I've been advised to offer an advisory warning to the following so I will since I respect the person who gave the advice; not all men in the world treat women with such disregard, it just seems to me lately that me and my friends have been coming across these kinds of fellows with increasing regularity, so with that warning here is my blog.

"Perhaps they see us not as people but as playthings....."

When it comes to men, I wonder if this statement could not be truer. Men would rather look at a woman than talk to her; they would rather play with her emotions rather than remember she is a tender creature easily broken. It is easy to think of what we are supposed to be, what we are told we should be as women; strong and willing to rival a man in industry and sport, but is that really what we want? It is easy to say we want to be treated equally, but when it comes to love what is our condition? Do we not long for a man who will open the door for us, think every part of our being as precious and wonderful as we do theirs?

"It is not what we say or feel that makes us who we are, it is what we do, or fail to do"

These words were said tonight by a young woman whom one would least expect to make such a statement. Marianne Dashwood was ruled by her emotions and thought the love she felt for Willoughby was true and good. Maybe it was, but it was based on a series of events and moments where Willoughby could seduce a young woman into believing almost anything. Maybe as women, we want to believe everything and that is why the Willoughby's make such a mockery of us.
Maybe we no longer believe that Mr. Darcy, Captain Wentworth, Edward Ferrars, and John Knightly's exist. Can such men exist in a world that screams at us to listen to the Willoughby's and Henry Crawford's of the world? Live by your emotions and be swept off your feet at the first sign a man pays attention to you.

What is that deep longing that stirs inside a woman when a man leans in to listen to what she is saying? What unknown desire is awakened when he says a kind word without provocation? How do we live with ourselves knowing there is so much more out there and yet find ourselves willing to settle for the rake that deigns to settle himself upon us.

Maybe we are playthings, the in between filler they wait for until the woman they want returns their glance. She could be a long lost love, or just someone whose circumstances will guarantee their happiness; whoever she is, wherever she is, may we not allow ourselves to be her understudy. As a modern woman trying to find oneself in the maze of equality and femininity, let us be mindful that there are moments in time where we know with our whole being that this George Wickham is no Fitzwilliam Darcy, and no piece of clothing or airs to be had will change the fact that our souls only stir when the real thing glances at us.

Diane and me









Janet and I

















Diane Jack Daniels me
































duck on Griffith



















my baby sister came to town the week of my birthday and it was great fun to see her and show her my Nashville. Our 'big' trip was down to Lynchburg and the Jack Daniels Distillery. It was free which is always a plus, and it was a nice time to be had. Also during the week my dear friend Janet treated us to tea at Miss Mable's as a lovely break in an otherwise hectic week for her. She has always been infinitely kind, and I will miss her more than she knows once she is whisked away to Ann Arbor by her very very smart husband.

there are more pictures on my flickr pg and my picssa pgs, if you need those links, you know how to find me. :)

All types of Willoughby's

I have been back handedly insulted by a boy tonight. He is practically perfect except the fact he is an ass; an unmitigated ass. It is hard to know if this fellow is friend or foe. He will talk, but nothing serious, he will ask for things with not a hint of gratitude, and quite a different person depending on who you speak to. I suppose that if I cannot decide than he is quite a foe.

Also speaking of Willoughby, the new version of Sense and Sensibility is on pbs tonight, part one tonight where we are introduced to all the characters and all the twists and turns. This Willoughby while not as dashing as the Ang Lee version, decides that Lord Byron is much more romantic than Shakespeare. Indeed, Lord Byron is perfectly romantic and much more so than Pope. (sigh) While friendship is always acceptable, particular reasons for showing ladies inside Allenham is always lovely.

Religion and Philosophy


I have had one of the most eye opening conversations tonite that I have had in a long time. I contributed little to the conversation, but things people said have me thinking so I am going to pose this question. Answer if you wish here or you can email me, most of you guys have an email address for me. It leaves me thinking....

Why do I go to church?

Being Sick

There are few benefits to being ill. There are people who feel bad for you and therefore want to offer aid if necessary, the days off of work, although you feel guilty for missing work and worry about the work you will have piled up when you return, and the hours in bed or on the couch. These particular moments can be a pleasure if you allow. First, you have to get over the guilt of lying on the couch and doing nothing. You are sick, so gather your tissues, a paper bag to throw those tissues in after various uses, a large glass of water, a small glass of juice, and any sort of medicine that is fulfilling its purpose. Then there is the task of finding what to watch on television. There is the usual dribble that panders to the at home crowd on a variety of channels. Then the 24hr news channels, but it is not this that will provide comfort to you in your misery. A select genre allows for the ease of mind that one finds a necessity in illness.

This genre allows you to escape into a world where women wore long dresses with high waists, men wear top hats and breeches, parents’ angle for that perfect mate, and younger sisters generally make pests of themselves. The Austenian novel transformed to the big screen (or small screen depending on which you watch) gives one the perfect excuse to recline on the couch and wistfully wile away a day or three and lose oneself in the joys and misery of Jane, Elizabeth, Darcy and Bingley, Emma and Mr. Knightly, Edmund and Fanny, Marianne, Eleanor, Edward, and Willoughby. There are more and there are variations on the more, but there is nothing like the wit and intellect that Austen put in her novels to cheer even the most feverish of souls.

Of course, my personal favorite-without question Pride and Prejudice BBC/A&E production that came out in the 90’s. I still remember the first time I saw it, I was living with a dear friend, and she absconded it from her mother for us to watch. I had pneumonia in late spring and in its VHS form, I was afforded an hr on each tape to watch Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett verbally spar with each other and their friends and family. I lay on the couch for days switching out the tapes or rewinding them if I fell asleep before I saw the scene I was waiting for on that particular tape. Now I can watch it on DVD and only have to change the disc once. There is still comfort in watching Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett go back and forth with each other even though now I too can join in the fun by quoting the dialogue to an empty house.

While I never wish myself ill, I find solace in the happiness that will be experienced from a day or two on the couch and Jane as my most trusted companion.

It is late and I am at school, but I have not blogged in a while so here we go. First, I am so close yet so far from a thesis topic that it is insane! But, I have a good chunk of the faculty here at school pretty excited about my potential topic that I am starting to get excited, but also nervous that I may be biting off more than I can chew. (Guess that is how they weed out the weak though) Secondly, it is the holiday in retail land and I am holding on for dear life trying to just get through. I want to finish the semester strong and then get a good handle on the thesis proposal, but I am beginning to feel like I am letting everyone down. The third thing is the whole kick that the christian world seems to be on about community. Personally I am quite sick of it. Mostly because it is kinda silly. we sit around in our circles talking about how great community is, but then when someone falls off the face of the earth for a month there are no questions, no accountability just nice to see you. It is hard to believe that there is a true sense of community amoungst Christians when no one notices that your gone.

Yes, I know you are all wondering what this grand thesis topic is going to be...well I am not going to post it on the Internet for all to see. the world of English Literature is quite competitive and one has to keep the slight advantage all that they can. But, if you ask nicely I will tell you privately.

cheers
c-

decisions...

It is strange as we grow how our decisions change. When we are little some of the biggest decisions we have to make is to decide between McDonald's and pizza or Twinkies or hoho's. Of course out first major decision is college and while we seem to think that it is a make or break decision; as we grow we realise that it really wasn't.

Then we continue to age and of course a career begins to form and we try to make decisions that will lead us in that direction. yet, there is something, sometimes in the back of our brains that nags every once in a while...what if? What if I do this where could it lead? What if I do this instead...will it change everything or only one thing?

Can you tell yet what I have been thinking about the past few days? I have a job offer coming my way that would make my life easier because I would only have one job and in 6 months could attend graduate school for essentially little to no cost. Then there is what I am currently doing which is working two jobs sometimes three and paying for graduate school on my own. Now I know most of you reading this would say duh do the one job, but is it really that easy? I had to beg for one of the jobs I have now and I gave my word that I would give a years commitment to this position. The other job I have literally just begun and I already enjoy it and the people so much. It is a new challenge, but one that I have been looking to for a while.

Besides we all know that I hae never taken the easy way to anything. Is that because there was no easy way or because of the things I had set myself up for? Then again where does providence fit into all of this?

Robert Frost's poem The Road not Taken has been something I have been pondering this evening. Is the narrator really sorry that they chose the road they did? What does he mean by the wearing on the road was about the same? Is there regret in the narrator's tone or a wistfulness?

I have placed the poem here so you too may venture a guess. Of course it goes without saying that your prayers and encouragement is always most welcome. There are no new pics because well I have not taken any. maybe soon. maybe not.



TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Change again...

I know I have mentioned this before, but I do not like change. One of my best est friends in the whole world moved to the other side of the world earlier this week and I feel lost. I unintentionally spent the whole day with him the day he left. I went there to day good bye with the intention of being there 20 minutes tops, but 5 hrs later I left. I was so proud of myself I did not shed one tear until the very end. Even when he somehow talked me into packing his suitcases and running to his neighbors house to borrow a scale I did not cry. Right now it just seems like he is on one of his trips to south Dakota or Birmingham, not the other side of the world.

Yet, as I type this crying for me or him I do not which one yet. I find myself pondering my future. Maybe it is not Nashville for me either. If the current plan works out (a BIG if these days) I hope to find myself in England or Scotland next fall for school. That in itself is an unimaginable change, but one I keep hoping for with increasing anticipation. I even ponder things in my house to sell to help get me there.

So there it is. My blog for now.

I do not brag about things I do very often but I love these pictures. I have been carrying my camera around with me and when I was having a picnic lunch with my friend Janet I snapped these pictures of the Parthenon in Centennial Park here in Nashville.

It was a cool April Saturday and then sun was playing peek-a-boo so that is how some of the shadows and glares came about. Janet and I walked the little trail around the park for awhile.

You will have to scroll down through the previous two postings to see all the pictures because it was easier to post them bit by bit then to post them all at once.

Let me know what you think...good or bad all critiques welcome! Enjoy!!!

The first pic is of Hore Abbey from the Rock of Cashel.
The next two pictures are just of Hore Abbey. The following blog has more pictures of the abbey, I just found these and wanted them available for viewing also.

This is one of my favorite spots in all of Ireland. It is called Hore Abbey and it is nothing but a ruin sitting at the bottom of the Rock of Cashel.
it was founded in 1266 by Benedictine monks but the ruler of Cashel dreamed the monks were plotting to kill him so he destroyed their ordered and seized the land and brought in Ciscterian monks.
I thought this place was one of the best that we visited. I just loved the fact that these ruins were in the middle of a field literally untouched.
I LOVED the ceiling. It amazed me that such a wonder could still exist after 900 years.
i think I could have stayed there all day if Deborah had not reminded me that we were headed to the Cliffs of Mohr later that day.

less than 4 days

I am acting like the world is about to come to an end, but as far as I know it is not, I am just having a birthday in less than 4 days. It is a rather big birthday as these things tend to be. It is weird, even a month ago I was fine to me it was no big deal turning 30, but now I want to run and hide. Maybe it is such a big deal now because it is not going to be a big deal (if that statement makes sense.) Last year I was in Ireland and spent my birthday kissing the Blarney Stone and hanging at a pub with dear friends and amazing music. This year not so much.

I never understood people freaking out about turning 30, but I am beginning to. There is so much I have not done, or seen and almost half my life is over. I know we are not promised anything, but if you go by the standard age calculations these days...

I want to go back to Ireland that is. Go back and stay, if not there then England or southern France, anywhere in Europe where the history can be stood upon at any point in your day. Places where history is lived and not toured. A place maybe even to start fresh with only school loans hanging over my head and not the abject failure that things here seem to be.

things to ponder with less than 4 days to go...

PS: the pics are of my friend Deborah and I: one we are at the top of Blarney Castle and the other is with Blarney in the background. yes, I kissed the Blareny stone and I will not be posting those pics for public consumption, but if you want to see them email me and ask nicely and I will consider. :)

I hate change. It never has been one of the things that I can deal with. I am afraid of things that I cannot control and change is one of those things. Things change to quickly. I have had alot of friends move and get married in the past year and soon one of my dearest friends is moving to the middle of Europe. I am still in the same place I was ten years ago just ten years older and maybe a bit wiser.

I think some of this is because I am 6 days away from 30 and watching everyone around do something that I thought would have been me by now. I wonder if we truly hold ourselves back, or if the old adage of life is what goes on while we are trying to live is what this is. How did I find myself here? I think I have a few answers to that question, but the question that I truly what an answer to is how do I get myself there? Europe, grad school, a husband, a family, all of these things are good desires so why don't I want them?

I met a girl, a classmate actually who told me that she wants to teach at the college level more than anything and that that has been her drive for the past few years. She is incredibly intelligent and knows what she wants and what it takes to get there. She even knows that if she does not get accepted to a doctoral program this year that she can apply next year and use the in between time to work on publications etc.

Can will power really get me there or is there something I am missing?

Back to the friend moving to Europe. how do I tell them that I want them to be happy and go, but at the same time deal with losing them? I have leaned on them so much these past few months and now they have no time for me. I feel like a petulant child, but want this person to know how I feel. Of course one could ask if it would matter even if they did know. I am not asking them to not go, just to remember.

12:39am

That is the time I am writing this. There would be nothing special about that time in general. Most people are asleep in anticipation for the coming day, but I am awake. I have just cleaned up the flood from what one could consider a rather small washing machine, but it was a flood none the less. I am guessing that the water was running for about two hours before I got up to move the clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. Normally this would be a big deal in ones life. It is definitely an inconvenience that is for sure. Yet, this is the thing that at the moment is pushing me over the edge. I cannot sleep, i am not even tired. I guess this is one more thing that I can add to the list this year. The list of will it ever end? Sometimes I think if one more crappy thing happens what am I going to do? I know, I know I have it so much better than so many people in the world, but that is them and I am me.

I know this is not pictures of anything except what could be considered a whiny girl. I guess this is how I feel tonite.

I love this picture. It is my friend Deborah standing on the cliffs of Hook Head Peninsula in Ireland. It was so cold and sleeting that day, but it was such an amazing journey to this part of Ireland. We stopped at a pub for lunch and stopped at Jerepoint Abbey which you will see many pictures of on this page sooner or later. :) This day above all others was such a great day. The long car ride with Deborah out and back was a time of good long talks about painful things and of wonderful music. Derek Webb was on the ipod and two songs in particular I still remember; "Beloved" and "She Must and shall go free." I still listen to those songs and they take me back to this day. I could have stayed at this place forever. I felt such an amazing peace here. The wind was so cold and the rain soaked our coats, but at the same time with the sound of the sea gulls, and the roar of the crashing waves against the rocks and sand there was a silence that I cannot begin to explain. For the first time in months I really felt God telling me that I was going to be okay. The mess of the past year was still there and there was residual things to deal with, but for the first time in such a terribly long time I really felt God's presence resting in me.

For so long over the past few years I felt like the water just being thrown against the rocks without abandon. I felt helpless and then I realised I was helpless. That feeling was again driven home at the end of October when I had back surgery and lost my job all within two weeks. It has been good to look back at these pictures and remember the quiet in the storm. Those moments when the waves would be sucked back out to the sea by the tide and even the seagulls and wind were still in those moments.

It is still Monday the 20th of March. This blog really should be after the next one, but I am not quite that good of a blogger yet to figure out how all that works. :( Any way this picture is in my top ten of favorite pictures from Ireland. this saying is directly before you walk into St. Mary's. I think it sums up every feeling I had in Ireland. St. Mary's is still a working church. Deborah told me that there is no government money for these old churches /buildings. The congregations pay for the upkeep of the buildings. Some places charge a small fee to enter and look around and some just rely on donations.



One thing you will notice is that I took a lot of pictures of the windows. The middle picture is of the windows on the side of the church directly above a place where someone is buried.
The bottom picture is of paintings on the walls. If I remember correctly they are near the altar area.
The next picture is of the altar. This altar dates back to the Protestant Reformation. It had been taken out of the church but it was brought back.



This is the outside of the church. Even in the middle of the city this was a very quiet spot.

There are of course LOTS more pictures from this day. Deborah and I went and had tea at the museum and walked to King John's Castle and through it and under it and over it, but I am TRYING to be selective. I know some of you don't want to see them all and those of you who do will just have to invite me to tea. :) 

It is amazing what I can take a picture of sometimes. This picture is why I like the window seat so much. I took this picture after waking up from a long plane ride across the Atlantic. It is Monday March 20,2006. All of the pictures on this blog are from this day.
This picture is of King John's Castle in Limerick.
These are four different views of St. Mary's Cathedral in Limerick. After I landed at 7:30 in the morning Deborah and I decided that a nap was in order. After a lovely nap we went walking around Limerick. It is a nice medium size town with a river running through it.
This plaque and flower are on the corner wall of St. Mary's. I liked the saying so I took a picture of it and the flower directly below it. 

Coming here very soon I hope will be pictures I took in Ireland. Of course I have to find the time to scan them to my computer and then download them to the net but maybe soon some of them will be here. For now here is one picture with Deborah, Blayne, their friend Charlene and myself at Dolen's a pub in Limmerick. We were there on a Saturday nite and it was PACKED!! Deborah, Blayne and myself all went back on Sunday so I could actually hear the music. If you recieved a postcard from me this is where I wrote it.

more to come...