If you ever shop at Hot Topic or if you want to support dA artists, then please check out and her art. Here is her journal where you will find the links to the Hot Topic shirts. [link]

I have had almost no problems with harassment or disparaging comments of any kind in the almost three years that I have been here. dA is a wonderful place where I have many enduring friendships and I have improved my writing. Normally, if someone says something "immature" I simply block them and move on. I am 50 years old, and I have a teenage daughter, so I am not interested in online drama.

However, in the interest of freedom of expression, I will no longer follow this policy. I will report abuse and/or harassment to dA. If someone does not like my journals or poems or photography, they are free to move on to another artist.

Once again I've only had about 2 hours of sleep, and as I've said many times, the thoughts I have in these early hours are often the truest.

I've changed and I don't know if it's permanent and that alone scares me. I sort of gave up listening to music and writing poetry because I wanted to do my best in grad school this past semester. Ultimately, not sure it made a damn bit of difference.

I no longer find my Muse at some sacred place in time or space but I see his shadow....

I haven't listened to any new music in weeks nor have I written any semi-decent poetry. I haven't been very active on dA. Just escapist stuff on FB.
I'm not sure my heart would respond to any music. It doesn't respond to the moon in the sky anymore--only in a nostalgic, sad, reflective kind of way. I've tried watching things like P& and Winter Sonata and I feel flat. Is my heart dead?

It doesn't really matter. It's not like I'm some dormant poet waiting to be released from her prison of dreams.

__

dA is a very visual place even if you are a writer. In that case, your devID or the art you fave or whatever, you create a visual space for your identity and your work.

Quite a few years ago, I was really over weight. It was the sheer boredom of being home all the time. Things changed for me metaphysically and I lost so much weight. I looked like me again--just older--too late to be young, but healthier and freer in my spirit.

Then I hurt my damn hip and we lost our health insurance. I've gained all the weight back. I don't look much different than those old photographs. I was just thinking the other day about how I have almost no photographs sitting or hanging in my house. Now you know why. It was a subconscious choice. God, I worry about my health now. Being this overweight is not good. It's funny, too, because I don't eat sweets that much anymore. It's sheer inertia.

Hurting my hip will ultimately shorten my life.

I actually cried when I thought about this. I won't see any grandchildren grow up even if I live to see them at all. I could go on.

On Christmas Eve before we went to church, we took some photos. I wore the cheapy black skirt and jacket that I bought for half off at J.C. Penney. Even in head to toe black, I look god awful. Forget about age, the weight on my face and so on....ugh...gag....

I had wanted to crop the photo and use it as an ID, but now there is no way in hell. I'd rather die than for y'all to see me looking like this.

It's funny because my hair is down to my butt, and everyone I meet talks about how pretty it is (white hairs and all) but it really isn't. It's stringy and has split ends and middle aged lady hair isn't as soft and silky as 20-something hair.

I don't look my age. I look older.

The church we are thinking about joining will be doing a new church directory in the new year. They usually want you to spend money on lots of package deals. We don't have anyone to share all that with but it would be nice to have one last family photo, but there is no way in hell. I don't want to be immortalized in a church directory looking like I have in past directories.

I hate it when we visit this church because no one speaks to us but the three pastors. And I want to scream to them and tell them, "THIS ISN'T ME!" but to stand there and say all the stuff about my hip means having to explain that we don't have health insurance and so on...and it all sounds like lame excuses.

As women reach middle age, they usually gain more confidence and actually seem more sexually attractive because of it. I was getting there just a couple of years ago. Confident, anyway. But one night in a stupid hammock, staring up at the moon changed every damn thing about my life.

No more fat pictures. Remember me how I looked in Colorado in 2005.

The Episcopal church we are still members of (for now) has a female pastor, and although she's a nice lady--her sermons leave much to be desired. In all my years in the Episcopal church, I've never heard a woman give a decent sermon. All the lay women seem to have social agendas.

So, I was a bit skeptical about visiting the Presbyterian church this morning when I saw that the female pastor was preaching. In actuality, she did a good job. She preached about "names" the name of Jesus and the other names for Him. And she talked about what the significance of being called the name "Christian." She also talked about receiving an email from a "missionary" to China named C. K. Lee (I think was his name). He went there and the "house church" was not easy to get to. He was told that he could preach for TWO hours. Westerners can't fathom that--much less pay attention for that long. But those Chinese Christians did. Mr. Lee visited one of the church leaders who was quite ill and on the spot, his son-in-law asked to be baptized. Mr. Lee is not ordained but he baptized him anyway. Some time later, someone was arrested (not sure if it was Mr. Lee or a church leader) and he was "questioned" i.e. "intimidated." Pastor McClintock's point was that being called the name "Christian" has very real meaning and consequences for some people. I cried and my daughter cried. My daughter likes this church a lot. There's no kneeling, genuflecting, or crossing one's self like in the Episcopal church, but I think it has enough structure to the service to please my husband.

My daughter wants to join the choir, and I think I'm ready to check out the Sunday School classes because at least they have several. There's one that tackles theological issues that I'm interested in. That might be a bit much for my husband since he has very little knowledge of the Bible or Reformed doctrine, but it sounds like it's right up my ally.

It's a gorgeous day in Houston. I plan to give Assassins Creed 2 a go when my husband goes up to his office to work. I am ready to take down all the decorations, though.

Christmas Day, 12:45 p.m.
I didn't get to sleep until after 0600 so dinner will be candlelight again. I crashed.

I got two presents. One for each of the years Chris didn't get me anything, I guess. I got a BN gift card. Remember how the cats knocked over my expensive bottle of Chanel #5 perfume and spilled it all over my wood floors? I was not happy but I still have the big spray bottle. My husband bought me another bottle of the spillable kind. He said I could return it and so I will. Of all the things I want and need, more perfume is not one of them. I hope to God they will give me cash back so I can buy a video game instead. I knew I wouldn't get an XBox but I did hope I'd get a video game. Assassins Creed---HELLO! IF they will only give me a gift card, then I'll get clothes or boots.





Christmas Eve day was horrible. It wasn't any one thing but bunches of things. I thought we might not go to church but we did.

We went to Pines. The weather is beyond cold. You Yankees can have the snow.

Anyway, the 3 of us and my daughter's boyfriend went to the 11 p.m. candlelight service. The minute we walked in the door, we were greeted by the asst. pastor, Pastor Jun.

The chancel choir was doing a lovely job of singing carols before the service when all of a sudden Pastor Jun went up and sang, "O, Holy Night" IN ITALIAN and then English. He did an amazing job. Afterward, the congregation applauded and there was a sprinkling of Amens. Next an African American lady sang a spiritual that was just as awesome but no one applauded because the service began.

I was eager to hear/meet the head pastor because sets the tone for the church. I like Presbyterian pastors in their black robes. They're all scholarly and professorial. I like the head pastors voice. He doesn't seem like your typical Reformed minister, all stern and serious and stuff. His sermon was a Power Point thing, which I tried to remain open minded about. Actually, it was fine. It started out about the little girl who asked in a 19th century newspaper if there was a Santa. the sermon asked if there is a Savior. There was a series of images, one of which was hands in prayer. The pastor said he had talked to the girl whose hands those were. She said she was praying to find out about her doubts about salvation.

Whoa. That hit home big time.

After the service, we waited in the narthex/lobby to meet the head pastor. I told him that I know he must be very tired but he did a great job. He seemed relieved to have someone understand how tiring it all is. He laughed and said he is 49 years old and it gets harder on the body to do these things.

No kidding! Ain't that the truth! All y'all under the age of 40 can't truly appreciate that.

Anyway, my daughter was gushing about the choir tonight and the cantada we went to. He hugged her. She said she'd love to be in the choir and he told her to join.

I told him where we are curently members (Episcopalian) and he said there service and communion is different. To which I replied that I used to be Presbyterian, Coral Ridge in Ft. Lauderdale,..... Again, my husband laughed at the power of the words Coral Ridge and D. James Kennedy. Dr. Kennedy baptized me, and I agree with that his passing was a great loss. I found this interesting since Pines is part of a different, more liberal branch of Presbyterianism. It is that fact alone that causes me to hesitate about commiiting to this church. They have women elders--which blew me away.

Oh, supposedly, my husband went to Macy's yesterday and bought a gift for me. I hope it wasn't that tacky black rose ring. I guess we'll see. He had put it in a brown mailing envelop and put it under the tree. UGH NO I told my daughter to take it upstairs and wrap it properly. He never has wrapped presents but women like that sort of thing. We like pretty packages. That is as important as the gift.

I need to make cornbread and then get some sleep. I am behind on my cooking and there is much to do in a few hours.

Merry Christmas to all of you who observe this day as a Holy Day.

A special shout out to Kellemes Karacsonyi unnepeket

Anyway, we all liked this church and this service.