Thoughts on Heaven and Hell

I’ve been thinking about Heaven and Hell today.  Kelsi told me this joke: All the Christians are up in Heaven partying it up until you get to the some who are sitting around silent.  God says, “Shhh, it’s the Baptists, they think they’re the only ones up here!”  I laughed at that, because lucky for the Baptists, God takes ANYONE who believes in Jesus.

Kelsi also asked, “Now that you’re Christian, you’re not going to try to turn me, are you?  Cuz that’s not cool.”  No, I don’t want to turn her.  She doesn’t want God in her life, so when she dies, she won’t have God in death.  She gets what she wants because God respects her choice.  But, what if she sort of still believes it with a tiny bit of her heart? From what I’ve read so far – and I’m not holding a book in front of me, so there won’t be any references at the moment (and feel free to correct me if I have this wrong!) – there are levels of heaven and hell, correct?  Somewhere in “I Don’t Have Enough Faith to be an Atheist,” it says that everyone will experience the afterlife differently, that our lives on earth prepare us for how we experience eternity.  I wonder how she would experience it.  Is it like the “Celestine Prophecy” suggests: constantly living out the control dramas of our lives for all eternity?  If that’s Hell, I’ll take Heaven…

In Joey’s article from almost a year ago, Riding the Wave? he talked about the sensation of surrendering to the Higher Power, whatever it may be.

I’ve chosen God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.

He’s chosen…something I don’t quite understand completely, but it works for him.  If he feels that for all eternity, I’m sure he’d be plenty pleased with it.  All I know is that surrendering to the Higher Power is an incredibly freeing and secure feeling.  Funny that this song just came on:

A Brother’s Price

A Brother’s Price

by Wen Spenser

Chapter One

Well, that first part was strange.  An alternate world where woman are in charge, and men are “sold into marriage,” because they are so rare.  Not only that, but it’s done western style.  I’m in for a ride I see.  Still, it only seems strange so far.

This chick in the ditch Jarin and Heria are going to save–totally the love interest for Jarin in the story.  I predict that now, lol.

And the evidence keeps on piling.  She is totally going to fall in love with Jerin.

A western with swords and queens and princesses.  I didn’t see that this woman would have been important.  I thought she might be a rogue something or other.  I guess this could be good for Jerin.  He may get to marry up because of it.  I was also skeptical throughout this chapter, until I got to this last bit.  It’s clear this is a fantasy story.  I’m wondering if this started as a thought experiment.  At first, I thought it was going to be feminist propaganda, but this isn’t that at all … at least, it doesn’t seem that way.  In either case, I’m going to keep reading.  So good job, Spencer!

Chapter Two

The famous, infamous Whistlers, huh?  What’s that all about?

What an interesting moment.  I couldn’t see this scene played by men.  Not really.  Clearly feminine, but not one I know all that well.  Talking about boys, but in the detached way men do, but still with an element of playfulness that is typically female.  This world is definitely interesting.  Spencer has definitely gotten me to suspend my disbelief, because I’m totally into the plot.

Yep, this is totally a fantasy … that near sex scene. Haha!  Maybe I was wrong about the “love interest” thing.  I’m not sure this world works that way.  He’s totally got these sisters’ attention though.  He’s got to get a good marriage out of this deal!

Chapter Three

Well, I guess women still tend to be paranoid.  That chase was dramatic, mostly because Ren was freaking out!  She’s not a Down with Love girl!

Something crazy is going on.  Would those women really do that to their husband?  Doesn’t seem plausible.  Maybe it is though, I don’t fully understand this world yet.

Wowza.  It’s kinda hot in here right now.

Chapter Eight

So, the reason there are no notes for chapters 4-6 is because the power went out today, I’m too lazy to write them by hand, and the book is WAY too good to take the time to jot.  Typing is so much more convenient.  If you’ve been reading along with me, you wouldn’t have wanted to stop to read this commentary.

Jerin has just made his first public appearance.  Many stares.  He’s got to marry Ren and her sisters.  That’s the only way.  Where the heck is Halley?

Chapter Nine

Nothing but dead ends, and leads going no where.  I must be missing something.  Still entertaining (even after taking a few weeks off from reading it).  I like that there are action sequences like this throughout the book.  It really keeps my interest.  I’ve never heard of grapeshot before.  Cool.  Good to know.

Chapter Ten

This book is a little wicked in places.  These princesses stealing kisses from Jerin.  Total fantasy, and something I expected out of this book.  In fact, it was the ONLY thing I expected out of this book.  There was a little woman-power propaganda thrown in to boot, but it was amusing.  This whole book is amusing.  And it’s one obstacle after another.  Trini, the hold out … but she does have a good reason.

Let’s face it.  We all know Jerin’s going to end up marrying the princesses.  The Whistlers are going to get their brother’s price (maybe even more), and be catalyst to the recovery of the stolen cannons.  The only thing that remains a mystery to me who is behind the cannon stealing and how does it tie in?

Chapter Eleven

Well, it’s good that Halley is alive, and that she approves of Jerin … but … does SHE have anything to do with the stolen cannons?  She’s close by.  Is she “undercover?”  Hrm.  Many things to consider.  Also, will this letter be enough for Queen Mother Eldest?

Chapter Twelve

Okay, so maybe this can be a (straight) man’s fantasy too.  Hah!

I KNEW things were going too well.  Keifer!  DAMN HIM!

Yeah, totally a man’s fantasy too there at the end of the chapter.  I didn’t think we’d get to the marriage this early in the story.  I guess things turned out alright, but now I’m wondering what this has to do with everything else.  This betrayal of Keifer’s has to be connected to the stolen cannons by something.  And Halley is involved in some way.  Maybe she already knows all this and is already at work against it?

Chapter Thirteen

A romance turned action, but we knew there was going to be SOME action.  Jerin escaped his kidnappers.   I think Cira is Halley.  It makes so much sense, and Spencer was basically SHOUTING it in the end of this chapter.  Kij, Keifer’s sister, was also his lover.  Joy!  Haha.  I hate to say it, but this sorta reminds me of Twilight.  Not that there are glittery vampires or anything, but the main story is a romance … the action is thrown in for kicks.  Let’s see how serious it’s going to get.

Chapter Fourteen

“‘We can start a new trend.  One wife per husband.’”  Wen Spencer, you are the master of timing.  I’m glad this joke found a nice spot–I wasn’t expecting it!

Chapter Sixteen

A nice ending.  Personally, I think Stephanie Meyer can take some notes out of this book.  It’s definitely a romantic adventure that doesn’t fail to deliver on the epic portion of the story.  So much happened there at the end, I wasn’t sure I had guessed it right.  Alas, I had and all’s well that ends well!  The role reversal was interesting.  I’m not sure it was altogether realistic, but I was totally into Spencer’s world.  I wish there were more stories to come from here, but I don’t think there will be.

Now I need to decide what to read next!

What the Hell Does Havering Mean Anyways?

This was my first Google search this morning, and (I’m happy to report) the word’s definition is: “to talk nonsense or crap.”  Which is appropriate, because we do a lot of jib-jabbering around here.  Coincidentally, “talking crap” is the main topics of this post.

The Bullshit

My time at the good ole supermarket is, blissfully, coming to a close.  PHEW!  Not going to tell how HOW I quit, for “fear” (just doing the right thing/being responsible) of incurring the wrath of a defamation lawsuit.  I will say what utter joy it has given me to know that I only have a few days left as a slave to the man.

Although, I’m getting another job–of course.  Nearly have another one.  It’s more money, hours, benefits (I’ll have health insurance for the first time since I left the service! This pleases my mother), and a pretty stationary work schedule!  If you’ve ever worked retail, then you know how hectic life gets when you never know when you’re working until a few days before.  It’s not fun.  I think I am most excited about the set schedule.  A set work schedule means I can set more than one day aside specifically for writing!  Which I’m going to do after reading for a bit.

Organisms, Or What the Fat Lady Does

I’m sitting here, it’s nye yet two-thirty in the morning (three after editing, yeesh), and I can’t help but chuckle.  Fatigued beyond belief, yet more conscious than I’ve ever found myself, and, like many a person in this day and age, what do I do?–I come here!–to share this with you.  “Lol” does not even begin to sum it up.  If I could only tell you in full what just happened.  I can’t, partially because I’m slightly bashful–but only slightly.  However, I also kinda want to keep it clean around here.  I’m just too amused with myself not to share this.

I’m sitting here, dreaming–what else is new?–and, all of a sudden, I am so filled with the emotion of the dream … I am so without control over myself that I just burst into song.  Not just any song, mind you, Olivia Newton-John’s cover of “You Made Me Love You!”

Worry not friends, I shake my head at this silliness along side you.  Buuuut, I do have a question?  Anyone else do this? (Besides Rhiannon)  This isn’t a unique occurrence for me.  I burst into song all the time.  It’s like they told us in college: the REASON there is song in musicals is the emotion has come to such a height the story has no choice but to continue thusly.  The same must be true in real life.  I guess, what I’m asking is … *Is there anybody out there..?*  (Name that tune … again, besides Rhiannon … too easy)

When Lightning Strikes

Damnit, I was trying to write a blog again.  Let me tell you, I got four paragraphs into this before I realized how HARD I was trying to write this.  I need to STOP that!  Just flow with what comes to me.  I have exciting news, and I’m going to give you guys the short–unstylized–version of the tale.  You know, because it’s honest.

So, if you live in Nashua, then you know we had a CREEPY thunderstorm (I love thunderstorms) two nights ago.  Yeah, the lightning was so close it FREAKED me out.  I wrangled Rhiannon into working on the outline.  We’d come to a point where we were just stumped over the motivations of our villain.  We were seeing all these interesting things about him…

…I’m sorry all.  I really want to continue writing this post … I want to continue writing posts PERIOD …

I just had a phone conversation with my sister, Rosie … turns out … she has cancer.  I’m not sure when I’ll be back.  It might be tomorrow … it might be a month from now.  I’m not sure how the processing is going to go for something like this in my head.  It’s … surreal.

Huh, this title is oddly fitting.  It was SUPPOSED to mean inspiration strikes … which it did … only now there’s real life …

For Crying Out Loud

Maybe I’m just as bad as my sisters.  In the past, I had no problems airing my “dirty laundry” online.  Why not?  All my friends, who only sorta knew my situation would automatically take my side, and I’d have instant support.  Who wouldn’t want to take advantage of something like that?  That was high school for a vast majority of my generation.  (How long is a generation?  Is some of my generation still in high school?  Clearly I still should be.  Not that I want to go back, no thanks.)

So here I am, seven years after high school, and I’m back to pouring my heart out to the world wide web.  I’m not sure how many people read this, as apposed to my LiveJournal days.  I don’t always link these posts, usually when they are on the more private side, but I might link this one … ‘cuz I want it read.  It amuses me to see the cycle.  I’m back where I started, changed, and an all around better person.

What I really wanted to write about was Rosie.  For those of you who don’t know her, she’s my super amazing, down to earth, “crass” (to use one of Rhiannon’s favorite British-English terms), and frank persons I know.  She’s no bullshit, but hardly ever business.  If there was ANYONE in the world who was destined to be a mother, she’s the one.  Her love is firm, but never ending, and motherhood has been her dream for as long as I’ve known her (which has been her whole life).

Last night I got a call from my lovely sister.  Rosie had an eye doctor’s appointment yesterday, and she found out she is almost completely blind in her right eye.  Let me back up a little.  Two years ago in July, Rosie gave birth to my godson, Landon.  After the pregnancy she started seeing silver fish in her right eye, and whoever (not sure if it was a doctor or a post-pregnancy nurse, she told me, but I forgot … I’m a bad brother sometimes) told her it was postpartum migraines.

Rosie has always been delicate, and I mean physically.  If you knew Rosie, you’d know how strong she is.  Always trying to rise above her limitations.  Never truly falling into the victim role she could play (although, understandably, she does have her moments).  She’s used to get in trouble for fighting at school … and I’m pretty sure she’s still in denial about being white–but that’s another topic.  I just can’t stop thinking about how awesome Rosie is, and how awful what is happening to her.

By delicate I mean, Rosie has always been small.  When she was born my mother had to put her in cabbage patch doll clothes.  She was born with a bone disease (inherited, albeit a stronger form of it, from our great-grandmother) called bradydactyly.  She still gets teased about her small fingers, but I don’t know anyone else who can give me the middle TOE!  For the longest time she was afraid of not being able to have kids, because of this, so when she had Landon … it was the best thing I could have hoped for her.  This eyesight loss seems like a cruel trade off.

Turns out, the whoever at the hospital misdiagnosed her.  If it had been postpartum migraines, she would have seen silver fish in BOTH of her eyes, coupled with, you know, an actual migraine.  Now, two years later, her retina is almost completely separated (with little hope of salvaging it) from the back of her eye.  The “worst” part about it … Rosie is pregnant again.  Even if there IS something they can do, they have to wait until AFTER she’s had the baby.

Knowing Rosie, this won’t slow her down at all, but I can’t help bawling my eyes out (definitely no pun intended).  Just the thought of her not being able to see Landon and the coming baby grow up … it’s not something I’m handling very well.  And it also makes me wonder if I can do something about it.  Just the other day Rhiannon was telling me that there is technology in development which can literally PRINT live human organs.  It’s yet another reason why what Rhiannon and I are doing HAS to be great.  There HAS to be something I can do for her.  Maybe not now, but not too far into the future either.

Never Give Up; Never Surrender

All I can do is think of the story.  My brain is in a fog from whatever bug I’ve got.  Production is slow, but I feel slammed with inspiration.  It’s strange.  I can’t not work, and I can’t work.  Yeah, you gods of the universe.  I’m done with the suffering phase.  It’s time to get on with my life.

Twitterpated

What do you do when you think you’ve heard something, but it could have been your imagination intervening with the thing you WANTED to hear?  Why doubt?  Why think about it?  Why not just ask, “Did you just say what I think you said?”  Fear, but it’s illegitimate fear.  This game is way too fun.  Whether he said what I heard, or just made it up doesn’t matter I guess … I know how I feel.  Which scares me even more.

By the way, pistachio ice cream with jimmies are the BEST!

Fah-Tea-Gay

That post title should get me some interesting traffic to the site! Haha!  I apologize now for any shenanigans–I have slept only three hours in the last 48 hours … I’m not sure how I’m still conscious.  I lean my head against the back of the chair.  The blood rushes back, clicking against the neuro-net connections–sounding like the clicking of a rain stick.

As I warned you … I’m in a weird mood, and Rhiannon just got on Vent.  We’re gonna talk guild talk.  Yeah.  I mean World of Warcraft.  Oops.  I guess that was a confession.  Screw putting in links.  I wanna play!  Even though I’m tired.  Sleep would be smart.

Okay, going for real this time!

I’ve Gotta Go Tah Work…

…but I’d so rather stay here and write.  Correction, that was a Fruedian slip, I’d so rather stay here and sleep.  I failed on that mission last night.  Not feeling too hot.  Maybe I’ll be lucky, and they will show mercy on my miserable ass.

Why am I dumb?  It was silly, the whole not sleeping thing.  I didn’t even really try.

On the plus side, I got another large chunk of the new outline done.  I’m sure after I’ve slept I can get close to completing tomorrow.  I’m not sure I’ll be any use today.  Another bright side, in addition to getting some good writing out, I also caught up on Glee–go me!