A Revelation

One day, while in front of the TV
watching the news
I had a revelation.

A plane had crashed somewhere
far away, four people dead,
I spoke out loud.

Isn't it crazy how people die everyday,
but if doesn't affect you or your life
you don't think much of it?

That somewhere someone is hurting,
because that woman was her mother
or that boy was his son.

But it didn't affect me,
so I didn't think much of it.
And I went on with my life.

One day, after hearing the news,
while in the weight room working out,
I had a revelation.

Two cars had crashed somewhere
close, one person dead.
I did not speak.

Isn't it crazy that people die everyday
but if it doesn't affect you or your life,
you don't think much of it.

But there, in the weight room
I was hurting, because I had known this man.
He was my neighbor.

No one else paused to look
at the crash on the monitor,
no one else cared.

No one else thought of the wife at home
who no longer had a husband
or the two kids who no longer had a father.

But I did. It affected me.
So I thought, and I cried.
And then I went on with my life.

Isn't it sometimes sickening how comfortable we get with death? Because it happens everyday and everywhere. It's not that death is something to be feared... it's just that the hundreds of people who died on 9-11 were honored and their country will remember them every year on that day. But what about the woman who died in the motor accident two nights ago? Only the son she left behind will remember her on the anniversary of her death. It's so subjective. Death is subjective. But no matter what you feel or how it affects you, life still goes on whether you believe it will or not. That's the only way we survive.

Nicholas Sparks Wanna Be

Last night I went to "Dear John," a movie based on Nicholas Spark's best seller. Although the movie was not exactly what I expected, I am sure the book is some marvelous stuff. Sparks has another novel, "The Last Song," coming out on film here soon as well. What a stud! I wish I could write not only best selling books, but books good enough to be made into films. Sparks is my idol!

Funny little story though...

One night I was feeling really down for one reason or another and of course started questioning everything in my life including my writing. Somehow I ended up on my computer reading Sparks' biography and about the many books he's published. I was jealous. But I did find out that we are similar people. Look... here are all the ways that we are alike.

1. We both went to college for a Business-related field but both wish to write.
2. We are both Irish, English, German, and Czech.
3. He was born not that far from here in Omaha, Nebraska.
4. He was in track in college just like me.
5. He's a middle child, just like me.
6. He was raised Catholic just like I was.

Just gives me a little bit of hope that maybe I ALSO could be a good writer. And my goals are now to publish a book and have at least one made into a movie just like Nicholas Sparks...

Well... that and to make Oprah's bookclub! :) Wish me luck...

Does It Mean Anything?

Lately I've been pondering a question.

Does it mean anything to say, "Wish I could help" or "I am sorry" when someone is having a bad day, when you really had no intention of trying to help or trying to make that person's day better? Sounds funny, but really. Shouldn't you only say "Wish I could help" if you've exhausted every possible way to help that person, only to find that you really are out of options? Or shouldn't you only say "I am sorry" when you are truly are sorry, because there is absolutely nothing you can do to help.

I understand that sometimes a person doesn't necessarily want help or need sympathy, but that sometimes a person just wants someone to recognize that they are hurting, that they are not themselves. I understand this, because sometimes I feel this way.

But most of the time, we could help, we could sympathize. We just choose not to, because we would have to rearrange our schedule, or it would inconvenience our day. I just think more times than none we should choose to be sincere and choose to exhaust all options.

I envy those who do so.

The Claddagh Ring

Many girls these days are wearing Claddagh rings, and whether they know it or not, the Claddagh ring is actually a Celtic wedding ring. But the story behind it is what I love the most. So, I just thought I'd enlighten those who have never heard the story with this romantic tale.

The Story of the Claddagh Ring

Five centuries ago, just outside of the city of Galway, in the village of Claddagh, a youngman was fishing at sea with the other men in his family. The sea presented many dangers, but the greatest risk was the pirates that manned the waters. On one such day, a group of pirates captured the men from Claddagh and took them to the far off North Coast of Africa. It was there that they were sold into slavery for what they were sure would be the best rest of their lives.

Richard, the youngest of those captured, was most distraught because days before they were captured, he had met his true love and now feared that he would not live to see her again.

Years passed. Several of the men died. Others accepted their fate. Richard worked as a slave, but still longed to be back in Claddagh with his beloved. To keep this hope in his heart, each day Richard stole a tiny speck of gold from his slave master and soon had enough gold to create a ring. It was his hope, that when he returned to his village one day, he could present the ring to his true love.

Somehow, Richard was able to escape his captivity and finally made the long journey home. He was pleased to learn that his true love had remained unmarried and was still awaiting his return. It was on that day that Richard gave his one true love the ring he created which is now today known worldwide as the Claddagh Ring.

The design of the ring is very unique. The heart symbolizes the love Richard longed to share with his true love; the crown, his undying loyalty; and the hands, friendship which is the foundation for all relationships.

There is even a guide to how the ring should be worn. If it is worn on the right hand with the heart pointing it out, it mean's the wearer's heart is uncommitted. If it is worn on the same hand with the heart pointing in, the wearer's heart is taken. But if by chance it is worn on the left hand with the heart pointing in towards the wearer's own heart, it actually means, "Let love and friendship reign forever, never to be separated." In this case, the wearer is mostly likely engaged or married.

I think the tale of the Claddagh ring and its signficance is really an amazing story! Of course, I'm also Irish so I believe in its reality, but the beauty of love that is shown by Richard and his beloved's undying faith is truely magical, which is probably why the ring is so popular these days. I am sure every girl's wish is to find a love that can last a million years and across a thousand seas, a most loyal love that is strung together by friendship. At least that is what I wish for...

Job Wanted!

Applying for jobs is mentally exhausting! I hate trying to sell myself through qualifications and experience, because as of right now, I have none! And please tell me how am I supposed to get experience if I can't get hired. And having experience is required for like 99% of all jobs, so I haven't yet applied for anything! It's just so frustrating! Not to mention, these days, a four-year degree has become so common, it means practically nothing! What in the hell did I pay $33,000 a year for?

Plus, the reality is I really don't want to work anyway, so it is becoming really hard to find any job postings that sound even relatively fun... I know, I know, your first job doesn't have to be the job of your dreams, it just has to pay the bills. I get that, but I at least want to get out of bed each morning knowing I have a purpose. That's not asking way too much is it?

People keep telling me, "You're a great girl with some awesome abilities. You'll get hired. People would be crazy not to hire you!"

But what if I seriously can't find a job? That's scary... I don't want to live at home. No offense parentals.

Six Lives Saved

Today I saved six lives.

And no I didn't rescue anyone from a burning building or prevent anyone from drowning or steer an out of control school bus of children to safety.

Instead, I gave blood.

Today I gave a double red cell donation, in which the blood center is able to collect twice as many red blood cells from my blood as a regular whole blood donation. And since for every pint of blood you give, you could ultimately save three lives, today I did double duty.

The double red cell donation is actually kind of a interesting procedure, because the patient can get extremely cold during the donation. See... your body is approximately 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit and therefore, your blood is also. But when they remove it from your body it gets closer to room temperature which is somewhere around 72 degrees Fahrenheit. During this process, a machine separates your red blood cells from your plasma, and then they return your plasma to your bloodstream. So because the plasma is way cooler than it was when it exited your veins, you feel a really weird, cool sensation when it is returned. And they do all this twice. So nevertheless, I froze today why I gave blood! They had me wrapped up in two blankets, and I was still a shivering fool! And it's a weird feeling, because it feels like you are being chilled from the inside out, instead of the outside in. Almost as if the blood in your veins is freezing over like water in a stream.

So while I wasn't overly courageous or gallant today, I still spent one very cold and uncomfortable hour lying on my back with a needle stuck in my arm. That's more than most people do! For in fact, only around 38% of Americans are even eligible to give blood, and less than 10% actually give blood on a regular basis. Shocking, huh?

And being totally honest, giving blood really didn't bother me at all. Yes my arm is a little tender where the needle went in, but it was a small price to pay, considering six lives were on the line.

And if there ever comes a time when I am need of blood, I will be glad that there are good people out there willing to give.

Dreaming...

Lately, I've been dreaming about ex-boyfriends... Yes... I know the dreaded Exes...

And I'm not just talking about one ex-boyfriend in one random dream on one weird night, I'm talking about multiple exes in multiple dreams occurring on multiple nights. I mean at one point I got married (Yes married!) to my current beau, while many dreamy nano seconds later, the guy turned into one of my exes, and then another ex popped into the dream to have a conversation with my husband and me at the beach on our honeymoon...

And then of course, the next night I dreamt about a completely different set of exes in a completely different setting (which I thank God for, because I would have felt like a complete tramp hanging with another guy/guys the night after my wedding day).

But I mean it's not like I am getting down and dirty and intimate with every boy in every dream I have, it's just awkward, because it brings to the surface feelings I thought I'd locked away. Trust me, I have no intention of calling any of these old boyfriends up any time soon, but it just makes me wonder what sparks these dreams about people I haven't talked to in forever?? It just complicates my brain with unwanted clutter and drama.

And I am not trying to say that all my exes are complete scoundrels or a complete waste of my dream space either, I just feel like there are only two guys who should occupy my dreams right now: my current leading man and of course, my daddy...

But seriously...This is all so creepy and weird, and I don't enjoy it one bit!

I mean, you should have seen my wedding dress! It was completely hideous, and I about cried when I saw my wedding cake! Disaster... :)