Snoop

Snooping really is my innate talent. I'm telling you, God created in me a sixth sense of knowledge. I inherit it from the universe, I swear to this.

As I was doing some daily snooping (it's become as natural for me as breathing, literally), mindless going about my knowledge gain, I found something yet again that hurt my feelings.

Though I've recently subsided my emotions and wonderings to, "If you don't want to know the answer, don't ask," I've fallen to hard curiosity and my temptations are brutal. Withstanding all temptations of wonderment are as unnatural as it would be begin breathing from my ass.

I'm expecting to see blood anyday now when I go to the bathroom. This is in high hopes that my hurt feelings are really unbalanced mean hormones that like to screw with my thought process. Disengage you damned cells!

Shot Gun Wedding

Day two for the base exercise. Miles had to brief several groups last night/morning at 11.00, 1.00, 3.00 and 4.00. He didn't get home until 5.30 and I only made it until 4.00 when I finally passed out in bed with Emma. Luckily he only has two tonight from 1.55 - 3.15 so he should be home around 4.00. Yes, in the morning. Crazy military.

I let him sleep in today until 2.00, while I ran and bought our wedding bands. Later we went to the courthouse for a shotgun wedding. Obviously I was just thrilled to bits, and it was so prominent upon my face that the man doing the papers kept telling me to smile. The only genuine smile came across my face when I imagined myself smacking him very hard in the face with the flower topped pen. "Smile, you're getting married." Yeah... foregoing the tens of thousands of dollars my parents put forth, and needless to say the little girl dream I once had. Shot to millions of zillions of pieces, much thanks to the wishes of others.

Just to let you know how desolate it is out here... there is no existing justice of the peace in all of South Dakota. Ha! Hilarious.

After much pouting, and grouching, and mourning, Miles went to nap until he had to leave and finally asked me to join him. Hesitantly I laid beside him and we discussed the days happenings. Or what we remembered after our fog-like state all day. He offered to just keep mum about the fact that we're not yet married, and just let his parents believe it so that way my dad really would marry us, and my family and I would be happy.

So why didn't I jump to this? Hargghhh.

Just before we drifted to la-la-land, we pretty much agreed to just get married since we started the entire shaninigans. Little less than abhoring the entire thing, I'm eager for this to just - be - over with.

Move me on base! Give me my dog! Let me live near April! Give me my peace, I pray in mercy!

Baring All

"... oh yes, my soul's been waiting."

A cacophony of emotions runs through me nearly nightly. Many times I purely dread the night time; once before it was a time of great luxury and relaxation for me. With the dread my stomach knots and leaves me constantly wondering; craving.

Perhaps it is because of the rape that I'm left to feel like this. Even before that, I felt so undesirable. It's no secret once you see me visually and spend time with me, I'm not your dream poster of a Victoria's Secret Angel. Unfortunately, my personality doesn't even add an element of that to my persona.

How naked I feel so fully clothed. As if everyone can see the insecurities and they manipulate and feed off of them. Am I that unworthy? Is this my fault? Am I the one who needs help and fixing? Am I the one to blame for this? Ugliness seems to do nothing but shadow me, and inevitably shatter me. Strengthening those around me, I seem to fight my way up weakly without so much as a fingernail as a boost from a helping hand. With whom do I whisper, "This is hard" to? To whom do I share my bed with and, ultimately, my love?

Are my cravings that inhuman? That abnormal? Could one even consider me... desperate?

I find myself battling between heart and mind; heart and soul; soul and mind; mind and body. It goes on, and on, and on. Does unreasonableness link, and therefore viciously cycle, to my ultimate ponderings of whether or not I should be desired over a computer game? Shouldn't I be wanted and craved for like that anticpated forum answer to a heated debate? Or should I develop such a craving that I create the anticipation? There, though, comes in my personality. It's not me to ignore those I love. It's highly unusual for me to deny anyone what they want - despite what it may cost me. What have I done; what have I said... to cause this flip-flop?

Silenced by wanting to please his ears and not make him feel as if he's not doing his job, I can't speak frequently of the insecurities that trouble me minute by minute. My silence seems to have sewn an agreement to which I was unaware of that everything is okay with me. An echo of my desires breeches my intentions and through my actions speaks volumes. But then how vicious I feel when pointed out; and then I feel like I'm asking too much.

Had I more romance, would I feel this way? Had I more attention, would I feel this way? Had I more loyalty, would I feel like this? I've tried to cover every angle I could to deter any desires and cravings, but it seems to come back to square one, where I feel as if I'm at the start button wearing a pink babydoll in braids, whereas he's at the end wearing a tuxedo dignified. Am I the prideful one?

I feel like there's something ultimately wrong with me, and unintentionally feel and act out as if I have something to prove. I curb this so that I don't dare touch a thought of anything even unmentionable, because that's not EVEN my craving. Not even a threat! But how daringly I tread on this ground of keeping my sanity, substantiating my feelings and even questioning my cravings.

How I love you by proven acts of sewn lips time and again.

House (Soul) Warming Gift

Gaining an hour is like gaining... a new universe. How amazing is autumn anyways? Not only do you get to experience beautiful change of scenery and cosy cold weather, but you also gain an hour in your day! See, even God thinks autumn and winter are too beautiful to not give us an extra hour in the day. (Okay, I'm well aware that the entire fall-back and spring-forward were man-made, but men were created in the eyes of God, no?...)

Anyways, being in church today was wonderful. The message was superb and Miles and I, individually and as a couple, needed that rejuvenation terribly. We stayed ten minutes after the service to talk to the pastor, his wife and another church member who is a military wife (currently her husband is deployed). Everybody is so friendly - and normal! I'm completely shocked how normal they are. We explained the entire moving chaos to the pastor and his wife, and she continually conversed with us and was just very normal. Now, don't forget, my dad was a minister for many years and my mum was a pastor's wife for a good half of those years. I full-well know how normal pastors are, but sometimes they do put on a front - and there is no front. It's all just out there. We're just humans there, coming to worship a glorious and beautiful God.


After the service, Miles and I picked up a Starbucks, ran home and napped a bit. Well, he did at least. Plopping down on the couch, little Emma plummeted her way onto his chest and the fuzzy warmth she emits sent him sailing to splendid dreams. I, of course, documented this cute and historic moment via cell phone. How could I pass it up? It was a beautiful day, we just spent time with God, and now we were resting before going out to be with Brian and April.

Now, I've admittedly been avoiding contact with all familiar persons thus far. Why? Perhaps I'm depressed. In fact, I know I am. However, getting out and being with April driving to Target whilst the guys googled at football on television, we were able to chat. It's been evident how down I am, and it was nice to know that she not only knew that and recognised it, but that she cared and wanted to talk to me as well. Apparently her rose garden isn't blossoming either, and she's been pretty down herself. She shared with me similar experiences that she's had in regards to what I've been depressed and down about. I can't wait to go back out with her.

Okay, and I have to say I nearly cried when she handed me the card and house warming gift. Even though I already knew what the gift was (she told me a few weeks ago) - the card nearly brought me to tears. It's definitely refrigerator worthy. She is a PartyLite consultant and we'd been looking through her catalogue a few months ago. I'd apparently commented on this one set up for our new breakfast table, and she bought that for us. I was ecstatic. It warmed my heart that someone was excited for Miles and me. His parents haven't exactly been supportive, and other than my parents and my cousin Kim, the rest of my family has pretty much always ignored me and any successes or happinesses that I've experienced. A great example would be publishing my first book. Typically I'm completely and utterly shy and humble about my publication, but for goodness sake... none of them did anything but make an off hand comment such as, "That's cool". That's cool?! How about really amazing for a sixteen-year-old girl to do?! None of my professional ballet performances have ever been attended by anyone other than Kim and my parents. It's pretty funny.

Anyways, so... April is sweet beyond belief. The thing that has kind of kept me at bay with them though was her husband. I think he's getting to know my personality though, and a new side of Miles, and Brian doesn't adjust well - or like a girl would - to novel things. I'm probably overly sensitive as well to people's reactions to me. It helped a lot meeting Miles' new co-workers and their wives. Haha, BOY did I miss April. I even missed Brian - that's saying something. (Please don't get me wrong, I don't hate Brian or anything like that. I'm not used to being around people like him - y'know, people with a personality just as strong as mine.)

I'm not sure what happened. Maybe talking to April did me more than just internal good; perhaps I was radiating a happier aura, because Miles randomly held my hand on the drive home. Miles is a sweet guy all-in-all. Yes, he has many, many "dumb" man moments, but he's also learning. Whatever provoked that moment of sweetness, I don't care and I refuse to over analyse. I'm just very happy.

To top it off, when we got home, he even began to de-clutter the place for me. He took all of the empty boxes and began ripping them down for storage for when we move to base housing in April, and then took out the five billion bags of garbage. :-O I didn't even mind going to the grocery store tonight alone. Little things like that really make a difference. I loved it.

Today I felt very loved and blessed. I needed to know that I was cared about.

"Is it you?"

Lesson of the day: do not, and I repeat, do not flush cat droppings down the toilet. This will cause a major clog and therefore will shock you when you go to flush your own droppings. (Note: if you do not know how to plunge a toilet, I highly suggest that you learn straight away. If you do not know, you will suffer the embarrassing consequence of having to ask your beloved to do it... and see that you, yes, humanly have used the toilet.)

Whining, screaming, moaning in pain, I remember clutching onto all tangible hard objects that I could in order to remind myself that I was alive. Smoke filled not just my lungs, but the air around me suffocated as well. Marijuana and cigarette smoke depleted all possibility of actually inhaling oxygen. The right side of my back was wringing in pain, and I felt like one who suffers. Yes, I pitied myself. Even though I could feel a thick fist squashing into me, I remember feeling angry with myself for pitying myself at all. Although, I had every right to feel sorry for myself. That's not my personality though, and I couldn't stand it.

A sheet covered my entire body all the way up to the top of my head. Instead of curled up next to Miles, I woke in an asphyxiated stupor with my body modeling that of an unborn baby. "Brittany... Britt! Are you okay?" My mind was pacified instantly by the dulcet sound of Miles' voice; an abstract sanctuary. I'd had a night terror/flashback.

Sitting up quickly, I shook my emotions and cold blood terror from myself. When I laid back down and brought myself back to Rapid City, SD, our apartment, our bed... our love... I felt his face with my hands in the blinding darkness of the night and said, "Is it you?" I have no idea if he understood me, but he understood me enough to embrace me in a neverending hug.

The remainder of the night, doe eyes barely blinked and stared at Miles until my restlessness exhausted me into a pitiful state of slumber. I didn't want to go back to that place, even if only in my dreams. If it means living forever in a state of exhaustion, I'd rather be exhausted than terrified; than abused; than scared.

Since my sleep pattern was completely disassembled by last nights "events", I decided to take a good kip today. Miles had let me sleep for a couple of hours, and boy did I need that. When I woke, we decided to go out to eat (on his initiative! I was delighted!) and possibly see a movie. By the time dinner was over, we thought we'd just get some Starbucks and hit it back home. Just that little outing alone was the best thing in the entire world.

I also saw some insight as to why his attention towards me isn't as much as I'd desire it. So, it allows me to muster up some more patience; definitely more understanding. I don't mind waiting, as long as he becomes okay and I know that in time he will see that it is okay; that he is not a bad person. He's a very good man, and deserves the good he's reaping. I also cannot wait for him to understand that what he reaps is what HE has sewn, not what others have sewn. By his hands and the guidance of God alone, no man on earth, he has sewn good seeds. He's a wonderful, terrific man.

I'm the luckiest girl in the entire world.

Hallowed License

It might be just a few years since I have last stepped foot into a dance studio, but the itch has never left. Perhaps it's a change in environment that has provoked such a need from mild to severe, but it doesn't look as if there is much promise here in Rapid City of a studio that will whet my appetite. Tragic how small this "big" city is; humorous how large the natives feel it is, too! Don't get me wrong, this is a nice change from Jacksonville and the pain that I had to endure. Not to mention, you could just throw me in a massive abyss right now with Miles and I would be the happiest person still. Who knows, maybe if we were in an abyss he'd have less to distract him from spending even more time with me ;-)

Admittedly I long for more time, more intimacy, more romance, more everything. When I was listening to the radio last night (indignant, I took myself out) I couldn't help but relate to the secularly shallow Britney Spears song "Gimme More". Ugh! The mere thought of relating to such a song, and to such an artist (if I can even call her that), releases a vile taste all throughout my blood creating a permanent muscular twitch for hours. It's "Toxic".

Despite my whining and complaints, and Lord knows I complain... Miles knows I bitch, I hope that I balance out the external whining with external gratitude. There are more moments when I'm in ecstatic gratitude for being where I am and mostly for being with who I am with now. Hopefully I get that across either enough, or strong enough, that it balances it out. Gosh how I would die if even before we get the marriage license that I'm dubbing myself as a "bitchy housewife".

Another thing - it really is just a certificate that is left to "entitle" us to rights as a married couple. This isn't the first time that the thought has crossed my mind, however recent events have raised this pondering once more. If you think about it, it really is quite humorous. As we're already living together, sharing food, clothing (okay, I steal his clothing, he doesn't touch mine unless it's meant to take something off of me, but that's different), intimacy and doing absolutely everything that a married couple does... we're not married. At least, that's what the law says. That's what a certain group of people think (who I will respectfully deem as a group of people and not point out as I don't need much trouble from the in-laws as it is...).

Seriously - think about it! Apparently this piece of paper with a few ink blots that are supposed to resemble signatures (I'm thinking ...forgery?) is hallowed. Without this piece of paper, we are nothing but a heterosexual couple living "in sin". I'm quite seriously considering writing to the Pope and other church leaders and requesting a hallowed piece of paper such as a marriage license to officialise me as... I don't know... wonderful? Or maybe I could get a few signatures to say that I'm legally labelled as brunette. That wasn't on my birth certificate. Wouldn't that solve a lot of issues? Blondes would no longer have to face treacherous teasing anymore. They could show their hair license and we would all know the deep rooted truth - they're fake (or real)! This is important, people. I think something needs to be done about this.

Obviously I'm just shooting hot air, and I do realise the financial importance of a license. Taking a government issued piece of paper (and to me, that is what it is) and cross-referencing it with a church and fellow Christians to say we're now officially married... that rocks my teeter-totter. In fact, it nearly throws me off balance. Without that d-u-m-b paper, I am still apparently single. Nothing is official.

Yes, I'm perturbed. I'm astronomically angry to have been dubbed a sinner, by who? A fellow sinner. ACK! Don't point and yell at me just yet. According to theological reasoning, all believers in Christ are sinners, even in acceptance of Christ. We fall short because of sin - without sin, we'd be Christ-like. Or God-like. Whatever fluffs your skirt. My point being (yes, I'm verbose - but rightfully so - I shut my mouth ALL day) that I'm being judged. And I do. Not. Like it. I'm clever enough to decipher between judgment and "I'm-looking-out-for-you". This falls well heavily into the category of judgment. I would apologise for how I feel, however... that would be so unlike me that I might as well be a martian.

Whilst my patience is thick and runs long, my temper is as hot as a potato. Irish-Welsh-Hungarian do not mix well together in the sense that my hand is innately drawn to bottles of liquor and beer, my mouth has been formed by the very hands of angels to smoke cigarettes, and lastly but certainly not least (or unbeknownst to loved ones) my temper is hotter than a rocket straight out of Cape Canaveral. Definitely has a quicker take off time, and I have yet to master the countdown.

I hardly believe I'm perfect, and I am full aware that I fall short in the eyes of God. Does this mean I can excuse poor and bad behaviour? Absolutely not! Do I take into account the very God I adore and love and want to please whenever I do something? Absolutely so! Does that mean that all gigantic, life changing, life altering, life fusing decisions that are prayed over and thought about are sinful in their final decisions? Absolutely NOT! As a Christian, I firmly-firmly-firmly (..firmly) believe that God is active in decisions made throughout your life - if they're not capricious. Oh but what do I know... I'm living in sin and thus must be blinded by Satan's candy.

Okay, now I'm just getting mean.