Don't be... FRIGHTENED!
So, today I woke up to a fine breezy morning.
And then remembered that it was Halloween.
Bring on the spooks.
I know that a lot of you guys are all into the scary ghosts and goblins and the like. And I also know that a lot of you are disgusted by the sight of your own papercut, and decide not to partake in the "festivities" (if they can even be called something that happy) of Halloween.
Either way, I'm not judging you. Believe me, I'm really not.
Halloween has been sort of a weird holiday for me personally. Growing up, my parents didn't really aknowledge all the trick or treating like most families. They didn't see many good reasons for letting their children dress up, roam the neighborhood late at night with houses decked out in bloody galore, and have them come home with enough candy to both give them a mouthful of cavities and a heart attack. It just seemed..kind of pointless. Not to mention the fact that at a very young age, children all over the country are being exposed to supernatural fascination that the holiday glorifies. So yeah, I never really trick or treated until about seventh grade, and even then I only went around to a few houses in my neighborhood dressed up in a bathrobe and slippers, telling people I was a spa client. No biggie.
Actually, I'm really not complaining about my lack of participation in Halloween. I totally respect the choice my parent's made in deciding not to have us immersed in that. And now that I'm a bit older, I understand.
Halloween is an extremely dark holiday to me. I took time to investigate the origins of this holiday, and found out some interesting things.
The early Celtics started this huge shindig as a sort of "end of summer" celebration, and a chance to get real with some ghosts. The fine line between this world and what was percieved as "the other world" became very opaque to them, allowing spirits of both good and bad to pass through. Yeah, kind of freaky. And they would dress up in scary costumes so that the "bad spirits" would fly away instead of bothering them. And all of this "trick or treat" madness?
Children in medival times would go around from door to door on Halloween and yell trick or treat, a playful threat that if the owner didn't give them a goody, then they would play a mean prank on them.. or something.
Okay, not that scary, right? So what- people dressed up to scare some spirits away. Big deal.
Actually, it is a big deal. Over the years, Halloween has evolved into a bloody horror central for people to brood over whether or not they believe in ghosts. People that do become obsessed with nasty movies about ghosts and possesion of their spirits and blah blah blah.
The problem is, they're not that far from the truth. They've almost got it right.
My belief is in demons and angels. They are absolutely real, and there is a supernatural battle taking place between the two that we are blind to. Demons do try to mess with people. They do terrorize some. And they posses very few, but some nonetheless. The only problem with not giving demons the credit for all of this foul play is that "ghosts" are seen as both good and bad. Bleh. Not my cup of tea.
I'm not trying to scare you away from celebrating Halloween, not in the least. In fact, I'm off to go get my pirate costume ready for a church event tonight. I'm just cautioning you- please do not get too carried away with the oo's and ah's of wicked stuff that Halloween tends to conjure up. It's not to be messed with.
Instead of focusing on crazed killers and creepy spirits, focus on thanking Jesus for bringing light in dark places, and turning a sad and dark life into a new, hopeful one in Him.
Boo.
Jambalaya post.
Since I can't really think of one topic to post on, I'm just going to post about whatever is on my mind at the moment. Which isn't necessarily a lot because it's 10:30pm and my brain is DEAD. Hence the jambalaya name. I've never had jambalaya.
For one, I'd like to give a little shout out to some dear friends. Well, actually I lied. These people are not really "friends", per say, but they obviously care enough to talk about me a whole lot.
Which is not a good thing, in this case.
But anyways, I'd like to tell them that I'm kind of sorry for them. I'm sorry that they feel the need to cuss out/put down someone who they have never taken the time to talk to for five minutes. That somehow it gives them some kind of pleasure to judge other people behind their backs. It's sad that you won't get to know a person before making really rude and nasty remarks about them, but it's their loss. So, I'm sorry for you guys. It doesn't bother me, but I hope that you don't keep on doing this, because somebody down the line is gonna respond by handing out a few shiners. I'm not even really offended, I'm more concerned for you. :) WWJD, yeh?
Another thing on my mind: the fun times I have interpretive dancing with my friend out on the grassy field. It makes for good memories.
And, I would write tons more, but it's almost 11:00. And I'm seriously ADD. Not a productive combo.
Night.
P.S.
Basically, Stephen ruined this post. My BSF, you have let me down.
STOP DISTRACTING ME. YOU'RE THE REASON FOR THIS JAMBALAYANESS.
& I love Ruthie! My lovely mind-texting buddy. :)
Not a very happy camper. :(
Okay, sorry for not blogging.
It's a bad habit of mine.
There are some super duper rude cashiers in this world. Whether you're just trying to save some cash, or wanting your tall Strawberries & Cream Frapp, it seems that the workers are not very pleased to assist you in your endeavor. First rude cashier: Mr. Grumpy Grocer.
So here my mom and I are, patiently waiting in line to get some school supplies, food, vitamins, etc. We get up to the checkout and my mom hands this over-60-year-old worker her coupons. He obviously isn't too happy that we're gonna save 60 cents on our vitamins, because he grumbles as he takes the little money savers. Then, he looks at one of the coupons' edges and grumbles, "This one's missing numbers. It most likely wont be able to scan." The very edge of said coupon was torn off when it was seperated from another coupon, resulting in the last number (or line) of the barcode being torn off. Well my mom replies, "Um, the other piece is right there on the other coupon."
"No, it's not."
"Yes sir, it is."
(Bagger lady says) "Yeah, it's right there."
"Mmmhphhhgrrald."
As Mr. Grumpy Grocer picks up the other coupon and matches the corner up with the torn one, he lets out this huge dramatic sigh. As if it pains him so to just give us our discount. He then scans the barcode, who is now complete, happy, and serving it's purpose.
"Well, you got lucky." He mumbles with an ugly tone.
Complete with much eye-rolling from Mr. Grumpy Grocer, we collected our goods and walked out- saving a few bucks on our trip.
Maybe he just had a bad day or something.
My second encounter with a rude cashier was at a well known coffee chain (no names, right?). I'm in the car with my family coming back from a very fun trip, and we pull up through a drive-thru at said coffee chain. The 19-year-old lady slides open the window and has a confused look on her face.
"Did you order?"
(My dad) "Oh, I guess we missed the ordering intercom. Can we order here?"
"I...guess."
"Okay so we want..."
My dad orders a coffee for himself, a couple Frapps for my mom and brother, and orders me a Strawberries & Cream Frapp. The lil' teeny bopper goes off to make us our yummy drinks with a not-so-great attitude, but we're handed our purchases nonetheless. So I take a sip of my drink, expecting a burst of heaven on earth, but instead it tastes like one teeny tiny strawberry drowned in a gush of watery milk.
Yeah, gross.
Not wanting to be rude or ungrateful, I kind of hesitated to tell my dad that the drink tasted horrible, but I decided that I couldn't- wouldn't- be able to drink that the whole way home. So I told my dad that it tasted funny, and he agreed. When the brewster chick popped her head out of the window to give us our reciept, dearest father tells her that the drink is awful. She just gives him a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look.
"Well when was the last time you came here?'
"My daughter and I JUST came and got this same drink not but two nights ago."
"Mm, the recipies change a lot. Some people just aren't used to the new ones."
"Taste this. It's disgusting, I don't think that's a recipe change."
(After much sighing and glaring, the girl grabs the drink and closes the window.)
So she comes back with a new drink, a stone-cold and silent expression, and holds it out for my dad.
Oh, you guys I can't even explain how rude it was. Too much attitude for the typed word.
My dad then thanked her, and explained that the first drink really was a malfunction or something, and that it wasn't just his tastebuds rebelling against some new recipe. And, she insisted that the recipes change often, and that maybe someone had skipped a step.
"Sorry for troubling you like that. :)"
"Yeah, has everyone got their drink?"
"Mhm, we're all good. Have a nice day."
"Mm. You guys too."
In the end, we drove off with a new Strawberries & Cream that was (ironically) incredibly sweet.
Yeah, I didn't really write this blog to complain a whole bunch, I just think that even if you're having the worst day of your life, you shouldn't take it out on your customer- no buts.
Children, when you get jobs, do NOT be rude to the person who is pretty much filling your paycheck.
I'm just saying.
A Lioness Den.
Have you guys ever watched America's Next Top Model?
If you haven't, it's not that hard to figure out what it's about based on the shows name. Basically Tyra Banks takes a bunch of aspiring young girls and puts them through a series of challenges related to modeling and fashion.
All the while, these girls are rooming together in one very tripped-out mansion. And you can only imagine how this all works out for them. If the contestants aren't fixing their appearance, they're going at each other in a whirl of money, drama, and hairspray. These girls will seriously fight about EVERYTHING. It's both funny and sad at the same time. I mean, girls have drama. Whatever. But then add some conceit and vanity and pettiness and voila! You've got America's Next Top Model.
Needless to say, I'm a sucker for this show. I've always been sort of interested in modeling, but the worldly pressures and messed up views have kept me away from all of that. But it's fun to watch anyway.
Feel the amor.
Seeing as this is the very first post of my fresh, new blog.. I think I should post about something that explains the title a little bit. You know me. If you don't, then you have the right to know that I am an extremely tall individual. And also, that I like eating cheese in a can with everything, but that's another story. In life, if you are either really tall or really short, you WILL hear about it every single day of your life. For example, imagine you are 6'0 (ahem..) and you are walking into the grocery store to buy some tomatoes (or any other yummy vegetable). Imagine yourself walking up to the tomato bin next to someone who is of normal height, and is also buying some tomatoes. There you are, minding your own business, when suddenly, the person next to you looks up and says, "Wow. You're really tall". Harmless comment of the obvious, right? Except for that you already know that you are tall, and don't honestly need that person's re-enforcement of that fact.
Long story to prove a simple point. Point understood?
So anyways, we went down to Mexico the other day for a short and sweet stay at a mission's center down there. Yesterday morning, we went to go pray with a family there who was quite discouraged and in need of some help. There are a few really cute Hispanic kids roaming the area around us, staring at us with their huge brown eyes and (probably) not understanding what we're saying. Seeing as we don't speak fluent Spanish, a translator isn't an bad companion to have there.
Except for when the translator can easily point out to the children- in Spanish- that you are a huge 15-year-old giant. Laughing proceeds.
Needless to say, it was all cute and fun. I've had more awkward introductions, and I didn't really mind the kids laughing at my un-controllable height. But it's just a good example of how you can hear about how tall you are 24/7, even in a different country. Haha!
In conclusiveness of my first post, I'd just like to encourage all really tall (or short) people to embrace your height. There's nothing you can do about it, so why not accept that you're beautiful (or handsome...) no matter if your height is "normal" or not. This goes for all features, really.
Over and out.
