Getting on my soapbox. . .

I'll be honest: I generally try to stay away from politics on the internet, and here's why.
1) Things get easily misconstrued.
2) The internet is great for many things, but a political debate - where body language, tone, and physical gestures are very important - is not one of those things.
3) People don't forget, but even if they do, your name is there along with your thoughts forever. Facebook comments are never really deleted.
That being said, I'm going to stand up on my little soapbox and put my name next to my thoughts and opinions.
Okay, now that being said, I am not here to make anyone mad.
I am not here to make enemies.
I am not here to step on anyone's digital digits.
I am here to try to persuade you to come around to my way of thinking, which - to be fair - is what every one does.
That's how people respectfully agree to disagree.
Now.
I am going to give my opinion of what's going on in the government of the United States right now, which you and I have every right to do: we're paying for it.
To do this, I will be heavily referencing the Phantom of the Opera, so buckle up and grab your capes -- we're going for a ride.
This may read a bit like a literary interpretation essay, but I promise you it's not.
I'd never get a grade on this.

Now, let's start at the very beginning.

For those who may not be Phans, I shall give you the bare, bare bones of what's actually a somewhat convoluted plot.
The Phantom has long since seduced Christine Daae into thinking that he is heaven-sent. She performs for him, she adores him, and she'd do anything for him. The pinnacle of their success is when she's at the top of her game. He takes her to his home (not for the first time, curse you Webber -- mea culpa, but your score was fantastic, every pun intended) and she begins to see what he truly is: not the angel he claimed he was, for starters.
Her childhood love, Raoul, shows up as a foil (contrast) to the Phantom. He truly loves Christine, and is more than a little worried about her obsession with some 'angel', even though she swears he's really what he says he is.
The Phantom does not get his casting choices approved for the next opera. He decides to show his acute displeasure by dropping the giant, 7-ton chandelier on the audience, killing some random woman. A freak accident.
Christine begins to really see who he is, though part of her still loves him. Raoul takes steps against him, and plans a way to show everyone what he really is. Long story short, it works. He's exposed, and slinks away, and the opera house is freed of his terror.
There are stories he fled to New York, but that's another subject entirely.

Where am I going with this?
Here.
I'm gonna name names, so if this offends you, I'm sorry, but this is my honest, thought-through opinion.

Obama has ideologically seduced mainstream media to follow him blindly, just as the Phantom seduced Christine. The mainstream media - like Madame Giry - sheilds him, makes excuses for him, and gives out his instructions. The first chandelier crash? I'd say that was Benghazi, the first 'mistake' with consequences of lives lost. That's when people kinda started to wake up, but it wasn't enough. I think this whole healthcare thing is hitting close enough to home that people are beginning to really figure out what is really going on.
The make believe is at an end.

The real question is, though, what's next?

"But I just wanna help. . ."

I'm pretty sure we've all said that at some point in our lives.

To most of us, the desire to help seems natural, almost impulsive.

We have to do it.

We want to do it.

And sometimes most of the time, we can't.

Not in the way we wanted to, not as much as we wanted to, or sometimes just not at all.

I saw this the other day on Pinterest:

It reminded me of a time where I was trying to help two individuals, but it just seemed like every time I tried, I hit a brick wall. I felt like I was giving, and giving, and giving, and giving, and it was just going nowhere.

One simply wasn't listening to advice - and instead making me their personal shrink complaining about problems they could have prevented, not if they'd listened to me, but if they'd used a bit of wisdom and common sense - and the other was simply convinced they couldn't forgive themselves for mistakes made in the past and that they couldn't change.

Needless to say, the fact that I wanted to help them so badly and I couldn't didn't exactly make me feel like a very good friend.

I felt like crap.

And that didn't help anyone.

That period ended, and those two friends and I just sort of . . . stopped.

Stopped everything.

Whether or not their situations got better or not, I don't know, and I'll probably never know.

I hope so.

All I wanted to do was help.

Fast forward about ten months.

I see that pin.

And I start thinking.

I realize that whoever made this pin is right.

You can't help everyone.

That's not to say your desire to or advice you may give isn't worth anything, but it just may not be what they need right then.

You may not have the experience, the knowledge, the skill, or the wisdom at that time to really help that person where they are.

But there's Someone who can.

And last time I checked, He takes referrals.

But there are people you can help.

People that need your experience and wisdom from where you are to help them where they are.

You may find those people to be few and far between, but they're there.

While you may not be able to help everyone, you can help someone.

And it's the someones of this life that count the most in the next.

Blessing the Lord

There's this song, you may have heard it, it's called "10,000 Reasons".

I can't remember the first time I heard it, but I remember thinking, "Oh, I should go download this when I get home" because it was a good song and I liked it. 

Well, I forgot to download it.

Naturally.

Well, the next time (of note) that I heard it was at a funeral for a baby.

I was so emotional that I couldn't even sing it.

But I was thinking.

We can't just bless the Lord when we have everything. When everything's nice and sunny. When we have everything we need.

We need to bless Him when He takes gifts away. When He teaches us lessons. When He allows pain in our lives.

Because whoever said "God will never give you more than you can handle" was wrong.

God will never allow you to be tempted beyond what He gives you an escape.

And God gives us more than we can handle to teach us to depend on Him for everything.

And that tender, nurturing love is truly blessable.

My (Mis) Adventure in the Realm of Cuisine - Part III

This isn't so much of a misadventure as it is total ignorance. 

Me and my dad went to Olive Garden last night, and somehow I got to thinking about tablespoons and teaspoons. 

Now, why do we have a teaspoon, half a teaspoon, a fourth of a teaspoon, and an eighth of a teaspoon, but only just a tablespoon?

Me and my dad started to discuss that, but we were working on the (erroneous) presumption that one tablespoon equals two teaspoons. 

(My mother has since corrected us; it's three teaspoons to one tablespoon, but that furthers my point.)

Why is there not a half a tablespoon?

I guess that'd be one and a half teaspoons, but really?

And that brought to my mind this: what do Europeans and -- well, pretty much everyone but Americans -- use when they cook?

Do they use cups and tablespoons?

Or is there some Metric equivalent?

. . . Or am I just over analyzing this?

You know that feeling?

That feeling when you've accomplished this great and awesome feat?

That feeling when you know the worst is behind you?

That feeling that you look forward to during the hard times?

That feeling that's euphoric?

That feeling when you finish a four page paper on the Odyssey?

Yeah, me too. 

And yes, I am perfectly aware that this is a TON of gifs, but it's nearly 1 AM, and if you'd spent an entire day on this paper, you'd be using all these gifs too. 

(Failed?) Attempts at Philosophy: Exile

I don't know how I got to thinking about this, but exile is a pretty stupid idea, isn't it?
Say somebody murders (not kills like in self-defense, but actually murders) somebody else.
Pick your method: poisoning, shooting, stabbing, strangulation, what have you -- the victim's dead either way.
So, the government is essentially saying this:

We should kill you because you killed someone else, but we're not going to kill you.
We're going to kick you out of our country, so now you're somebody else's problem.
But if you ever come back, we're going to kill you.

. . . Um . . . isn't that what you should have done in the first place?
Anyhoo . . . I guess this is what happens when you watch and listen to a lot of political stuff and have no school work to preoccupy your brain . . .

Already scared of next semester . . .

I just want to sit down and cry -- I don't know what to do about school. 

I thought I could handle 6 classes in one day and maybe I can . . . But 5 classes in a row? 3 English classes, 2 of which are 400-level? A sociology class, a history class, and a business? 

What the heck was I thinking, signing up for that? Oh . . . I probably wasn't thinking at all.

Come to think of it, I bet I know why this is.

I bet God's teaching me to not procrastinate.

He's teaching me to be diligent.

He's teaching me to take assignments seriously, although I already do. More seriously, I guess.

I just pray I can learn the lessons in time.

Sounds cool, BUT . . .

So, I'm in English class, and our professor is telling us how when he taught English as a second language in Spain, he didn't speak Spanish. He said that all you do is talk English to them the whole time.
Oh. My. Gosh.
I would feel so bad if I taught English abroad and totally confused some kids or some adult trying to learn English! Everyone hates it when you walk into Spanish class and the teacher starts talking at you in Spanish.
We hate that.
I would not want to do that . . .
But at the same time, it would be an excuse to watch American movies in class. You know, so they could learn English and all.
Hahahahaha, yeah, right!
I'd just bring a list of movies to class and have them vote on one every single week.

My Project for Tomorrow

Ever wanted to write a letter like this?

Pride and Prejudice, 2005.

Well, tomorrow, I'm going to experiment with different techniques of folding them, because Lizzie's letter from Jane was folded like this:

Pride and Prejudice, 2005.

If anyone wants, I can post picture tutorials on how to do it.
I'm also going to be working on making one of these:

http://bit.ly/zfcWJY.

Wish me luck!

Why knowing how much time is left in a movie should not be allowed

So today I was watching "Bride of Frankenstein".
The old one.
It was made in nineteen thirty . . . . something.
Anyhoo, I knew how long the movie was.
And it seemed to be taking FOREVER to get to the point: they only made the bride in the last 20 minutes,
I call that a rip-off.
But!
I was just thinking . . . which can be dangerous, but whatever.
I could sort of tell how the movie was going to end.
Why?
Because you can't do something complex in 20 minutes.
Unless it's "Inception", which it most certainly wasn't.
I could tell it was going to be a sort of sad ending, because how are you going to make, marry, and maroon (alliteration, sorry, I couldn't help it) a she-monster in 20 minutes? Especially when you spend about half that time going on and on about the storm?
(On that subject: why can't monsters ever be made on nice, sunny days? Maybe the atmosphere they were 'born' into had something to do with their later behavior?)
I digress.
I guess what I'm trying to get at is this: you shouldn't know how much time is left in a movie, because too many things are no longer mysterious or surprising because you can figure out what they do with X amount of time.
Unless it's "Inception".
Duh.