I think I have learned friendship

I have never had many friends in my life. I am not very smart, never really had (or have) any talents, I'm not good at doing very many things, and because I was "different" (boys were more fun then girls, so that's what I wanted to be) I never quite felt like I fit.
Junior High wasn't anymore comfortable then elementary was. It was important to be liked and I was weird. Different was not good. Not only was I different, but I had a secret. Something I had done that was very stupid and was a constant reminder of my lack of worth. I knew people that I could be friendly with, but no one I could share things with. So I pretended I didn't care about anything, I was just a screw up and a miss fit, and I found "friendship". This meant you had to produce to be accepted, and being accepted would not always last much past the hangover. I pretended well, but still never did fit, so I tried to become invisible. That was painful and lonely. It also made me keenly aware of my lack of value and once again I found myself being the cheap commodity that by now I knew I was. So I hid myself, all of the ugly I had become, and made friends by standing in the shadows. These "friends" are co-workers, church members, stuff like that. I was sure(and some days still am) that if anyone knew who I really was, they would not want me anywhere near.
It was a very long time before a friend found me. She was a "friend" like anyone else. But during a phone call she pried and I told her some things I was struggling with I didn't think I would hear from her again and I certainly didn't want to see her! I was evil and she should stay away. I thought I had lost someone that I did really kinda like. I felt totally alone. She called and asked me to come over. Since that day, I have learned a lot. I still don't understand why she (or anyone else) is my friend, but I am trying. I don't think I even really knew what it meant to have and to be a friend. This friend has told me several times how much I mean to her. Just the other day she told me she loved me............ For the first time I really truly knew in every inch of me that she meant it. No strings attached and with all my flaws she actually cares about me! I have very few people in my life that I would call my friend. But I am very grateful for those few. I think I have a very different view of a true friend now.
A friend is someone that you are concerned about all the time, not just when it is convenient or looks good. It's someone you want happiness for and that you know you can trust. It's someone that you my not know very well, but shows up on your door because a friend knew you were struggling. It's that same person that you never call but think about always and hope she is doing well. It's the guy that is concerned enough for you and your family to make two trips to the hospital in one week. My friends are all of those people. Thank you all for teaching me friendship.

I like rain

My Father told me once that his mother HATED lighting and thunder.
When he was a child and a storm was coming she would gather her two boys up and they would all sit in a closet that was in the center of their home until the storm had passed.
I obviously did not get my love of storms from her.

I like rain.
I like everything about it.
The steal gray of the sky
The sound of the rain hitting the trees and the ground.
And the almost eerie stillness that blankets everything around you.
Thunderstorms a great too.
you have all the same elements going on, with the added bonus of listening to the far off rumblings as the storm moves closer and closer.
Then the loud cracks of lighting and booming thunder as the storm arrives . And back to the far off rumblings as the storm moves away.

When I was growing up we would play in the rain. Jump in all the puddles, and taking twice as long to walking home from school. My brothers, sister and I had this stupid game where we would pretend we were butterfly's that had to fly a certain distance to get out of the rain (from the deck to the old pear tree in our back yard). If you got hit with more then 10 raindrops you(the butterfly) would curl up and die. We would play until we were sufficiently wet and then come inside change cloths and sometimes my mother would build a fire.

As I got older I would go for walks in the rain, or sit out on my deck to write short stories and poetry.
The depressed calm of the storm always seemed like a good time to be alone and in my own space.
For some strange reason it is comfortable.


I don't enjoy rain storms like I use to.
I don't write anymore and I haven't walked in the rain for years,
I still love the storm, but it is in a different way.

It is a dark and cloudy day today, and I am glad that it is.
There is a quiet anticipation of what might come.
I like that.

Why do we have Sundays

Is there a point to Sunday? I mean other then it being a day off for some people and a good excuse for an afternoon nap if your over the age of 5, I think Sunday was invented to make people feel guilty and uncomfortable.
Growing up Sunday was always go to church, having dinner with the family and going to see grandma and grandpa. We would run around my grandparents property, getting in the barn and playing in the trees with all of my cousins. As I got older Sunday was HAVE to go to church and pretend you are spiritual, or righteous or whatever. I just settled for pretending I was not going to burn in hell.
I am now well over 20 something and have at times liked church, even really enjoyed and felt strongly about the lessons taught there. But I have never really felt that I belong. Not that the people are not nice, or I have been gossiped about or anything. I just have always felt like I am going through the motions. I will never be the person I am suppose to be.
AND WHO THE HELL AM I SUPPOSE TO BE? I'm I the good little girl that shows up every week for church, reads her scriptures, prays, gives to charity, and takes food to the homeless? Am I the person who really would like to sit around drinking and smoking and getting high? Can I just be a mom who most of the time loves her kids and would like to hide in the shadows?! Is it even possible to be a little of all of them?
This is way I hate Sundays. It makes me wonder who I am and I don't like that. It is much safer to just not care, no guilt in not caring! But then I feel guilty about my children. Should I be insisting they go? It would be good for them. Am I insuring that they are going to hell by not making them go, or (for now) caring if they go? I tell myself I should go, and set a "good example" for them. Then I am pissed all day because I don't want to go. And more often then not I have taken several pills and am high when I get there just so I don't go crazy while I am there. Or, I get drunk when it is over. SO. I ask again.
WHY WAS SUNDAY INVENTED?