronic idiots! Seriously! One person claimed God told her who she's going to marry. Another said that God was going to give them whatever they wanted because they found "favour." Whaaaat?  Christians are not (all) woo-hoos! Stop claiming it just to troll!!!
See what I mean?
I did have fun answering questions about people's poems though. Can't say I discovered the next Robert Louis Stevenson, but some of them were pretty good. Others?
Well...you know the saying. "If you can't say anything nice..."
Anyway, I seem to have made quite an impression on one person. A few days after browsing and answering some poetry questions, I get a message from a user asking if I'll help her with a poem. Of course, I said yes.
Hey, I know you would do it too for that extra oomph of ego.
So, there I was thinking I was helping a girl understand a poem better. I gave her my insight on the poem, explaining what I got out of it and what I thought the poem was trying to get across. She was very thankful for my insight. Of course, she was.
Little did I know, I was helping this girl...WITH HER HOMEWORK!
The next message is sent to me containing some very specific questions. Questions that I know very well she didn't make up herself. I pointed this fact out, gave her a little guidance on how to get some of the answers for herself, and basically said that I wasn't about to give her a free ride on my back for a good grade. Kids these days, sheesh!
Just like the usual youngsters these days. They want all the answers, but they don't want to make any effort to find them theirselves. Sad. I don't know how she'll do on the project, but I guarantee she won't feel any pride from the work she didn't do. Asking for help was good. I'll gladly help someone who is struggling with trying to understand something. Asking me to do everything was bad. Very bad.
I just wonder how much effort she put into it before she asked me to help her.
I think you know the answer just as well as I do.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

The truest test of love is if you're willing to keep fighting for it.

Wow...look at the time...yeah, sorry about that, seemingly non-existent readers!
You like the new font? I thought I'd switch things up a bit this time.
Anyway, moving on to what's been going on lately.
The past week or so, I have been doing something that sadly isn't new to me: fighting for a life that isn't mine.
My youngest kitten, about 3-4 weeks old, is battling an upper respiratory illness (yes, cats can get it too). I feel like it's ripping my heart out to tend to it and hear it wheezing and trying to manage a squeak to call out to its mother. To be honest, due to its young immune system, I figured this kitten would be gone by now. But it's not, and that gives me some comfort.
So, here I am, going outside every day with a wet napkin to wash its face and clean up it's poor little nose. Why? Because I have to. As long as there's something I can do for my little ones, I'll do it.
Because I love them.
And I always will.
Three of my older kittens ran away the same time this kitten was born. I have been heavily grieving this fact, and that is why I haven't updated for a while. My heart just wasn't into it.
People always call me the "crazy cat lady." I don't care, because I know I'm not. I don't give them all fru-fru names and carry them around like babies. I don't dress them up in little doll's clothes. I don't chain them to my house so they'll stay with me forever. Call me the cat lady if you will, but crazy I am not. I just love them and care for them and try to make their lives as happy as I can. I do grieve when I lose them, but wouldn't you do the same for a friend?
Most of all though, I will fight for them.
I will endure physical and emotional pain for the little ones that I am responsible for. Change that, I have endured. But I don't regret one single moment of them. I don't regret scouring the forest, calling for them. I don't regret hand-feeding them when they're too sick and weak to drink from their mother. I don't regret the bruises and scratches and scars I have gotten from relocating them to safer places. My only regret is that I lack in facilities and resources to care for them better.
Their lives are my life now, and I will fight for them as if for my own life.
Because I love them.
What do you do for the little things you love? For the ones you love?
Here's a better question...
What do you fight for?

Friday, August 10, 2012

being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.

I've been feeling extaordinarily lonely today. Maybe it has something to do with that fact that I haven't seen a single soul yet today...and it's 6:30...PM.
This is not how I want to live my life, but it's happening.
Does anyone even read this?
I'd like to think I make a difference to someone who reads this, but I'm just not seeing anything near some sort of evidence to make me believe that I am.
Is anyone out there? Listening to me rant about things I see every day? Listening to my observations about the various happenstances that, well, happen?
...anyone?
Anyway, I watched a lot of tv today and decided to write this:

Tips for directing/writing a ScyFy B-movie:::
1. start with 3 dudes doing something, alone, in the wide open space. Have the monster attack them. Leave no survivors.
2. Hire three freshmen college students to do all of the CG. All of it.
3. Hire a cheap stuntman to prance around in an obviously rubber prosthetic suit.
4. TELL THE ACTORS THAT MAYBE IF THEY TALK LOUD ENOUGH, THE MONSTER WON'T HEAR THEM!
5. Don't introduce the monster after the first time until about, oh, let's say, three-quarters of the way into the movie. I mean, everyone loves drawn-out backstories right? right?
6. No, no, no. Just having the monster terrorize everyone isn't horrific enough. Throw in some kind of natural disaster like a blizzard or a tornado. That'll keep the audience on the edge of their seats.
7. Hey, here's a good idea! Let everyone think the monster's dead a half hour before the movie ends! Then watch their surprised faces as it revives not once, but twice! It's genius!
8. Buy a lot of ketchup packets. I mean c'mon, you gotta go for realism here.
9. No one, and I mean no one, can be killed naturally. Have them, I don't know, get their heads bitten off or crack them in half over the monster's knees. Ooo! Better yet! Rip their arm off and beat them with it! That's not funny at all if you put enough ketch--er---blood and screaming.
10. Let atleast one couple survive so that in the end they can make out like sausages.
11. Tripods are too expensive. Just hold it on your shoulder. I'm sure no one will notice the camera jerking every 2 seconds.
12. As the last scene, show a clip of the monster's arm/tentacle/claw/whatever twitching to give the impression that it survived the rockslide/explosion/volcanic eruption/multiple gunshot wounds to the head.
13. If the protagonists need gas or ammo, always put it on the opposite side of where they're at. And have the monster protect it like its own children.
14. Always let the audience know that the monster is nearby by playing obviously menacing music every time even if it doesn't really fit into the scene.
15. Have atleast one person with the wrong kind of accent or nationality from where they're supposedly from.

Come on, I know you know of one movie like this. :)

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live

Some days, I just want to scream.
Every time this woman steps into the same room as me, she never fails to find something to criticize. According to her, I'm fat, lazy, and scare children away with my face.
Nothing I do is ever good enough to appease her.
I don't do something that she didn't tell me to do and she yells at me. When I do it without her asking, she scoffs and asks why I didn't do something else as well. I'll never win with her, so I've stopped trying.
She's trying to fix me as if I'm one of her broken "toys" that's not quite working right. She thinks that maybe if she hit me hard enough and long enough, I'll "straighten up." Yeah, right. All I'm doing is bending the other way. I don't want what she wants. I don't want to be like her.
She wants me to be a carbon copy of herself. Never gonna happen. I don't want to be selfish, using guilt and fear to manipulate others to do what I want them to do. I don't want to take advantage of people to get them to do what I'm too lazy to do myself. I don't want to bring others down so I can go higher. I don't want to be anywhere near where who she is now.
If she thinks someone's angry with her, she responds with more anger even if that person wasn't mad at her in the first place. She slams things and sighs heavily to get her point across. She doesn't even realize that she hurts others as well as hurting herself. She wants people to feel sorry for her, because then she knows they'll want to make her "feel better." I don't do that. I don't feel sorry for people who ask for it. I don't pity people who only want everyone's eyes on them and their pitiful state. It's a sick and disgusting way to feel better about yourself.
Lately, she' s realized that maybe she hasn't handled our relationship in the best way. She buys me gifts and takes me special places to try and make it up to me. It doesn't work. The damage is done. Here are some quotes that she's said to me.
"Don' t you have any ambition??"
"Can't you do anything right?"
"Is that you?" (said as she pokes me in the stomach. It wasn't joking.)
"People will see you!" (I wasn't wearing makeup. Heaven forbid!!!)
"They just need to dwindle away to one or two." (talking about my multiple pet cats)
The damage is done. The damage is done. You can't heal scars; you can only try to hide them.
She will be sweet as sugar to your face, but rip you apart like a ravenous piranha behind your back. Not once, but every time she comes in contact with you. In her mind, she knows exactly how you are and that's how you will be to her, even if she's wrong. I feel sorry for her husband. I wonder if he knew what exactly she was like when he married her, or if she was just hiding her true self in order for him to like her better.
I should hate her...but I can't.
She's my mom.
I have to love her, even if it's only for my duty as her child.
Please...don't do this to your children. Please love them always and be the person you want them to be. Don't expect them to be perfect, because you know you aren't either. Please.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.

It's not everyday you see kittens at Pizza Hut.
Not inside, of course, but apparently the cats' mother decided that the bushes by two busy roads was the best place to raise her skiddish young. While waiting for our pizza at the drive-thru (and enjoying our free drinks, courtesy of the cute window guy), I spotted one grey kitten and one black kitten nosing around in a small grassy area by some bushes. Always the one to show my zeal for feline friends, I immediately point them out to my sister. We both ooh and ahh about them for a few minutes before wondering who was taking care of them. Upon further inspection of the area, I spied two empty cans of cat food near the bushes. The employees of that Pizza Hut have my grandest respect. It's not everyday that a company as busy as a pizza place will go out of their way to show kindness to something as small as few kittens in the bushes outside their place. I wanted to go inside and commend whoever it was for their act of selflessnes. I also wanted to share my condolences for the one kitten that had been hit. Instead of leaving the lifeless cat on the side of the road, someone (one of the staff who feeds them, I assume) had removed the cat and hid it in the bushes away from the road.
Now that's honorable.
I have no doubt that someone had a rough start to their day at work after that happened.
I love stories like these. I have a collection of photos of soldiers, policemen, and firemen with kittens they've either saved or become friends with.
They're so awesome, I must share them:










I have lots more; if anyone wants to see them, you can either ask or google image search them.
These are the true hearts of heroes.

Friday, August 3, 2012

The three great essentials to achieve anything worthwhile are, first, hard work; second, stick-to-itiveness; third, common sense

This may cause a few to take a double-take.
Today, I was afraid of not getting laid off.
Yes, you heard me. I wanted to get fired from my 9 to 5, air-conditioned, pencil-pushing, temporary part-time office job. Why? Because the other person I worked with did, and I didn't (and still don't) want to make up for what they can't do now that they're gone. I'm gonna make a small confession: I hate answering phones and making phone calls. I abhor it. What makes my odd phone-phobia extra nervous about the job? I work at an insurance agency...and I know absolutely nothing about insurance. Nothing. Nada. Nil. For now, I just do the paperwork and mailing. I don't have to deal with equally ignorant clients who depend on me to be their fountain of insurance-y knowledge. I can't wake people up to tell them their birthday's tomorrow and that we "hope it's a good one!" I just sit behind the computer and crunch some serious insurance numbers. Auto quotes are...so fun...
But for now, let's get our minds of me and to the ex-employee.
Why were they fired?
One word: motivation.
They didn't have any. A case as easy as eating pie. Good pie.
Kids these days want to be paid for what they don't do. It's crazy! If you wonder why kids these days are so unappreciative and rebellious, it's because they don't know what the word "responsibility" means (courtesy of lazy parents, no doubt). They don't know the satisfaction of a good day's work. They want the medal without running the race. Sorry, but microwave solutions are nothing compared to slowly cooking them to perfection.
My employer told me that the former employee lacked "conscientiousness," and clearly stated that if "you don't work, you don't stay." Ouch, man.
People brush off their petty jobs all the time, but I seriously question whether that's beneficial to them. I mean, if you have a dream, chances are you're going to have to work for it. When was the last time you saw or heard of a dream come true falling out of the sky and neatly landing on someone's lap? If you have any sort of dream for your future whatsoever, do you really want to waste your time by only just waiting for it? I don't. It's entirely possible that it won't happen at all that way. I want to break free of a job that is slowly wasting me away from behind a glowing computer screen. I dream of watching an African sunset, listening to the night from my jeep or tent. I dream of wide open skies, the wind in the trees, the sun beating down, my cheetah cubs tumbling over each other in the grass. I don't want to work with insurance, but I do it. Because we all have to do things we don't want to do to achieve our dreams. Your dream is more than just a goal; it's a prize that you have to run for. In order to pet my first cheetah, I must first do this job. I have to be responsible and do my job now for my dream job later. I will reach my dream, but only if I persevere and work consistently and do what I need to do now.
But I'm not touching that phone...

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

It is a risk to love. What if it doesn't work out? Ah, but what if it does?

Facebook's gone! Guess I should celebrate or something.
....yippee....
ANYWAY, something simply magical happened tonight.
There I was, listening to a sad love song crying because I thought I'd lost my friend to another girl, when all of a sudden, my phone vibrates!
It was him! Asking me to guess where he was.
I guessed right, of course. I make it a point to be creepy like that...not really.
After telling him I work for the CIA and him bouncing off a comeback, we got past the inevitable small talk and he said these words which never fail to break my heart into teeny weeny pieces:
"I wish i could see you"
I am such a girl. No, really.
One second I'm sobbing and asking God for one more chance and literally the next second, BOOM! Answer.
Life works funny sometimes, don't it?
But for us, it was never sometimes. It was all the time.
For the past two years, I've been annoying God for one more chance and getting it. But why? It's never happened before. One minute, I was telling Him that I didn't want to be lonely anymore and the next I'm talking to the guy who would become the best friend I've ever had. How does that happen? It's amazing...and scary.
Do I really want to take the chance and fall for this guy?
Too late. He's awesome.
But I thought that about other guys, too. What makes this one so different?
I'll tell you.
I didn't pick him. All the other guys I liked because I chose to like them. I didn't choose to like this guy.
I just did.
I did from the moment I saw his awkward little quirks. I did from the moment he smiled randomly for no particular reason. I did from the moment he looked at me with those deep blue eyes.
I admit it. I'm smitten. Twitter-pated. Hook, line, and sinker. My face hurts from falling so fast.
But you know what, I'm willing to take the chance with him. Even though he told me we're too alike in personality to be anything more, I will stubbornly refuse to give up my hopes. Just like a girl.