Be a Catholic. In the middle of a mosque. On a Friday, during the prayer service. Not only is the service different from anything you've ever been to before, with the name of Allah being said, but you HAVE TO BE QUIET during the whole thing. Coming from someone who has a lively Mass service, who has a priest that literally cracks jokes from the lectern, this is a bit abnormal in and of itself. Before I get criticized, I'm not saying the religion is abnormal, I'm saying based on what I'm used to, it's different. And then to top things off, said Catholic woman has to cover herself, and she just doesn't have to do that to go to HER worship services. Only in the most conservative parishes is veiling still done, and then it's not a full veil or head covering... not like in a mosque.
ANYWAYS, said Catholic woman has a very good friend who's Muslim, and that doesn't drive, so once a month, I'll be taking Mandy the Muslimah to one of the mosques in the Portland area. I don't know if I'll go in with her, I may just choose to get lost amongst the baklava and the rosewater at Barbur World Foods Market, or do something else for 70 minutes... it was a different experience, one I'm not sure I'll repeat a third time. I may do anything for friendship, but being kicked in the back by some bratty kids, and having to keep silent the whole time when I'm known for being a "chatterbox", wellllllllllllllllllllllll........... I thought I was going to explode.
Rest assured to anyone that may have been worried, I'm firmly Catholic (okay, with a few Mormon/LDS beliefs thrown in for good measure) and I don't see that ever changing. My faith choices are my own, just like Mandy's are hers, and thankfully, we're no longer trying to "convert" the other. LOL. But I still have a respect for her beliefs, and if she has no other way of getting there, hey, it's only 70 minutes out of my month, and I'll endure almost anything for friendship and so my friend can worship how she chooses.
FINI
~Mel~
Monday, November 10, 2008
Thursday, October 02, 2008
New Family Members-- that need names!
I woke up this morning with my Dad asking me, "Are you planning on going anywhere today?" I'm really one of those "let the wind take me" kind of gals anymore, so I didn't say much. He then added, "You can't go anywhere, there's a couple of little kittens under your car." Apparently some heartless, cruel asshole dumped them in our yard-- these two babies are hardly bigger than my hands, and certainly couldn't fend for themselves-- they'd die without care. My father tends to be a joker, so I didn't believe him fully. I went out a few minutes later, and sure enough, there were two little kittens-- maybe two pounds each, tiny little precious babies, really, under my car. The little boy kitten, a tiger orange striped bundle of fur, came out right away, snuggling against me, purring his little heart out-- the little girl took awhile longer to warm. I went to the store straightaway to buy some canned/wet food-- which they immediately took to, like flies to warm cow plop (ha ha ha). My Mom was on her way home from work, so I was finally able to capture the second kitten, a light creamy little girl, and put her in the transport kennel, which she DID NOT appreciate. Her brother was a bit better, but as soon as Mom got home, she let the kitten out, and she immediately ran back under my car.... a tug of some string later and me grabbing the little girl by the neck, and the little kitty began to calm herself.
They're in the house now, and while Dad is NOT thrilled ("Five cats is TOO MANY"), he doesn't have a vote-- me and Mum are overruling him on this one... the little adorable kittens need a home, we have a home, and we'll take them in. It's religiously, morally, socially, and every other way the right thing to do-- so we'll do it. Both kittens are looking up at us with these little eyes of trust, wanting to believe they have a home now. As far as I'm concerned, they do.
I'll post pics as soon as these two settle down long enough to take them.
FIN
They're in the house now, and while Dad is NOT thrilled ("Five cats is TOO MANY"), he doesn't have a vote-- me and Mum are overruling him on this one... the little adorable kittens need a home, we have a home, and we'll take them in. It's religiously, morally, socially, and every other way the right thing to do-- so we'll do it. Both kittens are looking up at us with these little eyes of trust, wanting to believe they have a home now. As far as I'm concerned, they do.
I'll post pics as soon as these two settle down long enough to take them.
FIN
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Sick of Her Abuse!
My mother is, and has been for as long as I can remember, emotionally (and occasionally physically) abusive. Nothing I do is EVER good enough. In her words, I'm "worthless", "stupid", she "wishes I'd never been born" (that makes two of us), a "slut", a "whore", a "piece of shit", "dumber than a ten year old", and a host of other cruel things. One can only hear them so many times before one starts to believe them, and start to wonder what they're here for and why the hell they have to endure such treatment at the hands of the one that's supposed to love them unconditionally. My father used to be able to rein her bitchiness in, but he doesn't bother any longer. He'll hold me down so she can use me as a punching bag, he'll slap me upside the face myself for no reason. I don't have any place I can run to, and I haven't confided in Devin yet, scared that he'll run away screaming from the madness I deal with on a daily basis. It's just sort of hard to say, "Oh, by the way, my mother's an abusive witch that calls me names and uses me as a punching bag...." He's seen the bruises on my arm and I think he knows I'm lying when I say it was an accident, that I must've been slapping my arm for mosquitoes in the middle of the night, but he doesn't say anything.
I tell you-- when someone's going through abuse like I am, they NEED their friends, they need their lifelines. You may be the only thing that keeps them alive, that gives them any hope whatsoever for a brighter future or life. I barely have that. I have my boyfriend Devin, but he's about it. He's the only one that I feel any love from.
~MMH~
FIN
I tell you-- when someone's going through abuse like I am, they NEED their friends, they need their lifelines. You may be the only thing that keeps them alive, that gives them any hope whatsoever for a brighter future or life. I barely have that. I have my boyfriend Devin, but he's about it. He's the only one that I feel any love from.
~MMH~
FIN
Monday, June 23, 2008
Devin and Melinda: Pictures
Devin Morrison and I-- from top, Devin and his son Nythyn; the three of us in a "family" portrait; a picture taken of Devin and I by Nythyn; and two of Devin and I "the morning after camping-- and "other stuff".... enjoy!
Devin and Melinda, Chapter One: A Gassy Start
Someday, when Devin and I have been sealed for many, many years in marriage, and we have grandchildren asking how we met, and what our first conversation was about, we're going to have to admit it. Our very first conversation was about FARTING. Yes, the very first time I talked to my handsome hunk of man, we were discussing the release of intestinal gas. Flatulence. Stepping on a bullfrog. Cutting cheese. Whatever the euphenism used, it doesn't excuse the fact that the topic of FARTING was the first thing we ever talked about.
You see, Devin was with a group of his chemistry classmates-- all girls-- and one of them farted. She, like all females, was extremely embarrassed, and we somehow all began talking. Apparently, men have no such embarrassments, and feel free to fart with impunity. Devin was like, "Yeah, we just raise a cheek and fart away," which led to laughter from the whole group. I should've probably been totally turned off by this and wanted nothing to do with a man who has such a juvenile sense of humor, but I liked him then and there. Genuinely funny, extremely sweet, and able to talk about even the most embarrassing topics with humor....
I finished the thought for the term paper I was writing (my laptop was on the blink for the third time during finals), gathered my stuff, and had almost reached the door of the Applied Arts building when one of Devin's classmates came running after me. She asked for my contact information, and thinking Devin was a super stud at that point, I didn't mind giving it to her. I haven't regretted doing it since, either, and normally, I wouldn't do such a thing. I'd be turned off by a man who would ask in the first place!
The next week was the campus Tutor Madness session, where the college's Tutoring Center springs for pizza and drinks, and gets together professors from various departments to give people extra help before finals week. Devin also, in addition to being super stud, is a math tutor-- he's very gifted in Math, I'm gifted in English, so we balance out perfectly. We got to talking that night about everything-- I learned he's a relatively moderate Republican, which works for me. One, Dad would freak about his views, and two, I'm a moderate Democrat, so I'm not too extreme on the liberal side. Robert, a friend of mine, kept interjecting his two cents' worth into the conversation, and Devin, quite politely, kept booting him out of it. Anyways, we ended up making a date for breakfast a couple of weeks later, at the start of the Spring Quarter.
OUR FIRST DATE: Don't eat the biscuits and gravy!
Devin and I met for breakfast at the campus cafeteria, and seeing biscuits and gravy on the menu, I ordered that. Devin got the "heart attack special", which has eggs, meats, and pretty much everything is fried. The first bites were absolutely delish-- creamy, luscious chicken gravy, with bits of pepper like true Southerners would make it. Then my lips started to tingle and puff up a bit-- a sure sign that the gravy was made with something that had soybean oil in it. I have a slight allergy, and usually have puffy and tingling lips, and then a few hours later, gastrointestinal distress (let's leave it at that).
Anyways, the conversation flowed freely between Devin and I; we were as able to converse about everything as easily as we had the first couple of times we'd gotten together. I found out then about his son, Nythyn, and did express my desire to have "family style dates" with him and his son. He seemed especially pleased about this-- apparently a lot of women our age (Devin is one year, one month, and one day older than me-- his birthday is April 11, 1980, mine is May 12, 1981) don't want anything to do with him once they find out about his son. That's a total loss on their parts, Devin is a wonderful, caring man, and he's an excellent father. I don't think I've ever seen any young man that's a better Dad than he is. He's just great with Nythyn, and thankfully, Nythyn and I get along very well. He's apparently starting to see me as a maternal figure, because he only listens to me about half the time anymore! Anyways, we do have mostly family dates now-- we'll take Nythyn somewhere, and have fun together as a couple with a child. Nythyn needs to see that just because his father and I are together doesn't mean we're going to exclude him from anything. He's a joyful, adorable, sweet, boy, and I'm happy that both he and his father are in my life.
NEXT INSTALLMENT: Gettin' Busy in the Woods-- Our first time (camping!)
You see, Devin was with a group of his chemistry classmates-- all girls-- and one of them farted. She, like all females, was extremely embarrassed, and we somehow all began talking. Apparently, men have no such embarrassments, and feel free to fart with impunity. Devin was like, "Yeah, we just raise a cheek and fart away," which led to laughter from the whole group. I should've probably been totally turned off by this and wanted nothing to do with a man who has such a juvenile sense of humor, but I liked him then and there. Genuinely funny, extremely sweet, and able to talk about even the most embarrassing topics with humor....
I finished the thought for the term paper I was writing (my laptop was on the blink for the third time during finals), gathered my stuff, and had almost reached the door of the Applied Arts building when one of Devin's classmates came running after me. She asked for my contact information, and thinking Devin was a super stud at that point, I didn't mind giving it to her. I haven't regretted doing it since, either, and normally, I wouldn't do such a thing. I'd be turned off by a man who would ask in the first place!
The next week was the campus Tutor Madness session, where the college's Tutoring Center springs for pizza and drinks, and gets together professors from various departments to give people extra help before finals week. Devin also, in addition to being super stud, is a math tutor-- he's very gifted in Math, I'm gifted in English, so we balance out perfectly. We got to talking that night about everything-- I learned he's a relatively moderate Republican, which works for me. One, Dad would freak about his views, and two, I'm a moderate Democrat, so I'm not too extreme on the liberal side. Robert, a friend of mine, kept interjecting his two cents' worth into the conversation, and Devin, quite politely, kept booting him out of it. Anyways, we ended up making a date for breakfast a couple of weeks later, at the start of the Spring Quarter.
OUR FIRST DATE: Don't eat the biscuits and gravy!
Devin and I met for breakfast at the campus cafeteria, and seeing biscuits and gravy on the menu, I ordered that. Devin got the "heart attack special", which has eggs, meats, and pretty much everything is fried. The first bites were absolutely delish-- creamy, luscious chicken gravy, with bits of pepper like true Southerners would make it. Then my lips started to tingle and puff up a bit-- a sure sign that the gravy was made with something that had soybean oil in it. I have a slight allergy, and usually have puffy and tingling lips, and then a few hours later, gastrointestinal distress (let's leave it at that).
Anyways, the conversation flowed freely between Devin and I; we were as able to converse about everything as easily as we had the first couple of times we'd gotten together. I found out then about his son, Nythyn, and did express my desire to have "family style dates" with him and his son. He seemed especially pleased about this-- apparently a lot of women our age (Devin is one year, one month, and one day older than me-- his birthday is April 11, 1980, mine is May 12, 1981) don't want anything to do with him once they find out about his son. That's a total loss on their parts, Devin is a wonderful, caring man, and he's an excellent father. I don't think I've ever seen any young man that's a better Dad than he is. He's just great with Nythyn, and thankfully, Nythyn and I get along very well. He's apparently starting to see me as a maternal figure, because he only listens to me about half the time anymore! Anyways, we do have mostly family dates now-- we'll take Nythyn somewhere, and have fun together as a couple with a child. Nythyn needs to see that just because his father and I are together doesn't mean we're going to exclude him from anything. He's a joyful, adorable, sweet, boy, and I'm happy that both he and his father are in my life.
NEXT INSTALLMENT: Gettin' Busy in the Woods-- Our first time (camping!)
Friday, June 13, 2008
Dear Princess, RIP, We Mourn Your Loss
For the past three years, my family had a cat, Princess, that we adopted from the local Humane Society along with a kitten that had been placed with her, Simba. She wasn't the easiest cat to love, she neurotically used to lick and bite herself, probably due to a severe flea allergy, but possibly due to other causes. About a week ago, she was hit by a car, but not truly severe, or so we thought. On Tuesday, Mutterl took her to the vet for treatment, after feeling her leg and feeling that it was "dangling" in the socket. The next morning, they performed bloodwork to find out what exactly was the problem. Princess was found to have a fracture in her leg, and worse, found to have cancer of the mammary glands. Unfortunately, this cancer had spread throughout her small body, and her condition was terminal, she had MAYBE eight months to live with surgery, and even then, it wasn't certain that surgery would save her life or that she'd live any longer with it. The difficult decision was made, to put her out of any pain and misery that she was feeling, and to put the poor, rather unloved cat to sleep. I wish I could've been there, to hug her one last time, to hear her sweet purr, to let her know that she was so, so loved.
With Princess' loss, her death, I realize just how much I loved that cat, how special she was, as an animal, as a "friend". Her selfless service saved Simba's life, along with probably countless other kittens. You see, the Humane Society had been USING Princess as a "wet nurse" to who knows how many kittens. They may have even hastened and brought about her death by giving her hormones to keep her milk production strong that also stimulated the cancer which ultimately took her life from her. We may never know if this is the case, but if it was, I pray, I pray, that no other cat is used this way. Animals are not experiments, they should never be used so totally.
I remember that first day, when we went to look at Simba. Princess was literally "presenting" Simba, licking him and pushing him forward, in order to make the best impression possible. It was like she'd done that before, that she knew that she was only meant to be a servant, to only be used to foster other kittens and cats. I've never before seen a cat look "surprised" as she did, when we took not just Simba the kitten, but Princess as well. For the first time in her life, she had a home, she had a family that loved her. I remember taking her back to the Humane Society for a checkup preceeding her adoption, and seeing the poor cat look crestfallen, look so hurt, like "Why is my family abandoning me again? What did I do to deserve to be brought back here?"-- and moaning in obvious hurt and pain. I remember how "happy" she looked when we brought her back home again, when she realized that she truly did have a home.
Like I said, Princess was not the easiest cat to love. She was so starved for attention, so in need of care and love, but her fur was so hard to pet, due to the amount of sores and bumps and irritation. But whenever you'd pet her, she just radiated love, warmth, and contentment, her purr being so loud and proud and awesome. I'm just now realizing-- I loved this cat, and I miss her terribly. Her loss, her death being so alone, is hard to contemplate. Our other cats miss her just as much as we do-- Simba, with her being a constant companion, a constant playmate, is at a loss. He goes around, meowing, missing his "mother", and just acting as if a part of him is missing.
A part of us is-- a dear, dear, cat, who deserved much more than she ever received on this Earth. My only comfort comes in knowing that her spirit, her life, her body, is reunited with her God, in Heaven, and that the second she ceased to take breath on this Earth, our God in Heaven was welcoming her home to her eternal rewards. She's no longer in pain, she has the glorified body that her spirit on Earth always had. She's purring in the lap of God, and she's adored by all.
It has reminded me of one thing-- life is precious. Those that we don't realize we love, we do, and we'll miss them terribly when they're gone. I resolve one thing-- to never be unkind to another animal, to let all of our pets know how much I truly care for them. Let love be the legacy that Princess leaves behind, let there be love where tears were previously... this is a tough loss, but I know-- Princess is an angel in Heaven now, she's in a Paradise that none of us can know of, and she's being rewarded for all of the things she went through on Earth.
FINI
~MMH~
With Princess' loss, her death, I realize just how much I loved that cat, how special she was, as an animal, as a "friend". Her selfless service saved Simba's life, along with probably countless other kittens. You see, the Humane Society had been USING Princess as a "wet nurse" to who knows how many kittens. They may have even hastened and brought about her death by giving her hormones to keep her milk production strong that also stimulated the cancer which ultimately took her life from her. We may never know if this is the case, but if it was, I pray, I pray, that no other cat is used this way. Animals are not experiments, they should never be used so totally.
I remember that first day, when we went to look at Simba. Princess was literally "presenting" Simba, licking him and pushing him forward, in order to make the best impression possible. It was like she'd done that before, that she knew that she was only meant to be a servant, to only be used to foster other kittens and cats. I've never before seen a cat look "surprised" as she did, when we took not just Simba the kitten, but Princess as well. For the first time in her life, she had a home, she had a family that loved her. I remember taking her back to the Humane Society for a checkup preceeding her adoption, and seeing the poor cat look crestfallen, look so hurt, like "Why is my family abandoning me again? What did I do to deserve to be brought back here?"-- and moaning in obvious hurt and pain. I remember how "happy" she looked when we brought her back home again, when she realized that she truly did have a home.
Like I said, Princess was not the easiest cat to love. She was so starved for attention, so in need of care and love, but her fur was so hard to pet, due to the amount of sores and bumps and irritation. But whenever you'd pet her, she just radiated love, warmth, and contentment, her purr being so loud and proud and awesome. I'm just now realizing-- I loved this cat, and I miss her terribly. Her loss, her death being so alone, is hard to contemplate. Our other cats miss her just as much as we do-- Simba, with her being a constant companion, a constant playmate, is at a loss. He goes around, meowing, missing his "mother", and just acting as if a part of him is missing.
A part of us is-- a dear, dear, cat, who deserved much more than she ever received on this Earth. My only comfort comes in knowing that her spirit, her life, her body, is reunited with her God, in Heaven, and that the second she ceased to take breath on this Earth, our God in Heaven was welcoming her home to her eternal rewards. She's no longer in pain, she has the glorified body that her spirit on Earth always had. She's purring in the lap of God, and she's adored by all.
It has reminded me of one thing-- life is precious. Those that we don't realize we love, we do, and we'll miss them terribly when they're gone. I resolve one thing-- to never be unkind to another animal, to let all of our pets know how much I truly care for them. Let love be the legacy that Princess leaves behind, let there be love where tears were previously... this is a tough loss, but I know-- Princess is an angel in Heaven now, she's in a Paradise that none of us can know of, and she's being rewarded for all of the things she went through on Earth.
FINI
~MMH~
Monday, June 09, 2008
When Cheaters Win, We ALL lose!
The results of the election were not as favorable as I had hoped; the other candidate, Jonathan Mintz, who cheated to get onto the ballot in the first place, ended up WINNING the election. Now the whole mess, which had been "amusing", has now turned dead serious. Apparently last year, when Mintz also held the office and before a Finance Director was hired, he was engaging in some not-so-legal deeds as far as appropriations-- or in his case, misappropriations-- go. Money is missing from the college's Harvest Fest budget and several other places that he directly had his hands in. Whether or not he actually stole it is "under investigation", and has been forwarded to the Prosecuting Attorney's office and city attorney for "review". So even though young, sixteen year old Jonathan Mintz "won" office, he may never HOLD office, and he may in fact find himself behind bars. Obviously, he with all his brilliance has not figured out, "If you're gonna do it, at least be good enough not to get caught!"
I did want the office qutie badly, but to get it "by default" like this, or with the taint of the previous office holder being a thief, I'm not entirely sure I wanted it. I want my stepson (okay, so his father and I aren't married YET, but chances are, we will be eventually) Nythyn to see the best of me always, and not the sides of myself that are best hidden from view. He's a sweet, sweet kid that I feel a lot of love from, and I'm happy that both he and his father (Devin) are in my life. Love is a crazy beautiful thing, and also, a monster at times, but it's a monster worth living with. It's a monster with two heads-- one perfect, one not-so-perfect, and one that's both tame and wild. Love is, quite frankly, the best state one can find themselves in.
FIN
~MMH~
I did want the office qutie badly, but to get it "by default" like this, or with the taint of the previous office holder being a thief, I'm not entirely sure I wanted it. I want my stepson (okay, so his father and I aren't married YET, but chances are, we will be eventually) Nythyn to see the best of me always, and not the sides of myself that are best hidden from view. He's a sweet, sweet kid that I feel a lot of love from, and I'm happy that both he and his father (Devin) are in my life. Love is a crazy beautiful thing, and also, a monster at times, but it's a monster worth living with. It's a monster with two heads-- one perfect, one not-so-perfect, and one that's both tame and wild. Love is, quite frankly, the best state one can find themselves in.
FIN
~MMH~
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