Blinded by the sight?

So after my oh so bipolar post yesterday, I have to take a minute and rant. Please forgive the frustration. Its Wednesday, its cold, and people, I believe, are becoming stupider every day.

So, I have a question for you sighted folks out there who I have to run into every single day when I walk to and from school. You know those round sphere shaped things in your head? Parallel with your ears, above your nose? What are those things? Oh, that’s right. Eyes! So, sighted people who I just mentioned, what are those eyes actually used for? Seeing? Well, you know, I don’t have working eyes. I do have the little orbs, but they’re made of plastic. Therefore, they don’t work, and so I don’t see you coming hurtling towards me at your often crazy speeds.

I’ve noticed something very interesting when walking around campus. I know it has always been a problem to some extent, but I never realized the true insanity of it until I started walking to school on a daily basis. People are really truly oblivious! I see them every day. They’re walking and listening to their iPods, looking behind them to talk to friends, and my very favourite, texting!

So, at the moment I can think of two reasons why this drives me absolutely squirrelly. The first is that I have a dog. She is a guide dog. She is trained to do what she can to maneuver me around people, obstacles and random crap that’s in my way. If you’re coming at me head on and you’re moving fast and you’re not looking, she’s going to try to avoid you. But the sidewalk is only so wide. And then on the one side there’s grass, and on the other side there’s a road. Then, when you move and cut Rosamae off, it creates even more issue!

The second problem is, as I said before, I have prosthetic eyes. This has never happened to me before, thank God, but it is very possible that if you hit me hard enough when you slam into me, my eye could come out. Wouldn’t that be fun, random idiot texting? Although you most likely wouldn’t even notice it because you’re too busy with your texts from last night or whatever it is you text about.

So I’ve started to put my arm up in front of my face when I hear people passing me. It sounds mean, but I’m not trying purposely to hit them. I’m protecting my face from idiots who slam into me for whatever reason. I’m really tired of people not paying attention, and I’m sure this is not the first time someone has ranted about this, but really people? Can’t your texts wait? And, if you’re wearing your iPods, can you not look and listen at the same time? Is this stuff hard?

Which brings me, very clumsily, to my next point. I had not one but two people say really dumb things to me today that just made me shake my head.

The first was this morning when I got ready to go to school. I called a cab, since it was rainy and gross and I really didn’t have the energy to walk to school. I called the cab company and they said they’d have a car there shortly. I came outside right after making the call, and stood on my top step to wait for the car. About seven minutes later, I heard a car idling in the road. I walked slowly towards it, and tapped on the window to ask if he was a cab, since nobody was saying anything to me. His response was “Yeah. I’ve been watching you stand there for seven minutes. Why’d you make me wait so long if you knew I was here?”

Really? Just… really? See that black dog walking beside me, Sir? Do you see what she’s wearing? That big yellow and white thing is called a harness. On the harness, there is a sign that says “GUIDE DOGS FOR THE BLIND!” I got in the car and told the man I couldn’t see, and that this dog was a guide dog. He shrugged and just started to drive.

We arrived at Starbux because I wanted a latte. I got out of the car and entered the building. I spoke to the barista at the counter who was taking my order. She politely held out her hand for me to shake, and then she said “You can get your coffee over there at the counter with the yellow lights.”

This one really bugged me. The people at this Starbux know me. They see me come in semi regularly, and she even told me she saw me often. I said “The yellow lights eh?” And she said “Yeah, those ones over there.”

People kill me… They really do. Do I have to start wearing a bright orange vest with “BLIND” on it like I do when I’m on the ski hill? How hard is it to figure out that I can’t see? Does the guide dog not give it away?

For people who are supposed to have sight, it’s apparent that they are either not so bright, or really insanely unobservant. If people could just stop for two seconds and remove their craniums from their rectums, they might actually notice things that are right in front of them.

The Darkness and the Light

I've been thinking a lot about life in the last few days, and I thought I should write a blog entry about it. I'm not sure why, but I feel like it needs to be written.

I'm using word pad, so forgive me if the spacing or anything is weird. I've never used word pad before. I tried using notepad but it was being persnickity, and we don't have MS Word on the computer here in the music building, so I'm doing the best I can. It may seem dark and icky at first, and believe me, it was dark and very icky, but it has a happy ending. Again, I am going to put it out there. If you read this to the end, you get cookies... or something...

It all started three years ago October. It feels like it was so recent. I have a really hard time believing that it has been this long already. Everything seems to be moving faster as I grow up... but then, one does not easily forget trying to end one's life...

I was living on my own in Ottawa at the time, in my 3rd year of university. It was a Monday morning in mid October, just after Thanksgiving. I had felt very depressed for years. Actually, this is not entirely true. Sometimes I was depressed but other times I was crazy happy. My moods would often change completely randomly. I never could tell what would trigger them, I would just be happy one minute, and in tears the next.

I remember the Sunday, two of my close friends came to visit me in Ottawa. They had some things they had to do while they were there, and then they came to my apartment to help me clean up. My mother was due to come for dinner and stay the night, as she had to work in Ottawa the next day. We cleaned the place from top to bottom. It took us a few hours. We scrubbed it until it was shiny. We made dinner for Mom... talapia with Italian dressing and a salad.

Mom arrived early evening, bringing some groceries she had bought for me. We all sat down and ate dinner. Everything appeared to be going great. At around eight, my friends had to head back to Kingston, so we hugged and said good-bye. I do not remember what it was that Mom found, but there was a small spot that we had missed cleaning. We had a pretty ugly argument about it, she ended up cleaning it, and then we went to bed.

I didn't sleep that whole night. I thought we'd tried so hard to make it perfect for her, and no matter how hard we tried, it just wasn't good enough. I was crushed. I felt that I could not do anything right ever, and that I was a failure in her eyes. This was not her fault, I didn't much like myself at the time. So, I decided that the world was goign to be better off if I wasn't in it. I came up with a plan. We won't go into what the plan was, but it involved very nasty chemicals. I decided I had to go to class like normal the next day, which ironically happened to be psychology. Then I had to go to O and M so it didn't seem like there was anything wrong, and then I would come back and do what I had to do. I was terrified. I couldn't believe that after so many years of being depressed and feeling like I was crazy, I was actually going to finally go through with it.

The morning came, and Mom left for work. I believe my class that morning was at 8:30. It was around 5:30 when she left. I laid in bed for a few more hours, contemplating everything. I don't remember whether or not I had figured out what I was going to do with Rosamae. I think I was going to give her to my neighbours to look after for a bit while I did what I had to do. I didn't want the innocent puppy to know that I was about to end things. I figured she would have a better life with someone who was a bit more stable and normal.

So, for some reason that I will never understand, though I think it was my subconscious making sure someone knew what I was about to do so they could save me from it, I called two of my friends, and told them what I was planning. The one friend was in my class that morning, and I don't really remember how she reacted. I'm sure she was very concerned and upset, but I told her I would be in class so we could talk about it more when I saw her.

I remember the song BYOB by System of a Down was playing on my computer as I left for school that morning. I ran down the stairs, since I only lived on the 3rd floor. I cried the whole way down. I opened the door and started walking down the sidewalk, shaking and crying as I went. Then Al, the maintenance guy stopped me. He asked if I was alright. I lied and told him I was fine... because he was really going to believe that I was fine while I had tears running down my face. I don't remember how he convinced me to come back in to the rental office with me and talk to someone, but he did, so I went, putting up a fight. I told him that my bus was leaving soon and I had to get to class. I insisted that I had to get there on time. When we entered the office, I sat in a chair and rocked violently, more violently than I ever do now. I was pretty much completely incoherent at that point. I just kept telling them I was going to kill myself and I neded to leave please so I would not be late for class. One of the other maintenance guys, after I finally stopped crying, escorted me to the transit way so I could catch the bus.

The bus ride was uneventful. It was only one or two stops before I had to get off at the university and walk to the building where my class was taking place. I remember running into some girl who helped me figure out my way to the street where I needed to be. At that point my orientation sucked. I really didn't know my way around the university all that well. I remember thinking to myself that this would be the last time I'd ever be walking around Ottawa U, and these people would never see me again.

I got to class and sat through it. I have no memory of what we talked about, except I know there was a bit of discussion about the upcoming midterm. I sat beside my friend and told her everything. I don't remember her reaction at the time, although I believe she was the one who told me that I should speak with the teacher after class about this. So I did. After speaking to him about it a little, my O and M instructor showed up and we practised the route from the university to my apartment. I was getting ready for Chuck, the guide dog field rep, to come for the first time and see how Rosamae and I were doing together.

When I finally got home, I went to the convenience store and bought myself a bag of chocolate chip cookies. I have no idea why I did this; maybe I wanted a good snack before I did my thing. I got upstairs to my apartment and there were a few messages on my phone. One was from the friend from class saying she had been trying to call me and she had no idea where I was and why was I not answering my phone. I had forgot to tell her I had an O and M lesson after class, so she was pretty freaked out. Then I think I had a message from Dad. Don't really remember what it said either. I called my friend and told her I was fine and that I had just been out with the O and M instructor.

The next thing I knew, the police were at my door. I'd never had the police called on me before and I was a little freaked out. I told them my father was on his way and they had nothing to worrry about... so they left pretty quickly. Then Dad showed up, and he was furious. Somehow, we got in to visit my psychiatrist at the time on really short notice. She told me I had to go to counselling and she very quickly switched my drug from Topomax to Epival.

Earlier that morning, I had found out from a friend in the states that topomax had some pretty severe and crazy side affects. One of the biggest most scary ones was a man who, during the drug trial, was on the medication and used a chainsaw to cut off his leg. I had some very terrifying thoughts a few days before and I was wondering if they had something to do with the medication.

After visiting my psychiatrist, Dad took me back to the apartment and we sat and talked for awhile. I found out then that it had been my best friend in the world at the time who had called the police on me... except she told me that the only reason she called the police was so they would take my guide dog away from me, since I was not mentally stable enough to care for her. Don't mmake me go into this ex friend's own mental instability, because that's not the point of this entry.

I talked to Mom on the phone. I don't really remember her reaction, except obviously she was really upset and concerned. She and Dad both told me I had two choices. The first choice was to stay in Ottawa and each of them would stay with me and keep watch in shifts. Kep in mind this was a one bedroom apartment that was pretty small. So, it was either that or come home for awhile and try to get some help.

I had to consider this decision carefully. If I came home, it would mean that I would have to drop out of school that year. I was very afraid of doing that and not graduating, or failing my parents, which I'd already done enough of that week, at least in my mind. But if I were to stay in Ottawa, I'd never get any independence. That's the price you pay when you try to do these things.
So I took Rosamae outside to relieve her, and I asked her what she thought I should do. Maybe it was just my conscience speaking to me, but in my head I imagined it was her saying "Barb, you need to go home, and you need to get help."

So that's precisely what I did... Except the help wasn't really all that helpful.

But here's the thing that comes out of all of this. I'm alive! I never thought I'd be happy about it, but my God am I ever grateful that, no matter what other people's motives were, I got saved.

Three years later:

I walk down the street, my guide dog at my side. She makes suer I'm safe and that nothing bad will ahpppen to me on her watch. She is the most beautiful, most loyal animal I've ever met, and even when I have bad days where I become impatient with her, she loves me, unconditionally.

I sit on a couch, my boyfriend in my arms. His mother plays with his baby daughter. They start laughing, and I can't help but join in. Its infectious, its contageous, and its wonderful.

I wake up on a Saturday morning, cuddled close to the most amazing guy I could ever ask for. We sit and drink coffee on the couch together as the sun rises. He holds my hand and I feel overwhelmed with love.

Its Sunday night. I am back at Dad's house, eating dinner. Sometimes a roast, sometimes spaghetti, it doesn't matter. I'm with my family, and though they may be frustrating at times, they are my family, and they love me.

I sit in the harmony lab. I goof around on the piano while the other students are practising or playing for the prof. Because we all have headphones plugged into our pianos, I can do this. The prof asks me to play something for him and I can do it with no problem.

I'm at the farm. I kneel on the hard wood floor, and I begin my pursuit. I'm a monster! I like to catch little people and eat them up! Livi crawls away as fast as she can, squeaking and giggling the whole time. Then we hug, and I pick her up and we dance together while one or both of us sings to each other. She has the softest little voice, and I know she's going to be a true musician some day.

I'm with my best friends of all time. We wake up in the morning, take our guide dogs out to do their morning business, and then we eat home made egg McMuffins and drink beer. But don't worry, this one only happens a few timse a year.

I sit in my big red rocking chair. I either put on a good book or a tv show, and I work the yarn with my knitting needles. I am always fascinated how each new row of stitches is different, but it creates something that will eventually be worn to keep one warm in winter time... and I'm making it with my own hands!

I get a call from one of the heads of the department of music at Queen's. She informs me that I have been accepted into 2nd year ear training, as well as I continue to attend 1st yera ear training as well. Of c ourse I will attend. My friends are there, and I enjoy it very much.

I sit at a piano, and play the chord progressions that my theory prof has assigned me. Apparently, I'm a "gifted student". Me? Gifted? OK... whatever you say.

And I sit in an almost packed auditorium. Everyone sings together, in such amazing harmonies. Finally, after three years, I fit in somewhere.

Sometimes, when I'm wlaking back home from a day at school, or I'm sitting on the swings, or doing whatever I'm doing, I think of what it would be like if I had stayed in Ottawa. Would I have tried gaain to end things? Would I have found a way to convince my parents I was ok, and then, when they finally left me alone, I would try again? I certainly would not have the friends I have now. I would not have this boyfriend, this baby, this family who has accepted me as one of their own. If things had turned out differently, I would not be who I am, and I can not imagine that.

I am so lucky to be here, and to be able to write this all down now. I might not have much money, and sometimes I still have times when I really do not feel ok. There was a week or two in October, right around the anniversary of my attempt where I would not leave my house except to relieve Rosamae. I hardly spoke to nayone. There were three people that I spoke to every day and even they did not realize the extent of what was wrong. I was really scared there for awhile. I thought "What if I'm going crazy again?" But people sometimes just have rough times. This is normal. And, as of late, I'm closer to normal than I have ever been.

I can't help but laugh

I just received an email from some person that sends out emails to the Queen's community about events, calendar stuff, and really anything else that's important for Queen's students to know.

As you may or may not know, our homecoming celebrations have made national news for several years now, especially the Aberdine Street party.

Two years ago, the principle of the university stopped homecoming for two years, and said that the only way we could get our homecoming back was to break the cycle of the annual Aberdine Street party.

So last year, there was an unofficial homecoming deemed Fauxcoming. Police were out in full force, and being complete and utter retards in the opinions of most people who attended. I was there myself, not partying at all, but helping friends protect their house. I have to say, it was pretty terrifying. There was essentially a stand off. The students and party goers were on our side of the street in a huge line, while the police were also in a line on the other side. I had never heard so many people gathered on one street. I can't remember much about it, because I was I was playing guitar and singing with my friends so I didn't have to hear it. The one big thing I do remember though, was having to get home that evening. It was really scary. My friend's place was on Aberdine, but it had a backyard that came out on William street, so my friend and I decided it would be safer to go out the back way. We did so, but discovered that even on William, it was insane. There were bottles smashed everywhere, people drunk out of their minds all over the place, and God only knows what else on the ground. So my friend had to literally pick up Rosamae and cary her on his shoulders until we were able to get to a safe spot where we could meet my cabby.

Having said all this, we got an email basically outlining what actions ned to be taken in order for us to get our homecoming back. It reads as follows:

To the students of Queen’s University:



As the traditional time for Homecoming weekend draws near, the AMS and your faculty and residence societies would like to provide you with information on what to expect this weekend and in the months that follow. Included is information we have gained from discussions with both Kingston police and Queen’s administrators, so that you may make informed decisions throughout this weekend and the fall.



Homecoming Suspension



Two years ago, fall Homecoming was suspended for two years out of concerns for the safety of the Aberdeen street party by then Principal Tom Williams, as this street party had become linked to official Homecoming activities. The AMS, Queen’s, and the City had worked for several years to manage the event, but the crowd continued to grow and Principal Williams deemed cancellation the only solution. Last year, the University was encouraged by a lower turnout and good judgement shown by our community. They have clearly communicated, however, that it is not until the cycle of this party is broken that we may begin conversations about the return of a fall Homecoming.



In past years, the AMS has requested a street closure from the Kingston City Council in the interest of preserving student safety on Aberdeen. This meant that the street was legally closed and those on it would not be arrested or fined for being present. There was no street closure last year, and there will be no street closure this year.



Expectations for “Fauxcoming”



Kingston police will be responding directly to unlawful activities in similar numbers as last year. It is likely that they will be actively enforcing the Highway Traffic Act, liquor violations, and violations of the 24 hour noise by-law in Kingston. These offences carry fines ranging from $90+ for violations of the noise by-law to up to $1, 000+ for illegal sale of alcohol. For those in professional programs it should be noted that you may not practice your trade if you have a criminal record.



If you are approached by an officer, be mindful that their first concern is your safety and the safety of those around you. In the past, many people with no connection to our University have flocked to Aberdeen Street with no regard for this school and often questionable intentions, including those with criminal records well known to the police. If you have any questions or concerns about potentially suspicious activity, please do not hesitate to contact the police. If for any reason you feel that you have been mistreated by an officer, please contact the Office of the Independent Police Review Director to file a complaint. All information may be found on their website, www.oiprd.on.ca.



Moving forward to reinstate fall Homecoming



The final decision regarding the return of a fall Homecoming rests with Principal Woolf, and he will be looking closely at the events of the fall when he makes this decision at the end of the calendar year. He has said that the cycle of illegal and unsafe street parties, no matter where they occur, must be truly broken and show no sign of returning before he considers reinstating a University event that had become undifferentiated with such activities. While this may not happen immediately, it is important that as students we communicate our wishes to the administration via our actions this year.



An uneventful fall sends a message that we value Homecoming’s return, and allows the administration to truly differentiate between official University events and unsanctioned gatherings.



This weekend is of particular importance given the volume of recent media attention directed at Queen’s students. Our actions will be under increased national scrutiny, giving us the chance to demonstrate our commitment to, and respect for, our community and the traditions we hold dear. The AMS will continue to work in the best interest of students with the university to ensure that when the tradition returns, students and alumni can celebrate their university in a safe, sustainable way. If you are looking for more resources covering both on and off campus safety, please visit www.queensu.ca/studentaffairs/safety.html



Each of us is dedicated to finding ways to keep Queen’s traditions alive, and we value your input. If you have any additional questions or concerns, please contact...

So, let's look at this for a minute. I personally do not give a flying fuck about homecoming. I will not be here this year for it, and I'm very glad of that. I do think its insane and that the people who attend can get seriously out of hand. Having said that though, do they really think that cancelling homecoming will fix everything? I mean, it was still on last year and, while they say it was a lot better than in the past, it was still completely insane. Do they really think that students are going to heed this message?

I really have no idea what's going to happen, but if last year was any indication, it will be another crazy year.

The part I like about this email is where they talk about how the police are just there for your safety. Really? Is that why they're there? Let me tell you a little story.

Last year, I believe it was the Friday night, one of my friends was out for a walk. I believe he was talking on his cell phone, and accidentally walked into the side of a police horse. He was not intoxicated in any way. He just wasn't paying attention to where he was going. They took his wallet and all of his ID away, cuffed him, and took him to the drunk tank for the night.

But really, they're just looking pout for our safety. OK then. Well done, Officers. Never mind that they gave him a breath test and he blew a 0. Never mind that he told them he was sober, and got proof. He was hauled off anyway. Ridiculous.

So, I'm just glad I won't be around this weekend. I don't really live all that close to Aberdine, but I'm sure its going to be pretty insane even here. I'm not really sure how to end this, so have fun, be safe, and don't die?

On Religion and our general place in the universe

WARNING!!!!
This post may really piss off some people, so read at your own discretion, and keep in mind this is not a personal attack on anyone. Its just my views about... well you'll read it and understand I hope...

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past few months, about religion, about what people draw from it… About our sort of place in the Universe, to say it broadly. I just finished a Deep Space 9 episode called Accession, and it inspired me to write down some of my thoughts, for whatever they’re worth. I’ll start by giving a brief synopsis of the episode I just finished, and then hopefully tie it to the crap that’s been bubbling around in this crazy brain of mine. I’m still feeling a bit icky, and really tired and weird, so forgive me if this just looks like a rambling pile of sound and fury, signifying nothing. On that note…

So, the episode has two themes that are sort of intertwined. The theme I’m really trying to draw attention to in this post is that of religion and blind faith. It’s a bit of a challenge to explain this so people don’t have to know everything that is going on in the series without watching it. Basically, in the very beginning, the commander on the space station finds what is called a worm hole, where people and ships can travel from one quadrant in the galaxy to another. In this worm hole, there are aliens. Sisco, the commander of the station, meets these aliens and speaks with them at length about their purpose and his, and why the worm hole exists etc. The Bajorans, (a race of people who are trying to become part of the united federation of planets) are a very religious people. They believe that these aliens are their prophets. The Bajoran people have ancient texts, which are supposed to be like scriptures. They always talk about “walking with the prophets” and “following the prophets” etc. So, since Sisco met the worm hole aliens, and the ancient Bajoran texts say that the Emissary will meet the prophets, and they will give him his life back, the Bajoran people believe that Sisco is the emissary.

OK. I think that makes sense, for anyone who is not or did not follow the show. So, let’s skip ahead five years. In this episode, a ship comes through the worm hole. We find out that the one inhabitant on the ship is a 200 year old Bajoran poet. After some conversation with this man, he tells Sisco that Bajor used to employ a cast system. I had a very minimal understanding of how a CAST system worked, so I asked Google, and this is what it told me.

It divides humanity into classes by a number of things. In the Hindu caste system one may be divided by occupation. The priestly and educated at the top, the soldiers and leaders next followed by traders and farmers. Artist and service people would be considered the lowest.

So, when this old Bajoran poet, whose name I think was Corum, finds out that Keera Nerice is a major, and thus a soldier, he learns of the fact that the cast system was removed when the occupation happened. The occupation is a big deal, but really does not matter for this rant.

OK, so we’ve established that Bajor no longer has a CAST system, and old Corum is none too pleased with this idea. He truly, honestly believes that he is the real emissary. He found the worm hole centuries before Sisco did, and so talked to the aliens before Sisco did, and he was injured and the aliens saved him and brought him back. So, when looking at the “Ancient texts”, it all fits. At first, Sisco is relieved. He never really believed he was the emissary anyway, and it made him entirely uncomfortable. We see this demonstrated several times throughout the show.

So, when Corum says he is to be the true emissary, Sisco steps down right away and allows Corum to take his place. Corum gives a big speech to the Bajoran people about how he is going to reinstate the CAST system. As a result of this, the chances of Bajor being allowed to join the federation are not very good, and Sisco tells the emissary this. The emissary, however, is so set in his ways, and trying so hard to do exactly what the “Ancient texts” tell him to, that this fate really doesn’t seem to bother him.

Later on in the episode, we see Bajorans who are lower rank than Keera moving out of her way, almost seeming afraid of her. She is deeply saddened by this, and so she tells Sisco that she will be resigning her post as first officer so she can go live back on Bajor, in her proper place in the CAST system. Sisco is very upset by this, but hardly has any time to think about it when he gets a call from his chief of security, informing him that someone was killed on the promenade.

When Sisco comes to investigate, the emissary’s right-hand man, who never had a name, informs everyone that he killed the Bajoran. The Bajoran that he killed was one of the lower ranking spiritual leaders, and he was interacting with people who were not on the same CAST as he was, and the emissary’s man servant guy said that the Bajorans needed to be taught a valuable lesson. Of course, as captain of DS9, and as a morally good person, Sisco is infuriated. He talks to Corum, and they decide they have to visit the worm hole in order to find out who the true Emissary really is.


When they arrive at the worm hole, and converse with the aliens, they learn that the aliens are caring entities, and that they wanted to help Corum since he was so gravely injured. But they make it clear that Sisco is the true Emissary, and he finally accepts his place in Bajoran spirituality.

Wow!! Was that a long enough explanation for ya? I hope it makes sense.

So, how does this connect to the real world that we live in? I have many Christian friends, and I am willing to bet that if I smooshed them all together in one room to eat a meal together, and we talked about things, many of them would not agree with each other. People would have differing views, but in the end, everyone believes that they are right. Everyone always says “Well, God has his reasons” or sometimes its “Well maybe there’s a reason God doesn’t want you to know the answers.”

How convenient an answer, when you don’t know the real one. This might sound harsh and a bit snarky, so I’m going to apologize to my Christian friends in advance. This is not an attack on you in any way. This is just questions of logic, and… I’m not sure what to call this.

So, going back to DS9 for a moment. In the episode described above, there are several instances where people mention the fact that they don’t like what the new Emissary is suggesting, but they must follow it if they want to “Walk with the prophets”. They say “The Ancient Bajoran Texts tell us that…” all the time and they try to explain so many different decisions, using the scriptures as their argument. Does this sound to anyone else like something we all know of have heard here on Earth? That’s what I thought.

So, let’s take, for example, the part of the story where the Bajoran leader was killed because he was not giving the proper attention to the CAST system. The Emissary’s argument was that the prophets said they must have the system reinstated. But if that were true, why were the prophets not pushing harder for that CAST system before Corum showed up? Doesn’t it seem just a little odd? One might argue that since Sisco never really took his role as Emissary seriously, nobody really knew what the prophets wanted. But, if the prophets wanted something so much, and it was really their will that this CAST system be put in place, do you not think they would have done something about it? They are the most like Gods, after all.

This brings me to another story from real life. I was walking to my local convenience store a few months back, and the cashier there was someone I didn’t know. I know most of the people that work there, since I used to go there and buy milk all the time. As an aside, for anyone who lives in Kingston and is a Queen’s student, buy your milk at Campus one stop. It’s cheaper, and for whatever reason its better quality. Oh and the customer service is about twelve million times better than it is at the Max here. Anyway, getting back on topic. I bought my freezie and approached the cash to pay for it. While I was making my transaction, the cashier, who was an elderly gentleman, spoke to me. He said, “You know, Dear, I go to this church in Kingston, and if you were to come on Sunday mornings, we do healing services. Jesus will give your sight back.”

I’ve heard of other blind people getting this talk before, but somehow I’d never been the recipient of that in the past. And I was angry. I’m not sure why, but I was really unimpressed. So I did something that some might consider rude, but I hoped he would never ask me again. I showed him the white part of my prosthetic eye and said “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Jesus can’t heal this.” To which he replied “The Bible says that Jesus can rebuild anything.” OK Buddy, whatever.

So it brings me back to my initial question. Do you not think that if Jesus wanted me to be different, I would be different? And the part that frustrates me even more is, I have spoken to a few of my Christian friends about this, and a few in particular have said that maybe he’s right, and perhaps Jesus will give me my sight back.

So, let’s just break this down for a minute. First of all, you can’t give something back to someone if they never had it in the first place. Second, with all due respect to my friends, that sounds to me like they think either Jesus is doing it wrong, or that he doesn’t like me the way I am so he will change me. Except that I haven’t been given sight back. I hope never to get sight at all. What sighted people don’t realize is that if I were to have my sight “restored”, it would screw me up majorly! I would have to relearn everything I’ve ever learned. People don’t think about how complex gaining a whole new sense might be.

And then, part of me wonders if the people who think Jesus is going to heal me think I’m less of a person, or I’m sick or diseased or something because I’m blind. Why do they choose the word “heal”? I know it’s probably a silly thought, and really it doesn’t matter to me what the rest of them think, it just got me to thinking, since I watched that DS9 episode.
And here’s the part that I’m not sure I should post, because I do not want to hurt or offend anyone, but it’s really bothering me, and the people about whom I will talk already know my views, so I’m going to say it and not feel ashamed.

I have a friend. She is a very sweet, innocent girl, who grew up in a whole different culture from our own. She is smart, beautiful, and very giving and caring towards others. She has a heart of gold, and I am glad we are friends.

The other week, we were talking, as I had not seen her all summer, and she told me she had discovered her sexuality, finally. I was really excited for her! It was about time she was able to find people to whom she was attracted. But, she believes that she is wrong for the attraction. See, she is attracted to women. And apparently, according to the Bible, homosexuality is wrong wrong wrong! So she proceeded to inform me that she was getting therapy to turn her straight.

I was outraged. How can you honestly think that homosexuality is so wrong? Does the Bible not tell you to judge not lest ye be judged? Does it also not say to love your neighbour? Is the whole point of the coming of Christ not love? I don’t remember the scripture that specifically says being gay is bad. But I’m sure somebody’s going to find it for me, and that’s all well and good.

But this then brings me to ask another question. Is the Bible not an ancient text? And, was it not translated from… I don’t remember what the language was, but the point is how many different translations of the Bible are out there? And how many times do we see different interpretations of the Bible? And how do we, as humans, know what is the right translation? Doesn’t it seem a little… convenient? It feels like, when the head or heads of a Church decide they don’t like something, they can find a translation of the Bible to back their argument. Then we come back to people blindly following the word of God, because they feel that they have to, in order to get to Heaven or be right with the Lord or whatever it is they need. So, never mind that you are not attracted to men in any way and that you might have to just spend the rest of your life alone, never dating anyone. That doesn’t matter as long as you get to Heaven and be as perfect as you can be for your God? I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound like a very fulfilling life to me. And if that’s what God honestly wants me to do, I have no interest, thanks very much. I’m going to live my life to the fullest. I try to be a good person. I try to love people and show them respect. Help people when they need it, and accept the fact that sometimes I need help too. I may not live the normal lifestyle that normal people are used to, and you know what? It works for me, I don’t see how it infringes upon anyone else, and honestly? I’m happie3r for recognizing that about myself.

I think, on some level, I have always believed in God, and in Jesus. I’ve learned about them since before I can remember. I was never taught that I should live in fear constantly of doing wrong by God. I sometimes like to joke that Jesus was the original hippie. Think about it. He’s the son of a carpenter. He’s got the long hair, and he went around the world, and what did he preach? Oh, that’s right, I remember! Peace and love!!!

I think there is a huge difference between being a spiritual person and being part of a church. I was speaking with my boyfriend and his family on the subject the other day, because this is really bothering me, and he said that the one thing the Johova’s witnesses get right is that they call their building a worship hall, or is it a temple? I can’t remember, but either way, it’s not a Church. The Church is the group of people who congregate and worship together. And, as much as I know it angers a lot of Christians out there, I think I’m going to stick to believing in God and Jesus, but I really want no part of the Church, thanks. If the Church can decide that they have the ultimate power over what I do in my life, I have no interest in a bunch of people being so afraid of God, or whatever it is they feel, that they can tell me how I must live my life.

I don’t claim to know Jesus, or God at all really. I would like to think, though, that God is looking at these people and their claims to know everything that God tells them since they always follow the Bible, and going “SeriouslyGuys?” I mean, I just think it’s ridiculous that someone should have to force themselves to be something or someone they’re not just because the Church or a therapist employed by the Church says its wrong.

One last rant, before I run out of energy and call it a day. I had another friend who just recently “went back to God”. She used to be married to another friend of mine, who is also a woman. I wouldn’t say they were a happy couple, but there was absolutely no doubt in the first woman’s mind that she was lesbian. She would never ever be interested in men. She had dated at least three women before the most current ex, and there was no question that she was lesbian and that’s just how it was… Except now that she’s back to God, she’s become a gay hater too. OK, maybe not a hater, but she says that being gay is absolutely wrong. The Bible says it’s against God’s rules, etc.

So can someone please explain to me how a woman that determined never to be straight again is now dating an older man, who, just to add to the drama, is the ex husband of one of her ex wives. Do you honestly think that God just came to her one day and said “Hey Babe. Its time to straighten up and fly right”? I’m sorry, but I have serious doubts there. But that’s a whole other post altogether, and really I don’t think I have the energy to go off on that rant just now.

For those of y’all who are still reading, I apologize for novel. Seriously, this is longer than any essay I’ve ever written, but I really needed to write out my thoughts here, because some of this stuff just completely boggles my mind. For those who might be offended by what I’m on about, I apologize if you were hurt by what I said. I do not take my words back, however. I have learned recently that you can still be someone’s friend and apologize, explaining your intension was not to hurt anyone, but you can still stick by what you said and not feel guilty about it. Someone’s always going to get their feathers ruffled over something. It doesn’t mean they are wrong, and it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m right. It just means we have differing opinions, and really, what would be the fun in everyone thinking the same thing all the time?

You're my Inspiration

Herro there! Haven't talked to folks on this thing in far too long. A lot has happened in the last two and a half months, but that's another post for later, if I can manage to get up the energy.

So this morning I was sitting on the swings across the street from my apartment, contemplating life. I was thinking how today marks 9 months being with the boy. He's a fantastic boy, and gets better every time we're together. But this got me thinking of an idea. I've decided to try and find something every day that inspires me and write about it here. This could be something I see on a tv show, maybe song lyrics, maybe a link to an article I find interesting or thought inspiring. We'll see how long I can actually stick to this. I like the idea though. Its good to be inspired.

So, without further adew, I give you today's inspiration. Its a song by Jimi Hendrix. I didn't hear his version first though, I heard John Mayer's version. Its a song called Bold as Love This is the Hendrix version. The video has the lyrics, but since the two people who are reading this can't see, I give you
some pretty beautiful lyrics

I really like this song. Afraid to try and learn it though. Anything Hendrix plays is a mind fuck but that's ok. We love him.

I'll be back either later on today for a post about life, or tomorrow with something new and inspiring for the day.

On sadness and smiles

Wow… what a crazy, wonderful, terrifying, depressing, fantastic week this has been.

What you’re thinking. How can it be that many things all in one week?

The week started pretty terribly. I woke up Sunday morning and I cried and cried. There was no stopping it. No restraining or hiding it. Juste head on desk, gasping for air, and everything was coming out. I sort of know what triggered part of that, but I’m not going to go into it here. I will say that it is working on being resolved. The resolution will take time, but it will, I believe, happen and end very well.

I’m finished classes now, but still finishing up some last minute assignments and such. Had a meeting with my drama prof on Wednesday morning. Gave him my staging assignment, which was really not adapted well and he knew it. We have decided together that he’s going to give me something else to do.

Wednesday was a great day. Brew pub with the boy and some good times together. But then, there aren’t many bad times when we’re together, and when they are they often transform into better times.

Then Thursday happened. I went from 0 to 60 with 0 being normal and functioning within normal paramaters, and 60 being laying on the desk gasping for air and sobbing my heart out again. Actually, I can’t even say that. It was more like -60 to 60 in less than a minute. Scary stuff when you’re supposed to be coming out of your depression borderline personality whatever the hell you have. Thank God for one of my best friends in the world who heard my hysterical phone message and proceeded to talk to me for two and a half hours. He got me calm again. My head felt more level and I was ready to go out to the bar with the boy’s parents. Without the boy. I talked to my best friend on my cell phone from the swings near my new place. Walked the entirely wrong way down Alfred street and ended up at the memorial centre, as opposed to the library. Yup, opposite ends of the street, but that’s ok because the boy’s parents found me.

A few observations from last night:

• Silence really isn’t that terrifying
• Rosamae walks faster after she has sneezed a five pound cloud of sand out of her nose
• I have the greatest, most caring, loving, amazing friends in the Universe
• I have that unforgettable nothing short of incredible boyfriend
• His parents and I are pretty good friends and I think of them not just as his parents, but as people with whom I am on the same level
• If I’m on the brink of insanity and you come up behind me and say “I know I shouldn’t pet her because she’s a working dog but I think I’m gonna anyway” I will respond with “And why, if you know she’s a working dog and you know you’re not supposed to do that would you go ahead and do it anyway?” Then turn my back and say, without any input from my brain, only my mouth “Tally ho, Fuck Face”, whatever the hell that means
• I don’t have an issue being in a room where people are smoking dope, but the minute you tell me you saw someone do a line of cocaine in the bathroom I get freaked out

Today was Anna’s birthday celebration. We tried this relatively new place in town called Taj Curry House and man is it ever fabulous! And very reasonably priced. There was myself, the boy, Anna and my good friend Julian. The four of us clicked really well. We went on to the Sleepless Goat, where Eddie went out of his way and bought me a non-dairy hot chocolate with soy instead, which I scoffed at and said “God I hate soy” before realizing just what lengths he went to in order to make sure I didn’t have dairy the night before my voice audition. God I’m a rude cow sometimes without thinking about it, but he paid it no mind and just drank it and I drank the one with milk… But seriously, how sweet is that? And how selfish am I?

We then found swings… not just any ordinary swings, those big round ones that look like flying saucers. I turn four years old again when I’m onthem. Classic moment was when I slowed down and the boy jumped on behind me. I shrieked like a fool. Everyone else laughed hysterically at my expense. It was an awesome night.

I just want to reiterate the fact that I am the luckiest.

Two weeks from tomorrow, I’m out of here. I can’t believe how fast its coming. Its really starting to freak me out now. I have my own phone number again. Its awesome!

There was a to do with Ottawa Hydro and deposits and whatever, but that’s another entry for another day.

Julian mixzed me a bottle of three different essential oils. I have sprayed it in my room, and its just gorgeous. I feel more calm, relaxed and happy enough that I want to cry… It’s a pretty good feeling. Life is pretty amazing.

Texas day 4

I'd like to start this blog post by saying I spent last night feeling ashamed of my country. Why? Because we lost in hockey to the U.S. Seriously? So disappointing. What made it more disappointing was the fact that I watched it with Annie and a guy who has been born and raised in Texas, and despite the fact that he believes hockey is not a sport, he got to have a good laugh at me for losing. I am a sad panda.

But let us not dwell on the negative but instead I will tell you all a story. It is a happy story involving not one but two motorized vehicles, both of which I learned to drive yesterday. I started with the John Deer tractor. It is a pretty small farm tractor, but a farm tractor nonetheless, and Lary, Annie's friend, taught me how to drive it. I aws rather nervous about it at first. And apparently there are a good number of Texans who don't know left from right. So Lary and I worked out a system where he would tap the hand that coincided with whatever direction he wanted me to go. This method worked pretty well. We drove around the perimeter of the round pen for awhile, and then we started to fix Annie's fence. I got assigned the task of taking the points that the horses had knoecked off and placing them on top of the posts. It was easy, very similar to putting lego together. By the time I finished that job, Annie had returned from her trip to get... I don't even remember what she was getting. Anyway, she took me over to the gator, and instructed me on how to drive it. We had good fun driving around and harrowing the ground. The ground is very rough and uneven right now because of the poor weather Texas has been having lately. We didn't get all the harrowing done, but we will continue work on it today, since it is very windy out, and we can't ride the horses when the wind is gusty like it is.

We didn't end up going to the open jam session as we had planned because by that point I was cold and happy to just have a night in with Annie and Lary. Warning. When Annie makes you drinks that might contain vodka, they will be strong... Great, delicious and excellent, but I keep getting a buz off one drink... So either they are strong drinks or my tolerance level is going down. Either way it is great.

This place is really peaceful. I am so lucky to be here this week, despite the crap weather. Annie is very insightful and wise, and I love listening to her speak and tell me stories. This is one of the best vacations I've had in a long time. She is kind, she is firm but not mean, and she has a way of teaching me things that others have tried to teach me numerous times but I never got them before. When she teaches me, I get it. I hpoe we wlil be friends for a good long time.

That's all the news I have for now. Aaron is coming back today to put Orlando's back shoes on him, so it should be fun to see him again. I don't know what the weather is like back home, but I hope everyone is keeping warm.