"How many kids do you want?"
"I don't know. I kind of need a husband before I have kids. But I think I want a lot."
"I hope you have a lot of kids. You need a lot of kids. Imma see you at the Food Lion one day with all of your chillins' and I'm gonna get to meet them. Do you know what I'm gonna tell them, Ms. Sandy? I'm gonna say, 'You've got yourself a good mama there. She was my mama first. I was one of her school babies before you were her baby.'"
----------------------------
"Sandy! You gotta come to the football game on Friday. I'll be starting and you'll hear my name over the loud speaker a lot. Whenever you hear it, I'll then hear you on the field, yelling for me!"
"What will I be yelling?"
"That's MY CHILD! That's my boy! MY BOY made that play! Oh yeah, LOOK AT MY CHILD RUNNIN' SO FAST! ... I'm gonna do so good on Friday and you'll be so proud of me!"
"I'm already proud of you, baby."
"I know you are Ms. Sandy. You the only one."
----------------------------
"Guess what. I'm taking AP English IV!"
"You're doing WHAT? Why are you doing that?"
"Well, Ms. San-San...I figured if I could pass your class, I could do anything."
---------------------------
"All right, children. Let's quiet down. Let me take roll."
*children continue to talk*
"I'm not yelling. I'm not going to yell to get your attention. Children, you know better than this."
One of my children: "MS. SANDY SAID BE QUIET. You either listen to Momma or you deal with me."
*dead silence in classroom*
"Go ahead, Ms. Sandy. I'm ready to learn today."
----------------------------
I'm up at the white board, writing instructions for the day.
Student #1: "Ms. Sandy, I have a question!"
I turn around, "Yes?"
Student #1 "...I forgot."
I turned back to the board, continue writing.
Student #2: "San-San!"
I turn around, "Yes, honey?"
Student #2: "Never mind."
Student #1: "Sanna-sin..."
"What's up, darlin'?"
Student #1: "I forgot again."
I turn back around to the board to finish writing instructions and I hear, "I told you she flips her hair around. It hurts if it catches you in the face."
-------------------------
I walk past two students in the hallway.
#1: "Hey, Sandy!"
"Hey, baby!"
#2: "Hi!"
"Hey, darlin."
#1: "I told you she won't call you 'baby' ... you're not her real baby. She only says that to her kids and you never had her full-time."
Friday, October 12, 2012
Questionnaire.
While I was subbing one day, I decided to go read through my cousin Hannah's blog so that I could re-live the cuteness that is Baby Eden. In one of her posts I found this little questionnaire that she tagged me in to do, so I decided (eighteen months later) to do it!
1. If you have pets, do you see them as merely animals or are they members of your family? I no longer have any pets. I have had three dogs in my lifetime (Lady, Ginger, and Milley) for a total of about sixteen years. Milley lived with me in Raleigh for almost two years before we had to put her down back in July. When she was living with me, she was my baby. Lady and Ginger were just pets, but being Milley's sole provider put a whole new idea of having a pet. I've also had a collection of goldfish, but they don't really count.
2. If you could have a dream come true, what would it be? Oh gosh. I have lots of dreams. Maybe I would publish a book? Lose all the weight? Get married? Meet Tim Tebow? MARRY TIM TEBOW -- I like that one. Travel endlessly at no cost to me. Adopt some orphans and live happily ever after?
Nope. I've got it. I had a dream a few weeks ago that I did marry Tim Tebow (from my subconscious to God's ears) and his wedding present to me was a plane ticket. Not for me, but for my Belarussian brother, Petr. My family participated in ABRO (American Belarus Relief Organization) for several years and had Petr come and live with us for five summers. For my wedding present, Tim flew Petr to America (I haven't seen him since July, 2007) for a month to be in my wedding and reconnect with our family. I think about that boy a lot. I would love to know how he's doing.
3. What would you do with a billion dollars? Travel. Pay off my car. Go to grad school debt-free. Build a house. Build my parents a house. Invest it so I would never have to work again. Open a school. Open orphanages and schools overseas. Adopt said orphans. Go see Petr.
4. What helps to pull you out of a bad mood? My love language is acts of service. Someone doing something good for me (especially without being asked!) is a way to bring out the sunshine for any day.
5. What is your bedtime routine? I haven't had a "routine" in years. Now it's more of a "wake up on the couch at some point in the night and move to the bed to finish the sleeping hours." Back when I did have a routine it looked like this: wash off my make-up, take a sleeping pill, let Milley outside for five minutes, the two of us head over to bed, cuddle while watching an episode of "Friends" and then fall asleep until the dreadful alarm makes his appearance into my life.
6. What activities did you do in high school? If you could go back, would you do the same stuff or something different? Oh goodness. High school. Marching band was my main thing. I also participated in the spring musicals, Student Council, Beta Club, National Honor Society, Spanish Honor Society. Among others, I'm sure. I would do high school almost exactly the same. College might be another story (note: I loved my college years, but I would love to experiment to see if the grass would be greener elsewhere).
7. What kind of books do you read? Chick lit. Historical fiction. I want happiness and romance. Daisies, roses, and sunshine. I don't do creepy stuff.
8. How do you see yourself in 10 years? I'll be 33. Wow. 33. That's hard to consider. I don't know. Published? Living in a house I own? Married with kids, maybe? I don't know if I'll be teaching again. Definitely with a Master's Degree. Hopefully have traveled some more.
9. What’s your fear? I have lots of them. Snakes and heights are my biggest ones. Failure. Being cheated on. Dying young.
10. Would you give up all junk food for the rest of your life for the opportunity to see outer space? Nope. I really don't care that much about outer space. I would totally give up junk food for a decent trade-off, but outer space isn't it.
11. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up? Pee. Isn't that everyone's answer? Or maybe it's "hit the snooze button."
12. If you could change one thing about your significant other, what would it be? I don't have a significant other. Next question.
13. If you could pick a new name for yourself, what would it be? I used to be obsessed with the name Elizabeth. I'm pretty content with my name, though. It's recognizable, but spelled atypically.
14. If you had to choose between six months of sun or six months of rain, what would you choose?
Well, I hate rain, so I guess I default to sun. Can we have the sunshine like in the Bahamas? No humidity, a slight breeze? A high of 75 every day? Yes, I choose that.
15. If you could only eat one thing for the next 6 months, what would it be? Oh goodness. Either Asian food or Mexican food. I could live off of queso. And sesame chicken. But that means I couldn't eat pasta. That's probably the hardest question I've ever been asked.
16. What is the thing you enjoy about blogging the most? Events. I like documenting the people that are most important to me. The main problem is is that I hate using my laptop. It's slow and it's bulky. If I had the money laying around for an adapter to get pictures from my camera to my iPad I would be more likely to document it. As it is, any pictures on my camera are super unlikely to ever make it to the blog.
Well, I hate rain, so I guess I default to sun. Can we have the sunshine like in the Bahamas? No humidity, a slight breeze? A high of 75 every day? Yes, I choose that.
15. If you could only eat one thing for the next 6 months, what would it be? Oh goodness. Either Asian food or Mexican food. I could live off of queso. And sesame chicken. But that means I couldn't eat pasta. That's probably the hardest question I've ever been asked.
16. What is the thing you enjoy about blogging the most? Events. I like documenting the people that are most important to me. The main problem is is that I hate using my laptop. It's slow and it's bulky. If I had the money laying around for an adapter to get pictures from my camera to my iPad I would be more likely to document it. As it is, any pictures on my camera are super unlikely to ever make it to the blog.
17. Do you prefer salty or sweet foods? SWEET! I hate salt. I dated a guy once that would load up everything I cooked him with salt and pepper. During one really hormonal (on my end) meal, I barked at him asking why my food wasn't good enough. I let him know that I never had to cook for him again if he didn't like what I fixed. Completely caught off-guard (and probably completely terrified), he said that he loved my cooking. I then waved the salt shaker in his face and asked why he felt it necessary to use so much of this. He proceeded to laugh until he cried. Apparently, he loved salt. He claimed he would "put salt in his toothpaste if it were allowed." He knew I hated it and while my food had good flavor, he also knew it wasn't proper etiquette to simply spoon salt from the shaker at the dinner table. Food was just a gateway.
18. What items are in your purse right now? I currently do not use a purse. I will just grab my card, ID, or some cash whenever I need something. My car is kind of my purse. Anything I could possibly need I'm sure I could find in there.
19. One week, anywhere in the world, all expenses paid – where do you go? Wow. Anywhere? Beirut would definitely make the list -- but I would want to take someone I love with me to show them the incredible place that stole my heart. I've always wanted to see Spain. Or go to an orphange in Uganda. Or Australia, but I would totally need a first class plane ticket to survive that flight.
20. What do you watch on television that you know you shouldn’t?
That I "shouldn't"? Well, I watch "Sister Wives" and I definitely do not condone that lifestyle, but I am fascinated by it. I also used to watch "The Girls Next Door" -- it was a show about Hugh Hefner's (the Playboy founder) girlfriends that lived in the mansion. No, there was nothing illicit shown (and anythingconceived that way was tastefully bleeped out). Again, I was completely fascinated by it. It would never be a lifestyle that I would have and to see people living it...it was like a social experiment.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Poor Girl's Heat
I turned off my air conditioning about a month ago because it was simply too expensive. I have ceiling fans in most rooms in my house so I keep those going 24/7 so I am normally fine, temperature-wise. I was so excited that my electricity was almost cut in half by this simple adjustment this month. Growing up is fun...until the bills start to arrive.
Now that North Carolina seems to have skipped straight from summer's overwhelming humidity to winter's bitter frost, my internal thermometer is unable to completely deal with these kinds of changes. I have been wrapping up in blankets and sweatshirts to beat the chill in the air, but this morning, I just couldn't take it.
As I was getting ready for my day, I couldn't stop shivering from head to toe. My teeth were chattering, for crying out loud! The last time I remember being that cold I was in Kentucky is the middle of March for spring break. I was spending the night with one of my Clearwater sisters in Lexington. She lived in a house with no central heating system and my naive self had packed a tank top and a pair of gym shorts to sleep in.
I knew that if I turned on my heat, my house wouldn't heat up quick enough to do anything for me by the time I dried my hair and put on a bit of make-up.
I needed heat. Immediately.
Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce you to the Poor Girls' Central Heating Unit...
Yes, that is my hair dryer.
No, I'm totally not joking.
Ladies, haven't you ever noticed the heat wave when you walk back into your bathroom after drying your hair? I closed the door to my bathroom, turned my hair dryer on high, and by the time I was dressed and my eye make-up was done, it was nice and comfy in the bathroom. The hum of the dryer was soothing and I soon stopped shivering.
I've talked with multiple girlfriends who are also single and loving this transition time from college/our college town/circle of friends to our independent, grown-up selves. The little things that we never thought we would learn or experiment with are mind blowing. I can now install and uninstall blinds, fearlessly work a power drill, live on a severe budget, and get along just fine by myself.
I can now add "enjoy heat on a budget" to that list!
Now that North Carolina seems to have skipped straight from summer's overwhelming humidity to winter's bitter frost, my internal thermometer is unable to completely deal with these kinds of changes. I have been wrapping up in blankets and sweatshirts to beat the chill in the air, but this morning, I just couldn't take it.
As I was getting ready for my day, I couldn't stop shivering from head to toe. My teeth were chattering, for crying out loud! The last time I remember being that cold I was in Kentucky is the middle of March for spring break. I was spending the night with one of my Clearwater sisters in Lexington. She lived in a house with no central heating system and my naive self had packed a tank top and a pair of gym shorts to sleep in.
I knew that if I turned on my heat, my house wouldn't heat up quick enough to do anything for me by the time I dried my hair and put on a bit of make-up.
I needed heat. Immediately.
Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce you to the Poor Girls' Central Heating Unit...
Yes, that is my hair dryer.
No, I'm totally not joking.
Ladies, haven't you ever noticed the heat wave when you walk back into your bathroom after drying your hair? I closed the door to my bathroom, turned my hair dryer on high, and by the time I was dressed and my eye make-up was done, it was nice and comfy in the bathroom. The hum of the dryer was soothing and I soon stopped shivering.
I've talked with multiple girlfriends who are also single and loving this transition time from college/our college town/circle of friends to our independent, grown-up selves. The little things that we never thought we would learn or experiment with are mind blowing. I can now install and uninstall blinds, fearlessly work a power drill, live on a severe budget, and get along just fine by myself.
I can now add "enjoy heat on a budget" to that list!
Friday, October 5, 2012
August 28th.
I'm a fan of blogs. I love reading about other people's lives. Real life is always more entertaining than fiction. The drama that I, Norah Efron, Steven Spielberg, or Joss Whedon can write is nothing compared to what fate, the fairies, or God Almighty (depending on your personal preference) can script.
I stumbled upon Who Says 8 Is Enough? a bit ago and have loved getting to know her story and read about her nine (yep, NINE. Take that Kate Gosselin) children. Not too far into her blog, she had a posting that revealed the story of her husband's affair. I immediately clicked on the label link and read the whole story, start to finish.
Debi writes with a bite that any woman scorned would appreciate. She never covers up her reality, whether she is writing a letter to the other woman or she is expressing her butterflies about beginning to "date" her husband again. One thing that captivated me while reading was that throughout the journey, she clinged to God's grace -- as efficiently as a woman lost can -- and truly wished to forgive her husband and save her marriage.
During one of her most recent blog posts she wrote this:
August 27th.
It’s the day that forever changed my life,
our life.
It’s a day I hate remembering,
a day I wish I could forget,
but a day that needed to happen so that
August 28th could happen.
August 27th I found out the marriage I was living,
the life I thought I loved
was gone.
August 28th was the day we both decided it was worth fighting for,
worth what we have gone through the past two years;
Often times,
pure hell…
Painful,
awful,
raw,
ripped-open-wound hell.
The profoundness of this statement "a day that needed to happen so that August 28th could happen" gripped me.
I immediately began to flash back to all of the "August 28ths" in my life. Some of them weren't the day after, some of them weren't even the year after, but the August 28ths still exist.
I laid in bed that night, sobbing into my pillow because I knew that a certain gentlemen and I were never going to date. We were too different; too many unkind words had been spoken between us. I had wasted months of my life waiting for him to make a move and it had become clear that it was simply never going to happen. I laid in bed, alone, lonely, sad, mascara coming together in clumps on my cheeks.
After coming home from Clearwater and becoming so life-changingly depressed, I remember a day that I had skipped class (again) and I was laying in my bed, praying for the world to go away. I remember curling up in my purple comforter and through very sleepy eyes, looking up to the front window of my dorm room and scowling at the sun. I remember a few hours later, after napping on and off, my roommate coming in from class and asking if I was going to eat that day. I tucked up my head into the cocoon of the comforter and didn't verbally respond.
The night that a seemingly perfect boy and I broke up, I laid down on our yellow couch in my still-very-new apartment and tried to block out the last words he spoke to me, "You're not worth it." I was completely defeated, completely heartbroken, and very angry. For someone who had told you about the world that he wanted to build for you, with you, around you...to then, in the heat of fight, tell you that you're "not worth it."
When Uncle Barry called to tell us that Hannah was being taken to the hospital for high blood pressure, and Mama explained to us that there was a chance that Hannah or baby Eden could be harmed, I curled up in my Daddy's recliner and turned the TV up louder to try to forget everything she just told me. I was channeling a mental utopia as hard as I could.
But then, August 28th happened.
Psalm 143:8 "Let the morning bring me news of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You."
As I laid in bed with my mascara ruining my favorite pillow case, a received a text from a friend with the words "Psalm 143:8" in it. I grabbed my little pink Bible and flipped to the page. I started praying this verse over and over again. I fell into the Twilight Zone while repeating it in my heart. I wasn't counting sheep, I was praying for news of His unfailing love.
At 6:14 the next morning, the sun was shining so brightly into my dorm room that I was forced to wake up. My head was pounding due to the ceaseless tears the night before, and the mascara had taken over my face, but the sun was shining. The Lord's presence was in my room. I was completely surrounded by warmth and comfort. My roommate let out a groan in the bunk above me and a four-letter word slipped out about the sunshine, but I knew in that moment that I was loved and I wasn't forgotten.
I started going to class again, meeting with my girls, talking to Jesus in a not angry voice. I started to eat actual food (not ice cream) and I started to not curse the sunshine. I learned from Jesus and from my beloved Clearwater family how to love and how to truly live, and I stopped hating them for not being with me. I applied the lessons that I was given over the course of our summer together and became more of the person I was meant to be.
Eden arrived with a perfect strength and her laugh is the reason that I wake up most mornings. When she cuts that precious blue eyes and me and scolds, "Bekah!" or when she giggles and squeals, "MY Bekah Suzanne" I know that the Lord reigns supreme. When she screams at the top of her lungs just to see my reaction and then melts into a fit of joy, I am reminded that things don't come on time, they come on His time.
I have traveled to the Middle East. I have loved the unloved. I kissed the faces of orphans and I have stood where my Jesus stood. I have had coffee dates, popcorn dates, movie nights, noodle nights, sleepovers, and let's-go-swinging-in-the-park playdates with over 200 of the world's most beautiful girls. And I get to call them 'mine'. They wouldn't be mine, at least, not to the depth that they are now. I taught 161 of the best students on the planet. My life is better than the one we talked about building.
August 27ths are the days that people consider checking out. Those days bring only pain and hurt and tears.
August 28ths are the days where the sun is shining too brightly.
Loving the 28th is easy. Being thankful for the 27th is when true love is formed.
I stumbled upon Who Says 8 Is Enough? a bit ago and have loved getting to know her story and read about her nine (yep, NINE. Take that Kate Gosselin) children. Not too far into her blog, she had a posting that revealed the story of her husband's affair. I immediately clicked on the label link and read the whole story, start to finish.
Debi writes with a bite that any woman scorned would appreciate. She never covers up her reality, whether she is writing a letter to the other woman or she is expressing her butterflies about beginning to "date" her husband again. One thing that captivated me while reading was that throughout the journey, she clinged to God's grace -- as efficiently as a woman lost can -- and truly wished to forgive her husband and save her marriage.
During one of her most recent blog posts she wrote this:
August 27th.
It’s the day that forever changed my life,
our life.
It’s a day I hate remembering,
a day I wish I could forget,
but a day that needed to happen so that
August 28th could happen.
August 27th I found out the marriage I was living,
the life I thought I loved
was gone.
August 28th was the day we both decided it was worth fighting for,
worth what we have gone through the past two years;
Often times,
pure hell…
Painful,
awful,
raw,
ripped-open-wound hell.
The profoundness of this statement "a day that needed to happen so that August 28th could happen" gripped me.
I immediately began to flash back to all of the "August 28ths" in my life. Some of them weren't the day after, some of them weren't even the year after, but the August 28ths still exist.
I laid in bed that night, sobbing into my pillow because I knew that a certain gentlemen and I were never going to date. We were too different; too many unkind words had been spoken between us. I had wasted months of my life waiting for him to make a move and it had become clear that it was simply never going to happen. I laid in bed, alone, lonely, sad, mascara coming together in clumps on my cheeks.
After coming home from Clearwater and becoming so life-changingly depressed, I remember a day that I had skipped class (again) and I was laying in my bed, praying for the world to go away. I remember curling up in my purple comforter and through very sleepy eyes, looking up to the front window of my dorm room and scowling at the sun. I remember a few hours later, after napping on and off, my roommate coming in from class and asking if I was going to eat that day. I tucked up my head into the cocoon of the comforter and didn't verbally respond.
The night that a seemingly perfect boy and I broke up, I laid down on our yellow couch in my still-very-new apartment and tried to block out the last words he spoke to me, "You're not worth it." I was completely defeated, completely heartbroken, and very angry. For someone who had told you about the world that he wanted to build for you, with you, around you...to then, in the heat of fight, tell you that you're "not worth it."
When Uncle Barry called to tell us that Hannah was being taken to the hospital for high blood pressure, and Mama explained to us that there was a chance that Hannah or baby Eden could be harmed, I curled up in my Daddy's recliner and turned the TV up louder to try to forget everything she just told me. I was channeling a mental utopia as hard as I could.
But then, August 28th happened.
Psalm 143:8 "Let the morning bring me news of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You."
As I laid in bed with my mascara ruining my favorite pillow case, a received a text from a friend with the words "Psalm 143:8" in it. I grabbed my little pink Bible and flipped to the page. I started praying this verse over and over again. I fell into the Twilight Zone while repeating it in my heart. I wasn't counting sheep, I was praying for news of His unfailing love.
At 6:14 the next morning, the sun was shining so brightly into my dorm room that I was forced to wake up. My head was pounding due to the ceaseless tears the night before, and the mascara had taken over my face, but the sun was shining. The Lord's presence was in my room. I was completely surrounded by warmth and comfort. My roommate let out a groan in the bunk above me and a four-letter word slipped out about the sunshine, but I knew in that moment that I was loved and I wasn't forgotten.
I started going to class again, meeting with my girls, talking to Jesus in a not angry voice. I started to eat actual food (not ice cream) and I started to not curse the sunshine. I learned from Jesus and from my beloved Clearwater family how to love and how to truly live, and I stopped hating them for not being with me. I applied the lessons that I was given over the course of our summer together and became more of the person I was meant to be.
Eden arrived with a perfect strength and her laugh is the reason that I wake up most mornings. When she cuts that precious blue eyes and me and scolds, "Bekah!" or when she giggles and squeals, "MY Bekah Suzanne" I know that the Lord reigns supreme. When she screams at the top of her lungs just to see my reaction and then melts into a fit of joy, I am reminded that things don't come on time, they come on His time.
I have traveled to the Middle East. I have loved the unloved. I kissed the faces of orphans and I have stood where my Jesus stood. I have had coffee dates, popcorn dates, movie nights, noodle nights, sleepovers, and let's-go-swinging-in-the-park playdates with over 200 of the world's most beautiful girls. And I get to call them 'mine'. They wouldn't be mine, at least, not to the depth that they are now. I taught 161 of the best students on the planet. My life is better than the one we talked about building.
August 27ths are the days that people consider checking out. Those days bring only pain and hurt and tears.
August 28ths are the days where the sun is shining too brightly.
Loving the 28th is easy. Being thankful for the 27th is when true love is formed.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Reader's Report: "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything"
When it comes to the Fine Arts, I am an incredible critical person.
I go see a ballet performance and think, "Really? THAT's your best pirouette?"
I go to a school play and judge the backdrop, "That's the best sun that your art teacher could come up with?"
I read a book and judge, "You can get this piece of crap published but an editor won't call me back?"
I had moments like this while I was reading Janelle Brown's "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything".
When I went to visit my local library, I saw a cover that was familiar from my days at B&N. I decided to pick it up and scratch off another book from my incredibly long wish list of books.
Now, let me preface this review by saying that there's a chance I'm biased when it comes to this book. There were many, many similarities between "AWEWWE" and "The Weird Sisters" which I had just finished reading two days beforehand:
--An unexpected pregnancy
--A family who had lost their love and was trying desperately to put the pieces back together
--A sister in debt
--A father misunderstood
We all know how much I loved "The Weird Sisters" and to find it's second-rate cousin was not a pleasant experience.
Through this book, I discovered the real meaning of "a beach read." I had heard that category title plenty, but never understood. Yes, it's a light and fluffy tale that is superficial at best, but is still enjoyable. However, it's new meaning is "A book that you won't cry if the waves wash it away, because you can guess the ending anyhow. If the wind catches a few pages, you won't be missing anything."
Overall, I give it two out of five stars.
This was Ms. Brown's first novel and it shows. I see potential in her, however, here is my biggest concern...
Don't write what you don't know.
I don't think that Ms. Brown has a sister. I also don't know when the last time she stepped into a reputable church was. The bond of sisterhood and the seeking of religious truths are two of the biggest themes in the book. Neither of which Ms. Brown seems to be a decent source.
It's one thing to write about a medical procedure after consulting a surgeon on the proper steps to completion. It's another to write about two of our lives most sacred bonds without a first-hand account. I also don't think it's fair to take the Bible and tweak it to fit your agenda. It says what it says for a reason...and Ms. Brown, what you think it says, is incorrect. Read it from cover to cover before you start passing judgment.
If you're heading on vacation and see a discount copy of this on the shelf, feel free to pick it up. If you're looking for something to swallow you whole by the fire this holiday season, don't waste your time.
I go see a ballet performance and think, "Really? THAT's your best pirouette?"
I go to a school play and judge the backdrop, "That's the best sun that your art teacher could come up with?"
I read a book and judge, "You can get this piece of crap published but an editor won't call me back?"
I had moments like this while I was reading Janelle Brown's "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything".
When I went to visit my local library, I saw a cover that was familiar from my days at B&N. I decided to pick it up and scratch off another book from my incredibly long wish list of books.
Now, let me preface this review by saying that there's a chance I'm biased when it comes to this book. There were many, many similarities between "AWEWWE" and "The Weird Sisters" which I had just finished reading two days beforehand:
--An unexpected pregnancy
--A family who had lost their love and was trying desperately to put the pieces back together
--A sister in debt
--A father misunderstood
We all know how much I loved "The Weird Sisters" and to find it's second-rate cousin was not a pleasant experience.
Through this book, I discovered the real meaning of "a beach read." I had heard that category title plenty, but never understood. Yes, it's a light and fluffy tale that is superficial at best, but is still enjoyable. However, it's new meaning is "A book that you won't cry if the waves wash it away, because you can guess the ending anyhow. If the wind catches a few pages, you won't be missing anything."
Overall, I give it two out of five stars.
This was Ms. Brown's first novel and it shows. I see potential in her, however, here is my biggest concern...
Don't write what you don't know.
I don't think that Ms. Brown has a sister. I also don't know when the last time she stepped into a reputable church was. The bond of sisterhood and the seeking of religious truths are two of the biggest themes in the book. Neither of which Ms. Brown seems to be a decent source.
It's one thing to write about a medical procedure after consulting a surgeon on the proper steps to completion. It's another to write about two of our lives most sacred bonds without a first-hand account. I also don't think it's fair to take the Bible and tweak it to fit your agenda. It says what it says for a reason...and Ms. Brown, what you think it says, is incorrect. Read it from cover to cover before you start passing judgment.
If you're heading on vacation and see a discount copy of this on the shelf, feel free to pick it up. If you're looking for something to swallow you whole by the fire this holiday season, don't waste your time.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Reader's Report: "The Weird Sisters"
I worked in a local Barnes & Noble for close to two years on-and-off in college. To say that I loved it would be an understatement. I had the greatest boss ever--with multiple jobs since then, no one is yet to top her--and I adored the people I worked with. Best of all, I was surrounded by a sanctuary of books every single day. I was paid to talk about books. I was paid to hold them, read them, sell them.
While I was working there, I had an ongoing list of books that I wanted to read. I would keep a pack of Post-its in my badge so I could scribble down the title and author whenever a new, intriguing title came into my life.
Since I moved back to my hometown, the nearest B&N is about a half-hour drive away. It is a great thing for my wallet because it forces me to browse my local library (which just happens to be two blocks away).
I ran into the library the other day to pick up something to read over the weekend. As I was walking the aisles, a cover caught my eye. I remembered seeing it at B&N and putting it on my list. Although I already had a book or two in my arms, I decided one more could never hurt.
At first glance, I assumed that it would be story of family. I love big family stories -- they so often remind me of my own. As I began reading, a surprise awaited me.
Pause: Before reading further, you should know something about me...I am a Shakespeare junkie. I truly do not know if I can marry someone who doesn't at least APPRECIATE the Bard. My dream job includes teaching a class dedicated to Shakespeare. I once received a leather-bound copy of "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare" from my uncle for Christmas. When I opened it, I immediately started to cry. Not just small tears...the big, crocodile kind. The kind that my sister and cousin still make fun of me for.
Now that you know that vital piece of information, I can let you in on my surprise: From the prologue, the author, Eleanor Brown, begins to quote the Bard himself! I figured it was a happy coincidence because what, after all, hasn't ol' Will written about, and thus can be quoted on? My glee was sky-rocketed when the Prologue let me know that the father of "the weird sisters" was a Shakespeare professor at a small, private college and I could see a recurring theme coming my way.
In this novel, Ms. Brown took three of Shakespeare's characters and made them sisters. She brought with them not only their name, but some of their famous, fatal flaws and incorportated them into a real-life, modern-day drama.
"First came Rosalind, a fair choice; probably our mother's intervention spared her from something weightier. But after that, it was all our father's doing, we are sure. Because then came the second daughter, and what can you name a second daughter but Bianca? And then the third, and if it had been anything other than Cordelia, the heavens might have shaken. Bean and Rose were grateful, truely that the Lear comparisons could not have been made until the troika was complete, or they might have been dubbed to match the play's older sisters, and they knew there was no way to survive being named Goneril and Regan. Not in this day and age" (58).
Each sister carries the plight of her namesake; Rose wishing for true love. Bean, although always lusted after, never loved; although adored, never cherished, and consequently is trying to find her place in the world not even thinking of others. Cordelia, little Cordy, always the favorite, but now finds herself on the outside of the familial circle and tries to find where "home" truly lies.
Don't worry, you don't have to be a fellow Shakespeare junkie to enjoy this book. Some of the more subtle references may be lost on you, but the overall story is a compelling drama of three sisters, tied together by the eternal need to have one another but the human nature to be on their own, who are trying to figure out life after multiple failures and life-altering decisions and consequences.
You see, they love each other. They just don't happen to like each other very much. But it's always amazed me how love can conquer all.
While I was working there, I had an ongoing list of books that I wanted to read. I would keep a pack of Post-its in my badge so I could scribble down the title and author whenever a new, intriguing title came into my life.
Since I moved back to my hometown, the nearest B&N is about a half-hour drive away. It is a great thing for my wallet because it forces me to browse my local library (which just happens to be two blocks away).
I ran into the library the other day to pick up something to read over the weekend. As I was walking the aisles, a cover caught my eye. I remembered seeing it at B&N and putting it on my list. Although I already had a book or two in my arms, I decided one more could never hurt.
At first glance, I assumed that it would be story of family. I love big family stories -- they so often remind me of my own. As I began reading, a surprise awaited me.
Pause: Before reading further, you should know something about me...I am a Shakespeare junkie. I truly do not know if I can marry someone who doesn't at least APPRECIATE the Bard. My dream job includes teaching a class dedicated to Shakespeare. I once received a leather-bound copy of "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare" from my uncle for Christmas. When I opened it, I immediately started to cry. Not just small tears...the big, crocodile kind. The kind that my sister and cousin still make fun of me for.
Now that you know that vital piece of information, I can let you in on my surprise: From the prologue, the author, Eleanor Brown, begins to quote the Bard himself! I figured it was a happy coincidence because what, after all, hasn't ol' Will written about, and thus can be quoted on? My glee was sky-rocketed when the Prologue let me know that the father of "the weird sisters" was a Shakespeare professor at a small, private college and I could see a recurring theme coming my way.
In this novel, Ms. Brown took three of Shakespeare's characters and made them sisters. She brought with them not only their name, but some of their famous, fatal flaws and incorportated them into a real-life, modern-day drama.
"First came Rosalind, a fair choice; probably our mother's intervention spared her from something weightier. But after that, it was all our father's doing, we are sure. Because then came the second daughter, and what can you name a second daughter but Bianca? And then the third, and if it had been anything other than Cordelia, the heavens might have shaken. Bean and Rose were grateful, truely that the Lear comparisons could not have been made until the troika was complete, or they might have been dubbed to match the play's older sisters, and they knew there was no way to survive being named Goneril and Regan. Not in this day and age" (58).
Each sister carries the plight of her namesake; Rose wishing for true love. Bean, although always lusted after, never loved; although adored, never cherished, and consequently is trying to find her place in the world not even thinking of others. Cordelia, little Cordy, always the favorite, but now finds herself on the outside of the familial circle and tries to find where "home" truly lies.
Don't worry, you don't have to be a fellow Shakespeare junkie to enjoy this book. Some of the more subtle references may be lost on you, but the overall story is a compelling drama of three sisters, tied together by the eternal need to have one another but the human nature to be on their own, who are trying to figure out life after multiple failures and life-altering decisions and consequences.
You see, they love each other. They just don't happen to like each other very much. But it's always amazed me how love can conquer all.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Freedom of Speech and Respect.
Those of you who do not live under a rock know that today is "Support Chick-fil-A Day." This day came about because a percentage of the public was outraged to hear that Chick-fil-A's president is against gay marriage. During this time of outrage, words like "homophobic," "closed-minded," "ignorant," and "judgemental" have been thrown out in regards to Chick-fil-A's character and the beliefs of its board of executives.
I am not here to refute that you believe that Chick-fil-A is those things. That is your opinion. We live in America and we get the freedom to have that opinion. You also have the freedom to form an opinion about me after you read the following sentence.
I support Chick-fil-A.
Those of you that know me probably think that I support them in the venue of their religious beliefs; you are correct. I support their choice not to be open on Sundays and I whole-heartedly support the fact that as a company, they cling to the Word of God and claim it as truth. I support their family-friendly environment and the contemporary Christian songs that they play in their restaurant. I think that we can also all agree that I support their Breakfast Burrito with Chicken, hold the peppers and onions...oh boy, do I ever.
This side of the argument is not what prompted me to write a blog today. I am writing this because I completely support the First Amendment and American's right to freedom of speech.
No where in the Constitution of this great nation does it every say that we, as a unit, have to get along and agree with everything someone else says--if that were true, there would be a lot of thirteen-year-old girls unable to protest their mothers...and then the world would explode. However, as human beings, we must enforce the code of respect for one another.
I was on Facebook today and a friend of mine mentioned that she was going to be financially supporting Chick-fil-A today with a purchase of a chicken sandwich and waffle fries for dinner. A few people commented in support of her statement...and then there was one: "I think that everyone has the right to their opinion, but I KNOW that we are not supposed to be JUDGEMENTAL. What's the difference?? Just asking."
That is a completely relevant question. Where is the line between opinion and judgement? Unfortunately, there is no black and white answer to this; just as their is no black and white answer to what modesty is or what "being a lady" is. To me, the border between judgement and opinion is what your intentions are when you are voicing these opinions. If you are simply stating something, that's an opinion. If your goal is to put someone down, hurt their feelings, or to make yourself feel superior, that is when a person has crossed over the line to judgemental. I also think that the avenue with which you choose to express your opinion and the tone of voice/body language with which you express it has a lot to do with which side of the line you are on.
Our generation is at a disadvantage with our complete submersion into social media. We can't read tones of voices and body language when we only see a Facebook status or a re-posted e-Card from someone and we, as a generalized society, are very quick to be on the defensive side of things, instead of the reflective side.
During this current event of ours, I have heard many voices wanting to take away Chick-fil-A's right to freedom of speech; after all, they have people working for them that may not agree with these beliefs and they serve people who may not believe--consequently, it would seem that CFA is pushing their beliefs onto someone, which although it is preached to be a bad thing in our society, many of those preachers do it anyhow.
With the idea of taking away CFA's freedom of speech, under the stated-above precedent, let me pose this question: Once we take it away from one person, when do we stop taking it away? When Dave Cathy retires and is no longer the President of CFA, can he then speak his beliefs as a mere individual? In the eyes of "all things fair", if we take away the Freedom of Speech from CFA, shouldn't we take it away from every major corporation in America?
Those people who may be offended by CFA's beliefs but whom work for CFA...they have the right and the ability to leave Chick-Fil-A and not be under their umbrella anymore. The customers who don't like the music in CFA, may I suggest that you bring your iPod to lunch with you next time...or simply stop eating there at all?
If we take away the freedom of speech from America, we also take away the right to protest when something doesn't go our way.
Your boss wants you to work Saturdays, but you enjoy sleeping in? Tough...you can't say anything about it.
You want to go to NCSU, but the government has decided to make a lottery for college admissions and now you have to go to UNC--there's nothing you can do about it.
I express my belief in Chick-fil-A's beliefs and now you want to yell at me? Sorry, you can't--you gave up your own voice when you took away mine.
You really want to try Pioneer Woman's new barbeque chicken recipe? Oops! Can't...the government has issued a statement saying that the killing of animals for digestion is unlawful and now we all must be vegetarians who grow all of our own food in backyard gardens! Don't like dirt and allergic to grass? Sorry, if you want to eat, that's how you have to survive.
Now I know some of those sounded ridiculous and are quite exaggerated, but I'm asking you to look at the full picture (and if you don't believe me that these things could actually happen, go ask the USSR or China).
I am begging you to be respectful of one another. Watch what you say and how you say it. Those are people that you are talking about. When the Amendment One vote came about in North Carolina a few months ago, one of my favorite students went on a tyraid to her tablemate about how she "prays that those Bible-beaters, close-minded, ignorant, hateful, son-of-a-bitches don't get their way." The two of them went on and on about this at their table for at least ten minutes while they were working on their warm-up. I don't think that they were even aware that anyone could hear them. What I know is that they have no idea that after they left, I locked the door behind my children and sobbed at my desk for ten minutes because those names that they were using hurt me (and these were two of my favorite students--the most out-spoken one even wrote me a song about how much she loves me and performed it on the last day of school!). I often wonder if I had pulled them outside and communicated with them exactly what they were saying and how it punched me in the gut, how they would react.
These are people we are talking about. Whatever side of the argument you are on, you cannot deny that. When the news broke that CFA's Vice President of Communications had passed away during this hoopla, I saw a post on Facebook about how glad someone was that this "hateful cretin" was "off the face of the earth and can no longer spread propoganda." THIS IS A MAN WITH A FAMILY. This man worked forty hours a week (maybe more) to provide for his family, and because someone disagrees with one statement he made, one piece of his life, which truthfully he might not even believe in, he could just be doing his JOB, and you sentence him to an early death and the inability to watch his grandchildren grow up or his youngest graduate from college? Just think about it.
I am always very hestitant to speak my opinions on anything (confession: before I started typing this, my hands were shaking). My family seems to be split fifty-fifty on major decisions and very few things are worth the divide that hurt feelings and stepped-on toes can bring. In the end, I knew that I had to say something. I think one of the reasons that the "anti-Chick-fil-A" group is so vocal is because they are trying to find validation. Something that they believe in is being hurt or spoken against and they simply don't know how to handle it. People always try to find validation in sin--and yes, I do believe that homosexuality is a sin. However, I have many homosexual friends--some of whom I have actually lived with, that's how good of friends we are--and I would NEVER treat them as less than human because of this sin. Their sin is no greater or smaller than my own. I know I just made a lot of people angry (if you've gotten this far in my soapbox) by referring to homosexuality as sin, but I believe that every single word in the Bible is Truth and that it came straight from my Heavenly Father Himself. That being said, I also believe that the Lord is good and just and merciful and for some reason, because of a love that I will never fully comprehend--and I consider myself somewhat of an expert on love--my Jesus Christ died on the Cross to save everyone from their sins. Not "everyone minus the homosexuals." I hope my friends who struggle with homosexuality make it to Heaven--it will certainly be a party and there's no other way that I would want it.
The next time that you voice your opinion to someone through any venue, please pause for a moment, check yourself so you don't wreck yourself, and realize that the people of whom you speak are humans with feelings; a heart, hands, fingers, and toes, just like you. If you prick them they will bleed, if you were to poison them, they would die; they are warmed by the summer and chilled by the winter, the same as you.
Chick-fil-A: I support your decision to be honest about what you believe in. I applaud you for your strength and courage to stand up and voice an opinion that has proved to be unsupported by the people with the loudest voices. Thank you for being honest and for not conforming. For a generation that preaches individuality and non-conformity, some of your (former) patrons certainly don't seem to want that from you.
America: Learn respect. Love your neighbor and listen to them. You might just learn something greater than you could have every imagined.
I am not here to refute that you believe that Chick-fil-A is those things. That is your opinion. We live in America and we get the freedom to have that opinion. You also have the freedom to form an opinion about me after you read the following sentence.
I support Chick-fil-A.
Those of you that know me probably think that I support them in the venue of their religious beliefs; you are correct. I support their choice not to be open on Sundays and I whole-heartedly support the fact that as a company, they cling to the Word of God and claim it as truth. I support their family-friendly environment and the contemporary Christian songs that they play in their restaurant. I think that we can also all agree that I support their Breakfast Burrito with Chicken, hold the peppers and onions...oh boy, do I ever.
This side of the argument is not what prompted me to write a blog today. I am writing this because I completely support the First Amendment and American's right to freedom of speech.
No where in the Constitution of this great nation does it every say that we, as a unit, have to get along and agree with everything someone else says--if that were true, there would be a lot of thirteen-year-old girls unable to protest their mothers...and then the world would explode. However, as human beings, we must enforce the code of respect for one another.
I was on Facebook today and a friend of mine mentioned that she was going to be financially supporting Chick-fil-A today with a purchase of a chicken sandwich and waffle fries for dinner. A few people commented in support of her statement...and then there was one: "I think that everyone has the right to their opinion, but I KNOW that we are not supposed to be JUDGEMENTAL. What's the difference?? Just asking."
That is a completely relevant question. Where is the line between opinion and judgement? Unfortunately, there is no black and white answer to this; just as their is no black and white answer to what modesty is or what "being a lady" is. To me, the border between judgement and opinion is what your intentions are when you are voicing these opinions. If you are simply stating something, that's an opinion. If your goal is to put someone down, hurt their feelings, or to make yourself feel superior, that is when a person has crossed over the line to judgemental. I also think that the avenue with which you choose to express your opinion and the tone of voice/body language with which you express it has a lot to do with which side of the line you are on.
Our generation is at a disadvantage with our complete submersion into social media. We can't read tones of voices and body language when we only see a Facebook status or a re-posted e-Card from someone and we, as a generalized society, are very quick to be on the defensive side of things, instead of the reflective side.
During this current event of ours, I have heard many voices wanting to take away Chick-fil-A's right to freedom of speech; after all, they have people working for them that may not agree with these beliefs and they serve people who may not believe--consequently, it would seem that CFA is pushing their beliefs onto someone, which although it is preached to be a bad thing in our society, many of those preachers do it anyhow.
With the idea of taking away CFA's freedom of speech, under the stated-above precedent, let me pose this question: Once we take it away from one person, when do we stop taking it away? When Dave Cathy retires and is no longer the President of CFA, can he then speak his beliefs as a mere individual? In the eyes of "all things fair", if we take away the Freedom of Speech from CFA, shouldn't we take it away from every major corporation in America?
Those people who may be offended by CFA's beliefs but whom work for CFA...they have the right and the ability to leave Chick-Fil-A and not be under their umbrella anymore. The customers who don't like the music in CFA, may I suggest that you bring your iPod to lunch with you next time...or simply stop eating there at all?
If we take away the freedom of speech from America, we also take away the right to protest when something doesn't go our way.
Your boss wants you to work Saturdays, but you enjoy sleeping in? Tough...you can't say anything about it.
You want to go to NCSU, but the government has decided to make a lottery for college admissions and now you have to go to UNC--there's nothing you can do about it.
I express my belief in Chick-fil-A's beliefs and now you want to yell at me? Sorry, you can't--you gave up your own voice when you took away mine.
You really want to try Pioneer Woman's new barbeque chicken recipe? Oops! Can't...the government has issued a statement saying that the killing of animals for digestion is unlawful and now we all must be vegetarians who grow all of our own food in backyard gardens! Don't like dirt and allergic to grass? Sorry, if you want to eat, that's how you have to survive.
Now I know some of those sounded ridiculous and are quite exaggerated, but I'm asking you to look at the full picture (and if you don't believe me that these things could actually happen, go ask the USSR or China).
I am begging you to be respectful of one another. Watch what you say and how you say it. Those are people that you are talking about. When the Amendment One vote came about in North Carolina a few months ago, one of my favorite students went on a tyraid to her tablemate about how she "prays that those Bible-beaters, close-minded, ignorant, hateful, son-of-a-bitches don't get their way." The two of them went on and on about this at their table for at least ten minutes while they were working on their warm-up. I don't think that they were even aware that anyone could hear them. What I know is that they have no idea that after they left, I locked the door behind my children and sobbed at my desk for ten minutes because those names that they were using hurt me (and these were two of my favorite students--the most out-spoken one even wrote me a song about how much she loves me and performed it on the last day of school!). I often wonder if I had pulled them outside and communicated with them exactly what they were saying and how it punched me in the gut, how they would react.
These are people we are talking about. Whatever side of the argument you are on, you cannot deny that. When the news broke that CFA's Vice President of Communications had passed away during this hoopla, I saw a post on Facebook about how glad someone was that this "hateful cretin" was "off the face of the earth and can no longer spread propoganda." THIS IS A MAN WITH A FAMILY. This man worked forty hours a week (maybe more) to provide for his family, and because someone disagrees with one statement he made, one piece of his life, which truthfully he might not even believe in, he could just be doing his JOB, and you sentence him to an early death and the inability to watch his grandchildren grow up or his youngest graduate from college? Just think about it.
I am always very hestitant to speak my opinions on anything (confession: before I started typing this, my hands were shaking). My family seems to be split fifty-fifty on major decisions and very few things are worth the divide that hurt feelings and stepped-on toes can bring. In the end, I knew that I had to say something. I think one of the reasons that the "anti-Chick-fil-A" group is so vocal is because they are trying to find validation. Something that they believe in is being hurt or spoken against and they simply don't know how to handle it. People always try to find validation in sin--and yes, I do believe that homosexuality is a sin. However, I have many homosexual friends--some of whom I have actually lived with, that's how good of friends we are--and I would NEVER treat them as less than human because of this sin. Their sin is no greater or smaller than my own. I know I just made a lot of people angry (if you've gotten this far in my soapbox) by referring to homosexuality as sin, but I believe that every single word in the Bible is Truth and that it came straight from my Heavenly Father Himself. That being said, I also believe that the Lord is good and just and merciful and for some reason, because of a love that I will never fully comprehend--and I consider myself somewhat of an expert on love--my Jesus Christ died on the Cross to save everyone from their sins. Not "everyone minus the homosexuals." I hope my friends who struggle with homosexuality make it to Heaven--it will certainly be a party and there's no other way that I would want it.
The next time that you voice your opinion to someone through any venue, please pause for a moment, check yourself so you don't wreck yourself, and realize that the people of whom you speak are humans with feelings; a heart, hands, fingers, and toes, just like you. If you prick them they will bleed, if you were to poison them, they would die; they are warmed by the summer and chilled by the winter, the same as you.
Chick-fil-A: I support your decision to be honest about what you believe in. I applaud you for your strength and courage to stand up and voice an opinion that has proved to be unsupported by the people with the loudest voices. Thank you for being honest and for not conforming. For a generation that preaches individuality and non-conformity, some of your (former) patrons certainly don't seem to want that from you.
America: Learn respect. Love your neighbor and listen to them. You might just learn something greater than you could have every imagined.
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