People Are Weird

Yeah, yeah, it's probably not news to . . . well, anyone.

So I'm talking to my Gramma and my twin sister, Kate . . . five minutes ago at most, actually. So we're talking, chatting about things with various relatives up here, when baptism comes up. Which leads to talking about my Aunt Tammy, loudly not a Christian, and disliking any organised religion, who is married to my very Catholic Uncle Ron.

So of course Gramma lets us in on 'just why' Aunt Tammy's not Christian, when she was very devout growing up. Aside from my Born-Again Aunt Kathy telling her she was living in sin with my Uncle, that she should leave because, as a Catholic, he wasn' a true Christian, blah, blah, etcetera.

As it turns out, Gramma's of the opinion that she is angry at God, because he chose to take away one of her best friends. He died a few years ago, of cancer, and Aunt Tammy, Gramma says, is just mad at God, for 'choosing' to take him away.

The heck? That's one thing I have never, ever understood, even when I was nine years old and would sit outside at the park talking to God and looking up in the sky. First off, death, dying, living, sickness, health - it's completely natural. I don't - I can't understand how anyone can thing that there's this great, all-knowing being, person, whatever, judging them from the sky and deciding just when everyone would live or die. It doesn't make sense to me.

For me, death is just a continuation of live. You're born, you live, you die, and you are reborn again, learning life's lessons along the way. Maybe you take a break between journeys, maybe not. I don't know. So the idea that someone, anyone, can just decide when you truly end and then nothing after that until some great reconing . . . makes no sense to me. I don't understand. It's like the original sin concept - why is evryone, everywhere, accountable for two people's misdeeds? Sort of silly, isn't it?

I'm shaking my head at myself right now. I honestly didn't intend this to be the main point of my blog post - I was going to go into the neighbour's cat Mischeif trying to swim in the hot tub, and my cousin Lucas being bsessed with McDonald's chicken nuggets, but I've got a Biology test to take in Virtual School, so . . .

Wish me luck! (I need it.)

 - Janie L.

Happy Midsummer (Days Later...) !

I'mmm Baaa-aaaack! Miss me? No, probably not.

Anyway . . . I faced a bit of a dilemma this past holiday. You see, I had a plane to catch on the twentieth, and so couldn't celebrate. Iwas also sharing a suitcase with my twin sister, who is very much NOT in the know about me being a witch. My choice in books got enough looks from her without me adding ritual tools.

So no ritual for me, no big celebration.

Surprisingly, I didn't mind. Oh, I was upset about it at first, but as the big date approached? I realised I was alright. And then last night, I was outside watching the sunset across the feild with my sisters, playing with the neighbour's kitten and I realised something.

I had celebrated. Midsummer, Litha, whatever you call it . . . it's a time for balance. The summer's at it's peak, going by the wheel of the year. On the calender, it's the first day of summer. The days will be shorter from now on, and over the course of three days, I'd done my own ritual, something I do every year, without even realising it.

Every year since I was five or six years old, my two sisters and I have gone to visit our relatives in New York for the summer. Be it for two weeks or six, we've always spent time with them, staying at out Gramma and Poppy's house. When our Dad went overseas after 9/11, we lived with our grandparents. And always, without fail, we go out to eat, have a bonfire, pick mulberry's, and visit the tenant's on the other side of our grandparent's farm.

So, this past Midsummer . . . we did all of that. And I didn't even realise it. We got off the plane, went to Friendly's, and my sister's and I went to go say hi to Anne and Doug. We made s'mores at the bonfire. On the twenty-first, we went shopping at Fashion Bug, visited my Aunt Tammy, and then yesterday I sat outside with my sisters and watched the sunset. It was perfect.

We've done all that and picked the mulberry's for jam.

So I've done my own little ritual, and I couldn't be happier. It's funny, thinking about it. Two years ago, if I came across a post like this, I'd be beyond confused. Now? I'm WRITING this post, and perfectly content.  I'm with my family, the sun is shining, and I have mulberries.

Nothing could be better.

 - Janie L.

Hearing Loss, Parent Blame, and MIA

As I think I've mentioned here before, I've got some minor hearing loss. I don't know why, and I don't know exactly how much on any given scale, because I've yet to convince my parents that it is cause for enough alarm to take me to an ENT or an Audiologist. Right now I've given up on talking to my mother about it and have moved on to dear old dad. And there's the thing.

Mom doesn't think I have any problems hearing. She thinks I'm just, quote, 'so used to ignoring things that she [I] do it without meaning to. And yes, maybe some of that's from listening to music with her earphones . . . ' Eavesdropping? Me? Definitely. Amazing what you hear when people don't hink you're around, right? Kinda what prompted this little post.

I don't get it, I honestly, truly don't. I've had a basic hearing test done at school - a speech pathologist is there on Thursdays, and the nurse got me an appoinment with her to have my hearing checked; I couldn't, as of April, hear the two lowest notes she played. In my science class, we were doing an experiment with decibels and frequencies; six of the notes that my classmates heard, I didn't, and one of those even my forty-ish/fifty-ish year year old teacher heard.

Am I scared? Boy am I. And my mother just writes it off. Says to my face that I don't want to hear her.

So, yeah. Not very witch-y, or helpful in any way. But I need to vent and . . . well, why not here? Who knows, maybe someday I'll look back on it and be able to give someone else some advice about it.

On another note - I'm going on vacation to Orlando for a week tomorrow, WOOT! Wizarding World of Harry Potter, Epcot, and Busch(sp?) Gardens, here I come!

 . . . Hurriedly trying to locate my swimsuit . . . and hoping it still fits . . .

 - Janie L.

Why I Do This

It's a pretty good question to ask, if you were wondering. I mean, most of what I post IS pretty random, after all.

But that's the point. And the reasons I have for making this blog are entirely selfish.

Here's the thing: when I first started looking at Paganism, I saw all  these blogs by adult witches, heathens, Wiccans, what have you. Tons of it. Lots of books aimed at teens finding their spirituality.

I saw squat by anyone my age. The closest I found was College Wicca, and . . . oh, wait, I'm a high schooler. So . . . I felt pretty left out. Kinda alone. I knew there were other teenagers that believed the same things I did, I just didn't really see anything from them.

So now I'm trying to give that. Yeah, there's some magic, a book review, lots and lots and LOTS of silly stuff. And it's exactly what I was looking for two years ago when I started on this path.

I'm doing this so that you - yes, you, in the beanie, the messy hair and the graphite-smudged plastic Harry Potter glasses, hiding the copy of What to Do When Someone You Love is Wiccan behind Deathly Hallows and a paper book cover - so that you can get a bit of insight into someone else like you. Someone who, hey, understands a bit, and is just as worried about clothes and friends and math class and what in the world goes on in adult brains.

Not much else to say beside that, really. Just thought I'd let you know. So, drop me a line, leave a comment; I'm perfectly free to chat.

Ta,

 - Janie L.