I'm Moving Again!

I've moved my blog to WordPress because Blogger is difficult for me. I don't know how to navigate around this shizz... and besides that, all of the cool bloggers are on WordPress, and well, I want to be cool too. Look me up, people!

http://ckynot.wordpress.com/

Treasure Hunt

When I was a small child, my grandfather collected coins. He had tons of them; boxes and boxes of coins from all over the place and all different periods of time. He also collected coins for each grandchild, starting with the year they were born. I had a small tub full of coins from 1985 and on. I never really thought much of them- actually I thought it was kind of boring. I think back now, and I wonder how far those coins traveled before they ended up in his hands. How many hands did they pass through? How many places around the world did they travel to? What small treasure did they buy for someone?

As I've grown older I've had a yearning to collect something interesting. Something with history behind it like my grandfather's coins. So a few months back I began looking for things I would be interested in collecting. One of my favorite hobbies is photography. I've always loved taking pictures and I'm usually the friend with the camera when we go somewhere. So I decided to collect cameras. There's nothing else with more history behind it than an old used camera. Thinking about all of the hands it could have passed through, all of the memories it may have captured is fascinating. Thanks to Nick, I have a small collection of 3 or 4. He loves thrift stores and yard sales, so he usually brings me home some lovely treasure to add to the shelf. So far, most of my cameras originated in the late 1960's to 1970's, but I'm going to take the hunt more seriously and start searching for older ones.

This is something that really interests me, so hopefully I will actually stick to it. I'm so bad about starting projects and losing focus. I know it is so cliche, but being in a new place makes me want to do things differently. I have so many ideas that flow through my head constantly, and I never just let loose and let them out. It's mostly laziness, but I am really going to work on not being so inanimate. But that's an entirely different subject for another day.

So far here are the few cameras I have. I would have taken my own photos of them, but my camera is dead at the moment, and in the move I have misplaced my charger.

Kodak Instamatic X-35 produced 1970-1976

Magimatic X50 126 Magicube produced in the 1960's

Polaroid Colorpack II produced in 1969

Of course, I have more current style cameras as well. But those are boring, and have only been used by me. So I decided to only post the ones that are considered collectibles. I'll post more as I collect them. I may even try to find film to fit, and see if they still work!

Update! Sort of...

So here I am- moved and settled in Jacksonville, FL. I really don't have much to say at this point. I've spent my first week and a half inside unpacking while Nick is working. I just felt like I needed to post something. I love my house. Now that I have all of my stuff, it is really starting to feel like home. The first week I felt misplaced, if that makes sense. I was in an empty house by myself for most of the time. I didn't go anywhere because I hate to drive, especially by myself. So I sat here with the animals and waited for Nick to get home everyday. Now I am almost completely unpacked, and I feel more comfortable. I think I am nesting. I do this whenever we move. I turn into a little hermit, and all I want to do is stay inside until everything is right. I don't want to be around people. I don't want to go anywhere. I barely even speak. I want to arrange and rearrange my things until it feels like home. I think I am the true definition of a homebody. I LOVE to be at home. And if my home isn't a place I can come to for peace and serenity, then I will not be happy. Some people say that a house is just a place to sleep, but not for me. The place I live is so much more than that. So I'm nesting like a little bird. Nick thinks I'm sad. I'm not sad. I'm just in my head right now. I shall return when my home is right. And I will return with pictures!

Side note: We did take a little walk the other day. We walked about ten minutes down the street to all of the shops and restaurants. It gave me that big city living feeling. It was really neat. Like I mentioned before, I hate driving. So this will be very convenient for me when I am home by myself.

Strange Things Come in Strange Packages

I don't like talking about religion. Unless you are around a thousand people that believe the same way you do, it's just not a fun topic. When someone brings this subject up, I can feel my temperature rise and my muscles tense up. It's worse than talking about politics. I don't like arguing (or debating, same thing) with people. I don't see the point. I don't see the point because there is no point. Most people hit a certain age, and they are pretty grounded in what they believe. Debating an issue like religion does nothing but cause bad feelings. I'm getting nervous just typing this, but I felt compelled to do so.

Religion is tricky. You grow up believing something because your parents told you that's how it is, and your parents are never wrong. But then you actually grow up into an adult, and life happens. You realize your parents are as human as you, and you wonder if they really believe all of the things they tell you. You watch all of these bad things happen to people you love, and it sucks. You read about all of the crime, war and hatred in this world, and it sucks. You watch people, young and old, suffer and die, and it sucks. That's the only word for it all. Life freaking sucks sometimes. So you start questioning everything you have been taught. You question the man upstairs. You question the man downstairs, and you question all of the men around you. Why in the world would someone create such a horrible place and allow these things to happen?

That is what happened to me. I've really struggled with my beliefs the last few years. I used to believe in so much. I used to believe that things happen for a reason. I used to believe that the good triumphs the bad. I used to believe we were all destined for something great. Then life happened. And let me say it again: Life freaking sucks sometimes. So for the past year or so I have really taken the time to figure things out. I've let go of the fairy tale stories we are told as children, and reached into my own heart for answers. For a while, I was comfortable with what I learned. It made sense to me. But I still had a few nagging questions that I just couldn't come to peace with.

That is where I was two days ago. Friday night I had to work the closing shift at Belk. It's tax-free weekend, so we were opened until 10:00. I was the only person there from about 6:00 on, and it was AWFUL. So I'm stuck behind the register for a good two hours when a woman and her two children approach me to check out. Long story short- she hadn't used her Belk card in a while, and I had to open a new account for her. She ended up waiting for about 30 minutes, so I gave her some extra discounts for being so patient. She was probably the nicest person I have met in a long time. I could tell she had a deep spiritual connection because she kept using phrases like, "Oh what a blessing!" and talking about how great the Lord was. We talked a while and I told her a little about myself- I lived with my boyfriend; we were moving to FL next week, and tomorrow was my last day. One thing that bothered me at first was that she asked me why we weren't married yet. I told her we just didn't have the money, and we were happy the way things were. I waited for a rude remark or a judgmental look like we usually get from religious people, but there wasn't so I relaxed a bit. She told me she wished me many blessings on our journey. I said thank you, finished bagging her clothes, and she left.

When I got home I told Nick about it in passing. We didn't talk about it much, but I couldn't get that woman out of my mind. The next morning I returned to work. A few hours into the day, I received a phone call from her. She told me she had something for me, and would drop it off around lunch. So I waited kind of nervous about the entire situation. When she got there she handed me a gift bag with a really nice study bible in it. She told me that she prayed for me the night before, and that she felt compelled to buy me a gift. She then went into a little spill about how harsh the world can be, and how mean people can be, but not to let that come between myself and God. She also told me to find a church that taught the love of God and scripture, and not all of the nonsense you hear about these days. It was the strangest thing.

All of this time I had been struggling with a few questions. Nick and I have been wanting to find a church to go to, but have been so turned off by the way people preach these days. We don't want political views and end of the world scare tactics stuffed in our faces. And my main struggle hasn't been with my spiritual connection, but with people. People turn me off to religion- the hate, the anger, the judgements- it's horrible. Why would anyone want to be a part of that? I keep my beliefs to myself. I pray and talk to God when I am alone. I don't feel the need to broadcast it to the world or try to get everyone I know to believe in the same things I believe in. But that woman did something for me that I have needed for a long time. She restored my faith in people. I don't know if God sent her to me or if I was just in the right place at the right time. I don't know if it was God talking through her, but I will be forever grateful. She answered my questions, and gave me hope. I have found the peace I was looking for.

By the way, her name was Tammy Steinberg. And if for some strange reason she reads this, I just want to say thank you.

Gypsies

*Side Note: This turned into a total rant. I was going in a totally different direction, and got side tracked. I apologize if it is hard to follow.*

After only a little more than a year, I am packing my bags and leaving this place I almost called home. I will be relocating to Jacksonville, FL in less than two weeks. I'm extremely excited. Tuscaloosa was sort of a let down. The school, the culture, the "bigger" city- none of it lived up to the expectations I had when moving here. But maybe that was my problem- I had expectations. I've made a few really great friendships that I know will last a lifetime, but other than that I'm glad to be going. I welcome adventure and change. Some people don't adjust well with change, but I enjoy it. I don't get attached to things very often. And as long as it's on my terms and my time, I like stirring the pot every now and then- mixing things up a bit.

I have a cousin that moves all over the place. He never stays in one place too long. I've only recently had the chance to get to know him, yet I've admired him for years. I once asked my dad what he did for a living. My dad told me he was a gypsy. When my cousin was a child, my dad lived with his family for a while. My dad was a total badass (in the good and bad way) and was always on the move. The way my dad told the story was that they were hanging out in the yard when my cousin asked my dad what he did for a job. My dad told him he was a gypsy. Supposedly after that my cousin wanted to be a gypsy too. So that is what he became- a gypsy.

I recently had the chance to verify the story with said cousin. Once I got a little older, and especially since my dad has passed away, I have come to question his stories. My dad loved telling tall tales. Everyone knows it. So it's hard to know which stories were true, and which ones he told just to "pull our leg." But low and behold, the story is true! Which leads me to my next belief that this gypsy living must run in our family. I've always had the same urge to just go and live. A person is always weighed down with the standards of life- finish high school, go to college, get a job, get married, have kids, grow old. But that has never been a part of my plan. I used to want to be a wife and mother. When I was a teenager it's all I ever thought about. I think it had more to do with the fact that I came from a "broken" home than anything else. But once I got older and lived on my own, I realized there is so much more to life than that.

I want to live outside of the box. I want to travel the world. I want to breathe the different atmospheres. I want to struggle and learn, and do all of the things people think I'm crazy for doing. I think that is one thing that really turned me off to Tuscaloosa, and my hometown for that matter. I had so many women make snide comments about not being married when they would find out that Nick and I were just living together.

"When is that boy going to marry you?"
"He better hurry before someone else sweeps you off your feet."
"Nick, when are you going to propose to that poor girl?"

No one ever took into consideration that maybe this poor girl didn't want to get married yet, and that Nick had already swept me off my feet. I think this has a lot to do with why we haven't married yet. We want to. Eventually. But we don't want to do it just because we feel pressured by society. No one ever stops to look at US. No one ever watches us together to see how happy and in love we are. They just look at my left ring finger, and judge me for not wearing a ring. When in reality, our relationship has survived more and is stronger than most marriages. We are married in our hearts. We are committed to one another. We are in this for the long haul. We don't need a sheet of paper to declare our love. We know how we feel about one another.

And that is why I'm so happy that I get to go on all of these adventures with Nick. He's my soulmate, my right hand man, my partner in crime. He has the same dreams that I have. He has the same passion for life and living that I do. We may not do everything the traditional way, but that is what makes our life so much fun. That is what makes our love so strong. We get each other.

So we're moving to Jacksonville. We'll get jobs. We'll make friends. And we'll wait for the next adventure to come. Then we will pack our bags once again, and continue on our way.

Big Decisions Sometimes Take A Little Time

My sister and I got our first tattoo last week! Same tattoo, same location in memory of our dad. After three years of discussion we finally figured it out, and we couldn't be happier with it!

I didn't expect it, but it was such an emotional day for me. The tattoo has so much symbolism and meaning to it that I will always hold dear to my heart. And not just the symbolism seen by the eye. It stands for something that would take days (or just an entire blog) to explain.

To the normal eye, it's a dove with a phrase under it. In different cultures, the dove stands for peace, serenity, and the freeing of a soul to the other side. The olive branch in the dove's mouth is a symbol of peace and new life. The phrase under it, "Let Your Soul Shine" is just a line out of an Allman Brothers' song.

But if you could look at it closer, if you could see what the needle etched into my heart, you would see something so much more beautiful. You would see a lifetime of stories and memories.

The dove symbolizes my dad in the eternal sense- a soul set free from pain and suffering. He was sick for so long, but even before he was sick, he suffered through so much hardship in his life. His soul has now found peace, wherever one chooses to think that is. For me, souls don't fly off to some unseen place. They become a part of us. My dad's soul swirls around me at all times. It's the wind on a breezy day. It's the sun on hot summer days, and the rain on the stormy ones. His soul streams down my face through tears during tough times, and it sings through my laughter during joyous times. It's gentle, soft and quiet just like a dove symbolizes, and just like my dad was on Earth. I'm never alone because I feel him all around me, and I hear his voice in my heart.

The olive branch symbolizes me in the present tense- peaceful and new. Losing someone so connected to me was the hardest thing I've ever been faced with. It changes a person- first for the worst and then for the better. It's amazing how the psychology books pin the process down to a 'T'. For the first two years I was bitter and angry with everyone. I descended into a black hole, and I never thought I would be able to pull myself out of it. I lost faith in a lot of things- especially people. The cliche line of "You find out who your true friends are" took on a whole new meaning. I lost myself after my dad was gone, and a lot of the times I just wanted to die. But with the support, love and  LOTS patience from a few wonderful people, I dug myself out. I had to learn how to live again- this time without him physically. And now I have a completely different outlook on life than I did even before he died. I have gained such a deeper connection with everything around me. And I have a completely new respect for life itself. Not just my life, but ALL life.

The phrase symbolizes my dad in the past tense and all he taught us. Like stated before, it reads, "Let Your Soul Shine." It comes from The Allman Brothers' song "Soul Shine." They were one of my dad's favorite bands, and we played that song at his funeral. Not only is it a pretty song, but it represents everything my dad stood and lived for.

"He used to say Soulshine,
It's better than Sunshine,
Better than Moonshine,
Damn sure better than the rain.
Yea now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes.
You gotta let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day"

Anyone who knew my father, knew how optimistic he was. He was one of the most hardworking men I've ever seen, and he rarely ever complained. He went through so much, even as a child, and he always kept a smile on his face. Whenever my siblings and I would get upset at something someone did, or if things didn't work out just as we wanted them to work out, he didn't let us wallow in our sorrows. He used to always say to us, "Don't drink the poison." And he didn't. He didn't drink the poison that life sometimes poured him. He didn't give others control over his attitude or feelings. He always learned from the situation and rose above it. He didn't let hate or anger fill his soul when life wasn't going great. Even when he was sick, he always saw the positive side of things. What positive sides there could be from dying of cancer when you certainly are done living yet, I will never know, but he was always optimistic about it. He always swallowed his medicine with a smile on his face. And that is what I learned from him. He taught me how to ride a bike and drive a car. He taught me how to catch and hit. He taught me how to tie my shoes. But the main lesson he taught me was how to love and forgive. He taught me how to let my soul shine through the ups and the downs.

Accidents Happen, Right?

Thirty-six days into the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, and thousands of gallons of oil are still being pumped into our gulf everyday. BP has tried its hardest to hide the damages and extent of the oil spill, as top executives lie and dodge questions that the American people need answered. Most conservatives and offshore drilling supporters seem to think that people are only upset due to the damages and harm the spill has done to the fish, mammals and birds, but it goes so much deeper than that. This oil spill is ruining a way of life. Many local companies and fishermen are being put out of work because of this disaster, as fish and other creatures are consuming and absorbing these deadly particles everyday.

Most people that aren't being affected want to cry, "Accident!" Well, it's not an accident when safety procedures and precautions were ignored and pushed aside to save a few bucks. Some claim that this is the Obama Administration's "Hurricane Katrina." What people seem to forget is that hurricanes are natural disasters. Those are unfortunate events. This was not an accident. This was not a natural disaster. No one is to blame except BP, and they need to pay.

Offshore drilling will not cure our oil dependence on other countries. America consumes about 25 percent of the world's oil, while only housing 3 percent of the world's reserves. Even if we continue to drill for oil, it will take years before we have enough to survive on. It's a joke. It's another way to fill pockets. We could be putting all of that effort and money into other energy efficient resources.

http://news.yahoo.com/video/us-15749625/cousteau-jr-this-is-a-nightmare-a-nightmare-20009724