Value

  About a month after I moved to Ventura I spent a weekend at my parents house. They brought me home and even visited church with me. Its been over a year and something about it still irritates and frustrates me. I always just chalked it up to my parents not actually seeing who I am, but this morning I realized it was something deeper.
  At some point during the drive up or maybe even earlier in the weekend my dad asked me if I "told them I could sing yet". He meant had I gone the worship leader or Pastor and told them I wanted to be on the worship team. When I told him No, he seemed puzzled, but the conversation didn't go much further. Like I said, I've been irritated at this exchange for over a year, its just another example of how well my parents pay attention to their children. If your child hasn't been in church regularly or on a worship team regularly for almost 2 years what makes you think they're going to jump on the one at their new church within a month? Anyway, as I was gathering my lunch this morning when it hit me (not my lunch). What really got me about the exchange, the real reason why I have been upset about it wasn't actually them not "getting it" it was that this is the only value they see in me.
   I've written a lot about both my parents and my relationship with each. I've written mostly (if not all) negatives about them. My parents didn't instill any type of value of myself in me, just the opposite. Being around my parents, even now, is filled with put-downs and pot-shots. I can never get a "good job", its always a "well, this was wrong". Even when other people say something positive my parents have a way of turning it into a negative and throwing it back....except when I sing. I've written a couple of times about how my mother likes the admiration she gets from people when I sing. But I'm now starting to realize that my parents are two sides of the same coin. That my father, not just my mother likes when people tell him they like my singing. To them, that's my value.
  To them my singing voice is all I've got going for me. Overweight, not particularly attractive, too loud, too opinionated, not where they think I should be in my life they see me as a failure, a burden but I can sing and people like that and tell them they are great because of the talent God gave me and they enjoy hearing it. They want that! So there is my value. My father probably thought he'd walk into my new church and have people say "oh, you're Melanie's father, she so great she has such a great voice and he'd smile and have his dose of prestige from me" (that's exactly what happened at Marina). That did not happen at my new church...well, actually it did. He met Randy and Jacquie and they told them just that, except without the singing part. I'm awesome, they are excited to have me up here and they love me...but those things were dismissed because that's not where he sees my value.
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I have completely missed the mark on this, but this is what I see.
  Every time I say I'm going to visit Marina (and its always because of them never because I want to) the first question is "are you singing?", when I was still at Marina the questions were always "why aren't you singing?" and upon going to my new church the first question wasn't whats it like, what do they teach, how do they believe, have you met the Pastor...it was "have you told them you can sing"
  Now, you tell me....am I wrong?

  Until Next Time,

  ~m

HeartBroken

   The other day I watched as two kids on television speak about their father, saying what he means to them and how much he takes care of them, listens and supports them. It made me sad because if someone ever asked me to describe why I love my father or what type of a father he is I couldn't say anything of those things, not truthfully. In fact, most of the things I would say would be the opposite.
Not supportive, not loving, not caring...but mean, hurtful, resentful and angry.
  
   When you grow up in a home where people treat the furniture better than they treat you it's hard to see other people who had the type of relationship with their parents that you always longed for but never got. I don't know why my father is the way he is. I never will (and I'm not suppose to). All I know is how he made/makes me feel and how, even after being out of his house for more than a year, I wake up scared that he's going to come storming into my room yelling and screaming.

   I'm not saying this for anyone to feel bad for me...I'm saying it because it's something I need to get out of my system. It's something I need to rid myself of so that I can move on to bigger and better. Although I am attempting to leave this here I know that I will always carry it around with me I will always take it into relationships. I will always be a little afraid that I'm not good enough because that's what I've always been taught...by my father.


   Until Next Time
   ~m

Sometimes your Friends are Right

   Years ago I was lamenting to a friend about my relationship with my mom and how it was really hard to deal with her when we'd go places like the mall. My friend (I really wish I could remember who it was) said things would be different when I moved out. I didn't believe her, because I couldn't see past the circumstance and situation I was in at that moment and I didn't have any genuine faith that I'd someday be able to put any distance between myself and my mother. Even in the last 6 months I've moved yes, but I work with her everyday and everyday I am stuck in a place that I feel is holding me in. It's difficult, to say the least, to think about having some sort of life where I am fully removed from my parents. I think most people would tell me to enjoy this stage where I'm out of the house, but still completely connected everyday. I am trying to, but it's been hard.
   Fast forward to last weekend. My mom and my Grandma came up to visit me! It's a small miracle because I didn't really expect either one of them to show up but they both did. We proceeded to have a wonderful day together. Shopping and lunch filled with laughter and love. It was really nice and I realized in the middle of it that this was some very different. It was the exact thing my friend was telling me about I could enjoy myself because I wasn't burdened by always being surrounded. It gave me something I didn't expect...an aspect of life I haven't fully gathered since I moved...which is peace.

    It seems there's always something I'm worrying about...I know I need to be at peace, but I'm always wondering and stressing about something or other. Last weekend helped me to see that I need to be at peace with the decisions I make (good or bad) and what life is now. An unbelievable joy! Sometimes overwhelming, sometimes underwhelming...but either way it's a joy and a blessing.

   It was good, it was fun and it was peaceful. I look forward to more weekends like it.

   Until Next Time.
   ~m

Sad...

 It's been 9 days since George Zimmerman was found not guilty and the country is still trying to figure out why. He killed an unarmed teenage boy who was walking home from the store. Trayvon Martin was stocked by a man who was acting as neighborhood watch and assumed, because of his attire and skin color that he was possibly behind the recent rash of break ins in that gated community. It was called self-defense. I will say that I do believe that Trayvon was beating him up, but I know that he was told not to follow Trayvon. He was bigger than Trayvon so he really didn't need to shoot him when he could have used his body weight. Instead, he pull out his gun and shot him.

 I'm not writing this to debate the merits of the case or to say the jury was wrong. The purpose of my writing this is to try to convey my fear I have for young black men like my brother. He's a youth leader at his church, and will one day be a Pastor. He has a job that he goes to and works hard at everyday. He read comics, loves movies and hanging out with his friends (most of which he's know since Kinder or First grade). He's never done drugs, doesn't party and does not drink. He's a good man...but he's black. In a city, state, country, world where brown skin is still looked down upon as inferior and negative, it's hard to know that my brother could be put into this same situation as Trayvon because some guy with a gun has decided he's had enough (or the police thinks he "LOOKS" like a suspect).

 I naively thought that when the US elected our first Black President that we had evolved as a country. That things like this wouldn't be blasted across our headlines, but I was wrong. I put too much faith and hope the change I saw...and now, I sit here and pray for my brother's safety. When I see a young black man walking down the street I pray for his safety. I pray that he won't become a victim of a society that will never fully realize it's full potential because it's still clinging to the attitudes of the past.

  While people are protesting and outraged by the verdict, I'm been left sadden with a heavy heart. I have only prayers to offer and questions to raise. But I'm also left with an overwhelming sense of fear.

  Until Next Time.

  ~m

Huh

You know the old saying

 "In a crisis you end up taking care of your friends, when they should be taking care of you" 

It's true.
People can't really seem to deal when someone else is in pain.
Instead they start trying to figure out what they could have possibly done to make the other person feel that way or make the other person mad.
That's their guilt.
For whatever reason they feel guilty about something and so
they think the person going through the emotional breakdown is
talking about them

Or it could be selfishness.
that they are so completely self-absorbed
that they don't think the other person
would talk about anyone but them
and how dare they take try to draw focus

Either way, it's not helpful
not to either person involved
if I'm going through it I'm going through it
I usually don't confide because people can never actually help me
I generally don't believe what they're saying to console me
and it leaves me open to be broken later
because whenever or whoever I open myself up to
usually ends up doing the exact same thing to me
in the future.

Piece of the Puzzle

Who was I kidding?
Only myself...
I thought I was important enough.
I thought I was special enough,
but I was wrong...so thoroughly wrong.

It's okay
I have to start over
I have to find what I need
who I need
what's important to me
because I put my trust and hope in the wrong people

I will fall
I will step off the path
I will continue to be disappointed
I expect it
I know it's coming, so why do I even act like it's not possible?

Because
I've always hoped that it would be different.
I'm okay
I will be okay
I will fade into life
and not look back
you'll remember me one day
and wonder what happened

and I will be living a new life
free from the disappointment
free from the hurt
and when you hear my voice in your head
you'll know
you were a piece of the puzzle
that drove me away

Clueless

  Sometimes I just want to shake you and tell you to open your eyes to something other than yourself.

  No, he doesn't confide in you, probably for the same reasons I don't.
  Because you'll trivialization our feels, our intentions and our goals.
  You'll question why we want something, but not to help us think it through...to help you keeps us under your control.

  Ultimately you'll make it all about yourself and we'll be stuck just sitting there wondering why we even bought it up.

   You say you have no idea what's going on with him.
   How is it that I do?
   Maybe it's because I watch and listen and observe him. I pay attention!
   Maybe I don't badger him with questions. Maybe I sit back and when the time is right I ask him something about it.
 
   Maybe I see the calling and I'm allowing him to figure it out for himself...because that's what I would want.

   Why you haven't seen it?
   Why you haven't questioned it is baffling to me.
   It's probably because you're too busy running around trying to look busy. Or ignoring anything that doesn't have to do with what you're interested in.

   You stand here and "Complain" in your passive aggressive way thinking I'm going to be as surprised as you when you "drop" the information or you think I'll give you some sympathy.

   Your son won't give you any information about his life...but what you have failed to understand is that me, your daughter, also won't give you any information...

   but you've never really wondered why...have you?

Realizations

 
   It just dawned on me...I'm still holding on to things. It really can't be helped though. I'm trying my best to change my perspective but I still see the world through this foggy prism.
   
   I think my mother (I think both my parents) expected me to be clingy to all, text and be needy after I moved out. I haven't done that, there's been too much built up over the years, too much time spent deciding how I would handle our relationships once I was on my own. I decided that I would let the cards fall where they may, but I wasn't going to do any extras or go out of my way to repair something I didn't break.
  
    I've realized that I need to let go of the bitterness I have. I still work with my mother, I still have to see and deal with her regularly. Most of the time she's coming to chat because I'm not around to ignore her at home, but its an everyday thing. At first I was irritated, I wanted my space, but now its, a whatever situation. I can understand that she wants the communication, but I'm not so sure I want as much. I see that she misses me and apparently so does my father. But I'm not there, I'm not at the stage where I feel I need to call and speak to them everyday. I don't want to know about the madness that has kept rolling through that house. I'm just trying to get a handle on life and my direction. There are so many things I am still adjusting to, I don't have time to miss anything and I don't want to hear about the negatives, that's why I left.
  
    But all that being said, I have to change my mindset, I have to be a little more open. I need to except that they are who they are and that they will never really understand how I feel. I also need to let go so that I can move on to the bigger and better things in store for me. I need to see where a positive relationship with them can take me.
    Unfortunately, I have a feeling I'm going to end up being back where I started just 70 miles to the North.

Dread and fear...

There have been many things running through my head lately. The possibility (or certainty) of my heart's desires coming into being has left me feeling a variety of emotions that run randomly through every part of me...joy, relief, anxiety, nervousness, disbelief, uncertainty. But mostly impatience...because I want it to happen already...I want to all to be over, I want to begin living the life I've always dreamed of.

I haven't deluded myself to the fact that its going to be difficult. I'll have my moments of frustration and anxiety and the total overwhelming feeling of being terrified, but I know with all my being this is what/where I'm supposed to be. I know that God is pulling the strings making things happen...finally giving me what I want.

In truth, my nervousness doesn't even lay in the decision or actions. It lays in having to deal with the reactions of my parents. And that really isn't nervousness, its dread. I dread having to deal with them. Because they won't understand, they won't care what I want...they never really have. They only care about how this will effect them, because my life has, until this point, been a series of hits and bruises that have been for no one else's good but their own.
I'm ready to begin my life the way I want it, to eat a meal with out being asked 10 times in the first five minutes how it tastes. Or being able to leave and not have to explain where I'm going and why...or hearing my father voice and being terrified he's going to explode and reduce me to tears because my brother didn't put the dishes didn't get put away or someone left a sock in the living room. But those are my hang ups, those are only things I see and experience...things that I long to get away from because they are slowly eating away at my soul. I fear that instead of being proud they will shoot down my decisions , instead of being supportive they will be negative and spiteful. I fear these things because they are what I know.

UPDATE:

I've finally told my parents about my decision and did not receive the reaction I thought I would. Instead of hostility, anger and emotional torture I got indifference, which in itself is another form of emotional torture. Basically the reaction was "whatever" and I don't feel like they support me...but that's fine, I have support. As long as they don't ruin this for me...there's really nothing else I'll ask for.

Until Next Time

I'm an adult damn it!

  I don't know if this has happened to anyone else, but if it has...you know it can be very frustrating.
  I started going to church faithfully about 14 years ago. I'm not talking occasion youth activities or helping out at kids camp (which is something I'd previously done). I'm talking about actively attending every Sunday, being on the worship team, helping out at events. Being a productive member of the congregation. My family wasn't involved because they didn't do church. They'd come to the occasional event if I sang, but other than that their Sundays were spent in bed watching TV.
  Although, I was the youngest adult person the in congregation (for a long time it went from me DIRECTLY TO KIDS, no teens in sight), I was thought of as my own person. I was looked at as Melanie and when my family came they were Melanie's family. Well, then my parent's started to attend the church and I quickly became Randal and Shirley's daughter Melanie. The individuality that I had has all but disappeared. Truthfully, some of that falls on me... I took a job where I worked on Sundays and the Sundays I didn't work, I was too tried to attend service. Then after I left that job, my heart really wasn't into going to church. And in all honesty, as much as I've tried since...my heart is not into this church any longer. In these few years of inconsistent attendance the church has grown immensely. Most people only know my parents, so I can see how the tables have turned and my ever present parents now take the lead position in the family...that's fine. What's not fine is the blanket disregard for me as a complete individual. Now, I'm only Randal and Shirley's daughter. If someone needs to give me a message they go through my parents instead of say...call, email, text, or facebook me. If I tell someone something that I don't intend everyone on the planet to know at some point one of the my parents casually strolls in to reveal what they know...like it's no big deal. I have been reduced to that of a 5 year old who needs their parents permission to participate in life. It's very frustrating, very belittling and very very unnecessary.
  Regardless of whether or not this "treating me like a child" phase had started or not, it was very much becoming a burden to go to church with my parents where I had established my own identity anyway. We are all slightly different from what our families know...when we are in the world away from our families we are different, we just are. Immediately my parent's wiped that identity away and replaced it with what they know me as. As much as I tried to fight it, as much as I tried to shine in my own way...they laid on me what they always do. Tried to change me like they always do, instead of just allowing me to be.
  Now, this church is very much theirs and not so much mine. In truth, I've moved on from it. My heart no longer longs to be there or with those people. As much as I love them and that place, because of the time spent there and how much I grew while there...there's a burden there that I neither want or need. So it's time for me to move on...it's funny because I think that the people who want me there are only wanting that for selfish reasons. I think that even on the day I start to attend the church (the true place my heart longs to be) they will still wonder why I left...but they won't ever really understand my need to stand on my own and to be in a place for myself...not just because it's the place I've always been. It feels like I've grown and the church has as well, but we've grown in two different directions and no longer fit together.
   But I do have to say that it would be nice to be treated like I'm an adult and not just someones child. Because when I'm looked at that way I'm reduced to something that's only one tiny part of me.

    Until Next Time!

      ~m

It's a Rant...that's long over due

  My mom told me that I couldn't wear makeup until I was 15, which really wasn't a big deal to me. I went to a private jr. high school wear make up wasn't permitted and once I got into high school applying it took time that I could use to sleep (also I don't like mirrors or my face that much). So waiting until I was 15 wasn't a big deal to me. Once I turned 15...the very few times I wore makeup (usually friends putting mascara on me) she would have something negative to say about it.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

"Who told you you could do that?"

"It looks terrible! Go wash your face!"

  So, needless to say that just prolonged my non-interest in the subject. But once I started to actually get interested I asked her to help me...I asked her if she would teach me how to do my own makeup. To which I got a firm...

"I don't know how to do make up, you have to figure it out on your own" (she said this while applying makeup to her own face).

  I was there on my own trying to figure it out...luckily I went to my Mexican mom who helped. She was able to show me a different technique (I have large eye lids and a very small crease, so all the "standard" makeup applying techniques don't work for me). I was very happy and very lucky to have someone help me when the person I really needed the help from let me down. So...(and here's where the rant officially starts) about a year ago I complained to my mother about applying mascara...I have tiny eyelashes so it's very difficult to actually get mascara on them without getting it everywhere else...her response

"If you learned how to do it right it wouldn't be so hard"

  Really?!? Seriously?!? This from the woman who "couldn't" help me because she didn't know what she was doing is going to sit there and tell me that I'm doing it wrong...she's going to criticize me when she wouldn't lift a finger to teach me how to do it in the first place!

  Seriously!

  As you can see this has been on my mind ever since..and it pisses me off! Now, every time I apply mascara I think of that and every time it pisses me off. I mean, how can you possibly be so ridiculous in your comment...well, because I'm sure she doesn't remember making any of the comments to me when I was a teenager. In fact, if she read this she'd probably ask why I'm lying about it because she didn't say any of that stuff.

   But I'm not lying, why would I?? That makes even less sense than what she said.

   I'm not always sure what goes on in parent's heads (cause I'm not one), but I hope that I never just disregard my child, make them feel like crap, then blame them for something that I never took the time to help them with in the first place....

   to me that's just terrible parenting


   Okay, rant over! Until Next Time

   ~m

Back to my Comfort Zone

   I tried...I have to say that's it's been a good run, I've given it a good few months and now I'm moving on. Before I go on to tell you the story I have to tell you this...I'm working. I've been working since June and although the job isn't permanent I've been extended here through the end of October. I work with my mom at a law firm and I've really enjoyed my time here.
   Because I work with my mom I have tried to step gently across this territory, but apparently I'm doing it wrong (at least, that has recently come to my attention). Since I've worked here I've eaten with her and others in the lunch room...which I HATE, but it's expected that I would want to spend all my free time with her and these other people so I go and sit there politely engaged in conversations that frustrate me and eat my lunch. Well, this morning I was told that I am being rude to her friend because I choose to read while I eat and in doing so I no longer talk or listen to their conversations. I read and eat and that's seen as rude because I am not answering questions when posed because I'm READING. Also, since I don't actually hear the question I'm being asked my reaction which is usually "what? or huh?" is being seen as rude. When in fact, if someone is politely and quietly reading isn't the person asking the question the rude one?
    This friend of my mother "has influence" so she (my mother) expects me to treat this friend with kindness and sit at her feet and wait for her to pat me on the head and ask me another stupid or very personal question (which she has done in the past). I'm at the point where I just can't win, so I'm choosing to get out of the game.

   You see, since I've started this journey into the great American workforce I've eaten lunch alone....I don't like to eat lunch with other people. I don't like to talk...I like to spend that time reading, listening to music, thinking, writing...I like to spend my time doing something productive and enjoying myself. I generally don't like to spend time eating lunch with others because they want to talk about work. On my FREE lunch hour I don't want to talk about work! I don't want to talk at all.
   Also, apparently there are spies all around you are watching me and taking notes about everything I do or say in the lunch room. You'd think that if I sit quietly and read there'd be nothing to "report", but I guess that's wrongs too. When I do talk I come across as a "know it all" and I get involved in conversations I'm not supposed to be in. So read, talking or watching TV I'm wrong no matter what I do. Guess, I should be happy she didn't tell me I eat badly (which I'm sure will come up at some point).

    So I've decided I'm done. I won't be eating lunch in that room with those people any more. I'll find another place to spend my free hour, where I won't offend anyone, where I can read in peace and where I'll expect to not be bother by stupid questions posed while I'm clearly doing something different. I'll spend my free hour not being watched by spies or offending my mother's "friend with influence". I'll spend it doing what I want to do...and I'll be happier about it.

Friendships and Labels

I've been thinking about the state of my relationships...and how I have friends that have become like family and friends that haven't. The essence of most of my friendships have been built up over years and years and have turned into that most intimate of friendships, where the lines blur between my friends and my family. In fact, if you really want to see this in my life you need to look no further than my "Mexican Family" who I've know since 1993 and who've over time, become my second family Mother, Sisters, Brother, Aunts, Uncles, Grandma and Step-dad. There are no longer any lines to blur because they are my family. This has also (I've recently discovered) occurred with my friend Kristi and her family. I see her very much like a sister and less like just a friend everyday. 


Wait, before I continue...let me say that these are my feelings and if others don't feel that way toward me I'm okay with it...it's important that people know how I feel about them...and this is how I feel. I'm not doing this to ask for love in return.


  Okay, she (Kristi) has become like a sister to me...her family, like mine and my love for all of them just grows and grows. But there are some relationships...that even though I love the people I'm in them with, I don't look upon like family. In fact, I've questioned whether or not I could ever actually look at them like that. My answer was a hard no. Not hard as in inflexible, but hard as in it was a hard question to answer honestly. 
  We put labels on ourselves and the people around us...friends, family, best friend, acquaintance, parent, child...we apply these labels and most times don't allow them to be removed or replaced with anything else. I've found that although for some, I find it easy to replace those labels, for others the labels aren't something I want to replace...not one bit, not at all. 
   I've had a few best friends in my life and of the few only one would I consider family. But I've also known her since I was in 5th grade, so if she isn't family then she's a fungus I can't get rid of : ). The others are people who, though I love them, I don't see them as family. There are many reasons for this...but I think the biggest reason is the fact that I'm not able to confide in them the way I can with others. There are things that I wouldn't/won't share because I don't really believe they'll listen, care or want to know. For a best friend, that's a tough thing to say, but it's the reality and even though I know that they'd say that's not true, I see their reactions and body language tell a different story. I've never actually felt that I could really truly tell my best friends everything about me, my feelings, my problems, and show them my true deep self. In fact, I've always felt like there was some underlying competition on going, trivial....but still there and very present...at least to me. Every so often I'm actually surprised at how well they know me...but it's a fleeting feeling when I can't really bring myself to talk about it further.
   It's troubling, in someways, that I've viewed (and very much continue to do so) these relationships this way. It would be so much easier, simpler and nicer to think of these best friend relationships as more than that. But ultimately I keep them in that category to keep myself from the ultimate pain, heartbreak. Would I like to remove or replace this title and claim the best friend as a sister...to share and show myself wholeheartedly knowing that I'm supported and cared for? Yes, but that's easier said than done. It starts with the truth....and it never ends. Fights, love, anger, forgiveness, truth and openness...these are friendship....a family make. And without even one I can't see changing a friendship (best or not) into a family.

I'm really disappointed in the selfishness of some people. You don't want to be held accountable for ruining the things around you, you want everyone to cheer your bad decisions. Well you are going to regret this bed who've made because the bad is only going to get worse and when you need help the bridges you've burnt won't be there to carry you to it.

Colour Barriers pt 1

  This whole Trayvon Martin situation has got me thinking...again, about the friends I have around me and the people I tend to gravitate to. Since race has been in the news so much (I've even seen race attributed to the reason why Tim Tebow gets so much attention) I can't help but take a look at how I feel about race and how it effects my life. Quite honestly, although I don't think about race or allow race to influence my everyday actions there have been times in my life where I know I'm being judged by the color of my skin and the texture of my hair. It's a fact that in this country people are conditioned to believe certain things about certain people. That's fine (here's my opinion on it  here). I know that my parents feel a certain way about how, as black people, my brother and I should act. I also know that I worry everyday about my brother as a young black man walking about this city. But I don't lead my life in the "everything that happens is about my race" mentality. Do I think everything happens for a reason...sure, but I don't believe that reason is the color of my skin.
   The truth about me is that I come from a family that's been truly integrated in all ways. I have aunts who've been White and Mexican and I'm pretty sure my brother is going to marry an Asian girl. My parents grew up in the same neighborhood I did and have always been surrounded by a mix of peoples...and so I have. I don't think about race because the only times I've ever felt uncomfortable because I'm black have occurred in places that weren't my typical areas (Yucaipa, Idaho and once in Ventura) other than that, in my little bubble of East LA, I am comfortable. My brain doesn't immediately jump to conclusions because I wasn't raised to think that other races were out to get me. But I feel like I'm in the minority. I feel like I've missed alot because I live in this state of perpetual racial ignorance, could this be true, could I be completely over thinking this or could I be living in a my own world where none of this really matters?

The Neighbor

  We have an eccentric neighbor! He's painted his house multiple colors and has decorated his yard with an assortment of plants a religious statues (from the Virgin Guadalupe to the Buddha). He annoys my parents for various reasons but I'm going to talk about one...and how his enthusiasm for his property has become an irritant for me.
   First, let me state that my mom comes up with "ideas" and "plans" for things she wants to do around the house and property. She explains them to anyone who'll listen...but never follows through with them because she's always expecting my father to put her plan in motion and he could care less. She came up with a plan a couple of years ago when the house next door went on sale. Our property line is basically the side of that house (quite literally, if the owner sticks his hand out of the window he's on our property). Because we have no fence between the properties my mother wanted to buy several big planters to try and separate their carport from our yard...give us some privacy. Well, not only did that not happen, but the new neighbor decided to start planting brushes, trees and flowers along his house and therefore on our property. When she noticed this my mother stomped around the house complaining, but never actually went to the neighbor and asked him to move his plants. Instead she said "well, he's just doing us a favor". That, my friends, is one of the stupidest and most passive aggressive things I've ever heard. But the more he plants the more she complains. Never have either of my parents gone to him and spoke about this. 
    Once she started to complain to me, my proactive brain started working. I asked if we have a layout of our property and where all the lines where...nope, I asked if he could be confused as to where the lines are and therefore does not realize what he's doing and if that's the case shouldn't he be informed...apparently that's too much effort. Finally, frustrated I said since my parents and too afraid to speak that I would go over and talk to him about it...nope, can't have me doing that...that's too much like right.
     I'm writing about this, because I was on the back porch and notice a new tree planted on our property and I know that as soon as my mother sees it this whole complaint session will start again. I really don't need or want to hear about it. I'm too irritated with her latest plan (which is switching out our old couch for three chairs she got from work). The old couch is a sofa bed and has to be taken apart before it can be moved...that's my dad's job and you know what that means! So in the meantime we have 3 extra chairs (four actually there's a chair that arrived from somewhere around Christmas and has never been returned to it's rightful place) sitting in an already over packed living...
    My parents complaint about the house...."WE HAVE TOO MUCH CRAP" we'll people...that's because every time we turn around one of them is bringing new stuff into it.


Is this how Hoarders start?

The Neighbor

  We have an eccentric neighbor! He's painted his house multiple colors and has decorated his yard with an assortment of plants a religious statues (from the Virgin Guadalupe to the Buddha). He annoys my parents for various reasons, but I'm going to talk about one...and how his enthusiasm for his property has become an irritant for me.
   First, let me state that my mom comes up with "ideas" and "plans" for things she wants to do around the house and property. She explains them to anyone who'll listen...but never follows through with them because she's always expecting my father to put her plan in motion and he could care less. She came up with a plan a couple of years ago when the house next door went on sale. 
   Our property line is basically the side of that house (quite literally, if the owner sticks his hand out of the window he's on our property). Because we have no fence between the properties my mother wanted to by several big planters to try and separate their carport from our yard...give us some privacy. Well, not only did that not happen (because she was waiting on my dad's okay) but the new neighbor decided to start planting brushes, trees and flowers along his house and therefore on our property. My mother stomped around the house complaining about this development, but never actually went to the neighbor and asked him to move his plants. Instead she said "well, he's just doing us a favor, because those plants belong to us now". That, my friends, is one of the stupidest and most passive aggressive things I've ever heard. But the more he plants the more she complains. Never have either of my parents gone to him and spoke about this. 
    Once she started to complain to me, my proactive brain started working. I asked if we have a layout of our property and where all the lines where...nope. I asked if he could be confused as to where the lines are and therefore doesn't realize what he's doing and if that's the case shouldn't he be informed...apparently that's too much effort. Finally, frustrated, I said since my parents are too afraid to speak that I would go over and talk to him about it...nope, can't have me doing that...that's too much like right.
     I'm writing about this, because I was on the back porch and noticed a new tree planted on our property and I know that as soon as my mother sees it this whole complaint session will start again. I really don't need or want to hear about it. I'm too irritated with her latest plan...which is switching out our old couch for three chairs she got from work. See it's a sofa bed and has to be taken apart before it can be moved. That's my dad's job and you know what that means! So in the meantime we have 3 extra chairs (four actually there's a chair that arrived from somewhere around Christmas and has never been returned to it's rightful place) sitting in an already over packed living room...
    My parents number one complaint about the house...."WE HAVE TOO MUCH CRAP" well people...that's because every time we turn around one of them is bringing new stuff into it.
    Is this how Hoarders start?


    Back to the neighbor. He's trying to beautify his area...unlike us, so I can't really blame him or fault him if he doesn't know about the property lines. But to my parents (mother really) that doesn't matter. Ugh

Take You as I See You

  Call me naive, call me gullible...call me stupid...but whatever you call me don't call me wrong. In life I try to live by that rule "Don't judge a book by it's cover" I'm not always successful (which is another post) but I try and in doing so I take that all the way to the bank. I trust people at their word, and I continue to trust them until they give me reason not to. Once they have, I'm done with them, my trust can never be regained. 
  I'm talking about this because I was thinking about a conversation I had a couple months ago. I had just stopped watching a child who attends my church and I had yet to get paid for the last week or so. I was already well aware of the parents finances and how/when the majority of their money came in. So, I wasn't worried or anxious about getting paid. In fact, I was just the opposite. I trusted that they would pay me as soon as they had the money and until then I wasn't going to worry about it. But I went to a friend's house and they were shocked that I had not only not been paid yet, but that I wasn't demanding to be paid right then are there. For the next 30 minutes or so I got doubled team about how I needed to call her and demand that I get my money or remind her somehow that they still owe me. The more I tried to explain my position the more they yelled at me and the more upset I became. Basically what these two people were telling me was that whatever trust I had built up with this family over that last few months should be thrown away for money. I know that's the world we live in...people see the opportunity to get money and don't really care who they screw over, but I'm not like that. If that makes me naive, then so be it. You see I'd rather be naive, I'd rather trust that people will do what they say then to walk around my whole life with a giant chip on my shoulder. I'd rather see the potential good over the potential negativity. I'd rather trust than not...it really keeps the stress down.
   Everyone chooses to conduct their lives differently based on experiences...my experiences tell me that when I trust people I'm more successful than when I don't. And when that trust is broken, my experience tells me never to trust that person again. That's how I view it...that's what I act on.


   In the end, without demanding something they couldn't give me at the time. Without looking and acting like some sort of craze bitch who has no tact I got the money owed to me. No questions, no hang ups. Because I had a relationship built on trust. So if I'm naive, gullible or stupid....fine, but I'm not wrong.

Baptism

  My brother was baptized last Sunday. 


  I assumed that he had already been baptized...since he had gone to a different church for so long and has a tendency to secretive. I just thought it was something he'd done and not mentioned. I was wrong.


  Baptism is a personal choice...but a big choice. It's a declaration to the world, to the body that I'm now apart of you. We can accept Jesus quietly without making much noise...without a big giant show. Just sitting, standing, kneeling or even driving we can ask Jesus into out hearts and lives. But baptism is a shout...it's a big giant leap, it's designed to show everyone that you're ready to walk the walk and talk the talk. 

  My brother did that this weekend.


   I am proud of him. I'm happy about the decision he's made not only to be baptized and presented to the community of followers, but also to help minister to the youth around him. To be the example of what it means to be a Christ follower.


   No one is perfect...but we can strive for it...we can live our lives in a way that will honor God and represent him to the best of our abilities. I know that Randal has accepted this challenge and will do his best.


   I love you and I pray that you will continue to be a man after God's own heart, a light onto the world and a person those around you can/will look up to!

Got Your Back

I was thinking, some people, when they talk to you, show a genuine interest in your life. Others just do the polite thing and say what they think they should say. This is true in any interaction, but most certainly comes through when you've known someone for a long time. The relationships you build over time are there for a reason and at some point you except a person to say the rough things you need to hear when you need to hear them.

The people who really care will hug you when you need it (or just because), they'll call you out on your crap when you need to hear it and they'll just sit with you when need them to (and won't try to solve your problems).

I found myself thinking about a particular person when reflecting on these aspects of friendship. He's someone who, when I really think on it knows more about me than most. And he's genuinely concerned about me when I least expect it. It's nice to know that someone has my back...even if I see him rarely.

Then, later in the day another friend, someone whose friendship I'm beinging to cherish showed an interest that very few others show. She is one who I know will be there when I need her. And I'm very happy about that.

It's nice to know completely that someone will be there when you need them...I just hope that the people I love know that about me.