What Happens in Vegas...

Mason and I are off to Las Vegas for a few days in July. I've never been, and know nothing about it. It'll be an adventure to be sure. This will also be the first holiday I've gone on with a boyfriend. But Mason's not just a boyfriend.

~...We will soon know!~

Engulfing Storms

As the storm grows nearer, the headache worsens and excitement thrives. Though aching at times, such power engulfs me. The damage endured merits the rush. The banality of the truth is striking as I grow more aware of the pleasure exuding from the pain. To exchange a brief moment of discomfort for a lingering time of delight: their is no question.

You ask, then don't understand. To the world of pleasure seekers, they need neither ask, nor riposte. For a deep appreciation for desire persists, in truth it dominates beyond recognition. Begging for respite only to be left empty and unfulfilled. The final rumble of thunder steals away your last hope of climax.

~rain only makes you wet~

In Synch

We stand at the foot of the mountain
Hand in hand, eyes cast upward
Contemplating one and the same
Yet viewing from truly dissimilar positions.

I marvel at the drastic contrast
I fear the bearings where we'll converge:
How far must we trek before we unite;
How far until we balance?

We walk this path in tandem 
In step yet discrete
Our footsteps echo behind us
The shadows cast no light on our path.

~a predicament~

Held in Bed

Last night I had a dream that I had been kidnapped and held hostage. He held me hostage in a bed. I wasn’t tied (this wasn’t a kinky dream). He just told me to stay there, and he served me. He brought me drink and food when ere I needed it. I think he was trying to make me fall in love with him. He seemed to have known me (perhaps he was a stalker as well).

Occasionally he would allow others to enter the house, but they were not permitted any kind of weapon, and he had a gun on them the entire time.

A while later, after I’d been rescued and my kidnapper had been convicted, I was with a friend and we returned to the house where it happened. I thought I would be ok, but then someone came out. The man, though very handsome, looked just like the man that had held me against my will. I started to shake; I could barely breath. I turned away and fell to the ground. Apparently the incident really affected me.

They explained to me that this was that guy’s brother. They are nothing alike and he feels horrible for what his brother did to me.

Ok, I got over it. But then, for some reason, they brought me with them when they went to see his family. I didn’t have quite the breakdown that I had had earlier, but I was definitely not comfortable. The good brother explained to the family why I was uneasy. Apparently they didn’t know.

~Apparently, the warmer I am, the less I dream~

One of Life's Cruel Games

There will always be at least one or two students that drive you CRAZY. And that's not to say that you will necessarily dislike those students, but your patience with them maybe continuously on this ice. One of these students for me is Chiku. She cannot sit still, she does not stop talking, and you should never trust a word out of her mouth.

Well Chiku, entered the school in tears today. Her knee and elbows were cut open and bleeding as she'd tripped on a "big rock" and fell onto the stones. So I took her to the bathroom and helped clean her up.
Once she'd stopped crying, and she'd been bandaged she declared, "I don't think I'll be running on those rocks any time soon!" (for the record she can was running on them by the end of the day)
I told her that's a good idea, she probably shouldn't have been running on them to begin with.
She looked up at me and said in her matter-of-fact way, "but Miss Dahmer, I didn't want to be late. It makes you made and I don't like when you're mad."
Too bad she tends to forget this at all other times of the day. Oh well, it was cute.

Later today, I was at the library when this same girl rushes in. She stops, looks at me and yells "Miss Dahmer!" in a somewhat accusing voice, and attacks me with a hug. Apparently all my talk of "library voices" haven't sunk in. But no surprises there.

At least I know she'll still love me after I've pulled out all my hair.


~above all else, love; for love covers a multitude of sins~

Take Me, Inside The Words

We all retain- whether publicly or not- a venue of interest. A site, in the depths of our mind, where our thoughts and fantasies reside. There, exists a spring of unending whims. The purpose of this source differs from person to person. As does its authority.
For me, my mind, heart, and soul is refreshed within the confines of literature. Words that long preexist me, and so will prevail. Stories of love, passion, courage, and fear. Words webbed together in a genuine form of beauty. Artists whom I admire and envy above all else.
To be surrounded by so many worlds, characters, dreams, and desires does little but fuel me. Fuel me for life, love, and purpose. No matter the affair at hand, I draw my stimulus from these things.

And so, with a refuge such as this, is it unnatural to yearn for my own passion among the immortal? To somehow, if only in my insignificant form, join in on their pleasure for a short time. It is not to slight the masters that I hunger for this, but to honour them.

~words become meaningful when bound~

Turning On the Waterworks

I have never been one to shed a lot of tears. Other than books and movies, few things fazed me. Now don't take this the wrong way, I cried when my grandparents died, and when me father got sick. But that was the extent of it.

This all changed about a year ago. I can't give you an exact date, but I often associate it with the start of Mason's and my relationship. Now this sounds bad, and Mason hates that I make that link, for some reason though, it just made sense. It wasn't that he was mean to me, abused me, or in anyway attempted to make me cry. It would just happen.

Tonight, after a number of defiant weeping episodes, I may have finally come up with a basis for this [emotional] madness.


When I read, or watch a movie, I get attached to the characters. There are times after a movie, that I find myself behaving like a character from it, reenacting certain scenes. And you saw from my early post how my books can take hold of my mind. It is for this reason that books and movies caused me to shed tears. To me, they weren't just a form of entertainment. I was invested in the characters, and their lives. So when one died, or had their heart broken, or some other dramatic event, I felt their pain as well.
I can be an extremely empathetic person.

Since Mason entered my life, my emotions seem to have gone haywire. Tonight, I think I have discovered the reason for this- emotional investment.
I've always been a guarded person, but he broke down my boundaries and has released the teary beast!

Thankfully, he is patient, and only teases me slightly for the seemingly pointless grounds for my tears.

~Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast!~

You Dream what You Read

The other night I had a dream. Someone I loved was being held hostage (I have no idea who this person is, so from now on I'll call him/her Blair). So, of course, I was in pursuit of them. I discovered that Blair was being held by at least two men.  While one was distracted, I sneaked in to make my rescue.
The man that was holding Blair was no man at all, but one of my students- Abbott. Of course in my dream I wasn't a teacher, and he was not an 8 year old boy. But nonetheless, it freaked me out.
So I crept up behind Abbott with the notion that I was going to cut his throat... I won't go in to the gory details as they still give me the hibby jibbies. But I will have to remember next time I'm cutting someone's throat in a dream, I should remember to sharpen the blade.


Here I am, 3 days later, still slightly unnerved by this dream. I mean, I know that the hostage situation, and murdering was influenced by my choice of entertainment that night (I was watching season 1 of 24, and read The Hunger Games). But from where did my student come from? Why was he the one that I had to kill?
Do I need to visit a psychologist? Or am I just so into The Hunger Games, that subconsciously I'm experiencing what I imagine Katniss to be facing in having to kill those she cares about.


~I woke from that dream crying~

Don't Just Watch Me

What must I do to get your attention. To what lengths must I go? It is not enough for a mere glance, or casual visit. I need more. I need interaction.
When I bare my soul to you, react. When I divulge my desires to you, don't merely smile and nod. Reciprocate with reason.
You come, you explore, then you're off, with no evidence of your stay.

Talk. Share. Depart on me your wisdom. For this is the point: the reason I commune.


~As I criticize you~

So They Say

They say a guy that treats you well, 
and the waitress poorly, 
is not a good guy. 

If you want to know how he is going to treat you in 10 or 20 years,

look at how he treats his mother. 

Of course there are always exceptions. 

But these are good rules of thumb. 

Be aware of how he treats others, as well as you. 

For more, I found this site. 

~Don't let your love be blind~

Shhhhh!

and you'll say
don't you worry your pretty little mind
people throw rocks at things that shine
and life makes love look hard
the stakes are high the water's rough
but this love is ours...

Falling fast from our high
the struggles and pain
can make it hard to try

I fear a demise
on our current path
beneath these stormy skies

A silent plea
barely reaches your ears
I know not it I want you to see

It was once proclaimed
"All You Need is Love"
but can that love be sustained


~I'm a Kayak here me roar~

On My Lips

A song which I understand. The message and the reason is clear. 

It makes me smile.

It makes me dance. 

It gives me shivers. 

~Just Like You~

A Concerned Note

The music speaks to me. There are brief moments of clarity, but in general it is a hazy voice. I know not what it tells me, and fear this. With numerous messages bearing the same theme, I search for an interpreter. I fear it is time for the truth to be revealed, whatever that may be.

A remembrance of what once was, with a hint of the now. Where is my heart focused? What does my mind see? Are they memories of the past, or desires for the future?
The passion, the value, where is it sustained? I remain fascinated, but fear why.

~Sing me the truth, so that I may know it. ~

Need to Feel Some Movin'

I wanna feel the Earth move under my feet
move me a long way from here.
Just pick up my house, and job,
and church, and transplant me.
Either 6 hours north,
or 12 hours East.
I just want to move.


~slightly torn, and extremely out of place~

To Feel

So Called "Life"

Last week I was in Jamaica with my parents and sister #2.
Jamaica is a beautiful place. It's not like Mexico with mile upon mile of beach, but it has hills, and trees. There is life everywhere, it reminds me of paradise!

The people are all very friendly... some of them- mainly the men- perhaps TOO friendly. I have never been hit on so much. It was uncomfortable at times, but it was also a nice reminder. Everyone needs to be informed now and then that they are desired, however shallow that yearning may be.

Having toured a little bit of the island on a day excursion I was also reminded of how blessed we are in North America. They all have so little, and their houses look as if they are on the verge of collapsing. Of course, when hurricane season lasts from June till November, for half the year your house practically is falling down!

It is the perfect vacation- an all inclusive resort. No cooking or cleaning. Sleep when you want, eat when you want, drink when you want. The biggest problem we faced was having to wait for seats at the restaurant. Which, in retrospect was not that big of a deal.

To enjoy life in this manner for a week, or two... or maybe even 3, is surely a sublime existence. But ultimately, having a larger meaning in life - a reason other than wanting good chairs at the beach- to get up everyday, wins out. Or so I'd imagine it would... if I ever put this theory to the test.

Unfortunately, however, it will have to remain a mere theory for now. Money, job, and so called "life" have summoned me home and I am back to work.

~As the Jamaicans say, "we have a situation here"~

Be My Valentine

Here's a quick *share* from me to you. I have attached a picture of the beautiful Valentine I got this year- from my boyfriend's parents. The only one. (Other than from my students.) Isn't life funny. 

~oops! forgot to smile~

1 Year... And Counting

It's been 1 year ago today since my boyfriend's and my first date. However, we do not consider this our anniversary. I guess it took us a few days to decide we liked each other enough to continue this.
I've never made it this long before- a year that is. Usually I get scared or bored with the boys I'm with. Maybe it helps this time that for the majority of the relationship we've lived at least 6 hours apart. Makes each time we see each other seem like a real novelty, and emotions are somewhat exaggerated. So can I say I have a realistic view and understanding of "us"?

~how'd we do it?~

Small Fits of Laughter 2

For many of the children in my class, English is their second language. Though they have no accent to reveal this, it can be seen at times in certain words or phrases they use, or try to use.

One boy in particular tends to be a reoccurring star in this.
Once again this arose at prayer time. Over the past few weeks we'd been praying for the victims of various plane, train, and helicopter crashes the kids had heard about. One of my little grade ones -I'll call him Arnie- raised his hand suggesting we pray for the "vrixdoms of the crashes."
It took a moment to realize he was trying to say 'victims'. He had no idea that he was saying it wrong, he was just trying to imitate what he heard the other children say. In his mind, he was saying it the exact same way.


On Friday, Arnie successfully got me, along with my 2 TAs bulled over laughing. It was one of my TAs last day on Friday because she is going to Africa on a 2 month mission trip. As a class we had made her a class book, each writing something we will remember about her. When I was presenting the book to her, I asked the kids where it was that she was going. Many kids raised their hands: I called on Arnie. He announced loudly to the class, "she is passing away."
Well we couldn't hide our laughter this time.
Before I had a chance to correct Arnie, one of the kids yelled out to Arnie, "that means she's going to die!"

At least he's a good sport about it, and his mistakes don't cause him embarrassment which lead to shyness or an unwillingness to share with the class.
It is his innocence that brings joy, not his desire to be comical, that's the most refreshing part.


~tell me a story~

Small Fits of Laughter 1

Despite all the frustration and annoyance, my students make me laugh.

Illustration for the day
We begin every day with a devotion. After reading a short story with a lesson, and verses that correspond, I take prayer requests from the students. The father of 2 boys in my class (brothers obviously) had a surgery before Christmas. This has landed him a semi-permanent spot on our prayer list. Last week when the older brother requested we pray for him, I asked how he was doing. He responded, solemnly, "he's about 89% better." Firstly, I know that these kids have very little, if any understanding of percentages. Secondly, even if he did understand percentages- 89?
A few days ago, at our daily prayer time, this boy once again requested special prayers for his dad. Upon inquiry once again on his condition, he informed us that he is now "99% better!"
One of the girls was amazed, "he was 89% last week, and this week is 99%, wow!"

It reminds me of the innocence of children and how they see the world in such positive light. This way the little things can be appreciated so much more.

~a simple sort of way~

Time is Running Out

Life on a pendulum- swinging back and forth, back and forth- without an anchor (or a power switch) has its faults. Not only does dizziness ensue, but stability is none existent. Ultimately, it's a mental state more than anything else. A free falling mind-set easily swayed by winds from all directions. Even when level, my course is blurry, and body spinning, resulting in a feeble attempt at success. A path to be reached through accidents and weak excuses.

It is not what you can do to help me, but what I must do to save me.
But what is it must I do?

~Tic tock on the clock~

¡Breaking News!

That which has always been rumoured, but never experienced in my life has transpired! Up until now, when a man had been told of his woman's discontent or worry, some [false] sympathy had been expressed, and a moment or two of "transformation" unfolded.  But that was the extent of it. Recently however, after informing Mason that  I was unhappy and needed a change. I was amazed to SEE that change occur- almost instantaneously.

Now I know what you sceptics are thinking- because I use to be one, so I know how you think. But it's been nearly 2 weeks, and the alterations in behaviour have been constant throughout. It was not a one time thing, but a genuine, modification.

I am baffled, overwhelmed, and sincerely impressed. Miracles really do happen!
He continues to amaze me, and for that I am grateful. I applaud his heart, commitment, and patience (mostly in dealing with my sometimes irrational fears).

~only slightly exaggerated~

"According to my Research"

I hope this isn't true, or I still have a long way to go. Though I doubt it is. In my opinion a lot of what scientists, or psychologist tell the public is just one possibility of what the "evidence" points to. It's all in how you interpret it. 

Plus, much of what our world views as love, is little more than a lust or obsession over someone... or even over a feeling. Our world sees love as a self-centered thing, what can it do for me. Love-true love-is selfless, and this in itself very un-like our world. 

~you had me at hello~

Pin It

I have recently fallen prey to Pinterest. If you have not heard of it- stand strong, don't go check it out. It's addicting! So many interesting ideas, recipes, pictures, quotes... the list goes on! I've joined only days ago, and already I've collected (or in the world of Pinterest "pinned") over 100 pictures and links.
In a way, it's like window shopping, except that there's no fear of falling into actual shopping because they don't have your credit card, and you don't have friends dragging you into stores. It's merely the opportunity to collect ideas of things you like, in nearly any interest or desires.
It is an ingenious way to lead unsuspecting internet users into hours of wasted time, with little more than pictures to show for your quest.

The worst part of all is it has tempted me to explore areas, and feed my fancy on topics I should not currently be concerned with. It has enveloped my mind and seeped into my dreams! Two nights ago Mason and I were wedding planning! Dreams are evil, evil things fed by Pinterest.

~be careful what you're looking for~

A Need to Move in Forward Motion

What began as an adventure has quickly spiralled into motionless realm. That which once encouraged anticipation, now generates vexation. Too many evenings of solitude tends to harden a person- occasionally to the point of desperation. 6 hours no longer seems too long for the touch of a hand that does not belong to a 6 year old. 

The seemingly positive news that only 5 moths remains drives me further to the edge, rather than hearten retreat. 

There is a reason, I just don't see it. And I struggle. 

~stop sending the message I don't want to get~