forget the stillness

Silence of Solitude

In the quiet and in the stillness
I can hear Your voice
Reminding me of who I am
And what You are to me

I can hear angelic voices
Singing your praises
All of the heav'nly hosts are
Shouting worship to You, Lord

Scriptural puns

I am working on a post that may get up possibly before the end of 2011. If you're lucky. In the meantime, have some nice pictures. :)

a conversation with mommy

Hi, Mommy.

I'm your baby. You don't know me yet, I'm only a few weeks old. You're going to find out about me soon, though, I promise. Let me tell you some things about me. My name is John, and I've got beautiful brown eyes and black hair. Well, I don't have it yet, but I will when I'm born. I'm going to be your only child, and you'll call me your one and only. I'm going to grow up without a daddy mostly, but we have each other. We'll help each other, and love each other. I want to be a doctor when I grow up.

the desire for companionship

Yeah, we all have that desire. Since I came out to school, I've made marvelous friends. Don't get me wrong. I love them a lot and really enjoy their company. But there's still a loneliness.

ten years ago

On September 11, 2001, it was four days before my tenth birthday. I was super excited. Double digits, finally!

Since I was only in the fourth grade, we still got recess after lunch. Oh, those were wonderful days. It was a bright September day, and we kids were eagerly awaiting the chance to play outside and be noisy. We were kids, what can I say?

I've had the time of my life!

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I am officially one of those sleep-deprived people who generally populate campuses. I'm at school now! Yay! Mom and I left on Wednesday for Ohio and got in Thursday afternoon. It was about a nine hour drive. I'm in the apartment complex on-campus, so I have a kitchen! And a living room! And I don't have to share a bathroom with twenty other girls! My roommates are really nice. I'm really looking forward to getting to know them better. :)

a hard truth

I was going to name this post "THE hard truth", but I realized (thankfully before I posted it) that all truths are hard in some way or another. I wanted to confront something on Facebook that I see making the rounds occasionally.

new beginnings and ideas

Hey there all my rabid readers. If you didn't know, I actually am an authoress. (Is that even a word?) I have a separate blog at the moment for my writing that focuses on my current series, The Zephanaian Chronicles. (Go to the other blog to read more.) I am seriously considering consolidating the two blogs. I have reasons for this that I shall give you, and I'd like your input.

espionage, passion, and betrayal

I picked up Tamar: A Novel of Espionage, Passion, and Betrayal from the library recently. I like reading about World War II. Generally, I stick to stories of the Holocaust when picking my WWII books. However, I was browsing through the library and saw this one. The cover intrigued me, as did the blurb they released. Here is what they give you for this book:

youth of the nation

Last day of the rest of my life
I wish I would've known
Cause I didn't kiss my mama goodbye


I didn't tell her that I loved her and how much I care
Or thank my pops for all the talks
And all the wisdom he shared


Unaware, I just did what I always do
Everyday, the same routine
Before I skate off to school


But who knew that this day wasn't like the rest
Instead of taking a test
I took two to the chest


Call me blind, but I didn't see it coming
Everybody was running
But I couldn't hear nothing


Except gun blasts, it happened so fast
I don't really know this kid
Even though I sit by him in class


Maybe this kid was reaching out for love
Or maybe for a moment
He forgot who he was
Or maybe this kid just wanted to be hugged
Whatever it was
I know it's because


We are, We are, the youth of the nation


Little Suzy, she was only twelve
She was given the world
With every chance to excel


Hang with the boys and hear the stories they tell
She might act kind of proud
But no respect for herself


She finds love in all the wrong places
The same situations
Just different faces


Changed up her pace since her daddy left her
Too bad he never told her
She deserved much better


Johnny boy always played the fool
He broke all the rules
So you would think he was cool


He was never really one of the guys
No matter how hard he tried
Often thought of suicide


It's kind of hard when you ain't got no friends
He put his life to an end
They might remember him then


You cross the line and there's no turning back
Told the world how he felt
With the sound of a gat


We are, We are, the youth of the nation


Who's to blame for the lives that tragedies claim
No matter what you say
It don't take away the pain


That I feel inside, I'm tired of all the lies
Don't nobody know why
It's the blind leading the blind


I guess that's the way the story goes
Will it ever make sense
Somebody's got to know


There's got to be more to life than this
There's got to be more to everything
I thought exists


We are, We are, the youth of the nation


Watch the video here.


This is a song by P.O.D. They're a hard rock band. For some reason, I'm not a huge fan of most of their music. This song, however, Youth of the Nation, really strikes a chord with me.

The first verse is the victim of a school shooting. The second verse has a young girl desperate for love but looked in the wrong places and a boy who didn't think life was worth anything.

WE ARE THE YOUTH OF THE NATION.

We are the product of our society.

WE ARE THE YOUTH OF THE NATION.

We've pulled God out of schools. The Pledge of Allegiance is not allowed in schools because it has the name of God in it. We fill minds with meaningless blather about material stuff and never look within. We fill our ears with sound and eyes with visions of all sorts of things. We never slow down. We never stop to think about our inner needs as well as our outward needs.

WE ARE THE YOUTH OF THE NATION.

We are the result of a materialistic culture. Suicide is the third leading cause of death for young adults 15-24. School shootings aren't very common, thankfully, but they still happen and wreak devastation among the kids, parents, and communities. Girls and women sell their bodies to men and allow themselves to be used as toys for their pleasure, since the media constantly tells them that their bodies are the only worthwhile part of them.

WE ARE THE YOUTH OF THE NATION.

What kind of legacy is THAT?

-enna

looking to the future

Looking Out - on my DeviantArt
http://bit.ly/nto4mm

School starts soon. Kids hear the mournful bell of back-to-school shopping for all their supplies as well as the new clothes (since they've already outgrown the stuff they had gotten three months ago). Back-to-school feels different now.

For me, back-to-school this year means I'm outfitting an apartment. I'm transferring this year, and since there was no room left in the dorms for a junior, they stuck me into the student apartment complex on campus. So I need all kinds of stuff - kitchen supplies, bathroom supplies, cleaning supplies (most of my list of needs is cleaning supplies). We have minimal furniture - bed, desk, chair, rod, toilet, shower, two chairs, loveseat, stove, oven, sink, fridge, dining room set. Nope, no dresser. No bookshelves either. It makes it kinda fun.

It's much more like actually having a place of my own. Well, almost - I do have two roommates. But I get to choose how I decorate my room and how I want to keep house and all kinds of other fun stuff. Yet it's kinda scary. I'm not a kid anymore. I no longer will have my parents to depend on for groceries and help with tough decisions. I'm going to be three states away, living on my own, working fifteen hours and taking eighteen credit hours' worth of classes a week. (It isn't as heavy a load as I took first semester of senior year of high school, so that's a plus.)

Plus I'm going to try swimming again. Yay! I must admit, I've missed the water. You can take the fish out of the water, but you can't take the water out of the fish. Not only is this their inaugural swim team, but they have diving too. I've wanted to learn how to do fancy diving longer than I've wanted to be a competitive swimmer - I just need to convince them to teach me. ;) We'll see how much actual competitive swimming I do. I don't know how my shoulders will handle it.

This is the future I see looming in front of me. While I'm very excited, I'm also very nervous. I guess I have to have both ends of the spectrum. I don't know anyone out there, and I'll be three states away from my family and most of my friends. It's a huge step to go out like this, even if you're just going to a state college. And I'm out of state.

So I keep telling myself chin up! It'll be an adventure! New places, new people, new experiences. Plus it's not like I have no method of keeping in touch with anyone. I have a phone, a computer, a mailbox, paper and pens...I will be all right.

So I just need to keep looking out.

-enna

P.S. The picture puts me in mind of a story - but I don't know what it is yet. I'll let you know when I figure it out!

everybody's fool

Perfect by nature
Icons of self-indulgence
Just what we all need
More lies about a world that


Never was and never will be
Have you no shame? Don't you see me?
You know you've got everybody fooled


Look here she comes now
Bow down and stare in wonder
Oh how we love you
No flaws when you're pretending
But now I know she


Never was and never will be
You don't know how you've betrayed me
And somehow you've got everybody fooled


Without the mask where will you hide?
Can't find yourself lost in your lie
I know the truth now
I know who you are
And I don't love you anymore


It never was and never will be
You don't know how you've betrayed me
And somehow you've got everybody fooled


It never was and never will be
You're not real and you can't save me
Somehow now you're everybody's fool



This isn't really all that off a portrayal. We sure as heck know that women are objectified by the media. Nor are the images of women normally even what the model looks like. YouTube has ALL KINDS of videos like this one...just look at some of the ones they have on the sidebar. I have a question, media people.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH WHAT I LOOK LIKE?

What is wrong with what women look like?

What is wrong with what we ARE?

This isn't me! I am physically incapable of looking like that! And this is what someone who knows very little about the art of photo retouching did in half an hour. The real picture?

I didn't do anything to this one. It's from about a year ago.

Kinda scary, isn't it? We've brainwashed and blackmailed women and men into believing in a standard of beauty that just isn't possible. As such, women feel pressured to turn themselves into objects that only look pretty. We become everybody's fool because our faces aren't what they were. Plastic surgery, pancake makeup, teeth whitening...the list goes on and on.

Even I feel the pressure. I look at that retouched picture and wonder why on earth I even bothered. Quite frankly, it makes me feel terrible about myself. Women want to be admired and loved, and the fastest way to get anything remotely related to that type of attention is through our face. The media forces models and stars into terror that their image isn't perfect and that they must keep it up in order to keep their jobs. Even those of us who don't spend our every waking second on our looks feel the pressure.

The pressure to lie about who we really are and that we aren't perfect. Our faces aren't perfect, our figures aren't perfect, and our lives aren't perfect. I can't look like that. So I stand before you, an imperfect woman with imperfect looks, an imperfect body, and a really messed-up life.

But I won't let the media turn me into everybody's fool.

-enna

there was an old lady who swallowed a fly

This was a post I wrote for a psychology discussion board. (And yes, it was classified under philosophy for my blog posts. Ignore that and move on.) Our assignment was to take a nursery rhyme and apply the theories of personality - the chapter we just had to read - to that nursery rhyme. And we were supposed to include the rhyme for our classmates. I chose "There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly". Nice, cheery topic. We also had to explain the theories, so this will actually make sense to non-psychology students who read my blog! Yay!

Anyway, enjoy! :)

There was an old lady who swallowed a fly.
I don't know why she swallowed the fly,
I guess she'll die.


There was an old lady who swallowed a spider,
that wiggled and wiggled and tickled inside her.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why she swallowed the fly.
I guess she'll die.


There was an old lady who swallowed a bird.
How absurd to swallow a bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
that wiggled and wiggled and tickled inside her.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why she swallowed the fly.
I guess she'll die.


There was an old lady who swallowed a cat.
Imagine that, she swallowed a cat.
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
that wiggled and wiggled and tickled inside her.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why she swallowed the fly.
I guess she'll die.


There was an old lady who swallowed a dog.
My what a hog, to swallow a dog.
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat.
She swallowed the cat, to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
that wiggled and wiggled and tickled inside her.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why she swallowed the fly.
I guess she'll die.


There was an old lady who swallowed a cow.
I don't know how she swallowed a cow.
She swallowed the cow to catch the dog.
She swallowed the dog, to catch the cat.
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
that wiggled and wiggled and tickled inside her.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why she swallowed the fly
I guess she'll die.


I know an old lady who swallowed a horse...
She's dead of course!
-Words by Rose Bonne

~~

Maybe I have a morbid sense of humor, but the moment I saw "nursery rhyme", "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly" popped into my head. If Alfred Adler were to look at this crazy old lady who thinks that she should eat a bunch of animals, he'd probably think, "AHA! Perfect proof for my birth order theory!" According to his theory, birth order affects personality. The eldest is an over-achiever in an attempt to reclaim the affections of the parents, the middle child gets to both boss little siblings around and knock the eldest off the high chair (literally and figuratively), and the youngest is protected and coddled and ends up with low self esteem.

Our little old lady who apparently couldn't stop eating weird things was obviously suffering from eldest child problems. She felt inferior to her sister, the lady who lived in a shoe, and so felt the need to compensate. For lack of originality, she decided to swallow a fly. But that wasn't very comfortable (and her sister remained unimpressed) so she swallowed a spider. That was even WORSE! So she kept going and going and going...until it was too late and "She's dead, of course!" after trying to eat a horse. Poor lady.

She also probably had a neurotic personality that Karen Horney talked about. According to Horney, children are born with "basic anxiety" because the world is so much bigger than they are. If parents bestow love, affection, and security on their children, then they will most likely overcome their basic anxiety. If not, the children will develop neurotic personalities. This means that they could become dependent and clingy, or aggressive, demanding, and cruel, or withdrawal from other people. This lady became so dependent on the good will of her parents that she was willing to go to crazy lengths to solidify her position with them, including eating a cat and a dog. Neuroses are strange things indeed.

Now you'll probably never look at that little old lady the same way again.

-enna

never gonna be alone

You're watching the video first. No questions, no skipping. Once you watch the video, you may continue to the rest of the post.



Time, is going by, so much faster than I
And I'm starting to regret not spending all of here with you
Now I'm wondering why I've kept this bottled inside
So I'm starting to regret not selling all of it to you
So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know


You're never gonna be alone from this moment on
If you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall
You're never gonna be alone, I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone


And now, as long as I can, I'm holding on with both hands
'Cause forever I believe
That there's nothing I could need but you
So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know


You're never gonna be alone from this moment on
If you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall
When all hope is gone, I know that you can carry on
We're gonna see the world out, I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone


Oh, you've gotta live every single day
Like it's the only one, what if tomorrow never comes?
Don't let it slip away, could be our only one
You know it's only just begun, every single day
Maybe our only one, what if tomorrow never comes?
Tomorrow never comes


Time is going by so much faster than I
And I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you


You're never gonna be alone from this moment on
If you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall
When all hope is gone, I know that you can carry on
We're gonna see the world out, I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone


I'm gonna be there always
I won't be missing a word all day
I'm gonna be there always
I won't be missing a word all day

~~

This video makes me want to cry. I kid you not. I'm not a crier; not sure if I've stated it before, but I generally don't cry unless something's bottled up inside that I finally let out. (Or my hormones are doing their wonky dance thing. But I don't count that.)


How often have you wished that you would never be alone? Who doesn't wish at some point in their lives that someone would be there for them, no matter what happened? We are always looking for someone who will be there for us through thick and thin, richer or poorer, sickness or health. Someone who won't give up on us no matter what. Someone to believe in us even when, quite frankly, we don't believe in ourselves.

Calvin has Hobbes. Peanut butter has its jelly. Pen has paper. Left has right. Yes has no.

We all have the desire to find our jelly. I'm not referencing to the sandwich, I mean the soul mate type stuff. (Note here that I'm not talking about soul mates, it's just similar to what I'm referencing.) We are social beings and we desire human contact.

And we'll never be alone. We all have friends and family who stand by us no matter what happens. These people love us and care for us. It doesn't matter how many times we mess up. I know I do so over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over *takes a breath* and over and over and over and over and over and over...yet my family and friends love me anyway. And believe you me, I've had some really bad screw-ups. (Ok, they could be a lot
worse, but for my circle they're pretty bad.)

Your family and friends will love you no matter what. If your friends don't, then they weren't really friends in the first place. But your family will always love you and be there for you. Even if you feel lower than dirt, someone, somewhere loves you. And if you aren't in a good family situation, Someone still loves you. And He'll never make sure you're never alone.

-enna

graphic designers, quit complainin'

As I'm sure you've noticed, I've been experimenting with backgrounds a lot lately. I'm trying to come up with something that isn't too busy with a base dark color - it's easier to read electronically when you have light text on dark backgrounds versus the opposite. Anyway, while I liked the last background, it was too busy. So, this is my "holding" background while I make another attempt to come up with something simple and easy-to-read.

Which means, graphic designers, please stop complaining to me. I WILL FIX IT! I PROMISE! Just not today.

-enna

philosophy of swans

I'm sure you're asking, "Why swans?" "It's a pretty bird. Whoop-dee-doo." "How can a BIRD have PHILOSOPHY?"

The swan is a symbol. It is no longer just a white bird. It depicts innocence, beauty, gracefulness, love, and gentleness. (Though I don't understand the last...swans can be almost as mean as geese.)


Before I start pondering swans as symbols of our culture, I'd like you to read a story. It's not one I wrote, sadly. I was reminded when I read The Swan Kingdom by Zoe Marriott. Her novel was based on a Hans Christen Anderson story, which in turn was based on one of the Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm, which happens to be one of my favorite Grimm fairy tales (though if hard-pressed, I'd say almost every one of them was my favorite, and I've read all of them). If you'd like to read it, go here to read it. I typed it out and stuck it in a separate blog post so that this one wouldn't be ridiculously long with both a short story AND a philosophical bent.

First off, how many of you have actually seen a swan in the wild? Ok, sure, they're pretty. But SERIOUSLY? These birds can be as bad as geese! They bite, chase, and aren't afraid to use their wings as weapons. This seems more like a role model for a "innocent in appearance but unafraid to kick butt" (excuse me) type character, not purity and innocence.

So why do we associate swans with purity and innocence? Well, how often do you see someone turned into a BLACK swan? Think about it for a second. Whenever a good guy is turned into a swan by a bad guy (The Swan Kingdom, The Swan Princess, Swan Lake, to name a few), they become WHITE swans. Not black. So apparently it's the white that is the key. But aren't doves white too? (I'll go ahead and answer that.) Yes, they are. But doves don't look nearly as majestic as swans. Plus, swans are bigger.

So, now apparently the question is, "Why white?" Why should purity be represented by dignity? After all, a bride wears white to signify her purity. (Granted, this is in Western culture - in the Middle East, brides wear red. But that's another story for another day when I've actually had a chance to research said cultural difference.) I'll list some reasons that I think white is used...if you think differently, or have additions, feel free to add them!

>White is clean. That first snowfall looks so crisp and beautiful, pristine in its glittery white coldness. Yellow snow just doesn't have the same clean feel to it. (That may be because of what CAUSES yellow snow, but muddy snow doesn't have the same effect either.)

>White is pure. Think about the color for a second. When you have blue, and a little smudge of red and mix it together, it's still blue, just a slightly different shade. If I take that same little smudge of red and mix it with the white, I now have pink. No more white.

>White is clean. I know I've said this already, but colors show up differently when placed against white. They look more drastic, far more different than when placed in an environment. The cleanliness makes it easy to see when a white shirt gets the barest stain, or when a white lamb rolls around in the mud.

The cleanliness and purity of white make it an ideal color to represent purity and innocence (which could be loosely described as the cleanliness of the mind and spirit). While generally purity is represented in symbolism by a white rose, it's rather difficult to move around and seek a way to return to human form if you're a rose. Hence the swan.

Or at least, that's what I think. I could be totally off my rocker, but that's OK. At least I admit it's a possibility.

-enna

the six swans

This is the fairy tale by the Grimm brothers that was later the basis for a Hans Christen Anderson story. So no, I didn't write this, but I love this story. I hope you enjoy!
-enna

The Six Swans

Once there was a king who was hunting in a vast forest, and he began chasing a deer so intensely that none of his men could follow him. When evening drew near, he stopped, looked around him, and realized he was lost. He searched for a way out of the forest but was unable to find one. Then he caught sight of an old woman, nodding her head back and forth and heading toward him. She was, however, a witch. 

Tolkienmaster - The Six Swans

"Dear  woman," he said to her, "can you show me the way out of the forest?"

"Oh, yes, Your Majesty," she answered. "I certainly can, but on one condition, and if you don't fulfill it, you'll never find your way out of the forest, and you will starve to death."

"What kind of condition?" asked the king. 

"I have a daughter," said the old woman, "who is as beautiful as any maiden in the world. Indeed, she is worthy to be your wife, and if you make her your queen, I'll show you the way out of the forest."

The king was so tremendously frightened that he consented, and the old woman led him to her little hut, where her daughter was sitting by the fire. The maiden greeted the king as though she had been expecting him, and he observed that she was very beautiful. Nevertheless, he did not like her, and he could not look at her without secretly shuddering. After he had lifted the maiden onto his horse, the old woman showed him the way, and once the king reached the royal palace again, the wedding was celebrated. 

The king had already been married before this, and he had seven children by his first wife, six boys and a girl, whom he loved more than anything in the world. Since he now feared that the stepmother might not treat them well and might even harm them, he brought them to a solitary castle in the middle of a forest. It lay so well concealed and the way to it was so hard to find that he himself would not have found it if a wise woman had not given him a ball of yarn with magic powers. When he threw the ball before him, the yarn unwound itself and showed him the way. 

Now, the king went out to visit his dear children so often that the queen began to notice his absences. Since she was curious and wanted to know what he was doing out in the forest all alone, she gave his servants a great deal of money, and they revealed the secret. They also told her about the ball of yarn that alone could show her the way. For a while she had no peace of mind, but she finally discovered where the king kept the ball. Then she made small white silk shirts, and she used the witchcraft that she had learned from her mother to sew a magic spell into them. 

One day when the king had gone hunting, she took the little shirts, went out into the forest, and let the ball of yarn show her the way. When the children saw someone coming in the distance, they thought their dear father was coming to see them and ran joyfully out to greet him. But she threw a shirt over each one of them, and as soon as they were touched by the shirts, they were turned into swans and flew away over the forest. The queen went home delighted with herself, thinking that she was rid of her stepchildren. However, the girl had not run outside with her brothers, and the queen knew nothing about the girl. 

The following day the king went to visit his children, but he found only the girl. 

"Where are your brothers?" the king asked. 

"Oh, dear Father," she answered, "they've gone away and left me alone." And she told him how, from her window, she had seen her brothers turn into swans, and how they had flown away over the forest. Then she showed him the feathers that they had dropped in the yard and left for her to gather. 

The king mourned for his sons but had no idea that the queen had done this evil deed. Yet, he did fear that his daughter might also be stolen from him, and he wanted to take her with him. However, she was afraid of the stepmother and begged the king to allow her to spend one last night in the forest castle. I can't stay here any longer, the poor girl thought. I shall go and search for my brothers. 

When night came, she fled the castle and went straight into the forest. she walked the whole night long and the entire next day without stopping, until she became so exhausted that she could go no farther. Then she saw a hut, and after entering it, she found a room with six small beds. Since she was afraid to lie down in any of the beds, she crawled underneath one and lay down on the hard floor, intending to spend the night there. However, just when the sun was about to set, she heard a rustling sound and saw six swans come flying through the window. They landed on the floor and blew at each other until all their feathers were blown off. After that their swan skins slipped off like shirts. The maiden observed all this, and when she recognized her brothers, she rejoiced and crawled out from under the bed. Her brothers were delighted to see their little sister, but their joy was short-lived. 

"You can't stay here," they said to her. "This is a robbers' den. When they come home and find you here, they'll kill you."

"Can't you protect me?" asked their sister.

"No," they replied. "You see, we can take off our swan skins for only a quarter of an hour every evening. During this time we assume our human form, but after that we're changed back into swans."

Their sister wept and asked, "Can't you be set free?"

"We don't think so," they said. "The conditions are too hard. You'd have to go six years without speaking to anyone or laughing, and during this time you'd have to sew six little shirts for us made of asters. If just one single word were to fall from your lips, then all your work would be for naught."

Nevertheless, the maiden decided to set her brothers free, even if it might cost her her life. She left the hut, went into the middle of the forest, climbed a tree, and spent the night there. The next morning she got down, gathered asters, and began to sew. She could not talk to anyone, nor did she have a desire to laugh: she just sat there and concentrated on her work. 

After she had spent a long time there, the king of the country happened to go hunting in the forest, and his huntsmen came to the tree where the maiden was perched. They called to her and said, "Who are you?

She did not answer. 

"Come down to us," they said. "We won't harm you."

She merely shook her head. When they continued to bother her with questions, she threw them her golden necklace and thought that would satisfy them. Yet, they persisted. Then she threw them her girdle, and when this did not work either, she threw down her garters and little by little everything that she had on and could do without until she had nothing but her little shift. Still the huntsmen did not let themselves be deterred by all this. They climbed the tree, carried her down, and led her to the king, who asked, "Who are you, and what were you doing in that tree?"

She did not answer. He tried questioning her in all the languages he knew, but she remained as silent as a fish. Eventually, her beauty moved the king's heart, and he fell deeply in love with her. He covered her with his cloak, lifted her onto his horse, and brought her to his castle. There he had her dressed in rich garments, and her beautiful features were as radiant as the day is bright. Still, it was impossible to get her to utter a single word. He had her sit next to him at the table, and her modest ways and her polite manners pleased him so much that he said, "This maiden is the one I shall marry and no other woman in the world except her."

Within a few days he married her, but the king had an evil mother, who was dissatisfied with this marriage and spoke ill of the young queen. 

"That wench! Why won't she speak?" she said. "Where does she come from? She's not worthy of a king."

A year later, when the queen gave birth to her first child, the old woman took the child away from her and smeared the queen's mouth with blood while she was asleep. Then the old woman went to the king and accused the young queen of being a cannibal. The king refused to believe this and would not tolerate anyone harming his wife. Meanwhile, the queen continued to sit and sew the shirts, and did not pay attention to anything else. 

The next time, she gave birth to another handsome boy, and her wicked mother-in-law tried the same deception, but the king could not bring himself to believe the charges brought against his wife. 

"She's too pious and good," he said. "She'd never do anything like that. If she could talk, she could defend herself, and her innocence would come to light." 

However, when the old woman stole the third newborn baby and accused the queen, who did not say one word in her own defense, the king could do nothing but hand her over to a court, which condemned her to death by fire. 

The day came for the sentence to be carried out, but it was also the last day of the six years during which she had not been allowed to speak or laugh. Indeed, this meant that she had set her brothers free from the power of the magic spell. The six shirts were finished except for the left sleeve of the last shirt. When the queen was led to the stake, she carried the shirts over her arm, and as she stood on the stack of wood and the fire was about to be lit, she looked up and saw the six swans come flying through the air. Now she knew that her rescue was near at hand, and her heart jumped for joy. The swans swooped down and landed close by so that she could throw the shirts over them. As soon as the shirts touched them, the swan skins fell off, and her brothers stood before her in the flesh. They looked handsome and vigorous. Only the youngest was missing his left arm, and he had a swan's wing on his shoulder instead. They embraced and kissed each other, and the queen went up to the king, who was quite stunned by all this. 

"Dearest husband," she said. "Now I may speak and tell you that I'm innocent and was unjustly accused."

She told him how the old woman had been deceiving him and had taken away her three children and hidden them. Then, to the king's great joy, the children were brought to him, and as a punishment the wicked mother-in-law was tied to the stake and burned to ashes. Thereafter, the king and queen, along with her six brothers, lived for many years in peace and happiness.

ye olde english faire

So, I just found out that there's an Olde English Faire this weekend nearby. My initial reaction?


"HECK YES THIS IS AWESOME!!!"


I'm a BIG fan of everything medieval...especially swords. Swords are awesome. Something I do occasionally when I feel the need to prove my geekiness is pull out my catalog of swords, armor, and other such medieval things (yes, I actually have one...you can order one for yourself here, and the catalog is much more interesting looking than the website, plus it's free). This stuff is FULLY FUNCTIONAL (well, most of it...the stuff that isn't is far scarcer than that which is) and AWESOME. Sorry, geek moment. I just wish I had enough money to buy out the store...or heck, just buy myself a sword. Because that would be THE BOMB.

Anyway, I did put this under "philosophy" for a reason, and I promise it wasn't to rant and rave about how much I am a fan of medieval things like this. Granted, I probably COULD fill an entire post with nothing but that and my fascination with swords, but I'd probably bore you all to tears.

No, this made me think...why are we modern folk so fascinated with the Middle Ages? Or the Renaissance, or Elizabethan times (think Shakespeare). We don't see people reenacting the Industrial Revolution, or the genesis of the computer. Generally speaking, the most "modern" reenactments we see are those from World War II. No Cold War, no Vietnam War, no Korean War. Why are we so fascinated with the past?

We get taught history so that we can see what men before us have done and not mess up like they did. (I mean, Hitler? Really? Didn't you pay attention to what happened to Germany in World War I? And Saddam Hussein, didn't you pay attention to what happened to Hitler? Really, gentlemen...let's use our brains here...) Anyway, when we do our Renaissance fairs and Ye Olde English Faires, we're not reenacting some famous battle. We're visiting a slice of history from a time when chivalry was actually popular, when life was simpler and men gallant. We're taking a peek at a society that passed one thousand years ago.

Their life wasn't easy. Most people were serfs, the feudal equivalent of slaves. They toiled and worked themselves to the bone, and gave most of the fruits of their labor to their overlord, who was probably a vassal for someone else. They didn't have medicine, so simple little diseases were much more deadly. And can you imagine childbirth? They didn't have running water, or indoor bathrooms. They couldn't go to the grocery store and buy flour to make bread; they had to grow, harvest, thresh, and mill the wheat before they could even think about making bread. They didn't have electricity or internet. They got up with the sun and went to bed with it.

But we don't see this when we go to our fairs. We see the idyllic, the pretty, the romantic. We see the good aspects without having to look at the other parts. Life expectancy was low. Women were married when they were 12, 13, and 14. Most of them died in childbirth. Children weren't expected to live to adulthood.

I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with our Renaissance fairs, or the Olde English Faires. Heck, I'm going to do my best to get to the faire this weekend. What I'm saying is that we should look at these fairs, and what they do present - a simple, honest life of chivalry and respect - and apply them to our crazy, over-busy lives. We have the advantages of electricity, running water and advanced forms of communication, but we can  look at their simpler lives and take a break from our own crazy lives.

 -enna

changes should come?

Hey all, this is something I've been considering and would like your input on. I've been told by multiple people that the web address of the blog is kinda long and unwieldy. However, this would be the third web address change the blog has undergone in its four years. Is this where it should stop? Or should I change it one last time?

Keeping this in mind, while I'm making major changes, I'm also debating changing the name of the blog. I don't have any real candidates in mind yet. But I don't think that "the good and the bad" is really an apt title for what happens here anymore. This blog used to be a diary of sorts where I talked and vented about what was going on in my life. Now, it's become an entirely different animal. I don't post much about my personal life - except when it interferes with my posting. I write reviews of books, movies, songs. I analyze and over-analyze things that most  people don't really stop to think about. I write thoughts that pop into my head.

Which, while it may be more interesting to you, doesn't really fit the name "the good and the bad". Something like "A Wanderer of Life: Thoughts of a walker on the path of life" is closer to what the blog is becoming.

So please, give me your input. This affects you, the readers, the most. Vote in the poll on the left, and also in the comments. I will count both when I tally the points. You could also offer suggestions for both web address and title in the comments.

-enna

nameless story

I was going through my story archives the other day, and found this little thing. I wrote it when I was 14 or 15 for kids in kindergarten through second grade, or thereabouts age-wise for a read-aloud. It made me laugh that I wrote something this silly, and I thought that you, my faithful readers, would appreciate some of the silliness of a 14 year old writing this fairy tale for young kids. Maybe you need a laugh, but I hope you enjoy!

Oh, and it's nameless because I could never come up with a name for it. If you think of a title, feel free to post it for me in the comments!

-enna

Once upon a time, there was a castle with many people visiting. There were dukes and barons and princes and lords, and they all wanted to marry Princess Anne of Dazzlemetodeath. I am pretty ordinary, so I don’t know why they all wanted to marry me. Yes, I am Anne of Dazzlemetodeath. I was 19 at the time of this story, and I can remember as if it was yesterday...

I wasn't the slightest bit interested in the valor and honor and bravery of my suitors. I wanted to know if they had compassion, mercy, kindness, and the respect of the peasants. So I came up with a plan. I normally would eat my luncheon by myself, so it wouldn't be hard to fool them.
I borrowed the outfit of one of the kitchen maids, and became a waitress for the suitors. Duke Malus, Baron Wantmore, Prince Nuthouse, and Lord Lookatme were the only ones left. The rest I had already turned down. However, there was one person at the table that day who did not have a title. A man had come to the doors, asking if he could see me. The servants had told him that he could see me after lunch, and would he please eat with the other suitors. I would see him with the others when I rejected the ones I was displeased with. He said that was fine, and his name was Jesse.
When I came in, bearing the pheasant that was lunch, Duke Malus started laughing at Jesse, who was gaping at the bird I was carving. “Country boy, shut your mouth. If the Princess Anne hears of your awful table manners, then you will be booted out of this castle.”
Baron Wantmore sneered in my face when I only gave him one slice of meat. He snarled in my face, “I may be eating a bird, but I do NOT have a bird’s stomach. Give me AT LEAST one more piece, and it had better be thicker than this one.”
Prince Nuthouse laughed in my face, and then took his plate and shoved it in my face! Then he took spoonfuls of the mashed potatoes and flung them at me.
Lord Lookatme made him stop, but then was ungrateful when I only said thank you once. “Girl, you ought to be thanking me more than that! I just saved you from a nut case!”
Jesse, finishing his food quietly, asked me politely, “Please, may I have some more of the potatoes and roast pheasant?” I gave him what he had asked for willingly, and when I came over with his refilled plate, he said thank you and gave me his napkin to clean my face with.
If it had been one of my older sisters, they would have taken one of the titled men, even though they were horrible. I didn't even have to think about who was going and who was staying. I left and changed back into my clothes after I got all the mashed potato off, then had the five men come in. The servant introduced Jesse, and I managed to act like I had never met him before.
I looked at Duke Malus first. “Duke Malus, I regret to say it, but you need to return home. I thank you for the pleasurable time we had together.”
Baron Wantmore was next to go. “I thank you for your time and courtesies, Baron Wantmore, but I think you will be happier if you return to your own castle.”
Before I told Prince Nuthouse to leave, I had the guards come in and restrain him. “Nuthouse, my friend, you could do much more for your country if you were home.”
I was glad for the guards, because the prince lunged out of anger and tried to get at me. The guards dragged him out, and I was left with Lord Lookatme and Jesse. “Lord Lookatme, I hate to say this, but your children are ill and you must return home to them.” I had found out that he was a widower at the luncheon, and a messenger had come and said they were ill, so I had a wonderful excuse! He simply turned purple from rage and left.
Jesse was the only one left. “Jesse, at the luncheon, you were the only one that showed compassion and kindness to me. I…”
“Princess, how do you know I showed compassion or anything at the lunch? You weren't even there. I showed compassion to a kitchen maid. I've never even met you before!”
“Oh, but you have, Jesse. You see, I was that kitchen maid. I was trying to find out what my suitors were really like. You can imagine that they would be on their best behavior when I was around.”
Jesse looked kind of shocked, so I showed him the napkin he had given me to clean myself up with. “Jesse, a young man with every element a king should have gave this to me while I was serving the suitors who were trying to win my hand. That same man managed to keep his poise amongst some of the meanest people I have ever laid eyes on.”
I smiled, and Jesse smiled back. I figured he knew who I was talking about, so I asked him why he had wanted to see me. He turned bright red and mumbled, “To ask for your hand, but I supposed you would laugh in my face. Would you marry me?”
“One thing first, Jesse.” He looked surprised. “Do you want your napkin back?”
We laughed, and left the room to find my father comparing words that would describe Duke Malus, Baron Wantmore, Prince Nuthouse, and Lord Lookatme.

So, now I have two beautiful daughters who know what to look for in a man (NOT the title), a wonderful husband, and Dazzlemetodeath is in good hands. I suppose you could say that we lived happily ever after. (Happier, anyway, than the other suitors did.)

confessions

By the way, this post isn't safe for little eyes. If you don't want to have to explain some things to kids, don't let them read it. But I felt that I needed to post this.

Well, it's only really one confession, but there's lots of little things that tie into it. So let's go way back to last summer, about one week before I left for Catholic Heart Work Camp...

Anyone eighteen or over had to go through Protecting God's Children, which is a course to make adults in charge of children or working with children aware of the warning signs and dangers of child sexual abuse. So I got to go through this wonderfully fun course as well. Fortunately, what was supposed to be a 4-6 hour training was only 2.5 or 3 hours long...only two of us were taking the course because I needed before leaving for CHWC the next week.

Before I keep going with my story, I'd like to share some stats with you. Approximately one in six women are victims of some kind of sexual assault at some point in their lives. Fifteen percent of these victims are under the age of 12. As for the people who perform the crime, 60% are never reported to the police, and fifteen out of sixteen never spend a day in jail. And two thirds of them were known by their victims.

Some pretty bleak statistics there. Gotta love being reduced to a statistic.

Because I'm one of the fifteen percent. And one of the the one in six. And my abuser one of the fifteen.

So, how does it feel to be in that statistic? Quite frankly, it feels dirty. Something that the website doesn't mention, but that the Protecting God's Children workshop and my own experience shows, is that we take the blame on ourselves. It wasn't his fault; it was my fault. I did something to provoke it. Granted, I was only three, but I still must have done something to deserve it.

So the bad stuff that happens just feels like it's what I deserve. It feels shameful. I didn't tell anyone until CHWC. No one knew. I don't know why I didn't tell my parents soon after it happened; I don't remember a lot of the details. I tend to suppress unhappy memories - I literally have been told that I was bullied by my teacher in grade school and I cannot remember it. I can't remember most of second grade, even though first grade and even kindergarten and a lot of preschool are pretty clear in my memory. Even after the workshop brought the memories to the surface, they've been marred by the scars of time...they were buried for over fifteen years. And I don't really want to remember everything. I'd like to forget what I can remember.

According to RAINN (Rape And Incest National Network), lots of bad things come as results of sexual assault. Other than some strange fears and occasional depression, I missed out on a lot of it. Thank heavens. I was lucky. Sorta.

I still fight a prevailing lack of self-worth. I have a very hard time believing that I'm worth anything. Sometimes I feel that I'm more worthless than a plain little pebble, one of millions on a sea shore. Sometimes it's almost debilitating. How can I, a woman who had that happen to her, ever be worth loving? I'm broken, I'm useless.

You can't see it to look at me. I look happy, confident. But sometimes I'm cowering inside, wondering why on earth there's so much fuss about something as worthless as I am.

But then I fight out of it. I have life, and family and friends who love me, and so many things that make life worth living. Even if I don't deserve their love all the time, they're there for me every step of the way. Love saves me, every time. As it saved my soul.

-enna

Thor

This is a tad bit overdue, but I went and saw Thor with a group of friends the Saturday after it came out. (I think. I don't remember when, I just remember going to see it before we moved.)

So, I went into this knowing pretty much nothing about Thor, be it the comic books or Norse mythology. What I knew was that Thor was the good guy, Odin was his dad and he only had one eye, and Loki was the bad guy. However, the comic to the right misinformed me. I thought Loki was the god of FIRE, not ice. Silly OOTS.

Anyway, overall the movie was pretty good. Good action sequences, good non-action sequences, some great one-liners. The acting was well done and the dialog sounded natural. (Always a plus; that's one of the reasons I despise Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.) I knew a few other things about Norse mythology from reading The Sea of Trolls by Nancy Farmer. Good book, incidentally - I've not read the other two in the series, but I've heard that they're also pretty good. Anyway, that introduced me to the concept of having the nine worlds on the great tree. So see? I wasn't COMPLETELY ignorant.

The story was well done as well, though I'm going to touch on that a little more in a moment. The setting was GREAT. They did a very good job of establishing the different worlds and the basics of the worlds for those (like me) who knew nothing or only the barest of bare minimums. Asgard wasn't somewhere I'd live, but it definitely had the feeling that it was supposed to. I also liked how the Asgardians mentioned that they weren't actually gods, but mortals on Earth (our world and no, I don't remember the name they had for it) would think that they were if they tossed around some lightning. It explained stories and was an interesting aspect.

The characters were nice. And here we come upon my problem with this movie. We had Thor, our main guy. And we had Loki and Odin. We also had three of Thor's buddies, Odin's wife (don't remember her name), the head troll guy (don't remember his name either), Agent Colson, whats-his-face with the bow, AND the three scientists. Plus lots of extras. Now don't get me wrong, this isn't too terribly many characters. The problem was that all of those people, with the exception maybe of Colson and whats-his-face, weren't just supporting characters. They were extremely integral parts of the story that ALL had their OWN story. For me, going in without knowing the story of the Avengers, these incredibly unique and different characters lost a lot of flavor. Except maybe with Colson, since I saw him in the Iron Man movies. But for a cast of characters that big that requires so much information about all of them, something got lost.

I didn't connect with any of the characters. Sure, some of them seemed interesting and I wanted to see them more fleshed out, but they were all kinda flat. Their stories - which, from what I'm told, is an integral part of them - were lost, and much of who they are was lost as well. Which was kinda sad. This movie had so much potential and so much going for it - but unless you're a big Thor fanboy or fangirl, these characters have no impact on you. At least in Iron Man I learned enough about Tony Stark for him to drive me stark raving mad every bloody time I watch the second movie. I like the first movie - he was a good guy. THEN he went and turned into some kind of arrogant jerk again. Which I found just maddening. At least Batman didn't seem to be always acting for himself. Whats-his-real-name-who-was-Batman (I'm running a lot of blanks today for some reason) may have been a jerk as his cover, but Tony Stark took that jerk-ness and put it to an exponent of 100. And everyone knew he was Iron Man; he made no attempt to hide his real identity. GAH!!

But anyway, you see what I mean. Tony may be annoying as heck to me, but I can understand (kinda) where he comes from. Because they took time to show us what he could be in movie 1. Thor didn't take that time with any of its characters, and that's what hurt the movie.

Which was sad.

Overall though, good movie.

-enna

we're moved

So, we're over here now and have all been over since Saturday last week. We're working on unpacking. That picture was taken as I sat on my bed and looked towards the opposite corner of my room. I'm sharing a room with two of my younger sisters. We went from a 4200 sq. ft. house to a 1700 sq. ft. house. Just a little bit of a size difference there.

Anyway, we're now working on trying to fit our stuff in here. Just posting a quick update for you all.

-enna

almost done!

School's almost done! Yay! My last final is tomorrow morning, then I'm off till summer classes start on June 6. The post frequency will not hop back up until I get my computer back, however. It's still off wandering in the Toshiba repair depot. I'm glad I don't have to pay for the repair, I don't like the fact that I'm already going on two weeks without the computer and at least another week till I get it back.

Anyway, I have a movie review for you when my computer gets back. ;)

-enna

just letting you know

Ok ladies and gents, apparently my life wasn't stressful enough and my computer will no longer turn on. It's a Toshiba laptop. However, kudos to the people over there; I called and they're going to fix the laptop for me. Yay! And it's still under warranty, so I don't have a charge. More yay! No yay to maybe losing all my data or to the 7-10 business days it will take to fix it. Ick. So I am currently computerless and mooching off of other computers right now. So updates will become even slower. Yippee, right?

-enna

when the hero is...the bad guy?

Yes, I happen to like Ted Dekker. You can't say that I like all his books, because I don't always like them. For example, his Martyr's Song series isn't one that I particularly enjoy.

However, as he's been writing, he has steadily gotten better. To date, his best novel is The Priest's Graveyard. In this book, it's extremely difficult to tell who the good guy is. Our two main characters, Danny and Renee, don't seem to be heroes. They are extremely flawed individuals who have depth, purpose, and more than a little bit of flawed reasoning behind their actions. No character pops out as the villain. The plot is intriguing, drawing you into their lives as you chase them along, both repulsed by their actions and yet unable to turn away. Expect the unexpected in this book. Page after page will whistle by as you frantically flip pages to find out what will happen next. I finished this book in 3 hours - and the book is approximately 360 pages long. This is a mind-blower.

As in Immanuel's Veins, Dekker started using the first person interspersed with third person narrative. However, unlike in Immanuel's Veins, the character using first person was a woman. This is something new for Dekker, as the only time he's ever used first person narrative style with a woman was when he co-authored with a woman. This book was a work he did on his own and with a woman in first-person narrative. However, for the story, it works very well. Once again, this is something that he's not used before Immanuel's Veins, but it works quite well and doesn't detract from the story in any way. In fact, I rather think it adds to the story.

Many times as I've read Dekker's books, I've come to a question: is Dekker Catholic? There are times it seems he is - he certainly seems to have an in-depth knowledge and understanding of Catholic teachings and whatnot, as is portrayed in The Priest's Graveyard. But some of the things he says makes me question whether or not he is Catholic, or has just researched extensively. This is just a curiosity that I've found and would dearly love to know the answer to.

For The Priest's Graveyard, I offer two thumbs up! Go find this book and either listen to it or read it. It will blow your mind and make you think twice about what you do. Definitely Dekker's best work to date - and he has a lot of them. Nor is this just my opinion. Go find a copy of this book. You won't regret it.

-enna

IT'S THE BIG 2-0-0!

My bad drawing of a happy person

Wow! We made it to 200 posts, ladies and gentlemen! *applause sounds* From what I can tell, most blogs barely make it to 50 posts, yet we've quadrupled that number, sent total page views over 1,300, and watched my blog gain a bit more organization. (Well, that's only really been in the past year, but better late than never.) So, let's see what was going on when I started in 2008 and what happens now.

2008:

~I was 17.

~Junior in high school.

~Had just started taking courses at the first community college I attended.

~I started working at the YMCAs that summer.

~I was single.

~Swim team took up most of my free time.

~I had lived in the same community since I was 3.

~The blog was random.

~Post schedule did not exist.

~Organization to the posts did not exist.

~Purpose did not exist.

Now:

~I'm 19 and less than 5 months away from 20.

~I'm a freshman/sophomore in college at a different college.

~My last day at the Y will be May 5th. :(

~I'm in a happy relationship with my best friend. :D

~Swim team messed up my shoulders horribly, so I don't swim competitively anymore.

~I'm moving the weekend after my last day of work.

~The blog is still random.

~I post about once a week.

~Posts have organization now! Yay!

~I'm not sure there's a central purpose yet, but we're a lot closer to one than we were!

Life has changed a lot, and you've been here for that! Thank you! Keep in touch for the next 200 posts!

-enna

what is YOUR telos?

So, in philosophy, we've been discussing Aristotle's virtue ethics. He thought that everyone has a supreme good, or eudaimonia, that they're working for, something that they want for its own sake. This is the goal of our lives, what we work towards. Telos is the purpose of our lives, what we're doing with our lives to achieve eudaimonia.

Does your life have purpose? Do you have a telos? Do you know what eudaimonia is for you?

Yes, this is a short post, but this was something I've been pondering since philosophy class.

-enna

"I don't need easy. I just need possible."

Bethany on left, AnnaSophia on right

So, in case you hadn't heard, there's this movie out that's called Soul Surfer.

It came out last weekend. I, unfortunately, haven't had a chance to go see it. I have EVERY intention of somehow making time to go see this movie. I heard about Bethany's story several years ago, and it inspired me then, and does still now. She's only a year older than I am. She had her arm bitten off by a shark when she was thirteen and I was twelve. And she went on to realize her dream anyway.

Bethany Hamilton

She told her father in response to his comment that it wouldn't be easy for her to surf competitively, "I don't need easy. I just need possible."

AnnaSophia Robb

This is a big budget film. It is done by a big company. It has big stars. And it showcases Bethany's big faith. This movie isn't just "based" on a true story - it IS a true story. In reading reviews, it has kept VERY close to reality. Which meant that this big budget film by a big company actually SHOWED CHRISTIANITY IN A MOVIE. And it wasn't Sherwood Baptist Church, either. They're not big. This was TriStar Pictures. FilmDistrict. Enticing Entertainment. Island Film Group. Affirm Films. Brookwell McNamara Entertainment. Life's A Beach Entertainment. Mandalay Vision. Some of these are somewhat obscure, but TriStar Pictures is one of the largest film production companies out there today. It stars AnnaSophia Robb, with Carrie Underwood, Helen Hunt, and Dennis Quaid. BIG movie. BIG stars. Big message.




Never EVER give up.

We don't need easy. We just need possible.

-enna