Faith in Humanity

Faith is a pretty tricky thing. Seriously. How do you expect someone to believe in something you believe in when his or her faith and level thereof are different than yours? Faith is the belief in that which cannot be proven. It is why faith is so easily shaken these days. People are constantly in need of proof. We have been let down so often, our faith in humanity shattered. Our trust in people is constantly broken and laid to waste before us.

So it becomes hard for so many to open themselves back up to trust and faith and the belief in the unseen. How can we recover? By letting go of our sense of self and slowly redefining it. Since our trust and faith have been broken, perhaps what we knew to begin with was not truth?

I was told for years that my birthmother was a 17-year old slut addicted to crack cocaine. To further accentuate that I came from worthless stock, I was told that my birthfather was rotting in jail for murdering his marijuana supplier during a deal gone bad. The older I got, the more I learned about these two specific drugs and the more my mind reeled. If my mother had been addicted to crack during my pregnancy and my subsequent birth, I surely would have suffered health problems. I do not suffer those particular medical setbacks. And what pothead do you know kills their dealer when the dealer asks too much? Not highly likely. They'd just go get it somewhere else or pay the inflated price.

My perception changed. It had to change. Facts were laid out in front of me in such a way that I could not argue. I could not hold fast to what I had known. What I had known was a lie and not based in any kind of fact. To keep me under her thumb, my adoptive mother told me the most horrid things she could to try and keep me "in line". She attempted to control me and for several years she succeeded.

In my adult life, I refused to be controlled. If I did something for someone, I was first required to be willing to do it. I still refuse to be controlled and it is causing me a great deal of pain. I had faith and trust that my life, that this attempt at relearning how to love would be different than the prior. I knew that my faith had to be restored in humanity and mankind, especially men.

And as difficult as it was, I realigned my views on people. I succeeded. I trusted someone and was a better person for it. I..m still a better person for it, for I have not yet sunk into the bitterness that used to come from a failed relationship where I was wronged. Kwan Yin has made sure that I have not. She has wrapped me in her concept of Om Mani Padme Hum. She is known as She Who Hears The Cries Of The World, for that is precisely what she did and does. She could have passed from this world of dread and pain into eternal enlightened light. Instead, she turned back to help us, to bring us to enlightenment and the end of pain, emotional and otherwise.

So Pain and Faith are intertwined, for the loss of Faith results in Pain. 9-11 caused outright panic and chaos. With each passing year, the terrorists are still winning. Please note: I am not directing my finger at who the "terrorists" are. I'm not passing my own personal judgment on if it were Islamic extremists or the U.S. Government. That is for others to debate. These terrorists, regardless of who they may be, are still capitalizing on what they did five years ago. I have long forgotten the intensity of the feelings I had that day. I remember the events as though they were yesterday, but I do not dwell on them, for that is what the terrorists wanted.

An Excerpt from Angels & Demons, by Dan Brown:

Langdon's head ached, and he felt like he was skirting the edges of rationality. He watched Vittoria and the camerlengo, but his vision was blurred by hideous images: explosions, press swarming, cameras rolling, four branded humans.

Shaitan ... Lucifer ... Bringer of light ... Satan ... He shook the fiendish images from his mind. Calculated terrorism, he reminded himself, grasping at reality. Planned chaos. He thought back to a Radcliffe seminar he had once audited while researching praetorian symbolism. He had never seen terrorists the same way since.

"Terrorism," the professor had lectured, "has a singular goal. What is it?"

"Killing innocent people?" a student ventured.

"Incorrect. Death is only a byproduct of terrorism."

"A show of strength?"

"No. A weaker persuasion does not exist."

"To cause terror?"

"Concisely put. Quite simply, the goal of terrorism is to create terror and fear. Fear undermines faith in the establishment. It weakens the enemy from within ... causing unrest in the masses. Write this down. Terrorism is not an expression of rage. Terrorism is a political weapon. Remove a government..s façade of infallibility, and you remove its people's faith."

Loss of faith... Is that what this was all about? Langdon wondered how Christians of the world would react to cardinals being laid out like mutilated dogs. If the faith of a priest did not protect him from the evils of Satan, what hope was there for the rest of us? Langdon's head was pounding harder now ... tiny voices playing tug of war.

Faith does not protect you. Medicine and airbags ... those are things that protect you. God does not protect you. Intelligence protects you. Enlightenment. Put your faith in something with tangible results. How long has it been since someone walked on water? Modern miracles belong to science ... computers, vaccines, space stations ... even the divine miracle of creation. Matter from nothing ... in a lab. Who needs God? No! Science is God.

I have faith in many things, but logic is what protects me from the fallout pain of misplaced faith. I believe in things unseen and seen and have been let down. I often used to use those letdowns as reasons to become embittered and cranky, not letting anyone inside my heart. But it was hardly a satisfying life.

I was miserable, my existence so small and meaningless. I meant nothing to anyone, least of all myself. Even my children were scattered to the winds, mere toddlers and already had no use for me. The depression set in and I was worthless to the youngest, the one I was entrusted to take care of by biology, the gods and goddesses, the government, and my own actions. He needed me and I was incapable of connecting to him, providing him with the care and love he needed.

He felt it, I'm sure of that, and he reacted in such an uncivilized manner that I began to refer to him as 'demon-spawn'. Many would think this an insult. Many would tell me I'm still a horrible mother for referring to my son with such a horrifying moniker. But let's look at some things first, shall we? I identify with the demon race known as the Succubus and their adoptive mother in lore, the first woman and wife of Asmodai, Lilith. "Demon-spawn", when in reference to my son, is not the insult people think it to be.

I spent a weekend recently with my significant other at the time and when I came home, my son actually greeted me. He ran to me, threw his arms around me, and kissed me profusely. This was odd behavior for him. And ever since that weekend, he continues to be my best buddy. He felt the change in me and reacted. He knew I was high on life and love for everyone and everything around me. My son saw the difference in me.

I had him with me the day things ended. Normally I would have left him at home, specifically to keep him away from such unpleasantries. However, my father was not home, I was out picking up cigarettes, and decided mid-trip to get things done and over with. His presence kept things civil, but I watched him. I watched his eyes and facial expressions. He was suddenly a shy little boy, making coy eye contact with the man I loved, and placing his little hands protectively, almost possessively, on my chest.

For the past few days, with the outpouring of love and thoughtfulness of dear friends, the reaction that I love the most is my son's. He gives me space when he sees I'm about to break down and behaves like a perfect little angel, quietly playing in front of the television with his toys. Within moments, I am my old self again, hugging, kissing and thanking him for being everything I need right now. The little punk has the nerve to blush to which I respond by tickling him and then we wrestle on the floor, his stuffed animals joining in the fray. We're laughing the whole time and it's wonderful.

This is what I always wanted when the thought, "Oh goodness, I'm going to be a mother" crossed my mind. This is what I thought it would be like. Not what I dealt with Samantha and Clara. No. That wasn..t motherhood. I wasn't allowed the option to connect and truly bond with my daughters. My son on the other hand, I have that opportunity.

I wallowed in self-pity when Josh left me that very last time. I couldn't look at my son and realize that he was all I really needed. I couldn't realize his unconditional love because I was so bereft. This time, the goddesses who have shown me their love recently have made sure that I see it, that I embrace it, and that I "wallow" in my son's love and not focus solely on my loss. Amazingly, my loss is Lex's gain and finally mine as well.

I don't know when I will get through my grief. I don't know if I will. But I have so much more than my grief to make me the person I am. My pain only strengthens my resolve and gratitude towards my current path.

I once wrote an essay called "The Narrow Path" (named for a part of my website at the time) and used a forest allegory for how every spiritual path leads through life, that none are more right or wrong than the others. Here is that essay:

The Origin

As mentioned in the Introduction of this website, "The Narrow Path" as a title came from the Bible. Before I continue to explain, I want to list the verse for those of you unfamiliar with the Bible and/or who have no desire to flip through a massive tome to find it (of which sentiment, I blame you not.) In the following version, the specific phrase ..narrow path.. is not used, but anyone familiar with this book of text knows that from version to version, wording is sometimes different.

Matthew 7:13-14 "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow is the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." (NIV)

On May 1st, 1994, I was given a gold colored coin as a confirmation gift. This passage from Matthew is engraved around the edge in easy to understand English. It became a talisman, one that I clung to throughout high school and the typical teen struggle to find myself. Nine years later in May 2003, my grandmother Lona passed away. At her funeral, I found out that she had chosen this passage for her own confirmation verse around 1940. In her last remaining years, Lona suffered Alzheimer's Disease. Amazingly, even through her 77th birthday twenty days before her death, this Matthew 7 passage was one of the few things she could still recite.

This knowledge made my coin an even stronger talisman to me. Now it connected me on an even deeper level than before to an elder of my family. (Please note: Lona and her son Wayne, my dad, are not related to me by blood. Wayne and his wife, my biological aunt on my mother's side, adopted me in 1983.) The coin was a gift from Great Aunt Delores, who knew of both my love for Lona despite the lack of blood times and Lona's confirmation verse. My deep regard for all things Native American, their respect of family, and their ways of life bring this coin close to my heart and mind at all times, along with Lona's memory, even if it says, "Choose Life. Choose Jesus."

The Purpose

Wading through texts and tomes to find your own personal truth is much like walking a narrow trail through a forest. The way can become confusing and difficult. The wrong books can act as logs difficult to get past. The wrong associations with people can act as snaring branches that scratch your face. Not knowing what you are looking for can be the faded paint on signposts making you get utterly and completely lost. All these things can leave you with no idea which fork in the road, or which spiritual path, to continue on.

As time goes on, people find wider, easier paths. These come in the form of covens or organizations or groups of friends. These wider paths give you much needed respite and rest from the struggling path you once walked alone, and you still learn wonderful information to help you in your search for truth. But spiritual truth, your own spiritual truth, is a deeply personal matter.

Many Pagans I have met or interact with are what we call Solitary Pagans. We discuss our paganism and our own paths and our own truths, but we practice alone or at best with a significant other. In this, we travel our own path. Within covens, individuals still practice some of their spirituality in private. In this way, they too travel their own footpath, still visible to the wide trail of the coven. There are Initiates, Priests, and Priestesses who are part of large recognizable traditions. But even these can be found practicing parts of their faith alone within their homes and families. These people travel their own path too, within footfalls of the well-trodden road of the tradition.

No matter if one is a Solitary Practitioner, a Member of a Coven or Circle, or an Initiate, Priest or Priestess of a Grove or Congregation in a specific Tradition, there are points in our daily lives where we practice our spirituality alone. We commune with our deities or nature or God in a solitary manner, walking our own "Narrow Path".

This website, its title, and yes, even my Christian Gold Coin remind us that finding and living our spiritual path is not meant to be the easiest thing in the world. We pass from narrow footpath to narrow footpath, from wide trail to wide trail, constantly growing and learning. If our paths to spiritual awareness and enlightenment were meant to be easy, it would not be worth the time and effort we spend traveling them.
The Narrow Path is yours to find. We only are here but for a moment in time. Make your journey worth the pitfalls and trials you will face.

August 08, 2004 - 3 months before the birth of my son.

I am intelligent and beautiful. I am worthy and deserving of love. I deserve to have my life valued. All these things are true. But there will always be the desire to have someone who loves me deeper than anyone else. It's the one thing I've always wanted, that I've fought for harder than anything else, and have never quite achieved. Everything that I have ever valued, I fought hard for and got my hands on in the end. I know what it is like to fight for my life, for the lives of those I love, and to save lives in one way, shape or form.

I have always believed that everything I've been through, all the horrors and trials I have endured, brought me to a point where I could be there for others in similar situations. I've always been the one who allowed people to cry on my shoulder, to turn to me for advice. I handed it out because I knew what I was talking about. But when it came to love, I only ever was able to see the mistakes and say what not to do. When people didn't like what I had to say, I simply told them, "You've seen my track record. I should think I know what not to do by this point. But don't ask me what TO do. I obviously haven't figured it out."

So in my grief, I did a net search for Pagan ways to get through the loss of a relationship and found plenty of links. I only took the first four that struck my interest on the first page only. It was all stuff I knew, but in my times of grief always forgot. I posted them to my blogs as a reminder to myself and as a sign to others that I will not lay down my sense of self. Several points struck cords, specifically a quote by a member of care2.com.

I will not erase his pictures from my hard drive. I will not erase him from my sites. I will not erase him as though he never existed. The past is facts. My history is what made me the person I am. Every experience in my life is a page in my story, every love taught me something new. Every relationship I ever had prepared me for the relationship I had with him. I celebrate what I feel for him and mourn the loss as I would a death in my family. He was my heart and I will always miss him as long as he is out of my life.

I will most likely not post anything of substance to my blogs for a while. Going back to the fluff of daily grind. Nothing profound coming from this corner for a bit, gang. Time to focus on myself and take what he taught me and ruminate for a while. Time to realize that my faith is still not shaken.

Going forward down my path solo, as I always have.
~"Lillith Ubasti"
Elizabeth mK
Originally written November 1, 2006

Halloween - The Big Misunderstanding

Halloween has always been a great joy to children of all ages. And it's no wonder why. We get to dress up and pretend to be someone or something else and get gobs and gobs of candy by going door to door and yelling "Trick or Treat!"
But all over this country, town councils and school districts are taking that away... because of religion. While it is true that practitioners of many pagan faiths mark this as a religious holiday and many of the traditions/reasons behind Halloween events are pagan in origin, this doesn't mean that these past couple hundred years of parents taking their children trick or treating has been a celebration of devil-worship.
Samhain (pronounced sow-en) is the ancient Celtic New Year's celebration. For these ancient country dwelling and farming folk, life revolved around nature. They didn't have central air and heat; they had to collect firewood in order to keep warm. They didn't have refrigerators or stores to pick up supplies when the cupboards ran bare; they had to spend the autumn months storing food to last them through the long winter. In this way, Samhain was the last of the three harvest festivals (Lughnasadh and Mabon being the first two) where neighbors could get together and celebrate the bountiful harvest. They also took the time to help provide for the neighbors whose harvest was not as plentiful.
It is said that the 'veil between the worlds' was the thinnest on Samhain night, and spirits, both good and evil were free to roam the earth to visit friends and family, or wreck havoc on the non-cautious. If folk had to leave the comfort of friends and family, they covered themselves in animal skins to trick the spirits into believing they were animals. If no animal skins were available, they would carry a candle within a carved turnip to convince spirits they were a will-o-wisp. Both practices were designed to trick the evil spirits into believing the person was not worth plaguing with their tricks.
These two traditions should sound familiar. They are the basis for our Jack o'Lanterns and costume wearing of today.
During the celebrating and festivities, folk would set a plate of food outside their door to appease spirits and keep them from entering the home. Some spirits were invited in of course, like the passed on members of the family. These were served with a plate of food at the table, letting them know they had not been forgotten. These two customs have survived the centuries as well. The plate of food at the table for welcome spirits has not survived so much as a Halloween tradition, but has made its way into the wake dinner after a funeral. Offering the beloved one last meal before they passed on through the great divide.
And the food on the doorstep? What other reason could entice our little goblins and ghouls go door to door? To get the treats left for them of course!
These are just the main traditions of Halloween that have survived the test of time from the ancient Samhain celebrations. Now here's my question. Where in any of that was there mention of worshipping the devil?
Exactly. No where.
Halloween and Samhain, as separate yet connected celebrations, are a time for reflection, thankfulness, and remembering loved ones. During this trying time of religious discrimination, Pagans and Christians alike have raised their voices crying out against what they feel is meant to oppress them. But in the end, who suffers the most? The children.
No matter who is wrong or right, Halloween has become an American tradition. Does it matter what its spiritual connections are? Absolutely not. Many Christians get frightened that the 'witch' next door is going to spend the evening casting spells and hexes against them. Many Pagans are worried that their religious practices are being put on trial. For an uptight Christian with a stick up her butt, the one thing my mom never did was try to take Halloween and trick or treating away from us kids. It was a time to use our imaginations and spend time with friends walking neighborhoods and storing memories. Even if I spent seven years in the same costume as Snow White, I never once thought of how Halloween got started. All I knew was that it was one of the few times of the year Mom didn't complain about how much sugar my brother and I were eating.
Where did those days go? Children look forward to the dressing up (promoting creativity) and the massive sugar high. Why take away something that gives our children so much joy? Has the religious misunderstandings of recent years really turned us into a nation of people hurting our children under the guise of protecting them?

MY Body, MY 'Child', MY Choice

My 'friend' Danny, (I put it in quotes and will explain in the next paragraph,) put together a blog recently and sent the link through an email group I'm in. BTW, Danny, I think it's your fault I've started opening my big trap in blogs. Thanks for unleashing me on the world! LOL

Anyway, I put the term friend in quotes above because I haven't as yet met Danny. We live in the same city. We're part of some of the same religious organizations. We both are even on the Yahoo Group and avid readers of the same local GLBT magazine. And still we have not met though we read emails from each other all the time. Funny how that happens.

When I read his August 19 2004 post (from The Fight For Women's Lives), I was overwhelmed. He had forwarded it through one of the pagan lists. I responded with the following:
I want to thank you for forwarding this. I've been trying to find the words to say these exact same things for years, ever since I realized there was more than Christianity, even though the tenements of the faith still speak to me.

From the very moment I realized what sex and childbirth was, I thought I was pro-life. That is what my parents and my church were, so wasn't I the same? (Then again they're also conservative Christian Republicans and would probably have heart attacks if they knew the truth of all the events in my life the past 6 years.) But then I was faced with being a mother myself. And for all my Christian upbringing and for all my respect of life and unborn children's right to live... I thought about abortion. And then spent months hating myself.

4 years later and I still don't know where I stand, even though I have 2 beautiful girls and another child due for an appearance the first weekend of November. When I realized I was pregnant with my second daughter, I once again thought about abortion. And honestly, before my first trimester was over this year, I thought about abortion again because of personal issues in my life and with my former partner. I'm still not sure having this baby is a good thing, but it's too late to change my mind, now isn't it?

But this Patriot Gal says everything so succinctly, and she does have a 'pagan' attitude towards her own Christianity, and in my mind she is a truly spiritual and patriotic person.

Maybe I'm an idiot, but I have become more pro-choice this past year. Growing up I thought that 'pro-choice' meant 'pro-abortion'. Boy was I wrong. I also thought that 'pro-life' was strictly 'anti-abortion'. It's not. Patriot Gal's statements brought that naivete into utter clarity for me. If I was pro-life, that meant I also couldn't be for the death penalty in certain circumstances. Well, I am. Mass murderers, serial killers, serial rapists, and the rest of them... While I believe that death is too good for them (my vengeance streak being a mile long), I also believe that our society, our children, are safer without them in this world.

My ex had a t-shirt that displayed a skeleton head with a turban on it that read, 'Kill 'em all, Let Allah sort 'em out!" I thought the shirt, the sentiment, and him for wearing/believing it were all very bigoted and racist, but it does make a point. When it comes to these criminals, they have to meet their maker someday. Shouldn't we be able to keep our families safe, even if it speeds that up?

While I'm not a fan of Dubya, I'm not a huge fan of Kerry either, so voting this year might be a bit difficult. (Maybe I can get away with the excuse that I'm due to give BIRTH that week. lol) In any event, I still don't like the idea of abortion, though it's only for one reason. I can see the medical reasons for mother and baby. I can see the victim reasons for victims of rape and sexual abuse. But I cannot and will not ever be able to see the reasons behind, "Oh no! I had sex and wasn't being careful and got knocked up! Guess I'll just go get rid of it." I hate that reason. Hey, girlie: If you can't do the time, don't do the crime. Or at least don't get 'caught'! Use some protection and some common sense. (And condoms aren't enough protection, btw. Please see the September 2004 F6 Article posted in Guest Submissions on my Mask of Laughter website for reasons why!) (now defunct website)

So therefore, I'm pro-choice. I've decided to have my children. Even the one who was fathered by that ex of mine. Not everyone would. And I can't fault them for doing what they feel is right in their hearts.

One of the various pictures Danny has posted on his blog portal is of Dubya as Uncle Sam in one of those 'I Want You' posters. The fine print reads: "I Want You... to look the other way... while I take away your power to make decisions about your body. My friends in congress and I won't stop at anti-choice judges. We want to deny you access to birth control. And we'll keep going until we take away a woman's right to choose." This has gone too far!

At the point of reading various places on the web, in various newspapers and magazines, and hearing on the news of the Bush administration's attempts to take away birth control, I became livid. I've never been on a strict regimen of birth control though I have taken it before. After I have my son, I want to start taking it regularly. I'm extremely fertile, and my body needs a rest from having kids every two years. How dare he take that right away from me.

I have plenty of female friends who are on birth control for medical reasons, and not as an anti-pregnancy tool. That is a secondary side effect. These women need the birth control to tone down their menstrual cramps so they can function in every day life. These women need the birth control to regulate their cycles; some were having cycles every other week!

Our bodies are our domain; we do not belong to the government and their desires to have more people to screw over, lie to, brainwash, and control.

Politicians for the most part have gotten out of control. They think they rule us. They forget that we voted them to their positions so that they could work for us. We are not to submit to their will; they are to submit to ours.

If people of the gay community want to get married, adopt and have families, that is their right. They are Americans too.

If women want to prevent pregnancy or end one, that is their right. They are Americans too.

If people want to have a different religion other than Christianity, that is their right. They are Americans too.

This is NOT a Christian Theocracy like Bush wants it to be. Our constitution gives us rights. These rights allow us freedoms that don't exist in other countries. These freedoms are a privilege and they are being slowly stripped away.

Women: It is your body, your choice. You are not property of any man. No boyfriend, fiance, husband, father, brother, uncle, or ugly looking monkey in an oval office can tell you when you can and cannot have children. Fight for your rights to control your own body and your own destiny. We earned that right after years of fighting for it. Let's exercise it. Even if it's a write-in vote for Homer Simpson or Mickey Mouse! We need to let this male dominated government know that they cannot and will not control us.

Besides, if it weren't for a woman, they wouldn't be alive, now would they?

The Rich Celebrity

On the radio this morning, I heard someone having the same bitch I've had for years. Celebrities and their free gifts.

These people make gobs of money, but rarely spend any of it on clothes, jewelry, or gadgets. They go to award shows or celebrity parties and find these things handed to them. Yet we, the little people, have to scrimp and save up for these things. We have to watch the price tag and never get anything free.

Will Smith, while I love his music and acting, recently was heard saying, "If someone wants me to wear it, I'll just wait until they give it to me." Sean 'P. Diddy' Combs was handed a diamond encrusted iPod at a recent event. These are just two examples.

These people can afford these luxuries! Haven't you seen what they have done to their vehicles? I was in Meijer at the magazine/book aisle sometime last year, and read in a car magazine about all the tricked out things Adrian Brody (star of The Pianist) had done to his new Hummer. These celebrities have no control. And we let them get away with it.

When will we step up and take a stand and say "NO!" Name brand companies charge us higher and higher prices while our employers give us measly raises that barely cover groceries and diapers each month. The name brand companies charge us higher prices because of all the free gifts they give the celebrities. The employers give us measly wages to keep their costs down so they can provide more free gifts to the celebrities.

They make us work long hours and we never get to see our kids, all for measly money to be able to spend on our families. All the while, they give free things to celebrities and tell us, 'so-and-so can't live without his such-and-such, how can you?'

Oh I don't know. I just look at the empty checkbook and the empty cupboards and tell my kids, nieces, nephews, and younger cousins, 'Sorry babe. There's no money to get you that flashy new mp3 player you wanted for your birthday unless you go without clothes to school.'

Speaking of celebrities... I was in Meijer last night picking up some needed groceries (thanks to food stamps) and saw a magazine screaming in bold letters, "Mary-Kate: Before at 80-something pounds. Now at 91 and rising!"

Now a long time ago, before their 18th birthday, I saw the twins on one of those day shows where they were complaining about how they can't find any clothes small enough for them because of how short they are. Mary-Kate and Ashley are my height. I think there may be only an inch difference and I don't remember who is taller. These two girls 'have to have clothes custom made'. How do they think us short poor folk survive?

And did anyone care when I was 17, 5'0", and weighed only 87 pounds? Did they splash my starving plight across tabloids? Did they care that I was slowly starving myself to death because I wasn't as beautiful as the guys wanted me to be? Do they even care that their focus on beauty is destroying our youth? Do they care that these same youth feel sorry for Miss Mary-Kate? I don't feel sorry for her one bit. I dealt and got over it, she will too.

When I was in high school, there were two types of teens. Those who were fit and athletic and those who were obese or fat because they weren't like the popular people so they ate themselves into oblivion and size 22.

Now I see the teens, every last one obsessed with being thin, and I weep. I don't see as many athletic or fit bodies anymore. I see anorexic and still the obese. Many may say, "Then they should stop eating so much!" The sad thing is that these overweight teenage girls aren't eating like they were 6+ years ago when I was in school. They are starving themselves and the stress of trying to get thin just puts more weight on. Their bodies are retaining water and they are growing larger... and dying.

My cousin Vanessa, thin as a rail, but with the wide hips our family is cursed with, lounges on the couch, never doing anything, and poking her belly complaining about getting fat. She's 15. I only just met her a year ago and already I want to shake some sense into her.

Yes I am thin compared to many. I'm 30 weeks pregnant with my third child, and I only weigh 140-something. And when I start losing the weight from the baby, I'll manage to get back to 120 or so. But I'm the rarity who can eat whatever she wants and still keep my weight down. It's called genetically inherited high metabolism. My father is skin, bone, and slightly toned muscle. We are the skinny ones of the family.

In fact, I just cracked open a tub of Fannie May Mint Meltaway ice cream. Yes, I know you are all screaming that you hate me. I hate me too. Why am I so lucky that I can eat all this fattening food and still be so skinny, while everyone else has to work their butts off to look this thin... just like the celebrities.

The truth of the matter is that beyond getting things for free constantly, and getting paid gobs of money for the jetsetting and acting and singing on stage and recording albums that they do, they have quite a lot of free time because of all that money they make. Which means... They can afford the pricey trainers and pricey gyms.

They work out days and days and days, work for a couple months straight, and then back to the gym they go. Remember those long hours we have to work for measly money that doesn't cut a dent in the expenses and debt? How do they expect us to work out to get those bodies when we have no time and even when we do have the time, we're too tired.

For the rising hike in poor health habits of our teens, I blame the rich celebrities and fashion mags. For the rising materialism of our kids, I blame the rich celebrities and the companies who pamper them.

For not keeping them in check, I blame ourselves.

Pink?

"Pink? PINK? But Elizabeth... You HATE Pink!"

Yes, I know I do. Therefore I used it! I'm being really ornery today.

So a rant about the color pink, the very color in this blog... Pink is about the most ridiculous color ever invented. I have two daughters, and everyone gave me tons of pink clothes for them. I'm sorry, but my oldest has red hair. Bright red hair! You don't put hot pink on a little girl with that bright of red-orange hair!

Baby Pink and Baby Blue. What is up with that? We are forcing our children to think of things in black and white standards, when the world is all shades of gray!

Take my younger brother Jarrod for instance. I wanted Mom to buy me Micro Machines instead of the standard Barbies and My Little Ponies. Jarrod wanted the 'girl toys' apparently, because every time I asked to play with his 'boy toys', he'd give his consent, but only if I'd let him play with my Barbies. My friends' brothers did the same thing, but ripped the heads off and tore their clothes off. Not Jarrod... No siree. He color coordinated their clothes and fashioned their hair in rather becoming styles.

The idea of gender-orientated colors and toys should be eliminated from our society. All it has managed to do is confuse the hell out of some very sweet and caring people. I suppose I should say more on this, but it irritates me so much, that right now I can barely see straight.

So I'll leave it with, yes, I'm using pink for this blog. But I'm also a rights activist, one of the main ones I fight for being the rights of the homosexual community. I don't feel like messing with the html of this template, otherwise the color scheme would be rainbow! So I think Pink will just have to do.