Let Freedom Ring

Funny #5

2012-01-31T19:38:00.002-05:00

So this may not be as much of a funny as it is a "Aww". I found out today that you can't actually "sweat out a cold". I've been sick for a couple of days, so I was/am trying to take it easy on my running and stuff. Since I've been feeling better, I decided to go ahead and work out and later run a sorry two miles with the hopes of being able to "sweat it out" and get better faster. Turns out, "sweating out" is just another old wives tale, as per this fitness guru I know. Oh well. It felt good to run, so I guess I'm really on the mend. Yay!

Journey

2012-01-26T21:01:00.007-05:00

I know it's not Mother's Day yet, but this kinda just came to me. Criticism welcome!

Don't you know the joy she felt;
it seemed as though the world would melt
as the doctor placed you in her arms,
kicking and screaming and all alarmed?

She looked into your squinty face
(apparently, you didn't like this cold, bright place).
So she held you close to keep you warm-
it was like your bodies were meant to conform.
The whole world seemed to pass her by
as she stared, captive, into your eyes.

"Why would God entrust me
with such a great responsibility?
I'm nothing, no one, my resume's bland,
I've been assigned a task I don't understand!
This child I hold needs only the best,
of care, of nurture, of morals, no less!

Oh Father, I realize I can't do this alone.
That's why I come now, humbly, before Your throne.
Have mercy on me, sinful creature that I am
that I may claim forgiveness through the blood of of Your Lamb!"

The Father rose from His holy seat.
Kneeling, He lifted her face to see.
"My daughter, I love you. You know that I do.
I hold your beginning, your end, and I will see you through.
This task is by far, far more than you can bear.
The angel you hold deserves the best of care.
You have asked for my help, and my help you shall have.
But be warned, this is a Journey, not a half-class act."

The next thing she knew, there was a candle shaped "2".
Two years gone by; already, they were through!
This was still the beginning, she thought with a sigh.
She watched with great glee as you toddled by.

And toddle you did for months on end
learning to live in your family's den.
She remembered the words of the loving Father.
Through the Journey she progressed farther and farther.

You grew and grew in wisdom and stature,
until one day, she barely recognized the young woman, her daughter.
They sat down for a talk one Sunday afternoon
sipping iced tea on that hot day in June.

"Darling, my Journey with you is almost complete.
You're grown up now, as plain as anyone can see.
I've had the privilege and honor of watching you grow,
You've come a long way, more than you know.

From the first day I saw you, right until now,
I've given you my all, as God would allow.
And now, here you are, beautiful and grown,
all set and all ready to start a Journey of your own.

Remember who you are, don't you forget-
you're forgiven, you're loved, you're mine, and that's that.
This Prince Charming you've found IS quite a stud,
but don't forget the Father, your first love.
It is He alone who has brought me through,
and He's been eagerly waiting to see you through, too!"

And with that word, down the aisle you walked,
slowly, carefully, just like you rehearsed.
She stood in the front row, tear in her eye,
trying desperately not to cry.

After a couple of years went by,
you launched your own expected surprise!
A new generation, merely a seed,
had been planted in you, for you to lead!

Right there and then you came humbly alone
to the feet of the Father, to the foot of the throne.
To ask for His help as your mother before you
in your own Journey, uncharted and new.

Your mother helps you in the best ways she can,
but she is only a descendant of mere mortal man.
So are you, little girl, so frail.
You can do your best, but it's to no avail.

You are on a Journey, and you need a guide,
a Heavenly Scout, a Father, a Light.
And those you have if only you ask.
They're free to His children from the first to the last.

So set out on your Journey empowered and owned,
all this because you're not out there alone.

Non-Expanding Recreational Foam

2011-11-17T10:05:00.005-05:00

I am now the proud owner of a Alpha Trooper CS-18 nerf gun. As I tried out my new purchase, I was amazed at just how hardy these nerf products really are. The darts can really take some damage! Now I really wish I had asked for these things as a kid. I was too shy to ask for one back then, boy do I regret it now.

Oh well. I'm glad I've got one. I'm pretty sure it'll find some kind of sick use in my college years, and I'll be darn proud and happy to pass it on to my kiddies. I'll be sure to buy them buttloads of nerf weaponry and ammunition to indoctrinate them with this cult-like entertainment. Cult-like, you ask? Have you even seen some of the home-made nerf review videos on YouTube? Go check it out. It gets pretty intense.

Hmm. Come to think of it, maybe I'll just keep my CS-18 for my own personal arms stash.

Xtreme Makeover!!! (Blog edition)

2011-11-14T22:51:00.007-05:00

Don't know if you've noticed, but this blog baby got a SERIOUS MAKEOVER!

I am quite proud of the blog header. She's a result of my own imagination, GIMP skills, and love. Since I'm still in amateur awe over the sheer fact that something I made actually worked (and actually looks half decent), I thought I'd share my artistic and philosophic reasoning behind the logo and overall look.

Let freedom ring is a part of one of my favorite patriotic tunes, "My Country tis of Thee". It also expresses my and every other American's First Amendment rights. The blog was originally purely political in nature, hence, the heavy patriotic symbolism. You "hear", by way of the blog, my opinions (ring), of which I have the right to openly share (freedom).

"This is my blog. There are many like it but this one is mine." is a play on the Marine Corps rifleman's creed. Yes, I'm "that guy", that wannabe trying to shyly edge in her humble flattery via imitation. Anyway, the point is, there are many blogs out there on the worldwide web, but I'd bet my socks that mine is the only one you'll find like it.

The crossed swords are meant to give the blog a warrior-esque feel, since I consider myself one. Why not M16s or uzis? Because swords tend to be a symbol of a more civilized age, as Obi-Wan would say, and besides, they look nicer. But for the record, there's still a special place in my heart for modern firearms.

The cherry blossoms are a little tribute to my Asian heritage. It could be argued that being half Filipino, a tree most commonly associated with Japan is ill-fitting for my particular case. To which I reply, with utmost boldness and vigor, "So?". Come on. They're pretty...

I also gave the blog a cleaner look to match the header. Think about it. I shuffled the blog to match the header. Ha. Ha ha.

I think it looks good. Hope you like it.

Funny #4

2011-11-07T17:30:00.005-05:00

Power lifters at the gym scare me. Somethin' ain't right about a guy with over-sized thighs and trunk who's exerting immeasurable effort trying to lift all the weight plates in the gym from the ground to the tops of his quads, all the while his veins are popping, his back is cracking, and his mouth guard is wearing thin in his clenched jaw. I don't get it. I really don't.

Eh. Men.

To sing or not to sing

2011-11-02T10:36:00.001-04:00

I don't want to be "that guy". I really don't. But I feel I must let this out, or I will implode out of sheer frustration.

Music in the church service is a delicate subject. When it comes to talking about it, people seem to be on either side of the proverbial fence. On one side, you have the the religious zealots championing hymns and gospel tunes of old, continually bombarding the music minister with e-mails to go back to the way it was, musically. On the other side, you have the modern progressives who argue that more modern songs will lure in the people of today and hold the attention of the youth. Then you have those sitting on the fence, crying, "Can't we all just get along?"

I tend to sit in the tree 15 yards off and watch them fight to the death.

OK, not really, but seriously.

My earliest memories of church look different than the church I see today. It's to be expected; new pastor, new staff, new times. But the difference goes deeper than that.

I remember grudgingly getting out of bed, reluctantly putting on a dress, making it through Sunday School, and bracing for Big Church. Despite my boredom, I'd sing the hymns to the best ability, with all the reverence a kid could muster. The sermon took forever (maybe it just felt like forever to a kindergartner), but I listened hard and persevered, staying awake the great majority of the time. As I grew older and matured, I grew to appreciate the deep meaning and reverence behind the now outdated tunes. Even now, I associate congregational singing with hymns.

Hymns made it much easier for my brain to focus. Every line pointed straight to God. When the grand and solemn orchestra began to play and the choir began to sing "His name is wonderful, His name is wonderful, His name is wonderful, Jesus my Lord," the slow, somber, joyful tune let me think of nothing else but that His name is wonderful.

To me, hymns equal reverence. "Praise and Worship" songs equal jumping around, having a good time at VBS or children's choir. To me, "Modern worship", like Casting Crowns and the like, is what you listen to in the car. So you can imagine my confusion and frustration when I see and hear these things in "big church".

My biggest pet peeve? When the music minister takes hymns and changes the beat, or throws in some modern stuff to make a "medley". It wasn't broke, sir, don't "fix it".

The Bible does say to "Sing unto the Lord a new song." But the thing is, hymns never get old. At any rate, as the cliche goes, it doesn't matter what you're singing, so long as you're worshipping.

That's all good, except singing worship is a world of a lot easier for me when I'm in a reverent state. To each his own; I prefer hymns.

Penny for your Thoughts

2011-09-25T21:38:00.007-04:00

Recently, I watched the movie Murder in the First. The plot is (VERY loosely) based on Henri Young regarding his time spent at Alcatraz, a Federal prison back in the day. In a nutshell, the movie tells how he was arrested for stealing five dollars at a Post Office to feed his sister and himself. After being discovered with two others attempting to escape, they put him in a hell-hole of a cell where he spent three years in solitary confinement, all the while beating him, starving him, etc. The cell was pitch black, moist, and clammy. He was only let out for thirty mintues out of those three years.

After three years, they let him back into the regular prisoner population. Apparently, those three years spent alone had driven him insane. While in the cafeteria one day, he saw the inmate who had betrayed the escape attempt three years earlier. He stabbed him with a spoon in plain sight.

He was to be put on trial for first degree murder and was assigned a public defender. Initially, he spoke very little to the PD. When he finally spoke, all he wanted to know was about baseball and the status of Joe DiMaggio. The PD persevered, and eventually got answers, but Young always reverted back to talking about baseball, or things beside the case.

When confronted on why he didn't want to talk about the case, Young reminded the PD that he had been locked up, alone, for three years. All the PD wanted to talk about was the case, and the details of the case was what Young had been living and thinking about for the past three years. The case was the last thing he wanted to talk about. And here's where I began to think.

How very often it is that I come to God like that PD. After next to no communication with Him by way of choices, lifestyle, and just not talking to Him, I'll come up to Him with a case of my own that I need to have resolved NOW. "God, where should I go to college? God, what am I supposed to do with my life? God, am I going to get married or not?" The list goes on and on. And like Henri Young, God's responses seem to indicate that He cares more of my life than my circumstances or questions.

Instead of answering questions, He just wants to talk. And often times, He wants to talk about things I don't really want to discuss.

"God, where should I go to college?"
"Christine, how's that one sin problem we were talking about?"

"God, what am I supposed to do with my life?"
"Christine, we used to talk a lot more than we do now. What happened?"

"God, am I going to get married or not?"
"Christine, do you believe I'm worth living for?"

It's not that God needs my company. But I desperately need His, no matter how I may think otherwise, and He knows it. I believe God answers questions in His own time, and despite (or in spite) of my questions, if my faith rests solely in Him, He'll open doors that He wants to open. For now, He just wants to talk. Strangely enough, I find that I like talking to Him.

Funny #3

2011-09-07T13:13:00.006-04:00

So I just. Had. To. Share.

I've been trying a new thing, getting up at 0530 to hit the gym, ensuring that I actually squeeze gym time for the day. It's been going great so far.

I've been working out (albeit inconsistently/consistently, if you will) for a year and some change now, and have come across quite the range of gym goer personalities. I've seen the bodybuilder with arms as big as my thighs, the guy(s) I know I could never have but still dream about anyway, the chick who works her mouth more than her body, the bro who's just all that, the military buffs (and buffette), the flaming homosexual, the girl that's prettier, faster, AND stronger than I am, the old motivated geezers (way to go granny!), the weight trying-to-losers, and the average joes. But never before have I seen what I saw this morning.

A personal trainer on the bench, with 70lbs in each hand. As he proceeded to bench, the most dramatic, odd, toe-curling grunts I have ever heard spluttered from within and out his mouth. I wish I could have recorded a video. "OOooohh....AHhhhhh....yea-uuuhhh baybeeehhh...." For a moment, I didn't know if I was in a gym or if I had walked in on lovers. It messed up my own routine.

You really had to be there, but I'm glad you weren't. I suppose stranger things have happened. In other news, the Commanding Officer of Marine recruiting here in Jacksonville can shrug, in each hand, as much as I weigh. That's Semper Fit for ya!

A Warrioress' Heart part 1

2011-08-13T20:21:00.005-04:00

"Go ahead," My mom urged. "Punch it."

I squirmed. There I stood, don in mom's old foam sparring gear, squaring off against an upright white mattress twice my height and thrice my girth. I looked at the target, to my mom, then back again to the towering opponent. I hesitated, then gave it a little tap.

"Oh, come on," she reproached. "Harder."

I hit again, this time, with all of my might. I looked to my mom for approval:

"Much better," she smiled. "Now, try this..." She demonstrated a basic combo: punch, punch, kick, and punch. My eyes opened wider. I found myself repeating the combo again, again, and again. When satisfied, I stood back and sighed. I reveled in my first "fight rush" ever, savoring the moment. My dad interrupted my thoughts:

"Well, do you want to learn karate?"

Whoa, do I want to what? I had just figured out the mattress!

I had, you see, this picture in my mind of what I believed karate to be. The picture consisted of two foam-armored individuals gritting their mouth guards in a boxing ring, battling each other in the dim light. It was quite an intimidating picture for me at the time. I was a tiny and timid little thing at seven years old. The thought of being hit deeply frightened me, and it was very difficult for me to imagine hitting someone. Well, sort of.

Hardly a year before, I had learned a lesson about friends. You may love them to death, but they are still human. Therefore, you can't always trust them. My best friend and I were horsing around with some other classmates during recess one day. Somehow, the gaggle got more physical and competitive than usual, and I found myself under my friend, belly up, pinned on the ground by her weight. It wasn't molestation, and it certainly wasn't rape, but it was very uncomfortable. I didn't appreciate feeling helpless, either.

I plead with her to please "get off of me", "let's just finish the game", "I don't like this", but to no avail. Discomfort turned to panic, as I rolled over and "called for help". By call, I mean whisper; like I said, I was shy. Besides, everyone was engaged in the frolic. They wouldn't pay any mind anyway. I eventually found myself on my feet and beating it to the teacher. Unfortunately, she couldn't distinguish the truth between my story and my friend's. So we were both sentenced to time out, which was quite the punishment for normally well-behaved first graders in 2001.

The story doesn't end on too sour a note, as we made up eventually, and were friends even as we parted ways upon grade promotion. As far as I know, we're still friends, despite the absence of contact for 10 years. Maybe we'll meet up someday. So Victoria K, if you're reading this, hollah!

Back to the future. I thought about it, and decided to go out on a limb. Why not? One can't hide forever.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the hardwood floor of an old Japanese man's dojo, watching a class. I remember being in awe of the pictures and flags on the wall. Various oriental weapons lay stationed in their racks, a symbol of advanced knowledge beyond me. This was not some pansy Karate America type tae kwon do chain, soiled by Western consumerism and sparkle. The Sensei himself was a man of small stature, yet his stern and gentle bearded face, along with his stern and gentle demeanor commanded the respect of his class. His frayed, greying black belt spoke of years of discipline and the study of the science of his art, which he himself had created using pieces of what he had learned.

The kids themselves who were practicing their techniques in front of me seemed to be members of a special clan; an exclusive pack. They moved around in their disciplined movements, kiai-ing with precision and vigor. I was nervous, but I wanted to do it. At that moment, in that dojo, something sparked within me that is still afire today. I had to do it. Deep down, I just knew I could do it. It would kill me not to.

To be continued...

La Family

2011-07-07T11:06:00.006-04:00

I'm back from an enjoyed weekend in Tennessee with a bunch of my extended family. Lots of fun was had out on the boat, being slung around on the "Ho-ho" behind the boat, wakeboarding (er, attempting to wakeboard), eating food, ~~losing~~ playing games, and just chilling. Oh yeah, and fireworks. But one night, one of my cousins asked a question that set me thinking.

Sitting around on the porch, just us kiddies, this one cousin started asking us all questions like "What's your favorite color? What animal would you be?". And then, the infamous "If you had three wishes, what would they be?" After being informed that I couldn't wish for three more wishes, I commenced. "A family," I instantaneously said, counting off my finger. But then a pause. And a longer pause. And an even longer pause. I was amazed; I couldn't think of anything else.

Yeah, I want to be a Marine, but that's something I have to work for. Being successful would be great, but again, that's something anyone can do with hard work. But to have a family...that's a something effort can't lay at your feet.

A family is a blessing given by God himself.

As I pondered that for the next few days, it reminded me just how rich I am. I have a mom and dad who have, do, and always will love me, a brother who doesn't kill me (OK--he loves me), and a great extended family on both sides of the parental unit.

I am rich now, but I can imagine just how much richer I would be to wake up on a Saturday morning and have little spawn crawl into me and hubby's bed for some good old fashioned snuggling. If I was forced to choose, I would take the title of "Mommy" over "Lieutenant".

This year's annual pilgrimage was boatloads (pun) of fun. As I count down the days until I graduate and become an independent independent, each day as a dependent independent grows sweeter. And that family I've grown up with for the past 17 years? Despite the fact that I'm clawing at the door, begging to be let out, I can tell that living without them is going to take some getting used to.

As I Like It

2011-05-18T20:06:00.004-04:00

I wrote this for a school assignment. Andrew is a character in As You Like It, one of Shakespeare's comedies. I was supposed to create a short story of Andrew's old girlfriend and how she broke up with him. This was the result. PLEASE don't copy my work. Thaaanks.

Dorris, mindlessly walking along with a dandelion in her hand. Carelessly throws it over her shoulder after picking off its petals. It hits Andrew square between the eyes.

ANDREW: Say there,

DORRIS: mindlessly Oh, sorry dear.

Andrew sighs

DORRIS: Andrew, darling, do stop sighing. Honestly, you do worry me so, whatever is wrong? Oh, have you heard of John? Susan told me just the other day how he fell terribly ill, and she could tell he was going down on account of his pale face. And I do fancy, you look quite pale. Are you well deary?

Andrew hesitates. He is obviously slightly flustered.

ANDREW: Dorris, I assure you I am quite fine. I woke up this morn with a twinkle in mine eye and not an ache in my body. The birds sang their songs as an entrance song just for me, and the sun gleefully lit my humble abode. Indeed, quite the only thing lacking at the present are fulfilling victuals. I don’t know that you have heard, but my stomach has been quite unhappy for the past hour thence. Nothing would quite hit the spot like a roast beast and some ground mush with perhaps a trifle of gelatin and whipped topping to finish off the entrée. What say we acquit our journey and stop for a time and a morsel?

DORRIS: Oh. So…you’re…hungry?

ANDREW: But of course, my dear. A man lives not by love alone.

Dorris faces him square.

DORRIS: So. I see how it is. Your stomach comes before your love.

ANDREW: No, my sweet, you misunderstand. I—

DORRIS: No, no! Not another word. You say you love me. You call me beautiful. But you’re a liar; a stone-faced liar! You say we should acquit to eat. To cut our stroll short in order to fulfill your current physical ‘obligations’. Don’t you hear it? You decide to quit on what has an enduring effect on our relationship for but a temporal feeling of mere hunger? Who are you? What are you? Are you the Andrew I fell for? Yes, but I am the fool. I thought you were different than the other crumbs. I thought you were something special. But you would trade food for love! Oh!

ANDREW: Dorris, my love! My sweet! My beautiful! My darling! You musn’t say such things! You know I love you! But I am faint, and must consume to fulfill this void that—

DORRIS: OH! Stop! As if I am not enough for you. My love, my attention, cannot fill the void within you. I’ll have you know, you pig, that I’ve turned down Sir William, Duke Henry, and Prince James for you. FOR YOU! And this, THIS how you repay me?! I could have been a Lady, Duchess, or Princess! My sacrifice is in vain! That which I wish I knew! Well consume this, you snipe. Andrew and Dorris are done! I hereby declare this relationship null and void, stripped of all affection and desire. I wish to never see your nasty face again!

Dorris storms off, Andrew faces audience

ANDREW: And just like that, I lose my love,

My darling angel and precious dove.

Oh that I wish I had held my tongue

Or that she wouldn’t be so high strung.

Old Andrew gets what he deserves

For being in want of sweet hors d’ouevres.

So ladies I warn you as to what I have shown

That man cannot live by love alone.

Of Virginia Military Institute

2011-05-05T10:28:00.005-04:00

Virginia Military Institute is where I have my heart set on attending for my college years. This here's a sonnet for a school assignment, ode to VMI. It is based on my feelings after attending their Open House program this past March. It's not Shakespeare, but it's from the heart.

The grounds were frosted over with the dew
Cadets were walking to and from their ways
As I stood and took it in, all anew,
My heart it stopped as in a sudden daze.
The prospect of my budding future here
Was overwhelming as it beckoned me.
And yet behind, beyond the daunting fear
I knew that nothing held me back; I’m free
To live, to dream, to go beyond all sense
Common to the normal man’s future plans.
To toil, to fight and labor for a chance
To push beyond VMI’s demands.

What a chance to spend the rest of youth at

Virginia Military Institute.

Funny #2

2011-03-11T15:19:00.002-05:00

I am not a runner in the sense that I like running. I love what running does to my body and mind, but it is a conscious choice to drag my lazy butt outside and run. So today, I decided to bring along the generic mp3 player to mask the discomfort. And guess which song comes on first? The background song to the battle scene in The Chronicles of Narnia, aka, Concentrated Epicness. The song rushes me out of the driveway and onto the street. I feel good--really good. Until about a minute later. I hadn't noticed that I had started at full speed and had forgotten to breathe normally. A stitch started to grow, and by the final measure, I was limping back to the house sucking wind and nursing my side. I'll try again tomorrow, after the SAT. -_-

New Year 2011

2011-01-01T08:19:00.005-05:00

Okay! New Year resolution time!

In 2011, I want to:

Narrow down college/major decision
Get back to the gym
Gain ten pounds
Increase running endurance and mileage, decrease time
Get a stripe (or two)
Submit a blue belt
Narrow down future

So that's that! For now, anyway. Happy New Year!

The "other" blog

2010-12-29T19:18:00.005-05:00

After my Karate era and before my current Ju-jitsu and Krav Maga adventures, I walked the Martial Arts path through Aikido, and wrote of my experiences. It'd be nice to go back and experience it one day, but for now, I reminiscence in my aikido blog. I'm currently working on my martial arts "history" (I'm not that old...) and shall post at an opportune time. Meanwhile, enjoy.

Veterans Day 2010

2010-11-11T18:30:00.004-05:00

Since it's Veterans Day, I'd like to give a quick shout-out to two of my favorite vets:

Ted Knowling, Jr., 1st Lieutenant, US Army (aka Grandpa)

Reynaldo Raquipiso, Petty Officer First Class, US Navy (aka Lolo [Grandpa])

Thank you for your proud service, your example of devotion to country, and for the military heritage.

...under God...

2010-10-05T21:33:00.007-04:00

"To quote Isaiah 6:8: Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" Then I said, "Here am I. Send me!"

I thank them for doing many of my countrymen wouldn't do... they answered the call to go for ...me. As a Navy Vet I stand and give then a salute and say GO NAVY BEAT ARMY!!

Fair winds and following seas in the great here after. God Bless their families and God Bless the country they served America!"

This was a reply to a post from the Naval Academy. While I do appreciate the service of our Armed Forces, I DO NOT appreciate ANYONE twisting scripture to magnify and idolize military service.

The poster took this verse COMPLETELY out of context. God was speaking amongst the Trinity, and Isaiah volunteered to tell the nation of Israel of their coming doom.

I love my country. I love its founding principles. I am grateful for the men who so meticulously pieced together our Constitution to ensure freedom from tyranny and equal opportunity for generations to come. I am equally grateful for the men and women who fought and died for those principles, and for those who still do so today. I hope that one day, I can carry on this tradition of preserving freedom by fighting for those whose God-given freedoms are oppressed.

But while this wonderful concept of Freedom is grand and seemingly magical, I must never forget that it is God who gave us those unalienable rights. While America was never a "Christian nation", she was founded upon Christian principles, as many of our Founding Fathers recognized that a nation is blessed when their God is Lord. Therefore, though I may be proud and grateful for such a great nation, I must never forget that I am a child of God who has been placed in America. For this, I am truly grateful, because being a citizen of such a nation, I have the opportunity to fight for the freedoms of others at home and abroad.

I love my country, and God is sovereign. That verse was not meant for a catchy, sentimental recruitment line. If we are not careful, our country becomes our god, and God becomes a mere force of karma in our country.

Castra Praetoria: Defining The American Warrior

2010-10-05T10:43:00.002-04:00

This is an excellent article regarding the moral behavior of a true warrior.

Castra Praetoria: Defining The American Warrior

By Your Side-Tenth Avenue North

2010-09-24T09:50:00.007-04:00

Beautiful song. One of my favorites.

"...for He Himself has said, "I will never leave you, nor will I ever forsake you."

Guts and Glitter

2010-09-17T10:58:00.003-04:00

I was curious about some of these Disney princesses, since I didn't watch the movies as a child. So I headed over to YouTube, watched Mulan at the suggestion of a SS teacher, and cried. I watched The Little Mermaid 2-- and cried. I watched The Little Mermaid: Ariel's Beginning-- and cried.

This proves that this female, Spartan-like individual does, indeed, have a heart.

I'm scared as to what will happen to me when I watch all the other "good" Disney films.

That is all.

Motivated! Dedicated! Not...

2010-09-15T19:40:00.004-04:00

I'm feeling really down right now because I'm trapped in my house on account of this gargantuan amount of catch-up school work I'm doing. I tried giving it a more adventurous name, like "School Camp", but that only reminded me more of how I want to be outdoors, sweating and panting and physically exerting myself.

Anyhow...

I ran across this whilst researching for a paper I have to do. It actually made me smile. Maybe you will, too.

This is on ancient Athenian women:

7:05 Rises

7:08 Eats small piece of bread soaked in wine. Is still hungry, but must be careful about her figure

7:09 Pecks husband on cheek and sends him off to the agora. Sighs. Looks at the four bare (slightly tinted) walls. Rarely allowed out of the house, she prepares for another day at home.

7:15 Summon hand maiden to cool her with huge peacock feather.

8:30 All dressed up with no place to go, she wanders into the kitchen, eyes a piece of honey cake. Resists.

9:27 Hears argument between two servants, rushes out to mediate.

11:15 Wanders into the courtyard near flowerbed where slave girls are spinning and giggling. Asks to join them. Is reminded this is improper behavior - they suggest she ready herself for lunch.

12:15 Husband arrives, chiding her about the foolishness of make-up. Pretends to agree. Husband leaves at 12:22

3:00 Instructs daughter on her duties of being a wife.

8:05 Husband and wife sit down at low table to dinner; bread, oil, wine, a few figs, small portion of fish (only 320 calories) and beans. She hears about his day. He tells her she should not bother about the affairs of men. Pretends to agree. She is too hungry to argue.

10:10 Falls asleep. Does not dream of tomorrow.

Hardy har. I'm glad to be an American.

Confession 1

2010-09-12T14:38:00.009-04:00

I was saved very very young, at around four years old. I remember hearing a song about wanting to "see Jesus", and as far as I knew, I wanted to see Him too. So my mom explained to me about sin, Jesus and the cross; the whole nine yards. I remember praying the best I knew how to be saved.

I grew up in the church, doing my best to "check off all items on the lists" that various children's ministries gave us. Say your scripture, sing your hymns, advance in AWANA, etc.. At middle school camp as a rising 6th grader, I learned that a relationship with Jesus is much more than a list, and I recommitted my life there.

I am not at all trying to throw down the things the Children's Ministry and Middle School have us do such as AWANA, Sunday School, Choir, Quiet Time, etc.. As a matter of fact, I think it gave me an excellent foundation. It's just that sometimes, you can get so caught up in doing those things, that you forget why you're doing it in the first place.

Middle School still had lists, but this time, I found that I actually wanted to do it for the sake of doing it, as opposed to doing it to get an award at the end of the year. Still, I struggled with doubt as to whether or not my salvation experience was genuine or not.

It seemed like the more I grew, doubts would return more often. I'm starting to think that the farther along in your relationship you are, you are either convicted of wrong-doing faster, or your conviction is stronger when you get it. Perhaps it was merely conviction that kept me wondering, "Am I really saved? After all, if I'm saved, I wouldn't be feeling guilty and doubting all the time, right?"

At any rate, I found myself periodically praying "safety prayers", you know, "Dear God, just in case I'm not saved...." I was hesitant to talk to anyone about it. I'm usually hesitant to talk to any SS teachers or people like that about spiritual issues unless it's someone I REALLY trust. Trust issues tend to be--an issue, sometimes.

Doubts kept coming and going; come to think of it, I don't think they'll ever stop coming. I didn't want to "walk" on some church camp or mission trip; I don't like being "swept away" with the crowd. One Sunday, when Dr. Hill was preaching, I just decided to get it off my chest.

The counselor shared about Satan always trying to stop us with doubt. She also mentioned that there could be some unconfessed sin in my life. She was right. I think there will always be unconfessed sin, but with this particular sin, I knew it was a sin-yet I kept on doing it. But regardless of sin, if you are saved and living for the Lord, Satan still wants you, and will do anything to tear you apart. Doubt is one of the tactics he uses, and my mind tends to be a weak spot for me.

When I got home, I took a minute to look over the process of salvation again, and that gave me the assurance that I was saved, because I remember understanding, repenting, and accepting. One thing that boggles me sometimes is that it's so--easy. With salvation, I don't have to do anything, but believe and accept. Because it's so simple, it causes me to wonder, "Is that really it?" And then the question turns into, "Did I mean it enough?" But like the counselor shared, the proof comes from your life. Do I love my brothers and sisters? Do I have a desire to grow and know God more? Do I have a desire to please Him? Do I want to tell others of this man named Jesus I know?

Sometimes I wonder if I was saved when I was four, or when I prayed one of those safety prayers. I mean, could I, at four years old, really, truly understand it and mean it? I think so, because it is that simple.

Of 1812

2010-08-07T10:30:00.004-04:00

Great Britain, why won't you leave us alone?
I thought that we were done
With fighting each other and striving together,
Drenched in tears under the sun.

You had no right to stop our ship,
No, you had no right.
So you know what we are going to do?
Oh yes, you know we will fight.

Our brothers will not go unavenged,
We are coming after you.
Our hearts are ready, you'd better prepare
To have your own run through.

The outcome of yet another strife
Remains as a future unseen.
But you will gain a healthy fear
Of our Army, Navy, and Marines.

Good Morning, Merry Sunshine

2010-08-06T12:09:00.002-04:00

Good morning, merry sunshine,
How did you wake so soon?
You've scared the little stars away,
And shined away the moon;
I saw you go to sleep last night
Before I ceased my play;
How did you get way over here,
And pray, where did you stay?

I never go to sleep, dear child,
I just go round to see,
My little children of the East,
Who rise and watch for me;
I waken all the birds and bees,
And flowers on my way,
And now come back to see the child,
Who stayed out late at play.

Entry 3, ARG 2010

2010-07-01T12:29:00.003-04:00

June 26, 2010

2:30 Sat morning. We're in the nicest hotel yet. It seems like we've gone from rough to nicer to nicest hotels. Before I forget, I need to mention we have translators from Word of Life Argentina. One of them is really funny. Another one likes playing with my hair. The (FBC) girls keep swooning over one or two of them (WoL translators). It's annoying. It's distracting. It doesn't matter much, I guess, and it won't matter pretty soon. We sung at a Chorus School (on) Friday and felt so outdone by them. I signed a little kid's paper. Friday's last concert was probably the best by far. Not only did the drama, choir, and orchestra teams perform well, I had an opportunity to discuss God and faith with a girl very roughly my age. I did my best, but she wanted proof of God, and I told her God requires faith. I half broke down thinking about the decision (or almost decision) she made. Some friends (Chelsea and David) reminded me it's not my job to save someone. It's my job to share. I pray the seed that was planted will be watered and harvested by another.

I love this place, but I miss the American flag. I think national pride (culture), comfort, and schedules have been my main sacrifices this week.

There are no street traffic lights, signs, or markings. No one obeys the speed limit. No one will stop for pedestrians unless you're directly in front of them. There are dogs everywhere, and I saw two nearly make out. Eww.

Entry 2, ARG 2010

2010-07-01T12:03:00.004-04:00

June 23, 2010

It's Wednesday-I think. Yesterday was somewhat hectic. We had a good concert last night. The toilets at our hotel were nasty. The beds were musty. The room was small. But I haven't gotten nauseous, (despite the fact the food is weird) which evens it all out. I'm looking forward to US food. I'm looking forward to the American flag. The US beat Algeria. (Here was a break in time)

The first part of this entry was written on a bus to the Word of Life, er, Palabra de Vida campus. Now I'm on the bus for the next (now 6) hours to Santa Fe. Or Cordoba. I forgot. I'm sure it's Santa Fe. I had a good 30 minute nap, and am surprised I didn't sleep longer on account of the stress and lack of sleep I got last night. There's a bunch of cows, as expected. There are sheep, too. I've only seen one flock, though. I was surprised at 7:30 (this morning) when it was still dark outside when I remembered that it's winter here. The sky looks like winter, too. It hasn't been too cold as of late. The coolest times are in the morning and evening; it warms up during the day. The trees here are cool. Big, nice, meaty trees. Not the wimpy pines and palms in Florida. Some girls keep flirting with the Argentine guys. One girl got an e-mail address. There are a lot of farms along the road I'm on. I'm going to read the book I was supposed to read on the plane now.

Entry 1, ARG 2010

2010-07-01T11:57:00.003-04:00

June 2, 2010
9:35

I'm currently approaching Santiago de Cuba. It's 9:35, and I've been flying for about an hour and a half. I've been able to complete some Algebra, which is quite a feat considering I'm in a very nice plane with flight attendants 10 feet away from me with food and drink. This plane is quite the contrast from the previous plane. The previous one was an old, cramped, freezing cold propeller plane that looked like it didn't belong in a modern air fleet. There were two aisles, both smack against the walls of the 20 foot wide body. This one is much nicer. There are three aisles and plenty of leg room. Lasagna and chicken are coming my way, waiting to be selected. I think I'll pick chicken.

The Miami flight was delayed for 30-45 minutes on account of pouring rain. The only other incident was where we hit what I believe to be turbulence, and about three girls screamed in unison. The flight crew found it amusing.

Pick me!

2010-06-20T20:26:00.013-04:00

When people quote Isaiah 6:8, I almost always picture the Trinity talking amongst themselves in an airy room with ionic pillars. They are discussing strategy of how to tell man of his iniquity and of God's holiness and perfection. Then God says, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" I then picture me, five inches high, hopelessly jumping up and down with one hand in the air saying, "Ooh, ooh, pick me! PICK ME!"

While it is true that I have the opportunity every day to tell people of the Creator, tomorrow, I, along with around 130 of high schoolers, have the privilege of going to a whole other continent and sharing with Argentines the hope of our Savior. This is something big. This is something that doesn't happen everyday. For the next nine days, we will be immersed in a different country and culture, putting on concerts in an effort to introduce people to a God who cares.

As you can imagine, I am excited, nervous, excited, etc. I'm hoping to take at least some pictures, but this may be somewhat difficult as we will be on the go the majority of the time. I was even considering posting updates on here, but again, I don't know how that would work, since our internet access will be purposefully limited, if not non-existent altogether.

I am going to attempt to keep something at least remotely similar to a journal whilst down there. Perhaps I could post the entries when I return.

Half-breed

2010-06-16T07:14:00.007-04:00

I found this on one of the Facebook pages that I "like". Being half-Filipino myself, I thought it was interesting. It's kind of corny, but interesting all the same. Note: Edited for punctuation.

"Roses are red, Filipinos are brown. You mess with us, and your going down. My pride, I will not hide. My Filipino race, I will not disgrace. My Filipino blood flows hot & true. My Filipino peeps,
I will stand by you. I will be a proud Filipino till the day I die, our flag always stands high. Filipino pride in my mind, Filipino blood is my kind. So step aside and let me through, 'cause it's all about the Filipino crew"

Pinoy!

Our National Anthem

2010-06-12T07:18:00.008-04:00

O! say can you see by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
O! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Prologue

2010-06-09T10:12:00.007-04:00

Allison was walking down the pavement towards the corner of Old Kings Road and St Augustine. A slight breeze offered little comfort to the searing, 99-degree heat. To her right were quite a few sketchy characters, sure signs of trouble. They waddled around with pants to their knees and cornrows to their shoulders. She couldn’t understand the drawling language they spoke. It seemed to her a depraved dialect of English that she had heard all her life, but had never taken the time to learn. One playfully shoved the other, causing a rousing effect for the otherwise sluggish group. They joked and shoved, shoved and joked for no purpose than to bring some form of amusement into their boring lives. These types of people could possibly be deadly if provoked, but she knew just as well that if they were left alone, they wouldn’t bite.

Still, it never hurt to be too cautious. So she temporarily diverted her route to the party shop close by and waited for the gaggle to pass. Inside the store, she basked in the air conditioning and browsed the various wares. Airheads, Super Bubble, and Snickers bars all beckoned her deeply. However, the money in her pocket already had a predestined purpose. So she sighed and exited, trusting that her sweet tooth would be satisfied at a latter time.

Wary of the posse, Allison inconspicuously edged out onto the path yet again. She breathed a sigh of relief as they were nowhere in sight. The musky scents of the city once more infused her nostrils. She disliked the steaming stench of dog waste and urine. The odor of gas fumes mixed with the former to create an unpleasant elixir. For a vanishing second, she wished she lived in the countryside, where there were no thugs, smells, or other city unpleasantries. Fresh air, calming silence, and kindly people existed in that magical land, she thought. But she was raised a city girl, and street sludge ran through her veins. She could not survive without the sound of fire trucks or police cars at least every other day.

In no time, the scents turned for the better. The fresh smell of newly washed and dried laundry was omnipresent. Rita’s Laundromat was the source of this bliss. The open doors allowed the innocent freshness to escape out into the vile outdoors. The contrast was worth noting, indeed. It was through this pergola that Allison glided through to check on the family’s laundry order.

“Allison! I’m almost done,” greeted Rita.
“It’s alright. Take your time.”

Allison looked around at the various and plentiful laundry apparatuses around the room. The front-loading washers had a hypnotizing effect on anyone who dared to look at them. The dryers had a similar effect, as their steady whir was enough to lull anybody. Two older fellows were shooting away at the pool table. Allison was drawn into the match.

“Well young lady, who are you rooting for today?” asked Pedro.
“I don’t know. You look like you’re winning, but Jeff has a good setup there,” she answered.
“Ha. You’re funny,” Pedro chimed.

Allison smiled and headed back to the counter. Rita traded Allison the pile of freshly folded laundry for $25.00. Goodbyes were exchanged as she headed out the door back into the wilderness. She had one more stop.

Construction workers lined the ripped up road. It was hard to pick out her target, as he bore orange safety garb as all the others did. It was with much effort and inquiry that she finally found her man.

“Hi Dad.”
“Hey Alli. Thanks a lot,” Dad replied as he took from her a parcel of food and water.
“No problem. Mom says dinner’s at 7.”
“OK. Thanks. Be safe walking home, now.”
“Yup.”

The walk back to the apartment was eventless, and soon, she recognized the two dark-headed figures playing around in the lot as her 6 year-old brother and 4-year old sister. Walking past them, she entered the open door of her home and dropped the laundry on the couch. She didn’t want to fold it. But she would die of boredom otherwise. So she dutifully picked up one article after the other, slowly assaulting the hill of clothing.

Mom soon walked in, trailing the Siblings behind her. She expressed her gratitude in Allison’s selfless, sacrificing act of home courtesy and duty.

“By the way,” she began, “you’ve got mail.”

She handed Allison a plain envelope. Upon examination, Allison discovered the letter to be from Jason Danforth #2010018903, Montgomery Correction Cntr. 4727 Lannie Rd. She opened hastily and read:

“Hi Allison. I got your letter yesterday. I’m glad you think that tomatoes are fruit, too. Glad to hear you’re doing well. Thanks for the pictures you sent me. I sent you something. I hope you get it alright. I can’t wait to see you soon. You need to convince your mom to let you. Happy 16th birthday, I didn’t forget!
Love you! -Dad”

Whooaa-bama...

2010-06-08T15:58:00.003-04:00

How very professional... Sure does make the U.S look snazzy, right? *sarcasm

Teaser

2010-06-08T09:18:00.005-04:00

This is the beginning of a regional short story. This is actually a school assignment, but I thought I'd put it up here for fun.

Allison was walking down the pavement towards the corner of Old Kings Road and St Augustine. A slight breeze offered little comfort to the searing, 99-degree heat. To her right were quite a few sketchy characters, sure signs of trouble. They waddled around with pants to their knees and cornrows to their shoulders. She couldn’t understand the drawling language they spoke. It seemed to her a depraved dialect of English that she had often heard, but never taken the time to learn. One playfully shoved the other, causing a rousing effect for the otherwise sluggish group. They joked and shoved, shoved and joked for no purpose than to bring some form of amusement into their boring lives. These types of people could possibly be deadly if provoked, but she knew just as well that if they were left alone, they wouldn’t bite.

Tattoos...

2010-06-01T16:03:00.010-04:00

...I had an opinion on them. But it keeps changing. I think this would make an interesting post and platform for debate. In the meantime, what's your take?

Funny #1

2010-05-20T15:33:00.005-04:00

It's very well near pitch black in the first floor of the Lindsay Building. I'm there for drama rehearsal, and am early. After inspecting the floor, I start to head back to the lobby to reset and draw up a plan. On the way, I hear footsteps. My instincts go a little too high up the threat matrix, and I assume this unseen body is following me to do who knows what. Naturally, I try to escape. I think I'll just dart into this room over here...yeah...that's what I'll do. I turn sharp----BAM!

Stars.

The "dark room" was a closed door. My forehead is now bruised.

You can laugh if you want.

Ugh

2010-05-20T11:54:00.005-04:00

For the past month and especially this week, I was reminded of just how much a girl I really am. (No, dear readers, not THAT kind of week.) I am tired. I am tired physically, mentally, and nearly emotionally as well. Right now, my shoulders, left thigh, and right calf hurt. My chest just stopped aching. And, I finally caved and asked mom for a hug (which she graciously bestowed upon me). I've recently begun to work out. So that's probably why I'm so dead.

The aliens are coming!

2010-05-05T17:04:00.023-04:00

First off, sorry about the assumption regarding the last post. The post was meant to convey my views for a "what if" situation. Maybe I shouldn't have assumed...eh.

At any rate, I've taken notice to the bogus claims that the new Arizona immigration law is racist, threatens freedom, discriminates against Hispanics, etc.

The law was meant to protect Arizona and essentially, the United States. Period. It doesn't say, "We hate the Mexicans and think they are inferior, therefore, ARREST THEM ALL!". It says that if an Officer has probable cause to believe a person is an alien, he has the power to arrest him. With Arizona being smack dab next to Mexico, I think seeing a Mexican could be probable cause.

Not racism; probable cause.

This reminds me of something else. Something about stopping people from Middle Eastern countries before letting them in our airspace... Is racist, while you've got 9/11, the Christmas bomber, and threats from the Middle East coming from--you guessed it--the Middle East.

Not racism; probable cause.

I'm not against immigration at all. My own grandparents immigrated from the Philippines years ago. You see, they came here legally, not to mention devoid of drugs and smuggled human beings. I don't have any beef with immigrants; only the illegal ones. And the drug-smuggling ones. And the human traffickers. You want to come here, you come here legally. Capiche?

I remember an interesting point made by a FOX news (yes, FOX news) viewer. "What's the difference between asking a person for their immigration papers and asking a person for proof of healthcare insurance?" Hmmm...good point, sir.

At any rate, way to go Arizona! Stay safe and strong Arizona law enforcement and National Guard!

Go U.S.A!

On a side note, I'm removing Sean Hannity from my political influences tab. Not because he doesn't influence me, but because I think he's a little...rude. I don't disagree with his views, but the whole interrupting thing is a little annoying and slightly embarrassing. Ah well. Go Glen Beck.

National Day of Prayer

2010-04-17T21:08:00.003-04:00

So I hear news that President Obama canceled prayer day. I myself have not looked into this, so I don't know the specifics--but I do know this. The absence of a National Prayer Day doesn't mean we can't still pray.

As a matter of fact, this shouldn't be of too much alarm, if you think about it.

It shouldn't be a surprise. America has slowly and surely turned Her back on God, after all.

And really, shouldn't we be praying for our Nation regardless of a set date? I realize that a set, National day of prayer would help bring a sense of unity, togetherness, and a day of focus on the Nation. But why can't we pray for our Country everyday?

Just a thought.

Tax

2010-04-15T15:56:00.003-04:00

Tax Day!

This will be short and--not well written. Here's my take on taxes.

They are necessary to run government. Unfortunately, I may not always agree with the government. However, I still need to pay my taxes because--that's just what a good citizen does, and God commands submission to government. Or something like that.

So yeah. That's that, overly simplified.

Silly, silly Cosmopolitan...

2010-02-26T15:51:00.007-05:00

On the cover of Cosmopolitan magazine: "HOW TO TOUCH A NAKED MAN".

Huh?

I have to be taught how to reach out............AND TOUCH??

Who knew-- an article JUST HAD to be written telling women HOW TO touch someone. Whatever happened to instinct, communication, and...pardon me...originality?

Not to mention to the overall lasciviousness Cosmopolitan blatantly promotes...

Oh, the days we live in...

Bring me to Life

2010-02-20T10:42:00.003-05:00

Evanescence's "Bring me to Life" is one of my favorite songs. If you think about it, it's got some Christian application in it.

How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb
Without a soul, my spirit sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home

Wake me up
(Wake me up inside)
I can't wake up
(Wake me up inside)
Save me
(Call my name and save me from the dark)

Wake me up
(Bid my blood to run)
I can't wake up
(Before I come undone)
Save me
(Save me from the nothing I've become)

Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life

Wake me up
(Wake me up inside)
I can't wake up
(Wake me up inside)
Save me
(Call my name and save me from the dark)

Wake me up
(Bid my blood to run)
I can't wake up
(Before I come undone)
Save me
(Save me from the nothing I've become)

I've been living a lie
There's nothing inside
Bring me to life

Frozen inside without your touch
Without your love, darling
Only you are the life among the dead

All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything

Without thought, without voice, without a soul
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life

Wake me up
(Wake me up inside)
I can't wake up
(Wake me up inside)
Save me
(Call my name and save me from the dark)

Wake me up
(Bid my blood to run)
I can't wake up
(Before I come undone)
Save me
(Save me from the nothing I've become)

I've been living a lie
There's nothing inside
Bring me to life

In the earnest search for something more, the author realizes there is something missing. In the song's context, I think she is referring to love.

I look at this song and see that this numb feeling, this "lie" of a life is the manifestation of a life without Christ. In this song, one can sing, begging God to show them a life un-frozen--a life worth something. The Christian realizes that there "must be something more"--that something more is Jesus and the purpose He brings.

Humans live in spiritual darkness apart from Christ. It is a cold and dormant life. God saw into our eyes and saw our "numb", sinful "cores". But once Christ breaths new life into you, you can't help but say, "Now that I know what I'm without, you can't just leave me." Once you taste God, you can't get enough of Him!

I may be stretching it, but I find it interesting, nonetheless. Next up, Linkin Park's "Numb"! Or not. Well, you never know...

"Careful mommy..."

2010-02-18T21:22:00.010-05:00

Kristie Moore of Canada is one of the backups for the Canadian curling team in the Vancouver Olympics. She is also 5 months pregnant.

I was surprised at the reaction by pro-lifers-at first. They laud her. Why, exactly?

I think I've got it.

She didn't find out she was pregnant until just weeks before Team Canada invited her to the team. The pro-choice argument here would be something like, "She should abort her pregnancy so she can compete unencumbered". Well, apparently, Team Canada let her play as a back-up.

Yes, kudos to her; she kept her child and didn't see her child as an "obstacle", if you will. But part of me disagrees with her decision to compete.

She may be young and fit, but that doesn't change the fact that she is carrying a very delicate, growing child. Any physical stress has the potential to harm that baby. The very competitive and stressful environment of the Olympics doesn't help much, either.

Of course, I do realize that she is a backup. Besides, Curling doesn't look that physically demanding, anyway. I could be wrong, and probably am; but the more the argument!

She chose life, and with life comes responsibility. Perhaps for her, competing while carrying delicate life is responsible. But it almost seems contradictory to me that she would keep her child, then engage in activity that could lead to the child's death!

Maybe I'm being overcautious and oversensitive. But I know a family who almost lost their children on more than one occasion throughout the pregnancies. Knowing their story has given me an understanding of just how delicate and sensitive a pregnancy can be.

Ms. Moore, please be careful.

Happy Washington's Birthday!

2010-02-15T10:12:00.008-05:00

So it's Presidents Day!!!

Mixed feelings here.

If I read history correctly, Presidents Day was originally called Washington's Birthday, and was celebrated on February 22. Go figure--Washington was born on the 22nd. In 1971, the holiday was shifted by Congress to the third Monday in February by the Uniform Monday Holiday act.

So here we are today celebrating Presidents Day.

From Wikipedia:
" The first attempt to create a Presidents Day occurred in 1951 when the "President's Day National Committee" was formed by Harold Stonebridge Fischer of Compton, California, who became its National Executive Director for the next two decades. The purpose was not to honor any particular President, but to honor the office of the Presidency. It was first thought that March 4, the original inauguration day, should be deemed Presidents Day. However, the bill recognizing the March 4th date was stalled in the Senate Judiciary Committee (which had authority over national holidays). That committee felt that, because of its proximity to Lincoln's and Washington Birthdays, three holidays so close together would be unduly burdensome. During this time, however, the Governors of a majority of the individual states issued proclamations declaring March 4 to be Presidents Day in their respective jurisdictions. Later on, the Washington's Birthday holiday would become known as Presidents Day. "

So if we are honoring the office of the Presidency, why can't we honor the Legislative and Judicial offices as well? I mean, the original "Presidents Day" was to honor George Washington, not the office as a whole. Just a thought.

Saddle up

2010-02-14T21:09:00.005-05:00

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton believes that "furthering UN sanctions may be the only way to persuade Iran to abandon its nuclear ambitions". Huh?

"I would like to figure out a way to handle it in as peaceful an approach possible, and I certainly welcome any meaningful engagement, but ... we don't want to be engaging while they are building their bomb." -Hillary Clinton

Why don't we threaten them with war before their bomb is built? Israel is willing to stand up to this bully nation, and they're only a fraction of the size of the United States!

Woot again

2010-01-31T21:03:00.001-05:00

Yea baby...check this out

Thank you God for letting me find this...

Ohhh-bama

2010-01-29T08:08:00.003-05:00

Our president has a statue of himself as a boy in Indonesia. Kinda sounds familiar...

The one on the top is Josef Stalin, the one on the bottom is Sadaam Hussein. Hussein, by the way, is also our president's middle name...

Illusion

2010-01-28T21:25:00.002-05:00

I call this assault and battery, not just aggravated hazing.

I disagree with sororities and fraternities to begin with. The members are adults behaving like little children by having exclusive clubs and such. Kindergartners do that; not grown-ups.

It is sad that people so desire to be a part of these groups so much that they are willing to be openly beat and humiliated under the guise of a "rite of passage". They don't realize that they are being bullied and mocked. It's not worth it. It's not right. Sororities and fraternities should be dismembered and destroyed.

State of the Dazzled

2010-01-28T10:27:00.006-05:00

I was able to watch part of the State of the Union address last night. I admit, I only understood about a quarter of what exactly was being discussed. The very fact that I don't understand bothers me. I'm not one to take a stand about something without having at least a general to mid-depth understanding of it first.

Unfortunately, that causes me to shirk away sometimes. Everything appears so complicated and just, well, big. But somehow, I'm still drawn. I don't know why, but I am, and I don't plan on letting the fear of not understanding things drag me down.

I suppose it takes time. There's a lot of issues out there, and there's no way I'll be like Coulter, Palin, or Limbaugh overnight. I'll stick with what I know, maybe start local, and keep my heads in the books-er, computer screen.

Let it snow

2010-01-24T21:54:00.001-05:00

Well, at least someone came clean.

(see article)

Global warming is a funny concept considering the weather we had here in Florida. We've actually had cold weather for winter this year. That's a big deal. We had people screaming, "Global cooling!! Global cooling!!". Well, almost anyway. I was happy, but started missing those Florida 70's. I'll probably be wishing the opposite come April to September.

I think the earth is just being the earth; going through warming and cooling periods.

Even if there is such a thing as global warming, I rest knowing God has everything in the palm of His hand.

People, God offers so deep a peace and security, it's unfathomable. He loves you, and wants you to get to know Him. I encourage you to put your trust in the Prince of Peace.

...that all men are created equal...

2010-01-22T21:57:00.003-05:00

I went on Drudge Report and found this horrendous article about a white only basketball league. Even if it is a joke, I believe it to be extremely inappropriate.

If it's street ball that he's trying to avoid, excluding blacks and other non-caucasians is not the answer.

It's not just blacks that cause (for lack of a better word) disruption. They're not the only ones who are walking around with their pants on the ground, dealing drugs and birthing babies with crack infused in their blood systems. I know that there are just as many whites that exhibit the same behavior.

To be sure, there are plenty of blacks who rise above this awfully common stereotype, and I have the pleasure of knowing many who rise above the low standard we have subconsciously (or consciously) set. However, it is very sad that so many blacks choose to act in such a distasteful manner. I think Martin Luther King Jr. rolls in his grave when he looks at them today.

Although I can understand his reasoning behind his decision/joke, I disagree with it. Whatever the case may be, I believe that it flies in the face of one of many self-evident truths, that "...all men are created equal...".

I believe that there is alternative to exclusion on the basis of race. Why not exclude on the basis of behavior? If your behavior is unacceptable, you should be booted from the league. End of story. The only people excluded are the people who don't truly need to be there. Man's rights are intact, and justice is equally and sweetly administered and preserved.

The Few, the Patient, the Abstinent

2010-01-22T17:58:00.003-05:00

I watched Sarah and Bristol Palin on Oprah today. Oh. My. Goodness.

Putting aside my fact-ridden assumption that the whole interview was biased, I'd like to focus on Oprah's ~~interrogation~~ interview with Bristol regarding her abstinence commitment.

Yes, a lot teens are having sex. Relatively speaking; abstinence is "unrealistic". But you must realize that there's still that portion of us who don't. You know, the ones who have stood up and (for one reason or another) pledged to save that experience for the one we will spend the rest of our lives with. To us, it doesn't matter that it's unrealistic. Are we insane? Perhaps. However, I can safely say that we who haven't engaged in intimate activity don't have STD's. We aren't pregnant. We haven't suffered the emotional consequences of giving our bodies and souls to another prematurely. On our wedding nights, we can look our husbands/wives in the eye without shame and regret.

Once a commitment is made, whether it is realistic or not goes out the door. And in a world that is constantly bombarding us, telling us that it's fine to enjoy yourself out of wedlock, stats are something we don't have time to worry about.

On a far to the side note, kudos to the rest of the Palin family. I bet all this media attention wears hard and thin on the nerves sometimes. Stay strong Mr. Palin, Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper, Trig, and Tripp. Mrs. Palin-- please DON'T GET TOO POLITICAL!