Random Thoughts and Musings

I have written a couple of times about my old friend Aidan who has been working with a group of his comrades while stationed in Iraq. They have been involved in a school rebuilding project, and are now trying to provide as many school supply packets as possible (10,000 needed) to the children.

My friend Claudia has, in turn, set up a Paypal donation page, and will work with her company to do the shopping and shipping of supplies.

A complete packet costs approximately $17, but any amount of money you can donate would help to provide more packets, even if it is just a few dollars.

Please read about Aidan’s involvement, and help in any way possible!

Thank you!!!!

xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

I have said before, and will say again: I have the greatest friends, EVER. I myself am not anything spectacular. I hold no great gifts, I do *not* have money. I am not beautiful. I am of just above-average intelligence. However, I manage to befriend (and be befriended by) some of the most talented, gifted, beautiful, and intelligent people. I see great things happening all around me, and am sometimes able to contribute or take part in them, because of these incredible friends. What concerns me today is the way that people try to influence others.

• One person does not hold the belief that something is correct, and as such tries to get another to step outside of their morals to commit an act the first person thinks is fun, or even necessary.
• Another person holds hate in their heart from something or other, and insists on trying to instigate an argumentative-natured conversation with someone else, just to make themselves feel better.
• Yet another person inserts rude and disruptive commentary into conversations, rather than just ignoring the threads that (s)he finds boring or mundane.
• Still another preys on the sensitive topics in the lives of people, digging in and making nasty comments.

Why do these things need to be said and done? Why can’t you just accept the people around you for who they are, respect their boundaries, and discuss topics that you both find of interest? If you do not like what is being said in a conversation, MOVE ON! Nobody is forcing you to speak up and say something nasty just so you’re not forgotten. You make that choice, and the rest of us are forced to live with it or block your “friendship” status. Seriously … does it need to get to that point?

Not one person I have ever met - no matter how beautiful, talented, gifted, or knowledgeable - is a MASTER in every subject under the sun. Just because you have had an experience, or seen someone have an experience, does not mean that the experience will be the same for the person you are speaking to currently. Nor does it mean you need to pretend to have THE KNOWLEDGE that person needs. Share your story … but don’t pretend to be an expert. WE ALL KNOW YOU ARE NOT.

I have the greatest friends in the world. This, I truly believe. Through my amazing friends, I meet others who I tolerate, or enjoy in small bursts. I have a high tolerance, especially when it comes to someone or something that is loved by someone I love and cherish. My tolerance is running low.

I do not want to make the choice to *narrow* my playing field … I believe that is how my parents became so narrow-minded.

So, I beg of you all … Be yourself, and quit trying to be something you are not.

xoxo

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P.S. Don’t forget to stop by and donate a few buckaroos to help my friend Aidan and the rest of Team Taji in their efforts to collect enough school supplies for children to be able to attend the school they are helping to rebuild.

xoox

Tonight, i found out a friend of mine tried to commit suicide. It saddens me that I have been so removed, I wasn’t around to talk to him. It saddens me more that he felt this was his only recourse.

My friend, you are important. To me, and to others who know you. Please, reach out to us to at least talk. We may not be able to fix things, but maybe we can help inject some humor into the situation.

xoxo

Several months ago, I shared a link to “Let’s Say Thanks,” a Xerox-partnered website that allows you to send a post-card to a random military member serving overseas.

They could not have made it any easier: choose a card design, give your name, select a pre-created message OR type one of your own, and click “submit.” Your personal information cannot/will not be shared, and there is ABSOLUTELY NO COST to you.

The postcards are printed in batches and mailed out in care packages put together by their partner. There are several things I love about this:

• many people who do think about sending a note out to military members serving overseas do not know where to start;
• some generous-hearted people do not have the funds to show their generosity;
• well-intentioned people are not always organized enough to follow through with their intentions;
• and most of all, each of the postcards designs (mostly patriotic scenes) was submitted by a child.

These things all make me happy.

I encourage all of you to please, please, please take a moment out of your day to send a card (or 20!). Thanking our military members is not something to be done only on holidays. They are dedicated to sacrificing everything in their lives, daily.

Please remember to take time out throughout the year to do something thoughtful in return.

xoxo

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

P.S. Don’t forget to stop by and donate a few buckaroos to help my friend Aidan and the rest of Team Taji in their efforts to collect enough school supplies for children to be able to attend the school they are helping to rebuild.

xoox

A few weeks ago, I brought to your attention a friend of mine (close friend, we went to high school together) who is part of a school rebuilding project where he is currently stationed in Taji, Iraq. Aidan - my friend - and his comrades are trying to gather together enough supplies that the children can attend school. They need the supplies before October 10th.

Aidan and I have known each other for nearly 20 years now. His father (and mine) were in the Air Force, and due to our last names, we were in the same  homeroom classes. Aidan has always been one of the most generous and open-hearted people I have ever known. We have a long (somewhat complicated) history together, and I take pride in calling him my friend. He has a beautiful wife and amazing daughter at home in Texas, who he misses terribly. Since he cannot be a part of his daughter’s first grade school year, he is attempting to alleviate some of the sadness by helping other schoolchildren attend school.

My friend Claudia has started a campaign and set up a donation page. One complete set of school supplies for one child is approximately $17.00. The group of soldiers in Iraq (Team Taji) have purchased all of the school supplies available through the military stores and put together as many school packets as they could. Now, supplies will need to be shipped into Iraq. They’ll put the packets together, if we can get the supplies together and get them to Taji on time. Our goal is to raise as much money as possible, and then Claudia and her team will do the shopping and get the supplies shipped out.

If you can help, even with one or two dollars, it will help us achieve our overall goal.

My personal promise: I am not just trying to get *other* people to help - I am trying to be a part of this mission as much as possible, as well. I myself have donated enough for one packet of supplies ($17). If I am able to pay my rent before the end date of this campaign, I will donate enough money for a second packet of supplies. I try to get involved when anyone I know reaches out for help in a fundraising effort. I am asking all of you to do the same, if you are able.

Thank you, in advance, for your support in this effort. Once the supplies are shipped, we will try to get Team Taji to send us photos or video of the supplies being delivered.

Claudia and I will follow up when the campaign ends, so we can all share in the success!

it will not save the blog i typed up for thursday.

so you get nothin but this.

We all know that I do not *like* conflict. I’ll stand up and loudly state my opinion when I know people will respect it whether or not they agree with it, but if I know something is going to possibly bring on conflict, I do try to avoid it. So, it is with care and conscious that I write this blog. Most of my posts tend to be for my friends and the few family members I invite to read it - it keeps all of you updated on what is happening in the world of Devyl. So, this post will take a step away from that trend for a day.

I ran across this blog post, and found myself strangely hopeful. I, too, am pro-choice without being pro-abortion. I believe in ANY woman’s right to choose, and while I may personally feel that abortion is not a choice … I have supported several people through the struggle of having their own abortions.

I do not understand (because I have not been in the position of needing to understand) the desperation involved in the choice of performing a home abortion, birthing a baby and killing (s)him before anyone knows what happened, or abandoning a baby in an obscure place where (s)he cannot be found and helped.

Babies are helpless, completely innocent of any crime you may try to charge them with, and fully dependent on the people around them. Choosing to take advantage of this state of being, exploit this power, or deny this responsibility is cruel, monstrous behavior.

My first choice for any baby would be for the mother AND father to find a way to raise their child with love and compassion and discipline. My second choice would be for one of the birth parents to accept full sole responsibility for the child and raise him/her with love, compassion, and discipline. My third would be  the mother and/or father (working together whenever possible) to seek out and adopt to her/his/their choice of families to raise the child with love, compassion, and discipline.

(Do we see a trend here at all?)

The unexpected arrival of Willow D. Kitten has given my little family quite the shimmy-shimmy-shakeup. We were a very quiet family of three: Rascal Lee Kitten, Lil Lady, and I.

Rascal Lee Kitten, while quite rambunctious as a lil bitty 6-week old kitten (hence the moniker-turned-official name “rascally kitten”), is a very unassuming and laid back fat cat. He rather likes our quiet apartment, since he no longer has 3-5 children chasing him or kicking him or otherwise abusing him. He does miss having Uncle Mike around to enjoy some quiet time with, though. Rascal Lee simply has no need for silly-kitty games like “jump out from behind a shadow and attempt to scare you shitless,” or “hide behind couch and attack your hair,” or even “climb into the refrigerator and try to break into the turkey-drawer.”

Willow D. Kitten, however, apparently finds these games necessary. To date, he has kitten-dialed four people, sent one kittenese text to a friend, typed several kittenese messages on social networks, and even typed three kittenese emails (that SOMEHOW got sent!). He has also gotten stuck in cabinets (serves him right for climbing into my clean pots, dammit!), in the refrigerator (thank God we were simply pouring milk into a pot on the stove, then returning the carton to the fridge), in a plastic bin (teach ya to try to drag my clean sheets out for your sleeping pleasure, won’t it, kitty?), and in his cat carrier (I warned you that I had not removed the gate yet, you goober). He has left too many scratches to count - on anyone who dares enter his playpen (i.e. our apartment or anywhere else he happens to be). He has made us fully aware that the world is his oyster, which he intends to conquer!

A while back, Lil Lady and I were in the living room, watching a show. We were also watching Willow D. Kitten prance, pounce, and play his way around the apartment. Because we live in an small apartment, from the living room we can see the dining room, the kitchen, and part of the laundry room. Willow D. Kitten was chasing invisible playmates in the kitchen. I had him in the corner of my eye, waiting to see if he would try to jump on the counters. Suddenly, he disappeared. I looked over towards the kitchen to see if he’d jumped and I hadn’t noticed the movement. Only, he wasn’t there. ANYWHERE in the kitchen.

“Well, how’d he get past me? Where is he,” I asked Lil Lady. She looked around the three rooms we could see, went into her room to check, and then looked in the front hall by the door. “I have no idea. He must be hiding out.”

We went back about our business. Suddenly, I see him in the kitchen again, prancing around. How in the world? I looked at Lil Lady, she looked at me, and we shrugged. We continue watching our show, keeping a closer eye on him. Something dramatic happens, and we’re more focused on the TV than the kitten, and he disappears again. We look at each other, look around the room, and start to investigate. I’m standing in the kitchen, looking up on the counters, trying to see above the cabinets, when suddenly sharp claws swipe across my ankle. What the heck? I kneel down, no kitten. I look around, no kitten.

I walk away, and he chases me. What the HECK??? Again, I watch him as he romps and plays, and follow him as he leaves the room. Giving up, I sit back down. Lil Lady and I discuss it a bit, and she looks just as perplexed as I.

Willow D. Kitten heads back to the kitchen, so we watch closely. He prances, pounces, plunders his way over and under the soda box, grocery bags, and 1-step stool we have left in the kitchen for his playing pleasure. Suddenly, as he’s scampering around the baseboard under the kitchen cabinets, he scrambles into the corner, disappearing! I cracked up, opened the corner cabinet to confirm my suspicion, and realized the way they trimmed the cabinets did not seal off the space underneath. He couldn’t get into the cabinet, but there is plenty of play-space beneath the cabinets, for however long he fits through this three-inch triangle of space.

Mystery solved!

Now, if we could only find my good tweezers, which he stole. I do *not* want to spend $10 replacing them!!

Lil Lady is, in my opinion, an amazing daughter. And, really, my opinion is the only one who counts. *Grins* Anyway. She has not done anything to bring on this post - there was not a sweet moment or an outrageous moment. As I sit her, alone for the evening, I realize: I do not feel kid-free. I do not feel as though I have a moment to breathe since she is away for the night with her uncle and cousin. I do not even feel like there are things I should be doing now that I have some time without her.

This is not because I am stressed out or have five million things to do anyway. No.

I feel this way because she makes life so easy all the time. We have our routines, which are not routine at all. Sometimes we stay together in the living room and do things together, other days she goes to her room for some alone time and I do not see her for hours. No matter which route we choose, she is not ever intrusive, rowdy, or annoying (except in little snippets of moments … they hardly count, every PERSON has those - whether they be a child or an adult).

I do not have to necessarily schedule my life around her because she has ALWAYS been more than capable of handling herself. As soon as she was of a legal age, I was able to trust her alone in our homes, to take care of her chores, do her homework, and not get into anything that was off-limits. I could trust her to stick to limits on snacks, stay off the phone, keep the television off until her homework was completed.

There have been exceptions to this, of course. I find, unfortunately, she is easily influenced by her friends and cousins. I hope as she gains a little more confidence, this will happen less. I cannot even say it has been a “problem,” because I tend to forgive and forget fairly easily, unless a situation happens repetitively.

So, while Lil Lady is gone, I will go about my business as always … except I’ll watch fewer shows because we enjoy watching them together. And I will have to feed the cats and scoop the litter. All well-worth the knowledge that she is having one last summer fling weekend before school starts!

So, like sand in the hourglass of time, I drift continuously through my day, with no change in speed or direction.