An Agnostic Episode

Almost daily you will hear people around you pray for some sort of healing. "My dad is sick...my baby is sick...etc." I don't understand how a god that can heal you allowed you to get sick in the first place.
Recently, my mother and I conversed about this topic and she brought up the idea of freewill.  I explained to her that it is beyond my scope of understanding how god, a "father", would allow his child to be ill in the first place when he has the power to cure the sickness. I went a step further and said that the children that are in homes sustaining abuse do not have the freewill to stop the horrors that take place within their walls.  To them it is normal, it is life.
I'm sure someone will think me horrible for saying these things, but hey, that has never stopped me before...
I believe that god is a dead beat dad (if he exists at all).  He's not around.  We are basically left to our own devices.  I cannot kneel before a deity and beg him to do what is right and just.
Another thing you hear frequently is "god has a plan." Nobody knows that plan...it is a top secret plan but it involves children being born into poverty, abuse, and neglect.  One thing that incites people is learning that someone is fucking with a kid yet it happens over in over again and god seems to just turns the other way. God allows these things to happen all day, everyday and no one bats an eye.  This is not a god whom I want to have a relationship.  If he were a human standing before us, we'd all want him locked up but because he is a "deity" his behavior is justified and overlooked. Stop making excuses for him!

I know many will take offense to these statements but please understand. I have no desire to pass judgement on anyone. If your faith makes you feel complete by all means carry on. I am simply stating the things that I have trouble comprehending when it comes to deities. Unfortunately, my upbringing is influenced the most by Christianity. I have only read about other religions to try to understand my own personal path in life. I have yet to find one that feels right for me.
I would like to think that if judgement day ever happens, god would sit down with me, have a beer (or glass of wine), and explain to me all the things my constant questioning of existence failed to allow me to find.
To my friends and loved ones: when my days start to slip from reach, do not pray for me. Sit beside me, hold my hand, stroke my face. Tell me about a memory we shared. Maybe that will be the memory that brings a smile across my lips as I fade away into the nothing.

This Is Heavy, Doc!

Lately I suppose with all this talk of Time Travel Month over at Nuclear Headache (not to be confused with the cheesier version) so fresh in my brain, I’ve been thinking about all the things I would say to the teenage version of myself. Of course, all this weighing on it not causing the universe to implode or me disappearing from photographs a la Marty McFly style.


First and foremost, I would tell my past self that the one guy I decided to lose my virginity to was (and will always be) a complete tool and waste of oxygen. AVOID by all means! I’m sure many of you wish you hadn’t wasted your first time on such an ass. I’m not saying I should have waited until marriage necessarily (please don’t tell my future teenage daughter) but I definitely would have skipped over his dumb ass. As a rule of thumb, if his name forms an alliteration it’s probably because his mommy knew he was a joke even from the womb.

Another tidbit of information I would share with myself is that even though your family is obviously a bag of mixed nuts, things won’t always be so difficult and confusing. Mostly mom won’t always seem so psychotic. She just has no clue what she’s doing and she’s learning day by day. It’s a bitch (especially when you are the oldest) but it paves the way for her to learn from her mistakes. Whether she admits it to you or not, she doesn’t mean half the shit that comes out of her mouth. Try not to take her need to control everything at whatever cost personally. It will only cost you years of therapy…time you could be spending doing things you actually enjoy.

Also, your mom is going to tell you that those girls that were mean to you were just jealous of you. Oh my god! They SO were. Your C-cup (ok, and the fact that you were so much cooler than they were) made you comparable to the hooker in the movie “Love Potion #9” after she drank the concentrated potion. This is what I mean…


So don’t be sad. Just poke your chest out a little further and apologize to them for not being flat chested like them…as you steal their boyfriends. Just kidding….or am I?

After you get married, there will be this Puerto Rican woman that lives near you. She is going to tell you she is a witch and she knows you and your husband are having issues mostly because he is still extremely immature. She’s going to tell you to never give up on him even when things get really dark. You are going to think she is crazy (and you may be a little right) but being a little eccentric is what makes her so clairvoyant. She is also going to tell you there will be times you will have to be a bystander and not get involved in his growing up process to protect your soul and that of your child (who by the way you weren't even pregnant with just yet). Her words will always stay with you and the future you (aka me) is glad she didn’t throw the towel in as soon as things got messy.

Somewhat on the same topic, I would remind myself that other people’s setbacks do not mold you unless you let them. When you go through those dark times, keep your head up and push forward. No one is going to drag you out the hole where you risk ending up. Only you can prevent forest fires. No, wait. What I mean is, only your own strength can prevent depression and it IS inside of you even when you feel weak.

Another thing on a smaller note I would share is that when my family is evacuating from Hurricane Katrina (which by the way IS the infamous Big One the city of New Orleans has been fearing and the media has been wringing their hands impatiently waiting for), remind Mom to bring the photo albums and family videos or at the very least put them up high in a closet. So many memories will be lost if she doesn’t. Also, tell her to knock down the wall between the dining room and the living room just because it will save us all the headache of having to hear about it years later that she should have did it when they were remodeling after the storm.

One of the last things I would tell myself is simply; don’t forget how to be a kid. Your children will thank you for it.


Again, these things are all quips of knowledge I’d share with myself if there wasn’t a chance of causing horrible repercussions. I’m sure in the event that time travel is made available to the likes of everyday folks such as me; we can only hope scientists will know for sure the do’s and don’ts of traveling through time.

If travel was limited to observation, I would skip my past and observe more important times in history not involving myself like the building of the pyramids. I’d much prefer for the sake of observation, I could also remain unseen a la Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Then, I would DEFEINTELY go observe me some dinosaurs. I would also like to observe all of the questionable “god” appearances that different religions stake their claim to faith on.

Future Undetermined

For a little over a month, I had been keeping a journal.  I did it on a friend's suggestion that it would help me with the things I had been going through on an emotional level.  For nearly 30 days, I wrote my innermost thoughts.  Then I began to realize I don't want to dig that deep into myself.  With all the things that have been going on in my life in the past few years, diving that deep into my brain made me feel, well, depressed.  I would journal about certain topics and then feel shitty for the remainder of the day and sometimes into the next day.  I also felt that I kept continually rehashing the same things over and over and over again.  Anyone that knows me will tell you, me and emotions (especially sadness) are not very close.  Bring on the raging anger any day!  I don't do the tears...it feels like weakness and giving up to me.
So, now I decided what's best for me is to just scratch the surface.  I figure if I'm putting myself out there for all to see, I will express myself in a way that isn't so "poor me" which is more comfortable and true to life than what my journal was turning into.  I've decided that some things are better left inside your head...filed away deep in the back of your mind.  I know many arm chair psychiatrists and basement therapists will disagree but I'm going do what I feel is necessary and relevant to my life.
All those things said...on to the meat...
There is a very good chance my husband will be going away awhile for work.  I'm not looking forward to this at all but I look at it this way:

1. I have already dealt with two deployments.  The first one I did under very similar circumstances as right now and made it through.  The second was much easier.  I knew what to expect.  This time not only do I know what to expect, we are a little more financially prepared to handle whatever curve balls life throws our way.
2. Once he returns we will be much closer to being able to finally purchase a home.
3. We can get the debt monkeys off our backs.
4. We will have the opportunity to actually set aside a college fund for the kids.

I do not expect it to be a cake walk but I KNOW I can do this.  I know this because when backed into a corner the claws always come out!  When push comes to shove, I'm going to do whatever I need to do to move my family forward just like what my husband is doing.
He said in taking this job he will have a supervisor position on top of working directly under a three star general.  He said that if he can add that general as a reference on his resume in addition to all the experience he will gain going away, his career will be golden.  I hope he's right.
At this point, I'm ready to pray to any god, stick pins in a voodoo doll, light a candle or two, or sacrifice a goat just to ensure that this all works out to our benefit.  I'm just tired of struggling and having nothing to show for it.  I'm not some high maintenance person either.  When I say I want something to show for it, I mean I want a house.  And I'm not talking some five story mansion with an indoor pool and a mini movie theater.  I just want a quaint home on some land.  I'm not fond of neighbors...I'm not fond of people in general for that matter.  I want enough money to be able to pay my bills, put money on the side for my children to attend college, and have a little left over for minor upsets that arise from time to time and/or a little entertainment cash.  I don't need a yacht although a small boat would be nice.  I don't need a $50,000 vehicle...just a small vehicle that gets me from point A to point B when needed.  I want my kids birthdays and Christmas to roll around and not scrounge for pennies just to buy them a gift or two just so something is under our tree or next to their cake.
We will make it there someday and by my husband taking this job it feels within our grasp.  Hopefully in two years, I'll be able to blog about how everything worked out.  I must say though, many times I wonder what the hell I did in a past a life since nothing has seemed to go as we've planned.  I have my fingers crossed we have finally paid our debt to fate and now things will start to look up.  We shall see, won't we?

Friendships Wanted, Not Needed

Six months I've been here and I'm convinced no matter where you move people are either crazy or boring or both.  Making friends has never come easy to me...maybe I'm a snob.  If I think someone is a bore and/or a lunatic, I will go out of my way to keep my distance.  For some reason though, these people are drawn to me like bums to bus terminals.
It doesn't matter where I am, the check out line at the grocery store, the gas pump, or an airport bathroom, these individuals will talk to me and divulge the craziest things to me.  At first, this entertained me.  I felt complimented in a sense that I must put these people at ease in a way that they feel comfortable telling me about their issues.
Let me interject here.  When I say "crazy", I do not mean someone diagnosed with mental disorders.  At least when these people do something out of the ordinary, you can empathize.  No, I'm talking about these folks that seem to eat, sleep, and breathe drama.  I'm referring to those people that seem to go out of their way to invent problems just so they have something to entertain themselves.  To these people I say, find another hobby!!
Anyway...
For a long time (probably the first twenty or so years of my life), I didn't have any rules or regulations for a person to be my friend other than you couldn't be a total asshole.  I would talk and befriend anyone and it would remain that way until they did something to piss me off.  As time went on and my family and I relocated to Fort Hood, these lackadaisical stipulations proved to be more time consuming than previously anticipated. 
With deployments and loneliness running rampant throughout the base, spouses clung to different forms of companionship.  I chose the safe, platonic route.  At first, it was nice to have the company of other women.  I felt a bond with them due to our similar circumstances.  Little did I know the drama that would surround many of these females like the dust cloud that hovers around Pigpen from Peanuts comics.  Like I said, at first this entertained me.  It was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer or Maury Povich pan out right before your very eyes.  I wanted to grab a bowl of popcorn and sit back and enjoy the show.  That was until these loonies began including me in the craziness.  It was at that time I had to step back, take a deep breath, and say "Fuck. This."
After the military, we headed back to our hometown in New Orleans area on the good ol' Westbank which by the way was only supposed to be temporary.  It, unfortunately, turned into nearly two years.  During that time I stuck to the handful of people I knew who where a.) not boring, b.) not crazy, and c.) trustworthy.  Seriously when I say handful, I literally mean like five people, nearly half of which were family members.
On more than one occasion people would tell me how they didn't understand how I could cut myself off from others so easily.  I don't really see the problem.  Why should I befriend people who I don't really enjoy being around?  What?  Just so I can say I have oodles of friends??
Now we are in Oklahoma and I must admit I am a little lonely.  However, I'm not lonely enough to resort to being bored to death just for the sake of company.  I also will not participate in their drama just to be entertained...they have reality shows for that.   Also, I can't stand liars.  Furthermore while I believe fully in freedom of religion, I cannot be around someone who feels the need to "save" me.  I must be able to be myself 100% and the truth is I curse like a drill sergeant and I am completely random ESPECIALLY after a few drinks which I look forward to consuming at least one a week if not (and hopefully) more.
As you can see, I do think it's wise to have a hobby.  Everyone needs something to occupy their time.  So as for me, I'm going to blog my own thoughts and try to avoid falling into the same old habits.  Truth is, loneliness is a bitch and as much as I'd love to move into a cave somewhere, we both know it isn't going to happen.  So in the meantime, I'll keep my fingers crossed that one of these days in my trek around Texhoma, I'll actually come in contact with someone that can hold an intelligent conversation with me that doesn't involve gossip and rumors.  I won't hold my breath though.