Lulabells

"Why do they have to be so damned creepy?"  The question hung for a moment, two sets of eyes turned to the speaker who stood over the seeping corpse of  a massive spider, sweeping bits of its hair from her shoulder with a frown. Her younger brother merely chuckled and turned back to continue on the path they were following, the slender Blood Elf cocked her head to one side "So you get the shivers every time you have to kill one." she quiped, and hopped over to her charger that stood a few feet away. Lulabells rolled her eyes and stradled her bike, falling in behind Verenos charger.  They were nearly to Shattrath after a successful trip to Auchindon that had seen a few appropriate scourge meet their ends. Relaxing at Worlds End with a hot mug of mead was all she wanted at the moment, they would return to Northrend in a short while, friends planned a raid on Icecrown and Lulabells, Vereno and Dooku rarely missed a friends call, besides, there were rumors that Lord Marrowgar had been restored and needed another trip to destruction.


"It's burned."
"No it is NOT."
"It IS"
"Piss off then and make your own."
Vereno cast narrowed eyes that glittered with mirth on her friend, Lulabells scowled back. "You have no appreciation for Tauren cooking" she snapped. "If Taurens cooked maybe I would develope one." Vereno shot back with a smile. Lulabells sighed, sitting and nibbling at the meal she had made and pointedly ignoring Vereno as she scraped darkened bits from her portion and flicked them at her. Dooku chuckled and she shot him a dark look "You are NOT helping, it's our mothers recipe you know." Dooku shrugged and ate without comment, "I like it." Nytemoon sat beside her, casting Vereno a bright look "Blood Elves don't have good pallets, they're all mana burned and messed up by energy abuse." she commented in a matter of fact tone. Vereno's mouth fell open "We most certainly are NOT mana burned! I have an excellent pallet!!" Nytemoon and Lulabells grinned at her.
"Enough chatter folks there's an ass here I want to kick." A tall Blood Elf finished his meal and stood, his exceptionally pale skin shaded by the brim of his helm. Albinorhino usually led their raids, good humored but no-nonsense, he had more experience fighting the scourge than most of them. "Well, Marrowgar doesn't really have an ass." a Forsaken Rogue half hidden behind Dooku commented casually as he stood, Guzzle always had something to say. "More of a pelvis I think" Froggy agreed, clapping Albino on the shoulder and smiling. "Smart asses I have in abundance though." Albino smacked her hand away with a smile.
Lulabells stood, they were all in good spirits, which helped, it was painfully cold, though the feel of the ice lessened as she closed her eyes and drew the forces of nature from within herself, her skin changed, the soft red and white patterned hide became coarse and hard, her entire form blurred for a moment and then came back, her arms branches, her legs roots, leaves rustling around her head. Once she'd taken her healing form, everyone in the group reflexively sighed, the aura of a tree of life was refreshing and reasurring. Nytemoon waved a hand and totems appeared, adding more comfort and strength to the group as Froggy began placing blessings on each of them. Across the room, past the Ebon Blade knights, massive scourge undead stood glaring at them, they would have to fight their way through these mindless servants to reach Marrowgar and take him down.

Starting stories

I'm going to start writting again, for recreation, to spark my imagination and use some of the talent I have. I've always enjoyed it, don't know why I keep stopping, life just seems to discourage being creative and running a fountain of creativity. I'm going to start with simple things, basing in what I work with every day, World of Warcraft. Character development practice etc. I'm going to use the characters of friends and family and Guildmates, if anyone sees their toon pop in and has input, email me. Not seeking criticism yet, I'll need that later, ideas about your own toons would be helpful.

Seeking Beauty

I made myself a little mission today. I wanted to find a picture that made me feel a touch of what autumn made me feel. It's my favorite season, when I lived in Virginia the smoky mountains were brilliant with the colors of fall, and I can still remember the crisp mornings and the amazing beauty of it. Someday, I want to return there and see and feel that again. I try to seek something beautiful every week, take some time, be quiet, with a cup of something hot and tasty to drink by my mouse and just browse beauty. deviantart is one of my favorite sites, so many talented people showcase their views of wonderful things there. This is a Thomas Kinkade picture called "The Valley of Peace" and I thought to myself when I saw it, "I could live there, I'd like to sit on that bridge and listen to the water for a while".

Still counting

Counting blessings, it's something I do to keep myself away from the black cloud of chronic major clinical depression, something I suffer with. Some days it is VERY hard to do.

     Today would be a hard day. My job, my dream job, my path out of years of living disabled and innactive, back toward self confidence and normalcy, pride in myself, I lost it today. The woman who had hired me knowing I was disabled, knowing what it was, how it worked, and how I managed it, decided she wasn't comfortable working with it even though she had hired me after weeks of thinking about it, even though I was by her own definition overqualified for the position. I'm a dog person, I know dogs, I can work with them, I have for more than a decade, I am more at ease and happy working in a kennel full of half crazed dogs than I am in most other places. I can stop two 150lb+ malamutes, break up the worst fights sleddogs can dish out, I've even done that wearing a leg brace up to my hip using a walker to help me, I have ended 7-10 dog gang kills just by walking into the pen without saying a word or lifting a finger, through the sheer force of my pressence. Working with dogs more often than not has less to do with strength and more to do with how you carry yourself, I know truly great dog trainers who are in wheel chairs and have to be on oxygen 24/7/365, with dogs, unlike with most of the world, our ability is less about physical, and more about spirit.

     Explaining that to someone who hasn't worked with dogs? Aparently, in this case, not possible. How can someone who loves dogs, who is capable of that kind of love, so easily cast aside another human being like they are trash because they are different? Why is discrimination, deep, hurtful, unbending and unflexible, so easy for an otherwise nice person to step into? This woman isn't an evil person, or I dont think she is, yet what she did to me was terrible. She threw me out like garbage because I was disabled and she wasn't comfortable with that. The dogs she claims to love certainly don't take a second look at me, they listen to me, they work with me, they do what I ask of them becuase my spirit is strong even if my body isn't. My counting though has to happen or this, yet another crushing blow in a long series of them, will destroy me, and I will not be destroyed.

I am great with dogs, I can stop two dogs from fighting without saying a word or lifting a finger, if that fails, I can stop a fight through redirection and breaking focus in the fighters, I know dozens of effective ways to do this without straining myself, physical force with a dog is rarely, if ever, needed, they are creatures of subtelty, perceptive beyond our understanding, and I know how to use that. My experiences, though some are horrible and heart breaking, have made me exceptionally wise, the horrible things others have done to me have bred in me a desire never to make others feel what I have, to be careful about others, to cherish them even if they have wronged me (though I may cherish them from a distance and without them knowing it for shere self preservation). I may have been "terminated" but that isn't terminal, if nothing else I have seen myself get hired into a good job, it may happen again, I can't give up. I believe God has a reason for everything, and while I certainly don't see it and may not like the directions I have to go to get where he is guiding me, I sure won't waver from following him. There's a reason this didn't work out, I cry tears, I have a nasty sinus headache from blubbering, I ate too much consoling myself and now feel sick, but I don't doubt for a moment that Gods got something else planned, apparently this was a mistep and I needed the board to the face.

I have a wonderful family, who instead of any I warned you not to mention you were disabled, I said you should try and hide it, is instead incensed over the cold way I was thrown aside and are rallying around me and offering me comfort, I thank God for that, I am far too good at trashing myself all on my own with no outside help, but the comfort and support sure as hell makes it easier to ride out my self-incriminations.

Two gorgeous adoring dogs sleep at my feet, both are damp with tears that they tried to kiss away, both have wagged their tails and insisted that I hold and pet them when I cried very hard, and holding and petting them and getting kisses and showers of all the love they could offer has reaffirmed, my dogs are completely necessary in every way and I will never live without a dog and thank you God for bringing both of these fuzzy angels to me.

I will survive, I am a survivor, I am stronger than the sum of my problems and greater than the worst of my fears. I am loved, I have friends, I am worth so much more than this one person treated me like.

Some days

Some days I feel pretty good about myself....well...most days lately. I have a new job, which I dive fully into in a couple of days, in a place I am proud of, working with people I am proud to know doing something I am VERY proud I can do. Count your blessings they say. Here goes. I am gifted with people, I have an honest love for them, I enjoy the company of others and rarely meet people that I could say I don't like on some level, or at least appreciate. I am gifted with dogs. When I was younger I truly wanted to be gifted with horses, threw myself into that fully, but the truth was, I was not Margie Goldstein, never would be, but I sure as heck can be competition for Victoria Stillwell, or Ceasar Milan. I love dogs, I am blessed with two bright, loving and adorable dogs that I am grateful to have. I live in a beautiful home with a wonderful roomate. She's a tough lady, who I respect, and who, while tough and plainspoken, has a heart of gold and has done more to help me in the time I have been here than most anyone else in my life. I live in a great area full of interesting places and people. I live close to a brother and sister I am deeply grateful to know and have a good relationship with.

 My health has improved since I moved to Houston. I may not be as thin as I want to be (I want to shed at LEAST 50lbs) but I am better off now by far than I was when I first returned home.

I have a nice car, it's not a Pt Cruiser or a Ford Ranger (my dream machines) but it's reliable and comfortable and not an eyesore in the driveway. I have this computer, the internet, and the ability to use them both well. There is a box of soft licorice within my reach, it's organic, with real licorice root and anice seed oil and soooo tasty.The holiday season is comming, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, I adore this time of year, Autumn is my absolute favorite time of the year, followed closely by spring then winter, I look forward to wearing sweaters and jackets and feeling a chill in the air. Curling up under a pile of warm blankets with my darling dogs the night before Christmas is one of the greatest things in the world.

I will soon get to make halloween cookies and treats for work, and hang decorations in my very own office! I will soon be seeing turkeys and cornucopias in windows and discussing which kinds of pies to bake for thanksgiving. I know I have a wonderful beautiful home, I am safe, I wont go hungry (though maybe I should) and nobody is in a hurry to see me move out. Watching my young dog play with his toy spread out on the soft bed while my elderly dog snoozes happily in a cozy bed by feet makes me smile every time, and happily, it happens every day. If I look at him right now, Reno, my young dog, will freeze and look back at me and wag his tail furiously. I could go on, for pages and pages, it's so easy, and something everyone should practice often, something I plan to do every day now, write down at least 10 things every day that make me happy, I feel blessed about, or just made me smile.

Fathers day. Now the question is.....what do I do now?

Building Bridges?

He said he wanted to appologize. When he said it I stopped, this man, my father, had killed my mother, blown her to pieces with a shotgun with me and my sister not 5 yards away. For 28 years he had maintained it wasn't his fault, he had shoved blame everywhere, on her, on her boyfriend, on her parents, even on my sister and I. Through my life my sister and I were hammered constantly to pity him, not to think badly of him, to forgive him by his family, who had snatched us up and hidden us and pulled the resources and brain washed us to assure my mothers family lost not only their daughter, but her two children as well. Only when I moved away from home and suffered and struggled and had my life dissolve around me time and again did I start to wonder why the way I was, the way I had been raised to be, was so wrong. Overweight, suffering from cronic major depression, health problems including a painful spine disease and a brain tumor, I'm not the poster child for "Joy in Life".

     What I do have though is faith, in God, in the world, in myself and my ability to survive. I may not be successful, I may not be pretty, married with 2 children and a nice house and an SUV, but I am a survivor, when tough times come, I know how to get through them, I may not be able to articulate the knowledge, even to myself, but inside me is the strength and I have faith in it, I have survived too much to ignore it. I am intelligent, gifted with an ability to relate what I see and feel to others, in short, I can write. The ability to relate what happens, what I see and feel is a release, a vent, and I'm grateful I have it. I've forgotten it, ignored it, neglected it, but I always return to it, especially now that it involves a keyboard instead of an endless search for a pen that writes comfortably and enough paper to contain what I have to express.