Was I a Weird Kid?

I kinda feel like I have to sneak my posts in since I am using my husband's computer. He is happily playing baseball on the Playstation right now, so I think I have a few minutes.

I think life is full of choices that make this huge tapestry that our are memories, impressions and thoughts. For example, I remember at the age of seven laying on a grass lawn covered in clover with bees buzzing around. The sun made everything bright and warmed me quite nicely. For some reason, I thought at the age of seven I should remember that moment and never forget. So I still have this moment etched in my mind of my front yard in Texas. I chose to remember. I remember playing in a pool of mud and having deep thoughts at the age of five. I was contemplating God way back then. Whatever conclusions I came to then still shape who I am now. At the age of eight I couldn't figure out the idea of God not having a beginning and an end when everything else around me does, including myself. I had a discussion about that with another friend who was about eight as well. Do most eight year olds talk about this stuff? Do most seven year olds decide they need to remember a moment of contentment laying on the front lawn?

Should the Time Come

Well, this is my 193 post here at Confessions.

The 193rd post was going to be put together last Friday but it sounded so stupid. Not that this will be any better.

My laptop is still broken, but it is with someone who is trying to resurrect it. I am making money. I am happy. I am helping people. No one (none that I am aware of) is currently upset with me. My husband is happy. Even my dogs seem content. (I guess that is a big part of being a dog though.)

My younger brother's wife is pregnant. So he's gonna be a daddy. Weird. I really am the last sibling to end up with children. The thing is, my life is so full. I can't think of anything I really want to give up. I know the first thing to go for me would be my work with the teens. I guess I have a hard time thinking about kids of my own when there are so many people already born who need my help. I know that I mean a lot to them. They connect with me. They like having a married couple that functions pretty normally and consistently to be around them. I suppose I could keep that part of my life and give up work, but um...I make more money than the husband. We have already discussed that if I do get pregnant, he gets to be Mr. Mom.

The discussion went like this:

Me: J, I make the money to pay the bills and buy your car/musical/electronic toys. I love my work. You hate your job. If I get pregnant, you get to stay at home, okay?

J: Ok.

I wonder if he will remember that. He wasn't making eye contact, just pushing the buttons on his game controlled with a frenzied motion and rabid determination.

Chicken Little

After yesterday, I am still watching to see if the sky is going to fall some more.

It was weird, because all day I felt as if I were a soldier in enemy territory who was under attack but I just had this calm and peace. It was bizarre. One thing after another just came my way and I couldn't get out from under it.

The meeting with my client who was upset with me had some volition, but ever hear the saying "mountain out of a molehill"? I wasn't aggressive enough with prospective buyers for her home. I can see how I could be percieved that way.

So, more agressive Amber. Amber on Steroids is my new goal. Should be great!

Murphy's Law?

I'm not going to even bother to ask if it could get worse.

I spilled a whole glass of water on my laptop while it was open. (Add that to yesterday's post, a mad client and a morning that I accomplished absolutely nothing due to a high amount of drama).

Yet, I'm okay. I wasn't. I wanted to rant and rave and cry and throw stuff. But I'm calm now. I've even managed to make a few calls!

:)

Post script: This is why I won't ask if it can get worse. I do not have a "protection plan" against water on my $1700 laptop that I have not yet paid off.

Wanna Get Away?

In this part of the country, we have a commercial where someone does something really assinine and the tag line is "Wanna Get Away?" due to a high level of embarassment and shame.

I should be a star in one of those commercials RIGHT NOW.

You will not believe what I just did. It was a classic "I'm a super dumbass" moment.

I talked to the head of the youth group. Remember the teen I told you about earlier this week? Well, he got shipped back to his mom's. I have been emailing him a lot. The head of the youth organization met briefly with this teen's dad today. The dad was upset because he feels like we are believing the wrong things. He thinks we are saying that his dad is wrong, horrible and not a good father. (We are totally for both parents and teens. We constantly tell the teens no matter how bad they think their parents are that they still have to honor and respect them unless they are being abused or something.) So his dad wanted to meet with head of the youth group and the head of the church because he feels he's been done wrong.

So the leader of the youth group asked me to send him the emails I had been sending to the teen just in case the father had read them and saw something in there that made him upset. Sure, no problem. I have nothing to hide!

So I emailed the 10 letters that went back and forth between me and the teen that talked about his situation in detail.

After I got done, I realized I sent them to a distribution list, not the individual person.

Pinch Me

I am sure I should be doing something else this morning (like working which I have neglected all week long). However, I stayed up until 3 this morning. If you are not married and under 25, that probably seems like no big deal. Even some people who are over 25 and/or married, that's no big deal.

I am in a stupor. First of all, for the past two mornings I have woken up with my stomach rebelling until I eat something. I don't think they are unusual hunger pains, so I will clarify that position. Secondly, the latest I stay up anymore is 1 o'clock in the morning, and that is when I want to stay up for my inner-child who wasn't allowed to stay up past 8:30. I am making up for all of those nights as a child that I was forced to eat my dinner, take my bath and go to bed so I could be refreshed in the morning. Screw refreshed! I want to howl at the moon.

But last night I went to bed late because I was addicted. I realize if I am going to make a habit of this addiction, I might need to start using crack so I can have enough energy to get through the day. Okay, I am kidding. The only reason I would ever do crack is to lose weight. Ever. I have my standards after all.

So what was I doing up until 3 am? Smoking pot? Drinking? Having an orgy? Of course not! This is Confessions of a Christian, not Taxicab Confessions. (Although I did have a night where I told a taxi driver he could make millions if he would just go into real estate sales. Hopefully the speech was too slurred to hear because that's a load of crap. Some months I can hardly pay my bills. But, if you see above, some months I hardly work because I neglect work because I get obsessed and/or addicted, which brings me back to my point.)

I was addicted to making a movie. Once again, Confessions of a Christian, people. Shelly was over and we were setting this footage we have of the teens just going off and dancing to all sorts of different music. I can't wait until it's done. We worked on it for eight hours last night for six minutes of film.

When it's done, I want to post it so you can watch it. You will see why these teens are so awesome. They crack me up. They are totally not afraid to be who they are when parents and authority figures aren't watching! (Well, I do realize I am an authority figure, but of a completely different nature.)

So I am going to go through my day in this fog like state. Should be interesting. I have a tailgate party and high school football game to go to tonight. Woohoo. I will probably fall asleep to the clanging of cowbells.

Melancholy

Why is life so hard sometimes?
I really wonder.
Why do things have to go down the crapper?
Why can't things be good? Just worked out for good, I guess.

Because in the end it always seems that if you look back you can tell from here why you had to go around the mountain, or up the mountain but at the time you were wondering why the mountain was there at all. In the end, you can figure out what the mountain was all about and what it did in your life and usually, as hard as it was, there is good in it.

Yesterday was an interesting journey.

One of the teens I work with E-mailed me. His dad took him completely off of his medication for bi-polar disorder because his dad doesn't believe in that disease. See, M (the teen) moved here at the end of the summer. His mom shipped him here from elsewhere in the US. He was addicted to meth and had gotten kicked out of school. She didn't know what to do with him.

M started showing up at the end of July. He is a sweet, skinny, punk lookin' guy. Right away, the other teens took him under their wing. Under their tutalage, he has gotten off the drugs and life is looking up. Except for the big mess of a relationship with his dad. Obviously that's not working out too well. He got kicked out of the house last night. Now he doesn't know what to do. Neither do I, all truth be told. I want to jump out of my chair and make some calls and get some co-conspirators so we can keep him here in this town and get him all better.

But that's not really my job, is it? When I see M, I see a regular teen who has so much potential and such a great personality, combined with a spirit that really does want to succeed that I can't help but to be a little broken-hearted. If he goes back to his mom's, the old people and the old habits will be waiting to put their arms around him and lead him off into oblivion. He is at a crossroads. He either will become an eternal junkie who constantly makes bad decisions and will probably repeat his old man's mistakes that were pushed onto him, or he will decide once and for all to give the finger to the world and start living life to take care of himself and start making good decisions for himself.

God, come clean up the mess that is so often our lives.

Nothing Happening

I do not believe I have any confessions today. I only drove 5 mph over the speed limit, I didn't curse, didn't lie, steal or cheat. See, pretty boring day!

Shirley Mae

Usually when I sit down to write, I have a vague idea where I might be headed. I don't put a lot of thought my post. I guess many professional bloggers think it is necessary to put hours of forethought into their subject for the greater good of man kind. I'm not like that. Whatever is on my mind, well developed or not, ends up in this space.

So what's on my mind tonight?

The kind of women I admire most. I think the type of woman I would say I admire in a knee-jerk response would be some sort of brazen, loud, stand up for yourself and take on the world kind of a woman. It would be some sort of woman who never backs down and makes sure that everyone knows that she is taking a stand. In my mind, she stands seven feet tall and has long, flaming red hair. She could take on any lumberjack or backstreet thug.

In reality, the women in life I admire the most end up being the "silent partner" type women. They are the women who work behind the scenes, never raising their voice, never drawing attention to themselves. They are always supporting other people in unobtrusive ways usually displayed by some act or type of love. These women don't demand that people mold to their image and their idea of life. In a fight with a man, they would probably lose in the short run.

My mom is this kind of person. So is Shirley Mae. I had to say goodbye to Shirley Mae today. I probably will not see her again in this lifetime. (For clarification, she didn't die.) I have known Shirley Mae for the past three and a half years. I can't readily tell what impact Shirley Mae has had on my life because she is the silent partner type. She holds her own, has grace and dignity and a soft voice. However, the way she works is more through a whisper here, a watchful eye, a soft spoken prayer. She gives and her spirit of generosity is felt rather than seen. She organizes and mobilizes from the sidelines. She was a teacher only by example. She has been married for over 60 years, and got up to dance with her husband today in front of 500 people because the band started playing their song. She has composure even though there is deep emotion in her. She said goodbye. She said it is tough leaving. She said she thought she had said her goodbyes but there is sorrow and sadness in leaving. She has had to leave a lot during her life and even at her age, she is not done so she continues on to be an example in someone else's life. Sometimes the biggest wars in life are won without more than a whisper and watchful eye.

Give Something...anything

If you haven't been to your local WalMart and seen the donation box, or don't know how to help the Southeastern part of our country, click and go donate. If it's only $5, I am sure every bit will help. Thanks!

Red Cross

Black or white, poor or rich, Democrat or Republican, innocent or criminal......they are in trouble. We need to help.

And if anyone caught the NBC Concert for Hurricane Relief, did you see Kanye West? That man will be the laughing stock of the nation. Does he really think this is a racial issue? Does he think that President Bush has witheld aid because he hates black people? According to him, yes. The press is also at fault for showing the black people as the evil ones and they haven't shown any black people as good people according to Kanye. Weird.

Deleted

The thing is, I didn't really like my last blog either.

I don't know if it is because I hate thinking about who I was as a teenager. There was so much hurt back then. I didn't feel like a single soul really understood me. I guess maybe that is just part of teenage angst.

My teenage angst turned into teenage anger. Most of my regular readers are under the impression that I care a lot about people. It's true. I think the reason that I care so much is because I used to care so little. I didn't care about my parents, my siblings, my friends or myself. I made destructive choices on purpose. I had a raging temper that I was willing to release on anyone for the slightest of offenses. If I knew there was a rule, I went out of my way to break it.

I suppose that's why I am now so in awe of the teens I know. They stay strong through some really tough times. They are faced with the same crappy situations I was, but they choose a different route. They are truly different and I see such beauty in that. Life is no easier for them, and in fact it is often harder.

My last post that I deleted reminded me of how wasteful I was with that time in my life. I don't have regrets because it definately shaped me into who I am today, but on the other hand, it was so senseless and meaningless. I hurt a lot of people. A lot of people hurt me. There are many people I hope I never see again. There are some people I still miss to this day.