Wednesday, March 28, 2012

What It Means When...

When all you feel is down when you write When a blog seems vindictive and full of a past that needs let go When your blog is read by people who don't have lives, and just want to criticize yours If those things are true, it's probably time to end your blog. Good luck, readers, and the best of life to you.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Completing the Puzzle

When the pieces

Came together, that last stubborn cardboard tease

Fell into place with a smug click

Smirking, "took you long enough

To find me"

I was awestruck.

I shook my head,

Barely able to believe

All the time spent, made me lose sight

Of the bigger picture

Caught up in sorting each scenario

Inside the entire scene.

But now it's there,

And I see the outcome

Of the endless task I undertook

And it has an end,

May have taken a while to get here

All the more reason to celebrate.

I gently glue

All the pieces into a frame

Mentally name this project

"A Season of Joyful Tragedy"

Hang it on the wall of learned lessons

And dive in on the next puzzle.

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Friday, March 16, 2012


His piercing blue eyes smile. Yes, eyes can actually laugh, and his do, as he makes a joke I'd love to roll my eyes at but I don't. As his arms encircle my body, his soft baritone voice assures me that I have his full affections, and perhaps always will.

Sometimes I think about all the girls he used to date, and I wonder how he slipped through all those adolescent fingers, until he came to mine. I brush my hands through his hair, and I'm glad that it's my privilege to hold him, to claim this amazing man as mine. Somehow, by a genius stroke of luck, I got the best gift life could offer me. In our mid twenties, it's a bit rare to find such a perfect match. I'd think all the good, handsome men would be snapped up quickly. But here I am, looking at the best of them all, inside and out.

When we first talked, it was with trepidation. I had meet him before. Tall, striking and quiet, my first impression of him was that he was sullen and proud. His lip ring and gauges made him look like a rebel sailor. He even grew his hair a little long and spiked it, something Navy men don't do. I was charmed, but not in the mood for a relationship, and pretty sure he was very taken.

But nope! He turned out to be interested in me, a thought I could hardly fathom. I don't see a lot of guys whose looks impress me, and the ones I do are often arrogant and rarely possess a good personality.

A good persona is definitely what he has. His compliments are many and sincere. My absolute favorite quality of his is that he can make me laugh when I'm set on having a low mood. If I'm anxious or embarrassed, he can put me at ease naturally, I'm a way no one has ever been able to. And he devotes generous, sweet words and gestures to me every day.

I realize some people aren't going to be impressed. But it's not necessary to post about it here. Because I'm not going to listen. I know I said kind things about other guys on this blog, and made it sound like things were great. But I was never so sure as I am now that I'm in the company of the man who is my near perfect match.

We like to stay up and watch seasons of 24. We cook amazing meals together. On nice days, we walk for miles and talk about our goals. Sometimes we just go on adventures. He works on our cars, and talks pretty constantly about the Mazda 3 that he wants to trade his mustang in for, one day. At night, we whisper about K.R.M. And sometimes, we hold each other as tightly as we can and hope that we'll never have to let go.

Yup, 2012 is my lucky year. The year that is changing my life from an average struggle to a beautiful adventure that I don't want to ever end.

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Thursday, March 15, 2012


Well, This is my first time blogging with an IPad! And, so far it's pretty super. The little on-screen keyboard works just like a real one. Not really what this post is about, but... I thought you would enjoy hearing about my fun new toy. I got it to help me publish pictures from my camera, and so far it far exceeds my expectations. Next week, our command has some special operations going on for about five days. The best thing about this is that I get an extended weekend. It will be the first since Christmas, and a much needed one at that. Since it has been in the upper eighties all week, I'm planning on hanging at the beach all weekend, getting some R & R, and prepping my house for a mom visit!!! Thats right, I finally talked my mom into coming to Florida for spring break. Who wouldn't Kill for that? Five days in paradise, pretty much. Spending time with the kid, drinking, going out, meeting a bunch of sailors, tanning every day, good southern food and reggae music. It should be a blast. I'm bursting with excitement. She got the tickets, and we both went wow, it's actually gonna happen. Yes! Let's hope Gabe is still here by then and can meet mom. This morning I took the E-4 advancement test. It was six in the morning when we started the test, and I finished at eight thirty. Not shabby... I think I got a decent score. The bad thing is that now I have to wait for may for the scores to come out. Here's hoping...I did get my NIOC ribbon, rocker, patch, and some other little Decors for my uniform. I really enjoy the rewards system of the military. :) Want to know what else in the military I love? Next month I should be getting LASIK eye surgery! The navy is paying for corrective surgery so I no longer have to wear contacts. This has me beside myself, but that's not all... This summer I'm also getting braces, courtesy of the navy. It's good to get all this out of the way while it's free, along with a bachelor degree and some extra schooling, not to mention great job training and skills for everyday managements and goal processing. This is by far the best job I could dream of for this time in my life. A few weeks ago, Gabe and I went to the local pet store. We met my future puppy, a little st Charles dog. He was absolutely the cutest thing I ever saw, cuddled up against us with sleepy eyes and little droopy ears... I want the baby so bad! I can't get him right now, I'm getting ready to go on a ship. But one day! Oh yeah. I might be getting re-stationed elsewhere in a few months. In fact, very likely. San Diego and Hawaii are my two top ports, but Japan is being offered as well. I'll keep you updated on that. And, that is all... Early day tomorrow,nfollowed by a weekend in which I shall finish a post I've been working on for a while, and hopefully some pictures took...!

Inside My Head, With a Rush of Golden Wings

First beach day of the season! Today after work, Gabe and I headed to Perdido Keys and set up camp, as it were. We have a public beach here, completely full of tourists and visiting grandkids, and probably a few gallons of pee in the water thanks to diapers, not little swimmers...but I live closer to a lovely private beach. The only drawback is that monstrous jellyfish are always washing up on shore, which is awesome, until you go skinny dipping in the dark. Even then, they are pretty cool, glowing and dancing around you. Just the horrific sting and welting are bad enough to make you wary of these mysterious wonders.

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Sunday, March 11, 2012

To a Man I Promised

This is more of an obligatory post, from my troubled soul. Normally if brought up, I would call this a closed subject. No one wants to bring up their past continually, relive it every time they get a chance. (well, I know a few people who do. But not me.) However, I have found that when something I'd like to deal with is struggled through on this blog, it brings closure to my mind and the matter is laid to rest.

Many things will probably never be understood to our full satisfaction. I know there are people, who I care about, who are left not knowing what happened in the event of one certain relationship that was supposed to last a lot longer than a year. Even for myself, and him, some things won't ever make sense. Not everything is black and white when you blur the lines with something as muddy as a breakup. If I could whip out a full confessional, and know that we would both only speak truth as we reflected on our history together, then I would be more hopeful for all the questions being laid to rest. But we are human and individuals, and too complex for a simple explanation. We may not even realize the amount of blame we each share in this situation. But I do my best to own up to my share of faults. There are more than faults, though, to break a contact such as marriage.

Family. This is the big one I want to address. Yeah, it's a really uncomfortable topic. I know my family is crazy. And very human. And a lot of the time, hard for you to put up with. But your grandma once shared a piece of wisdom with me that hit home, though she might not like the way I took it. She said that a partner may talk poorly about his or her parents in a moment of frustration, but the other partner must never talk badly about the same. You respect your partner's family even if they make you angry at times. That didn't happen. I always felt the need to 'lose my family' to make you happy. You really insulted my mom and sisters, and they reacted to that. In a really dramatic way. It forced me to make a choice that I regretted, and still do. You degraded my family to a place that I'm still working to heal.

And you told me that your family was the only family you would allow to see our kids, should we have them. That hurt. Your family has it together a lot more than mine, you insisted. Yeah, they seem to. But I was a foreigner. Some of them really tried, I know and it hurts to know that. Because as much as I appreciated the efforts, I always felt judged. I was the pretty one, but not smart like Kathy, not successful like everyone else... Nothing I did was right, and I heard about it. I'm not a confrontational woman, and I'm usually judged for that by women who are. It was a painful process, trying to earn my way into a group of people who obviously thought I was wrong for you. I guess they were right.

The men of your family were another story. I respect very few older gentlemen, and your dad and grandpa were among them early on. I grew up longing to trust men in the father role, and that was hard to come by in my childhood. I didn't feel judged, except by your brother, but instead I actually cared about your family because of the kindness I was shown by the fathers. So when you told me that your dad instantly blamed me for everything when he had heard nothing yet? Yeah, I was more than a little crushed. But that's an easy fix, because I was a fool to let my guard down and I can put it right back up.

Next: the Navy. This one seems to be a big one too. I kept hearing that boot camp visibly changes you physically, mentally, and emotionally. I scoffed a little because I went in older than your typical 18 year old recruit. I expected to gain some muscle, maybe improve some work ethic, but that was all. As we can both admit, that was not the case. I gained confidence in myself that I never, ever had. Confidence that you don't understand, and it scared and angered you. I came out if those 8 Weeks with a sense of purpose, direction, pride, and integrity. One if the first things I realized was that the things I'd been letting go in our relationship needed addressed. You didn't like that. I think if you had been able to go through what I did, things might have been drastically different for you. I wish you could go to boot camp. What I have from it, I want to see so badly in you.

Because that was another huge detriment. You talked so badly about yourself, I really felt you needed more help than I could offer. Your insecurity was such that I list all my guy friends and any close friends because of it. You felt threatened by girl friends even, that I would chose them emotionally, when you needed to be all I could ever need. That's not healthy. It also made it hard to see you as an equal. When you would say I was so much smarter than you, and more popular, and better in every way, it just made me sad, that you couldn't value yourself, and the more you enveloped that attitude, the more true it became. You let yourself go, and I saw the lack of motivation, caring. You didn't care about your grades, your social life, anything, as long as you didn't lose me. I can't handle that responsibility. I can't be what you needed. I don't want to take the blame for you doing out of college, but you handed me that blame anyway. And when you lost motivation that I had never lost, even when going through what most people would call hell, it almost made me feel stringer than you. Which is an awful thing to feel when you want your partner to be a man.

I guess there are other factors, enough to write a book. But those are the ones that I never confronted that mean the most and have been on my mind. I want so much to move on, and for you to have that luxury. That's why I dealt with the issue so firmly a few months ago. The carrying on was pulling us both into a depression. And you were becoming something I never knew you had in you. Something cruel, fake, and really hard to watch. I hope that you can work out your problems. When I told you, several times, how I was afraid things wouldn't work out, you assured me it was worth the risk to you, that you would let me go if it didn't work out, and that you only hoped we could at least still talk once it was over. I don't know. It could take years to be over. But at least for now we can take advantage of being young. And seize new opportunities. Both of us.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Campbell Compound Blues

What was supposed to happen:

A young Christian girl, home grown in the heart of Nebraska, sent to aid a sweety New Zealander with her heart mission of encouraging young mothers to lead a life of joy and happiness. My job was to help her ministry flourish, while providing a submissive, cheerful countenance and a willingness to serve her husband and children. It was the ideal situation; sheltered, volunteer work, biblical training, a woman of God serving men and their helpmeets.

What really happened:
Mr. Colin Campbell is used to getting his own way. He really doesn't question his position in the house. He simply assumes a full power authority, including over his wife, and treats everyone equally: like his attendants. He actually believes that anything he wants, he can order to happen and it will!

After church one day, I passed out with dizziness and fatigue. I was taken to the er, unconscious. As I slowly came to, I heard Mr. Campbell, loudly informing the doctors and nurses that this was all an act, that I was seeking attention and nothing more. He roughly shook me awake and ordered me out of the bed. Against the doctor's incredulous protests, I stumbled out to his car. He took me to his house, telling me that my next deceptive move would be faking a pregnancy. I was too out of it to protest his treatment, so he took that as a willing confession. I slept fourteen hours at his place, waking up in terror because I had somehow forgotten to breathe.

Mrs. Campbell is a very firm believer in the submissive role of the wife. I saw her, many times, come to Colin with a most valid point, only to be thoroughly shot down and treated like a nuisance. Her reaction to that was to quietly do her husband's will, and praise him for his keen mind. When he obviously knew nothing about a subject, say about a suicidal teen who just wanted to be believed, he would come to his own conclusion about what was really wrong. If the teen complained about her father abusing her, he instantly informed her that her misery was caused by her rebellion toward her father. No dad is perfect, and a girl should never question him. Because he is working under God's authority. Even if that means fingering his daughter in the night.

The Campbell kids. Namely, the girls... The girls all lived on their dad's land. And I got to know Pearl and Serene the best. Specifically Pearl. Serene was a very flaky, lively woman with way too much responsibility that she ignored. Several times I watched her 6 year old girl drop baby boy on his head, or her 2 year old boy step on nails and go unattended for most of the day. I stayed away from her house because horror was inevitable there.

I lived with Pearl, though. She was the most modern of the sisters. I wore her jeans and shorts, thrilled to wear pants for the first time in years. I watched star trek with her boys, and converted them into little trekkies. Her husband, a quiet, agreeable man, accepted me as one of his own little brood. I loved him.

But the girls were obsessed with their dad. In a really creepy way. One night, we went to supper at Colin and Nancy's. After supper, while Charlie (Pearl's husband) was out with the kids playing, Pearl curled up on her father's layup and kissed him on the lips. She lay in his lap for several minutes. I felt sick, and later asked her why she did that as a grown woman. She explained that although she WAS a mother now, she was still her dad's little girl, and she loved to please him by letting him hold his beautiful daughter. I wondered if it was strange that I felt so disturbed, but I never got over that.

When Colin decided that I was a habitual liar, he told the girls that I had infiltrated their children's pure minds and that they would do well to catch every lie the kids told, because the devil was now in the camp. And so I watched, as Pearl's 11 year old daughter, Serene's 8 year old son, and 6 year old girl were severely punished for presumed lies. Pearl's daughter agreed to do the dishes. When she got sidetracked, Pearl found her, called her a liar, and punished her. The daughter, one of the sweetest children I ever met, was very broken and confused-she hadn't lied, or hadn't meant to. And when Serene's son ran through her garden, she screamed that he could not go on a weekend outing planned Weeks before with his dad. He protested, saying he hadn't been running through to play, he was catching his brother. She then accused him of lying. His dad stripped him naked and beat him for several minutes. I was in shock with the brutality of the punishment, and all because of me. Or so Colin made it seem.

Evangeline was just...psycho. I didn't dare go near her house alone. Her pet wolf, Congo, has been known to bite the children, let alone adults. I once observed him kill Pearl's daughter's Dalmatian, as an 8 month pregnant Vangie danced in and out of the fight, pulling them apart with her bare hands, dogs snapping at her swollen belly. Inside her house was insane. She had a one room house. Eleven children! A king-sized bunk bed next to the kitchen sink. Mom, dad, and baby slept in the bottom bunk, and ALL ten siblings shared the top. She dominated her quiet husband, and raised her boys to be fierce, judgmental, and superior. The boys often struck their younger sister when they deemed she wasn't watching the baby well enough. It was seriously like stepping into a third world country. I always left in a daze, thankful for a bed of my own and a sense of personal space.

The  Campbells gave me quite an experience. The only person who treated me kindly was Charlie, and he was looked down on by everyone except Pearl. A few years later, in an interview, Colin described me as disturbed, mentally, a psychological liar, needing help, and yet he NEVER once attempted to give me any help while I was under his roof. He said that I had no respect for my father, but refused to believe me when I gave a very valid reason not to respect him. He pronounced himself one of the saaviest preachers of his time. Now he's producing a series of articles called Meat for Men. Heh heh.. He doesn't get out much.

The end.