Goethe's Rosebud

Oh, gentle rosebud,
Womankind was not made to suffer forever.
You, rosebud, must not allow
Any such knave to break you.
A fight is to be put up.
Yes, thorns and blood shall fly,
But you will satiate your daughters with your deeds.

No. 7: Trying

A few weeks ago, my boyfriend found something out about me. I won't say what, but it was something that I'm ashamed of and will forever regret. I wasn't careful, but if I had been, I wouldn't have done anything in the first place. However, I didn't care when I did it. I have no excuses. I could say that I wasn't happy, that we had so many problems, but these aren't excuses. They are just words that I try to justify my actions with.

I have hurt my boyfriend so badly. I just want to take it all back and heal him, make him forget. But I can't and I don't know what to do. I am such a bad person that I cannot live with myself. I can't be alone with my terrible thoughts for fear that I will do something I will again regret.

I am so lost in my life. I seek the direction that I so desperately need. I have no resources to make things right, not only with him, but within my own life. I am trying to become a better person for him. I'm making myself into a person in which he can find comfort, love, intelligence and plans for a future again. I am now a person that will be beside him when he needs me, to take care of him, to listen and to lend a shoulder to cry on. I know we can be in a relationship again. I will show him that I have the will to be a better person. Maybe he will see my efforts and want me again.

I want him to be with me because we love each other, but it seems that I've already lost his love forever. I have realized through this experience that he loves me more than anything, not that he was losing interest as I previously thought. I only wish that I had remembered that sooner. I can only hope that I find some direction in my life and our relationship, fast.

No. 6: The Bus

Since I have no car, and now that my darling boyfriend has totaled his car and can no longer drive my royal ass around, I have taken to riding the bus. I don't mind so much, and it saves me money in the long run. So I take the bus to and from my boyfriend's, to and from the store, and to and from work.

Today, on my way home from work, a middle-aged lady got on the bus. The reason I noticed her so starkly in my mind was because she had a giant purple birthmark that covered 95% of her face. When she first got on the bus, I thought that she was just a crazed Lakers fan of some sort. Then my eyes adjusted and I saw that it was her face and not face paint. Besides her birthmark, I noticed that she had a crocheted purse and water bottle holder. I, being the grandma that I am, immediately commented on what a beautiful purse she had and asked if she had made it. She said she did make it. She had been crocheting for 27 years. I was not surprised, because I can see myself still making scarves and hats for years to come. She said that she started off making slippers. Why slippers, you ask? She told me: Because in the book of John, at the last supper, Jesus washed all his disciples feet. She never really understood what Jesus was trying to prove by this. So she thought about it and it came to her: You should be humble enough to do even the lowest of chores, no matter what your status. Then she asked God what she could do instead of washing everyone's feet. God gave her the divine idea that she should make these slippers and give them to everyone that she met. I was amazed at this woman's love of God and how much He had helped her find Him.

I, too, am grateful to God because of how much He has helped me recently. It has taken me a while, but I see what happens when I pray and when I put my trust in Him. This woman was as a prophet of God to me. I'm not trying to convert anyone; I'm simply trying to help others open their eyes to little things that happen during the day and how God may have given his help when you needed it. The bus has opened my eyes to these people who I would never look at twice, much less talk to. It makes me feel good to communicate with others to get a different perspective on life. Most people would travel to get this sort of experience; I have found it in my daily life.

Thank you, kind woman, for expanding my horizons.

No. 5: Steve AKA Stevie Poo, Sexy Pants, Daddy

Although we've had our problems, one thing is for sure: I love him. He's my everything. We care for each other as most others haven't and won't. I hope he knows that I will always be here for him, whether we are together or not. Don't forget about me, babe. You're the best, forever.

No. 4: Suicide's Note

I feel alone...
All alone.

No. 3: In the Hot Seat

I'll show you a hot... shut up. I said shut up. YAY! The fact that everyone is posting on my blog is indicative (wow, big word!!) of the fact that everyone is READING my posts. Yay. Now that Wolfy-Poo has joined the party, I am now in fear of writing any longer. So, my humble request is that all of you not kill me if I misspell words or have grammatical errors. Also, no philosophical mumbo-jumbo, because I, being the humbly ignorant WOMAN I am, do not fully comprehend the ideas and theories that you guys put forth. If you MUST argue, do it in such a manner that even I can understand. Thanks.

No. 2: Language

My passion is language. Both native and foreign tongues intrigue me because it opens up doors to other cultures, both within and without my own language. German is my language of choice. Although it was not the first language I learned, it was definately the best. I was forced through French in Kindergarten (that means 'child's garden'; look at me I'm a little translator), I enjoyed doing the Macarena during Spanish in elementary school, and I suffered through boring written translations of Latin in middle school. High school came along and I did what every other child in my family did: take German. I had to take a language anyway (or did I?), so I decided German would be something new and exciting. And it was! I was awesome at it. I played little games in my mind, trying to find the German root of English words. I told people how easy German was, and I would torture them by making them try to figure out what 'handschue' were. Come on, guess. I have since strayed from my adopted mother tongue by taking French in college. BIG mistake. I've never been so miserable in my life. I could sing 'Frere Jacque', but I had no clue how what was being said. 'Fruit' was pronounced 'fruee' or 'fuee', I forget. A good white wine ('un bon vin blanc') was pronounced 'uh buh vah blanh'. Dear God, what does it all mean??? I didn't know. So I left that abusive cow of a language and have returned to my second mother, repenting over and over. I will never, I repeat, NEVER take French again. If I do, cut out my tongue because I have again wronged my mater secunda (us? um? atis? Damn Latin.). German is forever my love and I have focused my life on going to school, becoming fluent and passing on my knowledge to young, unsuspecting children. But don't feel bad, it'll be good for them.