Now I’ve got you guessing. Good! How can someone not like either the city or the country. The answer to that lies in a definition.

To most people ‘country’ is farmland, rolling hills, plains and somewhat distant from the hustle and bustle of city life. To some,  a small town is a city. To me? Well, to me ‘country’ is dense forests, jagged mountains, babbling brooks and roaring rivers. ‘Country ‘ is climbing rough trails, stopping to catch my breath or regain my footing.

Ah yes, the country. Fragrant wildflowers, perky pines, deer jumping over bushes here and there. There’s nothing like the shocking tartness of a wild raspberry and the smooth glide of the perfect skipping stone plucked out of the very river it was skipped in, having been polished by years of rushing water and sediment.

Beauty is everywhere to behold in this glorious place of my memories… Let me share with you a story about a doe.

She stood at the far end of the pond I walked by on my way to school every morning. I was eleven, she was a young doe, not full grown, but certainly no longer a fawn. There was a small group of her fellow deer surrounding her, all does but for one solitary buck with a meek 4 point rack. As I walked past on my usual route I glanced at this group and at first thought nothing of it. She looked up at me, her head snapping to attention like a little deer soldier. Did I mention it was snowing? There was about ten inches of snow on the ground and the pond was frozen over. Such a beautiful sight…

I had begun to stare for a moment as I thought it was interesting that only this one doe cared to pay any attention to my passing. She stared back. I stopped walking and stood with my back pack hanging over my right shoulder, and I just stared… and stared. She took a step, then another. A moment later she came trotting around the pond, stopping maybe a dozen feet away. Cautiously she takes a few steps closer… closer still.

I watch in awe as this young doe stops only a few feet away from me. Finally she takes one more step. I could have touched her nose had I dared. We were locked in this seemingly endless gaze, curiosity and awe transferring between our thoughts. For a moment I was sure we were thinking the exact same thing, that thought being “I think I know you.”

Reluctantly I took a step back, I had to get to school. She turned quickly and hopped quickly back to her friends, turning back to watch me walk away while the others grazed on the tufts of grass here and there without a single concern. Every few steps I would turn to look back, she would chomp a bite of tall grass here and there, and look back up to watch me walking away. I was sure neither of us wanted me to leave.

I doubt the little deer is still alive, I’m 26 now and goodness knows there were plenty of hunters in Montana. It is a sad thought, but realistic nonetheless. Regardless,  I’ll never forget that magical moment, when two worlds collided in perfect tranquility. Perhaps she was a human in a past life, or I a deer. But that’s a whole other conversation…

Beautiful is not the word to do justice for this miraculous world I miss so dearly. Nor is country… Nonetheless, country, wilderness, forest, mountains; this is the world I prefer greatly over the city, noise, hustle, bustle and commerce. The wilderness sings the song of my soul. What beat does your heart groove to?

Why do I talk like that, it doesn’t help anything. Sounds like depression, probably is, though I’m not sure if I should care or not. Most depression medications just have a list of horrifying side effects like suicidal thoughts, or functional failure of some organ. Lovely! Yep, that makes me want to reach out for help! Give me some Fuckitol please!

I digress…

I’m trying to figure out what to do with myself. I want a career. I want something to look forward to doing everyday instead of dreading going to work at my McJOB. Yeah, that’s me. A pathetic fry scooper, burger flipper, (even though we don’t really FLIP the burgers – they’re cooked on a clam shell grill, that means they are pressed like waffles and cook from both top and bottom.)

While I’m on the subject, I can’t stand it when people make fun of those who work in fast food. I can’t stand people who think that it’s the easiest job in the world and anyone can do it. Do you have any idea how many inbred imbeciles try to work there and don’t last for two days? Well do you? There’s a lot. The employment turnover rate is nothing less than depressing. I hate the fact that there’s no point in learning someone’s name until they’ve lasted for  at least two weeks.

Working in fast food requires a great amount of patience. A great deal of common sense. A willingness to have your dignity torn to shreds just to make a buck, honestly I’d rather be a stripper, at least then customers would be admiring me while I work instead of talking down to me like a worthless piece of manure. Anyway… fast food requires a strong back, strong arms and legs. There is much heavy lifting to be done! And by all means, you must be fast! Fast food jobs are challenging. They are not for people who cannot communicate and who refuse to play nice with others.

Fast food sucks. But here’s the kicker, on average, a salaried store manager makes about the same amount as an airplane pilot. I’m serious, go do some research and see for yourself. So if you’re unable to get any kind of college education, or go to a trade school, then it’s the next best thing, as long as you can become a manager… But that’s easier said than done. There is always some backstabbing bitch that is threatened by someone better than themselves who won’t let you get promoted… But I digress…

I want a better job! I’m tired of being tired all the time! I’m tired of answering to a bunch of yuppies who don’t know half as much as I do and were only promoted because they’re professional ass kissers! Being an editor isn’t my dream job, but it’s something I’m good at. It’s something I can actually enjoy and appreciate. It will most likely be much more lucrative than working in fast food.

So that’s it, I just need a change of pace, the sooner the better.

This is my profile, and I’m free to speak my mind about what I believe and don’t believe in…

I don’t believe that I have to have religion in my life to be a good person. I work hard, I take care of my family, I have given up nasty habits, I am working toward a better education so I can do better for my family, and give back to my extended family for all the things they’ve helped me with. These things in my mind, make me a good person.

Now, I don’t go to church, I don’t believe in God or Jesus. I have never kept this a secret, but I don’t go around boasting about it all the time and throwing these facts into peoples faces, like many people I know, and many more that I don’t know.. But every once in a while, the topic crosses my path through conversation brought about by others in person, or through mediums such as facebook… Rarely ever do I bring up the subject myself because of all the negativity surrounding it. And I make the horrid mistake of speaking my mind about it….

Then suddenly I’m a sick, demented individual because I agree with an ‘adult-minded’ metaphor and speak a little bit of my mind about the matter. I say that anyone is welcome to comment on it, but if they are to flame I will give it back three fold, because I don’t believe I should be insulted and ridiculed for my lack of belief when I don’t act like that toward anyone who does believe. It’s called respect.

But then I have to read things like the horrendous comment that was posted on here previously, and I’m told I shouldn’t dare give it back threefold… when all I did was agree that I don’t want religion thrown in my face or shoved into my child’s mind… yes through the use of a an adult humored metaphor that was meant to be funny for those who have the stomach for such humor… but nonetheless it was harmless. It’s not like I’m waving a flag all over town with that metaphor emblazoned upon it and taking it into schools for young minds to be swayed by it. It’s facebook, there are no children added to my friends, so there are no little minds to be hurt by the words in the picture above.

And so with all that said, I must now ask… Why is it that it’s perfectly alright for religious people to wave their beliefs in my face, and every single believer acts like they are the only ones who have the right to speak their minds… But when I speak my mind in any way at all, there is always someone, anyone who believes yet knows that I do not, who must speak of how wretched I am for not believing, and how shameful it is to agree with a simple metaphor that is meant only for adults and has harmed no one… I’m the one who is wrong, I’m the one to blame, I’m the one with a warped perception… And apparently all nonbelievers have no right to free speech and the freedom of expression, this is how almost all religious people act toward non religious people.

And on my own facebook profile I’m told I don’t dare say anything back!

I don’t believe in prayer… Yet many of my friends are always posting things in their status that say, pray for so n so, if you believe in god pass this on, etc… etc… you get the idea. I see these things and I simply go about my business. I don’t say nasty things to them because I think they believe in something ridiculous. I think to myself, well, so n so will get better with the proper medical attention, because I have faith in science and medicine… not prayer. But I don’t waste my time telling them these things and telling them I am disgusted with what they believe in, because everyone is free to believe or disbelieve in whatever they choose.

But as a nonbeliever, the moment I post in my status anything that has to do with supporting my lack of belief, I am attacked, and what’s worse is that I’m attacked by family. And I’m supposed to be swayed into thinking that they are right and I am wrong and there is no grey area and if I say anything in my defense there will be some reason to fear you? Well that certainly makes me feel like I’m free to express myself. That certainly makes me want to rush into a church and beg forgiveness from this amazingly “loving” god that you believe in, this unconditionally loving god who will only love those who worship him daily and beg his forgiveness, and without his forgiveness would have me burning in a pit of fire for all eternity.

What I find appalling is that many believers think that non believers are ignorant of what the bible teaches… That’s usually not the case. for instance I can tell you that the bible states that the devil is the best deceiver, and his greatest trick is to convince the world he doesn’t exist… or that he exists as something he is not…

(Now I’m going to do something called speculation…)

Perhaps the devil exists in the form of this selfish and insecure god who must have us all singing his praises day in and day out in order to earn his affection… This god who lets fathers rape their daughters, this god who lets mothers sit by cowardly knowing the pain and torture their husbands bring upon their children and yet do nothing about it.. Or vice versa. This god who lets us all fight and die in his name!

While the real truth could possibly be that if there really is a good and loving god, he just sits quietly in our hearts, waiting for us to know him by two simple names, Love and Peace, and that within our hearts is indeed the only place where these metaphorical gods and devils live, and the only heaven and hell that exist are those which we create for ourselves in this life!

So this is it. This is who I am. I don’t believe in god, nor will I teach my daughter to believe in god. I will teach her about what others believe god to be, and that she should question everything before she puts her faith in it, and I will allow her to choose her own faith or lack thereof, and I will still shower her with love even if I strongly disagree with whatever she chooses to believe in and I wont ever make her feel like I hate her for what she values in this life. Now does that make me a bad person? I certainly hope not…

Here is what I do believe in.

I believe in my own willpower. I believe in the goodness and willpower within the heart of every human being. I do not believe that I have to have a Bible or a preacher tell me that I have to be afraid of eternal hell and damnation in order for me to want to be a good person. I have taken strangers into my home so they would have a place to stay. I have taken people I knew to be liars and thieves into my home so they would not be on the streets. When I barely had enough money to feed myself, I have given to friends who needed it more than me. I have taken food out of my fridge to feed a neighbor’s child.

Now I’ve done my fair share of bad deeds too, and I’ve suffered for them, and learned from them. I’ve received good things in return for the good I’ve done as well. This is called Karma. This is the rule of the world that guides my life. As I’ve grown older and become a mother, karma has taken on a more serious role in my life. I live every moment of my life ruled by karma. There are very few things I can’t or wont forgive for reasons I feel are justified even if I know they aren’t entirely right. But those are decisions I can live with.

All in all, I try to make the best out of every situation. I strive to be a good person because that’s just who I am inside and that is who I wish to continue to be and I try with all my heart and soul to improve upon my own self worth by being the best Mom, Wife, Friend, and even worker, that I can be. I never claim to be perfect, I know I’m flawed, I can be selfish, I can be hateful, I can be lazy. I also understand that this is human nature and no amount of religious doctrine can change this. Without religion to guide me, I forgive, I make amends, I move on with my life and I struggle to do better, right along side all the rest of humanity.

Never during my journey in this life, do I ever, EVER say things to people about their faith that are intended to be cruel or hateful. Because I believe in Karma. Because I believe in intelligence, because I believe that some things are better left unsaid no matter how strongly I feel about it, and no matter my reasons for feeling that way. And because I genuinely have no desire to make others feel ashamed of what they believe in.

I only wish to express the simple fact that I don’t believe in god, and why. If feelings get hurt in the process, I feel it is only because someone took it personally when it wasn’t meant to be so. But I don’t hate others for what they believe, nor do I intend to make anyone feel that I do. Yet over and over I am ridiculed, insulted, even made out to be a devil worshiper! Just for voicing my opinion? Do I not give you the liberty to express yourself without such action aimed toward you? Why yes, yes I do give everyone that liberty.

So tell me what is so great about your faith? I’ve been there before, even singing in the choir! Never did my life get better until I stopped believing in God and started believing in my own ability to take control of my life and started making efforts to make it better.

So here’s my final word on the matter, again, this is who I am. If you can’t understand, that’s fine, I forgive you for that. If you wish to stop being a part of my life, I can even understand that. But don’t you dare presume that you are better than me simply because of your faith. Countless wars have been waged in the name of religion, millions have died by the name of some god. Even now you attack those who live peaceful lives without your god, maybe not with swords and guns, but your words cut just as deeply and hurt more than you will ever choose to understand.

So don’t insult me and attack me with your words and tell me I don’t dare give it back to you. What gives you the right? I didn’t attack you, I simply spoke my mind. If that’s the kind of intolerance you live your life by then I pity you, and I suggest you take a serious evaluation of your faith and what kind of person you have portrayed yourself as because of it.

Before any of you reply to this, I hope you have a solid understanding of everything I have said and don’t read anything into it that isn’t there. This is not for feeble minds, this is not for people who refuse to see another persons point of view. So if that’s you, then just stay out of the conversation. I want no part of your intolerance, and I’ll take whatever Karma deals to me as a result of saying so.

Now I realize that I’m opening myself up to a great deal of hateful and close-minded comments on this topic, because people will post them despite what I just said, but I’m willing to accept that if it opens the minds and hearts of at least one or two people in this world…

I’ve been working my ass off at the infamous hell hole I call a job. Always working, always struggling, and barely getting by. I’ve been making changes, unfortunately it will be a while before I get to see any results. Oh well, everything worth having is worth waiting for, or so they say.

*Stomps foot* – Dammit I want it now!

Well, now wont come soon enough, but I have plans to get my degree in editing through Stratford Career Insitute next Spring. So wish me luck. I only wish my writing were as extraordinary as that of a beloved Courtney I know. Her way with words is unmatched. Her descriptions of life and all the little things therein, and the way in which she spell binds me with her inspirational words of wisdom, leave me feeling a bit jealous despite how much I love reading practically every little thing she writes. Thus I’ll aspire to be like her while I aim for my goal of editorial greatness.

“Don’t tell me the sky is the limit when there are footsteps on the moon.”

I can’t say I’m not addicted to other games… but I do hate Farmville with a passion. I only played it for about ten minutes just for the hell of it. It didn’t really start off all that bad though, until I visited the farm of someone who apparently has even more time on their hands than I do… It was massive. Terrifying. Beyond belief. Intimidating to say the least. Down right horrific. At that moment it was clear that this game would evolve into a full time job that I wasn’t going to get paid for. I thought to myself, I couldn’t possibly keep up with something like this, not without getting something out of it.

What’s this worth, a few pixel pets to impress my farm visitors? Impress them with what, my loud and proud declaration that I’m the kind of person who doesn’t have any real life friends because they’re all online? No thank you, I do have real life friends and I would much rather spend my time with them, even if it’s chatting online, than to waste my time playing a game that doesn’t really keep people all that connected; rather it keeps them zombified in a make believe world that they truly want to stay in, and it’s pathetic. I can understand how it would be a good game for kids to play to learn about keeping up with daily chores and how to invest money wisely to gain more money, in that aspect it can be highly educational, if it’s looked at from the idea that it is homework, a school project, and certainly anything but a game for entertainment purposes. But for adults to sit there and use their precious free time to play a game that is basically work without getting the real life pay and benefits, it just seems pointless and beyond all sense and again, pathetic.

If you’re going to waste a lot of time playing a game, at least play a game that is fun, something that actually requires that you use your brain… like an MMORPG… or even a puzzle. You know, they are doing amazing things to make the Rubik’s Cube modern and more entertaining… And UNO is a classic family game with real, face to face, human interaction.

Things with screens and monitors aren’t the only forms of entertainment out there folks. Stand up, stretch, go outside, go for a walk, crochet, play tennis, throw a baseball with your kid, shoot some hoops, hop on a bike, go skating, go swimming, how about that picnic you’ve been promising the kids? Snap out of the hermit lifestyle and reconnect face to face with the people you love. Farmville isn’t the only thing that’s keeping people cooped up inside their homes, it’s just my target of choice since I hate it so much, but the theme is still the same…

GO OUTSIDE!

If only it were that easy. You’ve got to get your hands dirty first, but if you do it right it’ll fix the hole that was made when the shit was thrown at you.

What is this filthy metaphor for? It’s not really FOR anything. It’s just a way of saying ‘When life really blows, blow back.’

Some of us cry, some scream, some find solitude and just sit quietly in the dark. Others confront their problems immediately, and those are the people I applaud. Who among us really has the time to sit through the drama, wade through the bullshit, and pray that we come out smelling like daffodils? No one. Well maybe you do, but I don’t. I hate sitting around waiting for the pain, stress, drama, depression and who knows what else, to go away. I have to do something about it. When nothing works, at least I can say I tried.

I find myself in one of those situations now. Family… oh the in-laws. How I struggle to maintain a healthy, loving relationship with my in-laws. Unfortunately, most of my in-laws are the kind that NOBODY really wants. The kind that always leach off of people, and ask people for favors all the time, and always want something without giving anything back. Oh, but they do give something back – heart ache.

For as much as I try to love them, I cannot do it anymore. I’ve been stabbed in the back too many times and it’s time that I finally realize that I don’t need these attachments in my life. Even my husband is tired of his family. When you’ve taken all you can take, you have to cut ties and save yourself the agony. Yes, it’s painful, but in some cases it simply has to be done. So lets work up our nerve and say what we have to say, make peace within ourselves knowing that we’ve done all we could do to salvage those relationships. Why beat a dead horse, right?

Read article: Toyota recalls wont totally fix sudden surges

(FYI: FUBAR=F*cked Up Beyond All Recognition – just in case you’ve never heard.)

I am drunk.

It’s 2:45am. I have no idea how it is possible that I am currently seeing straight and, for the most part, thinking straight, but I am.  I’ve been drinking 1 shot of whiskey to 2 shots of Coca Cola for the last four, almost five hours. I almost fell down earlier when I got out of my comfortable computer chair to go to the bathroom, but managed to catch myself. While I’m still drinking consistently and mixing my drink a little stronger with each glass, I’m still fairly sober, and my mind is wandering into my college days.

I’ve varied from being a bubbly, goofy, hilarious drunk, to being sarcastic and somewhat comedic, to being serious and thoughtful and reminiscent. I actually think myself lucky… I know so many people who, when drunk are forgetful and uncoordinated and have horrible hangovers… in fact that describes pretty much all the people I know when they are drunk.

I myself however, even after a dozen or so shots of imported Canadian whiskey mixed with Coca Cola, am still functional enough to type coherently and have an intelligent conversation with friends on Skype. Standing up however… well… lets just say that’s another matter altogether.

Now before I continue, I must give a shout out to my dear friend from a MMORPG called Perfect World. Hi Siah. Thank you for your comment. It was inspirational, and it warmed my heart to know that my blog is being enjoyed. I checked my email tonight during my drunken stupor and saw that there was a comment on my blog. So I logged in to my account and to see just whom the comment was from, and it warmed my heart to see a familiar name along with an endearing comment.

To be completely honest though… I have no idea what I had intended to write when I first started writing this particular blog post… I know there was something… some moral, or goal, or some sort of substantial literary masterpiece. However at this moment, my mind is in a swirl of dizziness, I feel the warmth of the alcohol coursing through my veins, and I manage to keep typing, knowing that I should be carefully maneuvering my way to my sleeping quarters. Oh wait, we don’t use that kind of English anymore, nowadays we say ‘bedroom’. Alas…

So I shall go… leaving this immense story untold, in hopes that I will remember tomorrow…

Good night Siah. Goodnight world. I hope the moon smiles upon you tonight and grants you all the sweetest of dreams. I shall now stumble my way to my bed, snuggle against the warmth of my husband… and for the first time in months, I shall close my eyes and fall into sleep before 5:00 Am.

Hallelujah.