Memorial Day.
A lot of people think of it in terms of barbequed meat, baseball games, getting an extra day off work, and camping trips with the family. But I come from a military town and a military family. Recently, a family friend lost her husband in Afghanistan--and he wasn't even supposed to be in combat. He was a professor at one of the military academies who chose to take some time over there so he could be a better teacher and understand what his students were going through.
We shouldn't take just one day to honor those who have given lives to protect freedoms that we are guaranteed. We should be remembering them and their families and friends who have lost so much. Every time I hear on the news about a soldier who isn't coming home, it makes me tear up. And every time they show a homecoming, I cheer.
Even if you don't agree with the wars and support missions we've gotten involved in or started, the troops still need all the support and love they get. They have probably one of the hardest jobs in the world, and without your prayers and support, they will get discouraged and wonder why they're even doing their job. I'm praying for them. Are you?
May 31, 2011
May 28, 2011
Random Story Parts #1--The Trial
Part of moving back into my parents' house means I rediscovered some of my older writings/musings/casual whatevers while cleaning up my room. I think I'll be posting more of these on here, mainly because they're a bit long and not necessarily the best to post as Facebook notes. They're all fictional, so even if it's written in first person, it's not me speaking or thinking or doing; it's my characters. So, this is the one I like to call "The Trial". It was written sometime in the last 3 years, since I know I wrote it down in Texas.
~--------~
I was in trouble now. Well, there was nothing new about that. I was always in some sort of trouble. Mother was always telling me to keep my temper in check, to mind my own business, to stop pestering people. But she didn't understand that it wasn't my fault. It was never my fault. I never started it.
Granted, I had (and will always have) my own issues to deal with. I'm not like everyone else, and depending on who you are I am either special and different or a menace to society who needs to be eliminated. Some see me as a sinner; others, a saint. But now, I was genuinely in trouble with the wrong people, and no one was going to come to my rescue.
I was on my own. As usual.
-----
The guard came to my cell, sneering down at me. I knew him well; he was a friend of my father's. One of his many friends in the city, but I had never liked him very much. His hand gripped my arm like a wolf's jaws latching onto a deer's throat as he pulled me out of the jail.
"Yer in fer it now, Annabelle." His smug grin sent shivers down my spine. "Not even your parents can get yer out of this."
And that was when I knew I was doomed.
-----
The jury was already seated behind the judge's chair, but he himself hadn't come in yet. That was fine by me. I was shaking, afraid of what was going to happen next.
I saw my mother slip into the crowd forming behind me. Great. I hadn't realized how public my trial was going to be. I wanted to just curl up and die--wasn't my shame enough punishment? But I stood tall in the threat of yet another challenge. The faces around me began to blend together; some were exultant, others stunned, others nonchalant, but they all formed one thing: an angry mob.
"Let's just kill her now, and not wait for the judge!" someone called.
Inside, I was panicking. I knew the judge, knew him better than most due to my connections in the community. Above all, he's a good man. In past cases, if there was evidence in your wrongdoing, whether or not he knew you or not, you found your punishment waiting for you at the end of the day. There was always hope...but no, he was too good of a person. I would never get off the hook.
A hush descended over the crowd as the judge walked into the room. He sat up on his bench and focused his attention on me. So did everyone else. I gulped. His piercing blue eyes looked me over. I had seen that look many times, but it had never really been directed at me or anyone I knew. It was the look he always gave anyone who appeared before him who he knew to be guilty, a mix of harshness, pain, and sadness. He actually didn't like sentencing people; it was just his job. The worst part was the tears in his eyes.
I couldn't help it; I tore my eyes away from his. "Annabelle," he said, more gently than I expected. "Annabelle, look at me."
I looked again. "Father." The tears sprang to my eyes now. I could hardly believed my nerve to call him that. "Please. I know what I've done wrong. I can't possibly repay the people I've wronged or fix what I've done. I can't make things right." My voice shook.
His face hardened. "The charges against you are very serious. You have wronged many people and broken numerous laws. And there is enough evidence of these crimes to suggest that you fully intended to commit these crimes."
"I know," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
"As a father, I am hurt that you paid no attention to the warnings that your mother and I gave you. As a judge, I have no choice but to sentence you."
The mob waited with baited breath as my heart hammered in my chest. I could feel my blood rushing through every part of my body. I had never felt more alive--or more dead.
~--------~
I was in trouble now. Well, there was nothing new about that. I was always in some sort of trouble. Mother was always telling me to keep my temper in check, to mind my own business, to stop pestering people. But she didn't understand that it wasn't my fault. It was never my fault. I never started it.
Granted, I had (and will always have) my own issues to deal with. I'm not like everyone else, and depending on who you are I am either special and different or a menace to society who needs to be eliminated. Some see me as a sinner; others, a saint. But now, I was genuinely in trouble with the wrong people, and no one was going to come to my rescue.
I was on my own. As usual.
-----
The guard came to my cell, sneering down at me. I knew him well; he was a friend of my father's. One of his many friends in the city, but I had never liked him very much. His hand gripped my arm like a wolf's jaws latching onto a deer's throat as he pulled me out of the jail.
"Yer in fer it now, Annabelle." His smug grin sent shivers down my spine. "Not even your parents can get yer out of this."
And that was when I knew I was doomed.
-----
The jury was already seated behind the judge's chair, but he himself hadn't come in yet. That was fine by me. I was shaking, afraid of what was going to happen next.
I saw my mother slip into the crowd forming behind me. Great. I hadn't realized how public my trial was going to be. I wanted to just curl up and die--wasn't my shame enough punishment? But I stood tall in the threat of yet another challenge. The faces around me began to blend together; some were exultant, others stunned, others nonchalant, but they all formed one thing: an angry mob.
"Let's just kill her now, and not wait for the judge!" someone called.
Inside, I was panicking. I knew the judge, knew him better than most due to my connections in the community. Above all, he's a good man. In past cases, if there was evidence in your wrongdoing, whether or not he knew you or not, you found your punishment waiting for you at the end of the day. There was always hope...but no, he was too good of a person. I would never get off the hook.
A hush descended over the crowd as the judge walked into the room. He sat up on his bench and focused his attention on me. So did everyone else. I gulped. His piercing blue eyes looked me over. I had seen that look many times, but it had never really been directed at me or anyone I knew. It was the look he always gave anyone who appeared before him who he knew to be guilty, a mix of harshness, pain, and sadness. He actually didn't like sentencing people; it was just his job. The worst part was the tears in his eyes.
I couldn't help it; I tore my eyes away from his. "Annabelle," he said, more gently than I expected. "Annabelle, look at me."
I looked again. "Father." The tears sprang to my eyes now. I could hardly believed my nerve to call him that. "Please. I know what I've done wrong. I can't possibly repay the people I've wronged or fix what I've done. I can't make things right." My voice shook.
His face hardened. "The charges against you are very serious. You have wronged many people and broken numerous laws. And there is enough evidence of these crimes to suggest that you fully intended to commit these crimes."
"I know," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
"As a father, I am hurt that you paid no attention to the warnings that your mother and I gave you. As a judge, I have no choice but to sentence you."
The mob waited with baited breath as my heart hammered in my chest. I could feel my blood rushing through every part of my body. I had never felt more alive--or more dead.
May 22, 2011
Quick! Which one's crazier??
Last night, I stayed up "past my bedtime" to watch the Saturday Night Live season finale. I don't normally watch SNL, because I agree with my parents that the vast majority of the good skits were performed WAY before my time. However, I wanted to give it a chance because I've enjoyed watching Justin Timberlake host in the past and I was curious to see what Lady Gaga would do, despite the fact that I'm not a huge fan of hers.
It was a pretty good show. I was really surprised and laughed more than I thought I would. Justin was just as funny as I thought he would be, and I thought Lady Gaga stole the show. Yeah, her "outfits" (if you can call them that) were just as wild as ever. But I realized something when I was watching her, something that's been pointed out to me about her before but that I've never really thought about.
She is not afraid to be herself at all.
Sure, she's weird, strange, crazy, weird, different, atypical, weird, bizarre, and WEIRD, but she never tries to be anything less than she is. Her songs are addictive (I can't get them out of my head for hours, and I know I'm not the only one who has that problem), and she has amazing musical talent. She's got charisma--I don't know anyone else who would even try to be that out there when performing. It kind of reminds me of what my parents say Michael Jackson and Prince were like back in the day. So I guess I like/admire/respect her more than I thought I did.
Another very strange character I just had to watch this weekend goes by the name of CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow. :) Oh boy, do I love my Pirates. I've dressed up as a pirate for 3 of the last 4 Halloweens, have pictures of the cast up on my wall when I'm living away at college, love watching the movies every few months, and used to have a huge crush on Will Turner (or perhaps, more accurately, Orly). When I realized they were going to go ahead with a fourth movie, I was excited but a little nervous. With Will/Elizabeth out of the franchise, all I was left with was Cap'n Jack, who, although I enjoy watching, was not my favorite character at the time.
Cut to today, when I dressed up to go with my family to watch Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Mom kept saying she was going to sit far, far away from me if I did dress up, so all I did was wear my "pirate" shirt and kept the rest pretty low-key. It's not like I went to the midnight premier on Friday, after all. I was looking forward to this because it focused more on Captain Jack. I really wanted to see more of him. Why the change of heart toward Jack? Because he is a really, REALLY compelling character to watch. The more I watched the movies getting closer to this, the fourth one, the more I wanted to see what they were going to do with his character.
Needless to say, I was not disappointed. Everything the trailers promised was there. Zombies, mermaids, search for the fountain of youth, Blackbeard, Barbossa vs. Jack, insane and highly improbable escapes...it was pretty awesome. If you haven't seen it yet, stay through the credits, though if you're a big enough Pirates fan, you probably were already planning on that. I loved it. Every minute was an adventure.
So, in short, I've had a very strange but highly enjoyable weekend, with many pop culture references and a lot of fun. I hope the rest of my summer will be as fun and weird. What I'm having trouble deciding is who is crazier: Lady Gaga or Captain Jack?
It was a pretty good show. I was really surprised and laughed more than I thought I would. Justin was just as funny as I thought he would be, and I thought Lady Gaga stole the show. Yeah, her "outfits" (if you can call them that) were just as wild as ever. But I realized something when I was watching her, something that's been pointed out to me about her before but that I've never really thought about.
She is not afraid to be herself at all.
Sure, she's weird, strange, crazy, weird, different, atypical, weird, bizarre, and WEIRD, but she never tries to be anything less than she is. Her songs are addictive (I can't get them out of my head for hours, and I know I'm not the only one who has that problem), and she has amazing musical talent. She's got charisma--I don't know anyone else who would even try to be that out there when performing. It kind of reminds me of what my parents say Michael Jackson and Prince were like back in the day. So I guess I like/admire/respect her more than I thought I did.
Another very strange character I just had to watch this weekend goes by the name of CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow. :) Oh boy, do I love my Pirates. I've dressed up as a pirate for 3 of the last 4 Halloweens, have pictures of the cast up on my wall when I'm living away at college, love watching the movies every few months, and used to have a huge crush on Will Turner (or perhaps, more accurately, Orly). When I realized they were going to go ahead with a fourth movie, I was excited but a little nervous. With Will/Elizabeth out of the franchise, all I was left with was Cap'n Jack, who, although I enjoy watching, was not my favorite character at the time.
Cut to today, when I dressed up to go with my family to watch Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Mom kept saying she was going to sit far, far away from me if I did dress up, so all I did was wear my "pirate" shirt and kept the rest pretty low-key. It's not like I went to the midnight premier on Friday, after all. I was looking forward to this because it focused more on Captain Jack. I really wanted to see more of him. Why the change of heart toward Jack? Because he is a really, REALLY compelling character to watch. The more I watched the movies getting closer to this, the fourth one, the more I wanted to see what they were going to do with his character.
Needless to say, I was not disappointed. Everything the trailers promised was there. Zombies, mermaids, search for the fountain of youth, Blackbeard, Barbossa vs. Jack, insane and highly improbable escapes...it was pretty awesome. If you haven't seen it yet, stay through the credits, though if you're a big enough Pirates fan, you probably were already planning on that. I loved it. Every minute was an adventure.
So, in short, I've had a very strange but highly enjoyable weekend, with many pop culture references and a lot of fun. I hope the rest of my summer will be as fun and weird. What I'm having trouble deciding is who is crazier: Lady Gaga or Captain Jack?
May 20, 2011
The War for Jess's Independence, Part 1
Freedom is like a drug to me. Once I've had a little taste of it, I crave more--I want more independence, more emancipation, more of my own being. I desire to be different, to live my own life, free of the expectations that some people would place upon me.
But freedom comes with a lot of fears for me, too. I'm not spoiled, but I'll freely admit I've had a lot handed to me; maybe not on silver platters, but at the very least on china-ish dishes. College (or any of my education, really), a place to live, food, my car, my cell phone...I haven't worked a whole lot to get what I have. One of my fears is that I will not be able to have "what I'm used to" and still be able to live on my own.
Another fear is failure.
I am so afraid to fail that it keeps me stuck in one place, in stasis, like I can't go anywhere or do anything with my life. I'm so afraid that no one will be there to catch me when I fall, despite the fact that I have a great support system, without whom I'd be lost. I'm so afraid to fail that it keeps me from even trying. I can be independent; I know instinctively that I need to be. It's just a part of the whole "growing up" thing. I'm too stubborn not to try, but too afraid of having nowhere to go if I fail.
So, hopefully someday soon, I'll be able to say the war for my independence is won. I may not be on my own yet, but just wait. I hope that by this time next year, I'll be able to say, "I have a place of my own." That's my goal.
But freedom comes with a lot of fears for me, too. I'm not spoiled, but I'll freely admit I've had a lot handed to me; maybe not on silver platters, but at the very least on china-ish dishes. College (or any of my education, really), a place to live, food, my car, my cell phone...I haven't worked a whole lot to get what I have. One of my fears is that I will not be able to have "what I'm used to" and still be able to live on my own.
Another fear is failure.
I am so afraid to fail that it keeps me stuck in one place, in stasis, like I can't go anywhere or do anything with my life. I'm so afraid that no one will be there to catch me when I fall, despite the fact that I have a great support system, without whom I'd be lost. I'm so afraid to fail that it keeps me from even trying. I can be independent; I know instinctively that I need to be. It's just a part of the whole "growing up" thing. I'm too stubborn not to try, but too afraid of having nowhere to go if I fail.
So, hopefully someday soon, I'll be able to say the war for my independence is won. I may not be on my own yet, but just wait. I hope that by this time next year, I'll be able to say, "I have a place of my own." That's my goal.
May 16, 2011
Well, here goes a new adventure...
Everyone who knows me well enough knows I'm a writer. I love to journal before bed each night. I'm an English minor. I can write 12-page papers like a specialty bakery bakes wedding cakes. I come up with some really crazy stories and characters.
So, naturally, I should have had a blog a long time before now. Not saying it wasn't coming. It just took me awhile to get here. While I love writing, sometimes it's hard for me to share my thoughts with others (unless, of course, I'm assigned to for school). Well, I hope this cures me of it. I really want to try to get out of my comfort zone this summer. I'm going to write about whatever I feel like on here, whatever is in my "realm" of ideas. Hence the name for the blog.
And I know some of you are probably thinking, "Why phoenix?" Here's why:
So, naturally, I should have had a blog a long time before now. Not saying it wasn't coming. It just took me awhile to get here. While I love writing, sometimes it's hard for me to share my thoughts with others (unless, of course, I'm assigned to for school). Well, I hope this cures me of it. I really want to try to get out of my comfort zone this summer. I'm going to write about whatever I feel like on here, whatever is in my "realm" of ideas. Hence the name for the blog.
And I know some of you are probably thinking, "Why phoenix?" Here's why:
- It's a symbol of rebirth and renewal. I've been going through a lot of that in my relatively short lifespan.
- It's a fire-bird. I'm not a pyro or anything (in fact I used to be deathly afraid of fire), but I think the idea of the phoenix as an embodiment of fire and flight is pretty cool.
- They are a staple of mythology, which is one of my favorite subjects.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)