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A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 2) |
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Jenn the Recruit has 87 comments Angel the Recruit has 74 comments Caity the Recruit has 55 comments 
Christina the Novice has 28 comments Angie the Novice has 26 comments Sarah the Novice has 24 comments Keeshia the Novice has 24 comments Haley the Novice has 21 comments Danika the Novice has 20 comments Ashley the Novice has 20 comments 
May 14, 2011
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Apr 26, 2011
I am a proud woman. Always have an always will be. It is a trait that runs deep within my family and is dangerous amongst our kind as we tend to refuse to swallow our prides and admit when we’re wrong. This is how you know we care. How you know we love you; when we are able to swallow our pride, show our weakness and say, “I was wrong.”
The same goes with fear and worry. We aren’t prone to showing these emotions. It’s not something the Greer’s do so when we do, you should know that the love we have for you runs deep, really deep.
This past week has really allowed me to evaluate my feelings for the man I am committed to. We’ve had our ups and downs, our bumps in the road, some so big it’s a surprise that we’ve survived them and yet, despite our differences, our issues, our doubts, the moment I thought I might lose him is the moment when I realized that I have always loved him. Even in the moments when I thought my feelings had changed and the dark times in our life when I was sure it was over. I love that man more than he probably knows and more than I have the capacity to show– at least not in the way most people would understand, so I show it the best way I know how, through worry, through fear and through weakness because I trust and love him enough to know he wouldn’t take advantage of that, of me.
I can say that there has been a marked improvement since last week, however I still worry and I’m still fearful. The chest pain while no longer constant returns occasionally and it seems he can’t exert himself too much1 or the pain returns. The fact that no one knows what is causing it, worries me. I can’t fight what I can’t see and I am terrified. That’s not something that is easy for me to admit but that’s the truth. I smile at him and kiss him and hold him like everything is okay but internally I’m struggling not to yell and scream at the cardiologist demanding that he figure it out. I don’t like unknowns, I don’t like what ifs, and I don’t like feeling helpless– you can imagine just how much this it taking a toll on me. Sleep to say the least has been restless at best. I find no matter how much I sleep, I’m exhausted and recently I’ve taken to doubling up on my reading as a means to escape that which I cannot fight.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m glad he’s doing better. Relieved in some part that the pain has receded but frustrated and angry that I cannot heal him completely and even more so at the fact that we have no idea why it’s happening or what’s causing it.
What I do know is this: I have never in my life felt as strongly for any man or person as I have for him and no matter the outcome, whatever this blight is that has struck our lives, I will fight with everything I have and never give up. We will make it through, there is no other option.
Dec 19, 2010
December 19 – Healing. What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011? (Author: Leonie Allan)
If I’m honest, I don’t think anything has and to be frank, I think I’m probably worse off emotionally than I was in 2009. There’s a lot that contributes to this. Most of the time I feel alone and like I’m drowning because no matter what steps I take to try and get better, to do better I feel like it’s not enough. I feel like I’m not enough and most recently I feel like an utter failure. I know it’s silly to think that I can do everything on my own, especially with this particular issue, but I should be able to, damnit. As unrealistic as that sounds, I should. I guess in more ways than one, I count on myself to be superwoman just as much as those around me, but the thing is I’m not and when I’m hit with that reality, I don’t deal well, I’m not dealing well.
I can’t say I will be healed next year. It’s going to take a lot of change from someone in particular to help in that process, but I can say that I have noticed a change in my behavior. I’ve stopped holding it in. I’ve stopped worrying about hurting his feelings by telling him exactly what I think, because you know what, he damn sure doesn’t care about hurting me– I don’t know if I should laugh at my freedom or cry at the realization that the respect I deserve, isn’t the respect I’m given.
Dec 18, 2010
I’ve always been a very tiny person. It’s not something that I actively do on purpose it’s just in my genes and despite that, I still get crap from those around me about my tiny size—which in case you didn’t know, I HATE. In any regard, it was a rise of concern for my dad when I was younger and he pretty much did everything possible to try and “fatten” me up, short of trying the human growth hormone, which was pretty a good thing because who knows what human growth hormone side effects I would have endured.
In any event, I think he finally came to a point in his life where he realized that there wasn’t anything he could really do. It was in my genetics and short of manipulating my genetic coding his efforts were in vain. While I appreciate his concern and understand what he was trying to do, I have to admit it was probably one of the most humiliating times of my life. I felt like something was truly wrong with me and I couldn’t do anything about it, not matter how much I wanted to. I felt awful and anytime someone brings up how tiny I am it brings all those memories flooding back again.
So if I do happen to get bitchy at the mention of my weight, even if it’s just something done in jest, now you know why. I don’t like to be tiny and believe me if I had my way I’d much rather be on the heavier side so all the attention is taken from how tiny I am… maybe in a perfect world. 
Sep 22, 2010
I have never had the best relationship with my parents. In fact as a child I hardly knew them. My mother was constantly absent and my father, unable to cope with her absence succumbed to drowning his pain with alcohol.
I grew up raised by my maternal grandmother and nannies. My sisters and I are close because we only had one another to lean on and couldn’t count on our parents to be there. It’s a sad truth but one I have long since come to terms with.
When I was a child, I remember the first day of kindergarten. I was so excited, so happy. My mother did what any mother would do on the first day of school for her child- she walked me to the bus stop and saw me off. It wasn’t until later that day when I realized I was of no importance—when I realized that her friends meant more to her than I ever could.
I recall the bus pulling up and looking out the window searching for her. Eager to tell her about my day, about my teacher and about the students in my class. I looked out that window for her. I looked so hard that I think for a brief moment I imagined she was there and yet, the moment I stepped off that bus, I knew she wasn’t and it broke my heart. 
As I grew older, I learned that the only people I could rely on was myself and my sisters. I never asked my parents for things I needed– though a large part of that was a result of my mother brainwashing us into believing our dad would get so angry with us if we did. So if there was something I needed, I resulted to stealing it—from classmates, from the stores, from whoever or whatever place had it. The alternative in my eyes was worse.
Growing up is a memory that I try not to revisit. My dad eventually stopped the drinking and my mother for a time was a mother, but as with most Aquarians, she rebelled against being chained and let her friends delude her into believing she deserved more. I recall the day that she left. It’s so clear in my mind and ironically enough, even then my intuition was a force to be reckoned with.
My dad had just returned from deployment and they got in a fight because she wanted to go play Bingo and he felt that she didn’t care that he was back. In some ways she didn’t. I remember watching her walk out that door and feeling unease. Like I knew in my heart she wasn’t coming back. The next morning I was the first one to wake up and the first thing I did was look out the window to see if the car was there. It wasn’t. At the time I didn’t think much of it; I supposed I hoped that maybe she just spent the night at a friend’s.
And then my dad walked out of his room and I knew. He sat us all down and told us that my mother had just called and that she wasn’t coming back. My world shattered and I had to fight to catch my breath.
The divorce wasn’t pleasant. My mother wanted to split us up. She wanted the oldest children, but my dad fought against it. He ended up winning the custody battle but he lost in the sense that he was forced to pay spousal support and that resulted in losing our house. We moved on base and the custody agreement was that my mother got us every other weekend. At the time she was my world, my idol and every weekend that rolled around when we were allowed to see her would elate me—but as with all things, that never lasted.
She would tell us that she was coming to get us and I would pack and sit on the couch, waiting. I would wait for hours on end, until I realized that she wasn’t coming, my heart broke every time. After a while a hardness set inside me and I stopped waiting. That hardness is still inside me today.
Today, my relationship with my dad is still not that great, but it’s not terrible. While it’s not strained as it once was– years ago, it’s also not something to celebrate over. A large part of that has to do with the fact that I’m honest and he doesn’t really like to hear what he needs to be told and so our conversations aren’t very in depth or really much of anything, if I’m honest.
I love my dad. I love him for the man he is and his strength in raising my sisters and me. He has his faults, but at the end of the day, he fought for us when he didn’t have to and I respect him for that. Most men would have walked away– my dad was not that man.
My mother is—well she’s my mother. I’m no longer angry for the things she did but I haven’t forgiven her entirely either. I have to come to accept who she is and as a result have resolved never to trust the words that come from her mouth, but I do still love her, even if that’s not something I’ll readily admit.
I believe my parents did the best they could do with us, given their circumstances. I know my dad tried his best. He tried to do right by us and I know he loves us very much, even if it’s only in the way he knows how.
That still doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t break each time I see a mother and her daughter laugh together or a father run to his daughter’s side when she is lost and doesn’t know what to do and help to guide her. That still doesn’t mean that I’m not envious of the relationships others have with their parents, but I guess we can’t have it all—but looking back on my past, I wonder if I ever really had anything.
Feb 25, 2010
Last night was probably one of the crappiest nights of my life. I’m currently taking Fundamentals in Programming Using Algorithms and Logic and I’m not doing that great. Currently I have a C+ which for those who know me, is crap in my eyes. This class though, has been the hardest class I’ve had to take and as a result this is the second time I am taking it. Anyway, last night I was completing the homework assignment that was due (a peer review) when I happened to re-read the syllabus and realized that the assignment I turned in last Sunday, I had turned in incorrectly. I was supposed to post it in my individual forum as an attachment, however for some reason I goofed and posted it as post. This is a 90 point assignment. I resubmitted the assignment as an attachment last night; however if the instructor chooses to dock me on points (which I would understand if he did) the assignment would be 3 days late and I have no idea what points I would be entitled. If that is the case, it will drop my grade significantly, which means I will have to earn as many points if not all the points on my upcoming assignments to pass the class.
My biggest concern is the final, as it is worth 250 points. I’m afraid I’m going to fuck up royally on that and as a result fail the course and have to dish out $1,035 to retake it. I had a break down after the fact, went into the bedroom and cried. Robby sought me out and consoled me and we talked about a lot of things. One of which was that we were going to sit down on Saturday and work through my final, second of which is to get more serious about blogging and freelance writing so I can bring in a bit more money for us and eventually, hopefully start doing some product reviews like Jenn. I found out today that we are no longer allowed to jump (work when they’re busy and need extra people) so my decision to cut my hours to 20 hours to avoid having to work until 8:00pm, has backfired and as a result, the only way I can make up the hours is by picking up shifts. There are a few people who are willing to let me do this, however I’m not sure how long that will last once they see their paychecks. It’s frustrating and as a result I am frantically looking for a job that will work, given our situation. For the most part I have given up on the at home jobs as it seems the pay isn’t substantial enough to sacrifice a commute for (at least not until Robby starts making more money). In addition my working in town would mean that Robby and I can carpool which means it won’t take him as long to get to work or as long to get home– though that in itself is a problem. We only have one vehicle so I am limited to jobs around where he works, that are based around the same hours. It’s frustrating to say the least but I’m not giving up!
I have also decided to get more serious about web and graphic design. Years ago it was my passion. Now? I’m lucky if I open Photoshop within the month. I am determined though to see this through. I’m currently relearning CSS with the help of Whitters, who has been so kind to elaborate and explain what I do not understand. I am actually surprised at how quickly I’m grasping it; though that’s all in theory. We’ll see how it goes when I’m actually coding a WordPress theme by hand without referencing other site’s coding as examples. 
Next on my list is PHP. I bought a book before we moved out here because I wanted to learn but have only picked it up once or twice, if that. I know it’s bad but I get so easily discouraged as I am so used to picking up on things rather easily that when I am not able to do so within a few tries, I give up. It’s a bad philosophy which I am attempting to change and given my new found attitude I think I will be successful. So my list of things to do and hopefully I will have accomplished some or at least started some by the next time I blog:
- Relearn CSS
- Design and code a WordPress theme freehand
- Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator- use them, damnit!
- Learn PHP
And most importantly… pass my fucking class. *facepalm*
