So it begins. Like a new year dawning before us, we are sent out again into the world with renewed purpose, more clear direction, and another chance to become all that we were meant to be. Twice a year, I get the chance to listen to General Conference. The more I listen, the more I see about the world around me. The more I see the beauty of the women who bring forth and nurture life around me. I also feel the sadness of seeing people try to do the right thing for the wrong reason.

Anyway, people keep sending me e-mails that kind of amuse me, so I choose to share them here since I am not in the mood to send out massive amounts of forwards. Sorry, boys, this one may not appeal to you.

It is good to be a woman:

1. We got off the Titanic first.
2. We can scare male bosses with the mysterious gynecological disorder excuses.
3 Taxis stop for us.
4. We don't look like a frog in a blender when dancing.
5. No fashion faux pas we make could ever rival the Speedo.
6. We don't have to pass gas to amuse ourselves.
7. If we forget to shave, no one has to know.
8. We can congratulate our teammate without ever touching her rear end.
9. We never have to reach down every so often to make sure our privates are still there.
10. We have the ability to dress ourselves.
11. We can talk to the opposite sex without having to picture them naked.
12. If we marry someone 20 years younger, we are aware that we will look like an idiot.
13. We will never regret piercing our ears.
14. There are times when chocolate really can solve all your problems.
15. We can make comments about how silly men are in their presence because they aren't listening anyway.
Send this to all the bright women you know and make their day!!!!!

is that you will tell every one about Fright Club. Not only can you prevent forest fires, but you can help make the first weekend of the Haunted House our best one ever. Come, bring your friends, bring your neighbors, bring your co-workers, bring a change of pants (you may need them), and see the Haunted House at Mylan Park.

The Second Rule of Fright Club is that you will respect all the rules of Fright Club. Every one of the actors is a volunteer. Yes, we are there to entertain you, but we are not there to be abused by you. If you can't behave like an adult or, at least, a well-behaved child, stay home and watch a scary movie alone.

The Third Rule of Fright Club is that you will be frightened. We love to hear you scream. You know you want to scream. Why else would you come to a Haunted House? You can not prove you are unafraid by holding that scream. In fact, if you bottle too many screams, your abdomen explodes and we add you to a scene. Where do you think we get those bonus bodies from? When the big bad beastie comes at you and wiggles his eyebrows, be afraid, be very afraid, and then release that scream or join us. Muhahahahaha!

So we began setup today. It led to more reminders of what a sad world we live in. Sad simply because people are not into taking good advice or rewarding good work. I spent most of my time this evening advocating making sure something was done right before moving on to the next stage. This means that stage two got to be done about three times. I tire of people refusing to listen to me or accept the fact that a mere hobbit knows far more than they give her credit for. Ah, but the future comes...

I come closer and closer to saying those words to each person in my world for a variety of reasons. Is it wrong of me to no longer want to be taken for granted? Is it wrong of me to tire of caring for the feelings of those who don't care if they trample me? The curtain comes closer and closer to closing. Act I has to end before Act II can begin. And if both those acts have come to pass and worn out their span on the stage, Act III is quick to follow.

At last, all of my dreams can be realized. I can become a puppet-master at my very own university. Imagine the joy and the wonder. Imagine all the kids scarred for life by the crossover of my divality with my October scaring needs. Ah, but I have already been a puppet-master. It is a wonderful story involving a paper bag, a bunny, and some crayons that will just have to wait for my memoirs. You don't expect me to give it all away for free, do you? Oh, you do? Well, that explains a lot. Such a boost for motivation when people make sure you know they value you less than others who don't actually meet the same standards as you. "It's a very common psychosis. I am seeink it every day."

Midnight is coming for me, I feel it pressing in
Begging me to return, telling me I can't win
That the chains are never broken, only it can heal
The hatred and the pain that the lies make me feel

Midnight is coming with no lies in its wings
Not chasing me with gold, offering me crystal rings
That promise the dreams and solace if I will but lie
And say I have learned when my own truths I deny

Midnight is coming to wash away the day, choke my light
Give away all I ever saw and quietly delight
In thinking it has owned me, brought me to my knees
But I have never been one who sees what everyone sees

I guess in the morning when I wake up an roll off my massive pillow, I just want a few things to be constant. I want to be me. I want to know I have not set out to hurt someone else. And I want to know that I can wear a pretty, funny, scary, or normal costume just for me. We're all playing dress-up, and I have said it before. The difference is that I am playing dress-up for me. No one else knows exactly why I wore those socks with that shirt, but I do and that is all that matters. You may make your suppositions. You will be wrong.

You will be wrong like the people who like to tell me that they can replace me. You can find someone to fill my shoes, but they will never be me. I offer something unique to any endeavor I take. That is because I don't belong here. I belong somewhere where it isn't so hard to care for people. What do I mean? I am no savior of mankind. I don't have the power to fix what other people break. And if you break me and then want to mend it, I am sorry but you should have thought of that before.

The problem with what I fear is the onset of an ear infection is that I get philosophical. I also get a little loopy on those natural drugs my body releases to kill off evil bacteria and/or viri. My little Dr. Mario takes his business very seriously and those colorful pills are incredibly potent. Ah, too many hours in front of games and televisions may have warped my brain, but they certainly add to the pop culture metaphors that I like to toss into my philosophy lessons. Anyway, I have many other projects awaiting my attention, but I wanted to send out some riddles to my biggest fans. "Riddle me this, riddle me that..."

Some people should not wear strange teeth. They forget they are there and continue wandering around with them in place until they come face to face with a mirror. Hilarity ensues.

Everyone should wear a tablecloth. Your little goth friends will love it.

Divas should be kept in boxes. The real world can't handle us, and, quite frankly, we shouldn't have to accommodate it.

THE HAUNTED HOUSE IS SO COOL that at least SIX people PAID to see it TWICE. Okay, so one of them honestly didn't see it either time, but that happens when you hide behind your hair.

I think I'm tired. Oh, I am tired. Yes, very very sleepy. I think I shall now hypnotize myself and fall into my newly renovated sleeping accommodations.

The problem with me in the world is that the world expects things to travel in a line. A single, unbroken line that stretches out before us. It should be clearly mapped. One thing must be done before another. Another thing must be chosen with exclusion to all else. This is why so many people get hurt or offended when they realize that I have more than one friend. Jealousy is never pretty and does nothing to build a friendship. It even strains the bonds of the strongest love. Of course, love is not the issue and, I fear, never really was. I have more than enough, and I am tired of people trying to tell me I should steal it like they do. That doesn't work for me. If someone doesn't want to give me something, I am not going to force them. Just as I can go to Kroger's if Giant Eagle doesn't have my favorite brand of ice cream, I can find other avenues for hobbit appreciation, loyalty, and that fabled respect we all speak of.

I just need to find time to get there. Ah, October, how I love thee and thy fabulous holidays. I still haven't found time to make my costume though I did find the time to clean for my roomie's friends and make myself a pie from a recipe I have been wanting to try. Costumes seem to take more from me (and are much more fun to wear). Speaking of, it's about time for me to go find tonight's lucky costume for amusing those brave enough to enter into the Haunted Halls of the Stepping Stones' building at Mylan Park.

"Great women and men are always more anxious to serve than to have dominion." ~Spencer W. Kimball (Ensign, November 1979, p. 104.)

It is hard to scare people that you have seen passed out drunk in your floor.

It is hard to scare people who are twice your height.

It is hard to scare people who don't take you seriously.

The spirit speaks with a still small voice. I read with a still small voice in church.

Sorry, but you are never going to reach me, so go ahead and quit trying. You had your chance to be a friend and instead you tried to lock me up. Neither divas nor butterflies like chains, so just look away when I spread my wings.

So the day has been a full one. I managed to turn my alarm clock off without obeying its demands to wake up. Then my cat woke me and tried to force me out into the day. As my car is suffering from Monday madness, this was not a successful mission. With aching heels and a weary brain, I decided to cut my losses and stay at home for the fun that is my house. I was pleasantly surprised to find my cousin logging on this morning with more fabulous baby news. Apparently, her brother is now a proud papa and she is expecting her own beautiful little girl next month. It is apparently a baby boom in the family. I guess I may just have to adopt Rodney a little brother or sister to keep with the trend.

I made surprising progress on one of my projects until I started over-complicating it and realized I should have thought it through more clearly in the first place. I am about to stick my nose back into it and hopefully drown out the keening sound of my new friend Jordan. I am puppy sitting for a bit and I fear I don't entertain puppies as much as their owners do. This is probably best for the puppy's mommy and daddy, not to mention Ziggy. Ziggy has already expressed her deep desire not to spend quality time with a puppy (even if the puppy is sweeter and almost tinier than her).

I also battled the battle of store coupon usage. I find that being poor gives me a greater appreciation for a box of food that can provide about four meals for me and only costs me a quarter. Maybe someday, I will be able to buy something more exotic like a big bag of oranges. *sigh* You know your life is sad when you forgo oranges because the price is prohibitive. Don't worry though, I am sure that someone will eventually accept my worth and pay me for simply being me. When I get some other projects under my hat, I plan to work on that. If you are interested in paying me to do something, please let me know. Otherwise, quit hinting for freebies. If your job is to make paper hats, I wouldn't insist you make me one for free, and I expect the same courtesy.

Anyway, I also discovered that one of my neighbors is not a locksmith. I am sure most of them aren't, but this one definitely isn't. I asked. He did try to help me regain the key my mailbox stole though, which makes him a good person. Oh well, my roomie actually came up with the right solution for acquiring a key from an angry lock, so he gets a cookie. I think I'll wait a few days until he has recovered from having visitors. (Warning: visitors=much eating out) Time for you to go live your own life. Keep it real and keep it true to you. I am going to go do things that don't involve metal keys.

I ees a dlrow lluf fo elpoep ohw tnod wonk tahw yeht kniht yeht od. Wokh ldji loui jhtfhipk jlijli jhgyj. Knbipk jholwa jdhikl. We jlwolkkh hhgguue khywkda ascm kajs. Jnase lawla kklacetr klkpwas lkwalko. Savn kndawr csadd Deasmkj kKNUugqgbf sklfjn. Wlsdj aklfjiwu arjowi iahri ahskahuia aljsiwlasj aiwislaj.

I find myself wondering from time to time about life's more important questions. Would a hobbit hermit get enough food? Is my ear really a phone booth for cell phone users? How can an editor miss a typo in a headline? Am I turning British?

It was another normal day in the life of an allegedly untrained information specialist. I wrestled with names, I conquered fiche, and when the day was done, I still had mystical papers of unknown origin both on and in my desk. One of these days, I am going to do the unthinkable and solve the papers that my predecessors left me in a code that only they could understand. I look forward to the challenge, but, for now, I shall continue to do what I do best. What's that? Clean my desk over and over. It is a complicated process that makes it look like I am accomplishing nothing at all unless you happen to be looking for documents on water levels, climate, or even the taboo subject of defense undergarments.

The evening was about as interesting. I decided to put forth the effort to fold my laundry. October tends to get so hectic that I flutter from project to project without alighting long enough to finish one. Peers into another window, which reminds me that my date is waiting. Keep it cool, babes.

So many people seem afraid of fading into the darkness around them. They clamor to be seen. They walk on the backs of others. They cast stones. They enter bizarre contests like the one in my dream last night (someone asked me to take their baby to a beauty contest of some sort). Now, I know we all learned in basic psychology that negative and positive ways exist for gaining attention. Shall I review some negatives:

1. It is not a good idea to cause yourself bodily injury to get someone's attention. While the country song declares that "chicks dig it", not all chicks really want a guy who is going to keep risking his life and causing her heart to flutter into instability.

2. Blatant lies are not such a good idea either. A red-head with freckles and buck teeth, no matter how adorable, can not get by with claiming he is Superman. The best he can hope for is Chuckie from Rugrats.

3. Now I realize it was adorable when little boys would steal my pencil and wait for me to discover they had it, it is not so endearing in a man or a woman.

4. The silent treatment is also not such a great idea. If you have consistently made it clear you don't respcet someone, it might not be a good idea to give them a chance to walk off into the dock and get lost in the crowd.

5. Trampling someone into the ground (emotionally or physically) will definitely get their attention. However, it should be noted that some people when they get up from that are not going to come back for more.

Just some more commentary on what this world has degenerated to? Indeed. It would be nice if people would give me some credit for knowing what they are trying to do. Of course, perhaps, I give them too much credit in assuming they are aware of the stupid behavior they exhibit. Ah, well, on to the brighter and happier side of my coin.

I don't want to pull out my coin right now though. I fear it will be cold as my house is not very warm right now. I am boycotting my heater. If I turn it on, that means that I accept that winter is coming. While I am ready for the hot chocolate *sip*, I am not quite ready for coats and mittens and sliding on the ice. Nor am I ready for my cars obstinant refusal to start, but, as we all know, I have already been witness to that. Okay, I have my chocolate, bring it on.

So I had more evidence last night that I am not scary. I find this rather ironic since I have been told by some pretty creepy people that I am the only person who scares them. I have even watched people run and hide, but that is not the point. I was doing my noble best in our scene last night (short of deafening people, as per request of some other actors). A woman pointed me out to her son, who was quite scared at this point, and right as he looked at me, a beastie leaped out between us. The woman instantly put her hands over her sons eyes. Oh, so hard to keep the laughter in, which might help explain why I am not scary.

Of course, it is morning, so none of that really matters at this moment. I have the cats and I have projects. I always have projects, which is good because some snowboarders just appeared in my living room, and I may have to clear out. Some of them are in very tight snowsuits and one of them has a fro. I better go see if they need anything to eat or drink and then move into the day.

Some days, this journal is far too negative. I seem to reward people for their bad behavior by giving them what they want attention. Today, I feel more inclined to think fondly of those people who are what I am looking for in life. Sadly, none of the people I am going to refer to read this journal, but someday they may and then they'll get all warm and fuzzy to know that they inspired me to write something nice.

One is a fabulous hobbit chick who is kind enough to pick me up on Sunday mornings since the hobbitmobile is being angry since it got "fixed". She also inspires me to achieve some of my short term goals. While those goals don't seem very important, and, this month, are more of a pain to me than a light in the dark, it is my hope that they will spread sunlight throughout this fabulous world. I have no promise of that, but even the smallest kind deed can influence the world for good.

Another is a chica from church who apparently has only seen me at my sunshiny best. This means she hasn't seen my deep amusement at small children in the haunted house pulling on their mother's sleeve and declaring, "Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom right now." (In my defense, that was not my handiwork, but it still made me giggle). Anyway, we were discussing angry chick music, and she declared that she couldn't see me singing angry chick music. In fact, she stated she couldn't imagine me singing anything without the word "sunshine" in the title. Hehehe, she shouldn't read the poetry I slap into this journal from time to time then.

Another, who I am sure I have mentioned before, continues to remind me that wonderful people still breath the same polluted air as me. Despite us not talking often, she remembers my obsession with October and how unavailable it makes me. She doesn't fault me for this, but offers to work around my schedule to see me. I wish I could be that good of a friend. (That doesn't mean I want people to teach me how by making demands of me, since that kind of negates part of the reason why I love her). And so I have at least three wonderful friends to appreciate today (and with my long list of friends and loved ones, I am sure I have three more for tomorrow and three more for the day after that). I also have some documents to read, treats to make, love to deliver, and other fabulous Sunday activities to perform before the day is over, so go appreciate your own friends and maybe some hot cocoa. Brrrr!

Swift gratitude is the sweetest. ~Greek Proverb

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. ~William Arthur Ward

I think of life itself, now, as a wonderful play that I've written for myself. ...And so my purpose is to have the most fun playing my part. ~Shirley MacLaine

The aim of life is some way of living, as flexible and gentle as human nature; so that ambition may stoop to kindness, and philosophy to candor and humor. ~George Santayana (1863-1952)

We wake up, we rise, we become,
But we can't say this enough
We're better, we're new, we've overcome
But we can't say this enough
We're living, we're here, we have chances
But we can't say this enough
We lied, we cheated, we stole romances
But we can't say this enough
We hope, we strive, we want to learn
But we can't say this enough
As we freeze, we stammer, we burn
We can't say this enough
We admire, we weep, we're starry
But we can't say this enough
If we don't mean it, we're not "sorry"

The ball comes soaring through the air and falls slowly toward an outstretched palm. Do we let it drop or hope the person behind us is quick enough to catch it? What about those instances where the ball is coming at us and someone else is trying to catch it at the same time? Or the instance where someone tries to knock us over to get the ball because they want to be the one to catch it and they just send it skittering across the grass?

So that is to remind me of some things that I am confused about. For the rest of you, I have composed a piece on nuns. The first question is whether the nuns really exist. I saw each of them briefly, but during the course of the evening, they all disappeared. They missed the fun of Big Booty. I am now scarred for life again. I don't think my brain will ever be clean of Big Booty. The real question is whether Edwina will recover from the night's experience or seek out her own cloister. Ah, the fun. The joy. The happy times. I need to sleep.

In my concern over the existence of nuns, I forgot to mention another escapade of my yesterday and ensuing thoughts. When people do something nice for me, I like to let them know in some way that I do appreciate it. I also have this deep need to randomly bake goodies and treats. I made some banana nut bread on Sunday, and as it is a personal favorite of hobbits, far and wide, I decided to take some over to my friend's house last night. Luckily, she was home, and since traveling in twos and threes is more fun, we decided to make a brief visit to the soon to be barren Walmart. Nothing too exciting happened there, but it was nice to just spend time with a friend, an adorable baby, and try this whole relaxing thing.

Anyway, somehow from our conversation (where I proved again that I talk too much), a little seed of what is wrong with Bella was planted. As you can guess, it was me planting that seed. I just love to plant seeds and see what grows from them. So I pondered on it some, went and played with invisi-nuns, came home, watched sweaty men flail around, and went to sleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, and I woke up with a headache. I also woke up with a random quote from some movie (that I may not have actually seen) whose title escapes me . Anyway, I think the quote sums up what is wrong with Bella:

"Why do you try so hard to fit in, when you were born to stand out?"

I am not claiming I am some stellar babe (though I will let you feel that way about me if you wish). I am just observing that the more I try to fit into this puzzling world, the more angry and hateful I get. The more I accept that I love the cloak, the blue dress, the lace up tights, the skirts that billow about me, the velvet, the lace, the leather, the fangs, and being completely unique (which could explain why people who imitate me get on my nerves), the happier I am. Though this does have its horrible side effects. When you stand out, people with cameras are drawn to you. Unfortunately, for the photographers, I am not actually photogenic. I know they realize it because most often, these pictures don't make their way into the paper. I have had my photograph taken by the local paper at least three times this year alone and haven't heard about any one seeing them (it would have been four if I hadn't fled from the building, so only the display I worked on actually made it--someday I will post my own pictures of said display, I swear).

The trick is to find the time. The other trick is to get people to pay me to entertain them. But like all media sluts, I just keep giving it away for free. I wonder how it feels to be the ones so desperate they are lapping up the scraps though. That's got to be tough. Not as tough as facing the fact that the nicer I am, the more reliable I am, the more worthwhile I am, the more people want to knock me down...enough of that...

I think the demons need me. Here, pretty demon, let's go torture some cats...

I find myself quite unable to take what is given sometimes. Too many years of handouts? Too much conviction that someone else could do it? It is hard to understand like why I second guess my own decisions. I will confess, at last, that second guessing my instincts is how I end up in illustrious places like Fairmont, Bruceton Mills, and Pittsburgh. Driving to any of those fabulous locations has never been a great necessity for me.

Amazing how it burns to think of it yet feels so comfortable to slip into the skin of my personal sun. I love the way it burns and crinkles. I love the way it burns away inhibitions. Maybe this will finally be the time I let it all go. Maybe I'll let my hair down and go dance in this fall rain. Maybe I'll let the raindrops soak into me (if they don't steam off of my sun). Then I'll glow in the mist that clings to me and pulls me back into an unreal place where someone besides me understands.

So I spent last night acquainting myself with what it feels like to be a sorority chick in the University city. Granted, I only learned about a couple of the trials they face on those mid-winter party trips. I realized why it is not so wonderful to wear a short skirt and no coat when snowflakes are descending upon us. I also have a faded inkstain on my hand that still says paid. I am sorry, but my fursonal advisor tells me not to disclose what was paid for...

But he is sleeping, so let's get on with the gossip. Now why was I out carousing in bars? I wasn't. I went to a swing dance Halloween party last night. I am not sure swing dance is my thing. It requires something that divas aren't known for keeping--a partner. Most of my dancing involves cats and veils. Of course, I could always dance with doors (anyone know the movie in which Shannen Doherty was the "original slam dancer"?).

Thanks to all the hobbits and men brave enough to dance with me. I believe they may still be in recovery, but I am afraid to ask. I am not alone in that fear, so I will justify myself. There we go! All my words now line up perfectly with the margin.

Another point of the day (definitely not a high one) was the person serving me at the convenience store trying to convince me I didn't want my receipt. Now, I had told her I wanted one. She asked again. I repeated that I did want one. She then asked if I was going to throw it away. I can't lie (or be shown up by George Washington), so I informed her that yes, I would eventually throw it away. I then had to explain that I wanted it to record the amount. I don't believe it is necessary for me to share that information with a random stranger. Her job is to give me the receipt should I want it, not try to convince me that it is not what I want. Could someone please tell me where people get off telling me how I feel or what I want (or should want)? And why do I have to keep repeating these things? Maybe if I screamed it on a cell phone in their ears...

Today was not nearly as exciting. I decided I wanted a lunch that would be counsel free. Thus I had a PB&J and some yogurt. This got me into a fabulous conversations with the missionaries about how I was studying the perfection of a PB&J and how it is a true masterpiece. You should all be anxiously awaiting my doctoral thesis on how one must be a trained chef to make the perfect PB&J. It's true and all of my points are valid, but I can't fill this with that. Nor can I fill it with any more excitement, so my ongoing solitaire fiche game will have to wait another day for updates.

"We are not saved as congregations nor as groups, but we are saved as we come into the world as individuals, and the Lord's purpose is to save the individual, each being precious in his sight." ~David O. McKay (CR, April 1957.)

I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand--that the world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity to make a living. ~John D. Rockefeller, Jr. (1874-1960)

Opportunity is a bird that never perches. ~Claude McDonald

The laughter of a child is the light of a house. ~African Proverb

The great cathedral space which was childhood. ~Virginia Woolf

We are all wanderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams. ~Gypsy Proverb

Hold fast to dreams/For if dreams die,/Life is a broken-winged bird/That cannot fly. ~Langston Hughes

"Every missionary and every member has the right--yes, even the obligation--to bear testimony of Jesus Christ to his friends, family, and neighbors in mildness and in meekness." ~Robert D. Hales (Ensign, May 1979, p. 77.)

Despite my penchant for washing my hands, I still have the proud proclamation that I am paid visible on my hand. Obviously, despite mastering the art of dressing like a hooch, I have not mastered the art of removing unwanted body coloring. Perhaps, I should go have this permanently tatooed on my hand. I have to do something wild and crazy, don't I?

"Satan wants us to feel unequal to our worldly tasks. If we turn to God, He will lead us through our darkest hours." ~Marvin J. Ashton (Ensign, November 1980, p. 60.)

I've developed a new philosophy--I only dread one day at a time. ~Charles M. Schulz

Our faults irritate us most when we see them in others. ~Pennsylvania Dutch Proverb

So I was reading the university paper today and I skimmed through our crime report. I enjoyed the following clip, "Report of two unconscious males...Both of them denied being in a fight or being on the ground." I can just picture it and the logic that goes with it. "I don't care where you found me officer, I was not on the ground. As a matter of fact, I have never seen the ground before."

Even when all my phone calls seem to depress or annoy me, I can always hold out hope that the DA will cheer me up. It just can't help itself. With blatant typos, mis-reported news, untimely articles, and reports of local intelligence, I can't help but be amused.

Today's other fabulous events may not be able to compare. I spent most of the day playing the game of solitaire that everyone envies so much. I also went to a workshop ob having better meetings. Hopefully, it has magically cured us all so our next meetings will be even better. Think it's possible?

"In this life we have to make many choices. Some are very important choices. Some are not. Many of our choices are between good and evil. The choices we make, however, determine to a large extent our happiness or our unhappiness, because we have to live with the consequences of our choices. Making perfect choices all of the time is not possible. If just doesn't happen. But it is possible to make good choices we can live with and grow from." James E. Faust, "Choices," Ensign, May 2004, 51

If I wept, would you hear me
If I screamed, would you fear me
If I dreamed, would you mock me
If I strove, would you block me
If I wandered, would you guide me
If I cowered, would you hide me
If I needed, would you give me
If I died, would you outlive me
If I had it all, would you envy me
If I came to call, would you deny me

Some days I am not sure what I am looking for. I think I am looking for Waldo, but I am really looking for Yoda. This could be why my muse eludes me. She is hiding. She may even be in her Halloween costume already just to avoid inspiring me. I hope her costume is as awesome as mine. Mine has wifely approval and that is all I need to make me confident it will wow the audiences of the world stage.

Tonight is the last night of the year that you will get the chance to help out Stepping Stones by coming to see the haunted house. Some drunk people and wild ravers have already appreciated our show (I mention them because they came through twice). We also had one of our patrons announce that they were leaving if we moved. I do fear to tell you that part of acting involves movement unless one is hired to play a wax figure and those scenes don't work so well for a haunted house. Well, that tells you what I am not. See ya later.

I had an entry. It was all typed up and ready to print. It was long. It was inquisitive. It said many things. It revealed some truths. I didn't like it. As I learned a while back, my own criticism does not count. So I deleted that entry that was not worthy of some of my more esteemed readers. I wanted to tantalize and amuse. I wanted to answer some of their more important questions about my world.

Does my world have happiness? Yes, it does just like every candy bar. Does my world have babies? Sometimes when people let me borrow them. (And here I give a shout out to my friendly neighborhood hobbit baby, Parker. Maybe someday, he will get to play with Madelyn...) Does it have men? Sometimes, but I usually have to let them go before Ziggy tries to eat them. (Try living with a fem-Nazi sometime--good times!) Does my realm promote my progression? Usually, but the real question is what I am progressing toward. I think that is between me and someone who doesn't need to read this journal.

On Friday, I got my official third scare of my Hayride/House career. Someone looked directly at me and they screamed. I was shocked. No one ever screams at me. Somehow I am just not scary unless you're on the sharp edge of my anger and smart enough to realize this fact and know it isn't good. I almost fell over from shock, but I pulled myself together and continued not scaring the rest of the group. Thus ends another year of supporting Stepping Stones. Well, there are other events during the year, but I tend to be rather busy, as manifested by my upcoming week.

Tomorrow being the center of my week despite not being the middle day means it will all be downhill, but exciting, from there. I have a costume. I have a catch phrase. I have way too much love for dressing up as someone I am not. I really should do it every day. It wouldn't be much different from what society expects of your average woman. I am just not sure my body wants to get up an hour early to slap powders, gels, and oils on myself. I just hope the world is ready to behold another fabulous creation by me...

But now, now other things call me out into the darkness. I have some relaxing to do, some dinner to eat, and most importantly some sleep to get. See you in the morning if you dare...

"Whether a volunteer, father, home teacher, bishop, or neighbor, whether a visiting teacher, mother, homemaker, or friend there is ample opportunity to give our all. And as we give, we find that "sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven!" (Hymns, no. 147.) And in the end, we learn it was no sacrifice at all." ~President Spencer W. Kimball, Ensign, May 1978

Reach out to help one another. All of us need help from time to time. We need encouragement. We need friends who will stand by us through thick and thin. I ask each of you to be that kind of a friend. ~Gordon B. Hinckley, Ensign, May 1996.

The gospel of Jesus Christ answers the heart's longing for fullness. The Father of our spirits knows where we belong where our core being can say, "I was made for this." To that end, God would have us fulfill our deepest eternal yearnings and know the meaning of our very existence. ~Bruce C. Hafen, Marie K. Hafen, Belonging Heart

Counting blessings is better than recounting problems. ~Russell M. Nelson, Perfection Pending

The Lord wants us to be filled with hope (not just because it points us to a brighter tomorrow, but because it changes the quality of our lives today. We can endure all things when our hope is centered in one who will never fail us) our Savior, Jesus Christ, who is the light of the world. ~Dwan J. Young, Ensign, Nov. 1986

1. So I can jingle when I walk.
2. So I can almost cause car accidents.
3. So guys can almost walk into me because they are staring so intently.
4. So I can wear "costumes".
5. So I can show another fabulous aspect of me.
6. So people can see more of each other after the candy sets in.
7. To confuse the evil spirits.
8. To bring us all together under a common bond of insanity.
9. To finally have the chance to unwind with our mummies.
10. To let people see the world from a different perspective.

We are Hathor. We are the mother of all gods. We have been called a gypsy. We have been asked to dance. We have been mistaken for Cleopatra. We have been referred to as an Egyptian queen. We are none of these things. We are the mother of all Pharoahs. We are the goddess of fertility, inebriety, and music. You would be best served to remember this, get down on your knees, and worship your goddess.

Today we have beheld many wonders. We have been listening to "Bring Me to Life" and had someone ask if we were singing. As the goddess of music, we wish this were so. We find the voice of Amy Lee most pleasing and the lyrics speak to us. Yes, we have explored much of her work and found her pleasing. She has been richly blessed by her goddess.

We have also, despite people not recognizing us, been shown that on some level those who would become are Jaffa or even our beloved recognize the woman that we are. As we ventured forth to learn more of this world, we had a few experiences that showed this. Many were simply the notice that they paid as they drove past in their chariots. They found themselves looking, nay, staring, and risking the possible displeasure of a fender bender for one last look.

Another experience was as we were walking along the narrow sidewalk. A young man was walking toward us. He was looking at us. In fact, he was looking so intently that he almost walked into us, so we greeted him, "Hi." He stammered a "hi" in response and then hurried away blushing. A few steps further on another young follower of Hathor looked up from the metal man to whom he was paying homage with a coin. He looked back to the metal man. He looked back at us again. He smiled. We smiled. He said, "Nice costume." We replied, "Thank you" because we know he was thinking, "That's my kind of goddess."

In fact, a few of the men who became acquainted with us today, stated this same belief. Our work here is done except for one small task. We have been asked to make people understand how sexy an omni can be. Thus the bonus footage: