Weird

I've been thinking a lot about the word weird.  Who came up with that word, and who decided what it means?  I came up with an answer, and I wouldn't dream of leaving you in the dark.  No, that would just be cruel.

We all do.

"What the heck do you mean, Bre?"  You may be thinking, "That word has been around for a long time, it's in the dictionary and I sure didn't petition Webster to put it there." 

Granted you're right, you didn't literally create the word.  However, the word means something different to us all.  Each one of us has decided what normal means and if someone else doesn't fit neatly into our own personal definition of normal, then we automatically label them as weird.

That kind of makes me sad, although I fully admit I do it too.  I'm weird, I've been called so many times, but to a different person I'm considered normal and others might think that I'm awesome. 

I used to live in Washington, and I felt completely set into a category.  The weird thing was I was given two labels, and they were the complete opposite of each other.  All the people at work thought I was goody two shoes 'cause I didn't go out and get drunk with them after work, I didn't swear and I didn't sleep around so they assumed I was completely "holier than thou".  However people at church thought I was a bad person 'cause I didn't regularly go to church.  It was all about perspective, and I didn't feel like I fit the bill for either of those labels.  I realized that nobody there really knew me and the labels they put me prevented them from wanting to get to know the real me.

I wonder how many amazing people I'm missing out on because the labels I put on them keep me from getting to know them. . .

Published, No Biggie

Ok, ok, I'm a little more excited about it than that.  There is an online magazine called Voices from the Garage that features writers. They published one of my blog posts, and featured it on their homepage. 

I don't even know what to say other than klicken sie hier to see it featured on the homepage, or here to see the whole shabang.

Step 1 to beating out J.K. Rowling:  Complete.

Reading Review: Green Rider

Sometimes I read a book and I just want to tell everyone about it, but I don't really know if people actually care about what I read.

Well, I thought it would be fun to share on my blog anyway.  Sometimes I'm looking for a good book to read, and maybe you are too, so I'll share what I've been reading lately and maybe I'll make it a weekly thing.

Lately I've been sucked into trilogies that haven't been complete yet.  I read a book, then find out that it's part of a trilogy and the 2nd and 3rd books aren't out yet, and have to wait for the next book to come out.  Which is excruciating, to say the least. 

When my friend suggested Green Rider I thought sure for several reasons:

1. She wouldn't recommend it if it wasn't good.

2. She doesn't read, so if she read this and thought it was good then it had to be captivating.

3. She said she read it as a kid so I was guaranteed not to get stuck in an unfinished trilogy.

I read the book and loved it.  It's set in a different world, in medieval times, and I haven't read one like that in a long time, so it definitely brought me back to my childhood.  It's about a girl named Karigan that runs away from school, and while out on the road she crosses paths with a Green Rider, who are messengers for the King.  He had been shot in the back with two black arrows, and was dying.  He passes on his message to Karigan and says that she must get the message to the King at all costs, and fast.  Thus begins her adventures of getting the message to the king while being chased by the same people that had shot the arrows in the Green Rider's back.

It brought out the "Peter Pan Syndrome" in me, which is what I call this sense of adventure that makes me want to run away and never grow up.

The book ended and though it didn't have a cliffhanger I thought some things might have been left unfinished.  Following a hunch I looked it up, and sure enough it was a trilogy!  I was excited 'cause I wasn't ready for the story to be over, but I finished book three and that ended with unfinished business as well.  I did a little more research and found out there was a fourth book that hasn't come out yet!  What the crap- the first book came out over 10 years ago!  I thought I was safe, but I suppose it's to be the curse of my book selections.

So help me if there's a 5th book . . .

Speaking of waiting a long time for sequels, I preordered my copy of Mockingjay!

Can you hear the angels singing?

This is the 3rd book in the Hunger Games, and I had to wait for the 2nd and now 3rd book!  Very excited to finally get the conclusion.

Anyway, that's what has been keeping me occupied, what has been keeping you occupied?

Love you.

Taco Night

Admittedly I'm not much of a cook.  But tacos are magnificently easy.  One pound of hamburger, one packet of taco seasoning and my significant other thinks I'm the greatest cook in the world.

Little does he know it's simple.  I'll just let him continue to think it's complicated.

I made tacos a couple of nights ago and we were enjoying these fabled tacos when from underneath the table I heard a frantic struggle to breathe coming from one of my pets.  I popped my head down below and confirmed it was Brighton.  His momentary struggle for air passed quickly enough, but I knew exactly what happened.

Bre:  "What did you feed him?  Please tell me it was lettuce, I beg for you to tell me it was cheese."

Jordan:  *Nothing*

Bre:  "Jordan, you can't feed the dogs the hamburger, who knows what kind of spices are in those packets." 

Jordan:  "He likes it."

Bre:  "He also likes his own poo."

Jordan:  *Shrugs as if to say 'Ya got me there.'

Bee tee dubs, onions are really bad for dogs (at least that is the word on the street) and I would be surprised if onion powder wasn't in taco seasoning.

There is a silver lining:

1. Jordan has probably built up the dogs' immunity to harmful food items by giving them little bits of whatever they ask for since they were pups.

2. Because they know Jordan is the weaker one, they only beg from him, and I can eat in peace.

3. If the pups ever get diarrhea , Jordan has to clean it up 'cause it's pretty much a guarantee that it was caused by something he fed them.

I think I'm smarter in my sleep

I'm not generally good at problem solving, and particularly not in a traumatic situation.  In my dreams, though I'm calm, cool and collected and could get us out of any jam.

A couple nights ago I had a dream that the world was ending.  The Sun had exploded creating a black hole, (I'm not sure on the accuracy of said statements) and this happened during my family reunion, so we were all camping and sitting under a big wooden pavilion .  After it rained fire, the pavilion caught on fire, but we didn't have any water, or any way to get the fabled water onto the roof of the pavilion to douse the flames should we have any.  So I stuck my niece on my brothers shoulders, grabbed a 2 liter of root beer and gave it a big ol' shake-shake-shake and told her to open it up pointing towards the flames.  She opened it and the root beer shooting out reached the higher flames while I grabbed a second bottle and worked on the lower flames.

If that had been real, and our only apocalypse shelter lit on fire I would say Holy freak- there's a fire and we have no water!  Whatever are we to do?!  And then panic, and then probably die.  Never would I think to shoot super powered root beer into the flames.

When I was younger and having a nightmare, maybe being chased by monsters or taken hostage by mobsters, I always dropped to my knees and said a prayer and woke up.  It was the weirdest thing, but every single time I had a nightmare I would pray my way out of it, and now I don't really get nightmares.

Usually any good idea for a story I have comes from my dreams.  I will wake up and think, that it a perfect storyline for a book!  I should write it so I see what happens next.  I never would have been able to come up with a plot like that as my waking self.

So I've come to the conclusion that my subconscious is more sure-headed and clever, more faithful and creative than I could ever be.  I think my subconscious is holding out on me.