Reading Kills.

As I sit at my desk on this lovely, warm May morning, I can see a faint breeze rustling through the green lush of spring, reaching up to the bluest sky of the season. The birds are chirping with new life from above and the air is fresh and free.

I can see it all from the window on the other side of the office....

Okay, that was a little dramatic. The window is only a few feet away. You know what my problem is? Books. And maybe a little bit of Disney, but mainly books.

I don't view the changing seasons as a simple natural cycle, I see the world through romanticism and L.M. Montgomery's eyes. I can hear the swelling sounds of a BBC film when I think about weddings. Men are weighed to the goodness of Austen's Darcy,  F. Wentworth, and Mr. Knightly. I mean, really. They're fake. Nobody can compare to a fictional character.

The truth is, I have done this most of my life unconsciously. I blame this entirely on books. Not to say these books are evil, or wrong to read. But maybe I have been missing the point. The men in these stories married wonderful women. The Witty Eliza Bennett, Forgiving Anne, and the Reformed Emma. Could I have been focused on the wrong characters?

The answer: Yes. Well, maybe not. Wait.. Hold on. I have to think about this.

How many women fantasize over the romance of the century, and wholly expect some dude to sweep her off her feet. Or awaken her from her slumber? What makes us think this poor dude wants to pick us up after we sat around eating ice cream with our favorite Austen? Or wake us up? Let's face it, we all have nasty breath when we wake up. So this guy has to be on steroids or something to heave us out of our helpless state, blind to our dragon like appearance upon awakening, and immune to equally dragon like breath...

Even for me, a single girl, that sounds a little rough on a poor guy.

There is a tiny voice telling me that I should have been spending more time on myself, cause lets face it, I am no Anne Shirley. I don't even know how my hair would look red. Probably terrible. Or amazing. Who knows, that's besides the point. The point is I should have been using those wonderful novels as a way to reflect upon myself.

*Reminder: These books are fake and should not be used as a guide. Repeat ladies. Fake. Not a guide.

What is the guide?

"But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you" Matthew 6:33 NKJV

The first step is here, and every other step will follow. I see so many young girls in the church make marriage they're sole mission in life, when there is so much more that God has planned for us. Marriage is something we should desire, God created it! But we often forget that marriage is not a destiny, it is the stepping stone to a calling.

I know, we still want that fairytale romance, I wrote this mostly to myself, I am one of the worst offenders. I can recite Pride & Prejudice line for line. I love BBC...*Sigh*. Seriously, Pray for me. Just writing about it makes me wanna go read the books again...

Cause she's the coolest!

True Warriors.

It's April. The same month Disney's Bambi was born. Did he die at the end of the movie? I can never remember...

Speaking of births, I am going to be an Aunt. My sister is about to pop and I am so excited! My own little nephew. He is either going to be insanely terrified of me, or think I am the coolest thing since the death of the bell bottoms fad. The second one...in the 90's.

Ahhh.... Materfamilias. The Matriarchal figure. The one with an extra celebratory day...

Is that really necessary though? Not that I am the one questioning it. That's just the attitude society has adopted. I won't even mention the lackluster of Father's Day.

In light of the many upcoming births within my circle, I have decided to write an ode to all mothers in honor of their wonderful sacrifices. Also, mothers day is next month and I want to have it ready, just in case I forget to buy something...


Oh Gee, Oh Wow,  it's finally time
you've told me once, you've told me twice
(though never would I without sigh),
To clean and vacuum this room of mine.

Tomorrow day will come and go
and chores will stack a mile high
you beckon and call without reply
continue to ignore, bravely I go

Heed not to your voice, i am alright
there's a new game to play instead
if i get up now ill surely be dead
building my XP will take all night

A sudden violent twist of ear
a grand miracle has taken place
a loving mom with a hand of grace
"were you calling me ma? I could not hear!"

You know, I am not really liking the direction this poem is going so I'm just going to stop right there.

Mother's have babies, who turn into little monsters who turn into preteen monsters, you see a cycle here? Any way, my point is, they deserve this. Maybe even more, seriously. Kids are monsters. Very terrifying, loud, smelly monsters.

So, brave warriors, we salute you. Well, not like, today, but on mothers day... you know, next month.....