It’s the Constitutional right of Americans to exercise the free expression of their faith. I don’t understand why people refuse to accept that idea.  This entire debacle is reminiscent of the discrimination that Blacks have felt during the 60s (and some would argue it continues), that Gays and Lesbians endure.  Christians need to stop waging war on fellow Americans simply because we do not believe as they do.

The good Muslims of America  who are building places of worship, not only in New York, but across the country in the communities where we live are doing what any other religious group does. We have a right to practice our religion without hindrance. We aren’t hurting anyone.  We aren’t trying to prove a point. We are not making a political statement. We are doing what Christians and Jews have done for decades. We are building a place of worship.

President Obama has taken some flack for his stance for the Constitution, though it was viewed and twisted into support for Islam.  Afterwards, our President felt the need to “clarify” his statement and then tack on that he didn’t think that it was “a good idea”. Even the local muslim community here in Oklahoma City wasted money on ad space to voice their opinion. (We can certainly discuss my feelings about my community here, but it is still Ramadan and I’m trying to maintain my fasting.)

Thanks to the Amendments to the Constitution, there are no asterisks or footnotes, no little subtexts that “all men are created equal, BUT…” 
Religious freedom, the right to practice and worship and build houses of worship apply to all Americans, not just those that profess Christian beliefs.

Leave these Muslim Americans alone. Let them build their mosque in peace. Let them enjoy the rights that we all have earned.  Enough drama. Build it. We will come.

All that time I spent homeschooling our children, tending to everyone’s needs, thinking of others first.  Now it seems that they all think they can boss me around. My daughters walk in while I’m in the bathroom, the shower, lying in bed. Hubby grabs the paper out of my hand. Our son takes my spoon and samples my cooking. I amazed. There are no boundaries.

Recently, my granddaughter pulled back the shower curtain and hopped in with me. My last vestige of solitude was now defiled. She even used MY bodywash and soap. How could I be upset with being forced to share the shower with those beautiful, bright eyes and wide smile? Easy. I wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Some time to myself, just for me. Is that too much to ask for in this day and age?  Solitude. What a concept!

I know that I should take some responsibility for their lack of respect for my personal space, But I cannot.  At some point, my adult children should know that it’s not okay to crawl into mom’s bed because they don’t feel well –especially when they invite their children and spouses to crawl in as well. (Long story, don’t make me go there.)  They think nothing of going into my personal cookie stash, raiding my closest, taking my newly purchased shoes.

Perhaps we indulged them more than we should have when they were growing up. I don’t know.  What I do know is that I am craving privacy. In fact, I am going to demand some personal time! I’ll update you all on the progress of my new found resolve as soon as I stop hiding in the closet with the laptop.

Trev tears things up. Totally. It’s not on purpose. It’s just the way he’s been since he was a baby. ( I recall his being 2 and a half and given his dad’s 30year old metal Tonka dump truck.  It lasted 4 months before it was destroyed.) He reminds us of BamBam. In fact, we used to call him that when he was a baby.

I should have used better judgement when I let him use my phone.  He has one, sturdy and lasting longer than any of his previous phones. But my phone, a HighNote, is sleek and modern. It has an MP3 player built into it. So he wanted to impress the girls with a more teen-style phone. I let him borrow it for the day.  Mistake!! Well not so much a mistake as it was an error in judgement .  I can’t say what I was thinking because I’m honestly not sure that thinking was involved.

Son came home and I asked him about my phone. He said he would give it to me later because there were some numbers that he’d collected that he wanted to get out of it. Fair enough. I didn’t think any more of it.  Afterall, it was the weekend and business calls are slower for me. Monday morning, bright and early, I asked for my phone again.

Now we are about to have a problem. My son, GOD love him because I am having some difficulty, swore that he gave me my phone back. His story went from, you were typing at your computer to you were on your way to your room.  I assured him that he hadn’t returned it. He assured me that he had.  This went roundabout for a couple of hours. He even offered to look in my room to find it for me. I will admit that at this point, I was starting to believe him.

I will spare you the  photo-vision of my phone when it was found in the driveway. It is still too painful for me to view.  It doesn’t slide anymore. The battery is smashed. It has ceased to function.  Now the story has changed to “it was in his pocket and must have slipped out and then run over by his friend’s car”.

Will I ever learn?  I can’t even be upset with him because I knew what would happen.  The logical thing to do would be to take my son’s phone to use until he could repay me for mine. Can’t do that. Apparently the reason he needed my phone was two-fold. He wanted to impress girls, yes. But he also had damaged his phone.  My husband gave me an “I told you so” look when I asked if I could borrow his phone. There was no need to tell him what happened.  He already knew.

I continue my prayers for peace and healing, both for my community and for the wonderful country that I live. I always pray that this Ramadhan will be better than the last, that I am able to fulfill my duties as a Muslim, a mother and wife, friend and sister with the grace and poise and wisdom that is expected of us all. It’s a tall order when my nerves are on edge and stupidity and ignorance abound, but I am determined to try and succeed.

I will not become annoyed when I am asked the unintelligent questions concerning fasting. We do not eat from sun up to sunset. No water, smoking, sex, chewing gum and all the other fun things during the day.  But aside from or in addition to the physical constraints, there are spiritual and emotional ones as well. We are to avoid anger and annoyance. Our focus is on God and how we can better serve. When we feel the pangs of hunger, we are reminded that we have a choice to eat while others are not as fortunate. We are humbled by these thoughts and pray for the less fortunate that they might find peace and contentment.

It bothers me that my faith has been hijacked by a few idiots who seem to think that the are doing God’s work. Nothing about what they do is a reflection of God. It is our fault as Muslims, that we do not teach others about us.  But here in America, it is also the fault of those that are not willing to learn.  Many would twist our beliefs to fit a mold, make us homogenous.  We are not.

So this Ramadan as in Ramadan’s past, I will strive to be the best Muslim that I can. I will try not to become too annoyed with the ignorant, the stupid, the heartless and unkind. I will practice tolerance and love and kindness. (I have a feeling that I will spend a great deal of time in prayer to avoid running into those folks, but hey… it works!) I will try to make the evening prayers at the mosque and commune with my brethren. I will not allow the foreign-born muslims to irritate me as much as they normally do. I will love them anyway. When the fight begins over the last day of Ramadan and the sighting of the moon, I will not participate. I will laugh at the childishness that fills the time of some Muslims. I will not be embarrassed by their behavior. They are not me.

It is a tall order that we ask of ourselves not only during this Holy Month of Ramadan, but every month.  All we can do, all any of us can do is try.

May the Blessings and Bounty of Allah be upon everyone of us for today and many days to come.

Ramadan Mubarak!

I was given episodes of True Blood and Spartacus: Blood and Sand among others. I expected the fair share of beefcake, the gratuitous t&a shots to keep the men folk pleased. I did not, however, expect to see these things so … vividly.  Thank God for high definition television.   I have never seen so much nudity and simulated sex scenes. It was so close to porn that I couldn’t watch more than the first five or six episodes of Spartacus. Actually, that’s not true. I watched the entire season. Three times. Okay, five times.

What on earth has happened to television? There is nothing left to the imagination any more. I was somewhat prepared for the language. Over years, it has become increasingly explicit. But when folks start dropping loin cloths and flashing their well-endowed goodies all over the screen, it’s time for TiVo… I mean it’s time to take a second look. (No pun intended.)

Okay, I admit that once the man-flesh goodies started parading across the screen, the storylines and plots lost all meaning.  I couldn’t even tell you the dialog or the actors names. I can tell you, however, which season episode and frame you might want to watch out for (in case you’re interested).

I’m not sure that the grandmother in me is pleased with the turn that television has taken these past few years. I do know that the feisty old broad in me will keep watching until I’ve made a decision!

Migraines are no joke. It wasn’t until I was correctly diasnosed did the issues begin.  I had something worse than a  mere migraine. I had Intraocular hypertension.  Do you know what that is?  Have heart, I didn’t know either. Researching an illness that very few people have is hard. It  seems trying to get a physician to understand what is causing the headaches is an insurmountable task.

Intraoccular hypertension is a result of spinal cord fluid leaking and not having anywhere to go. Since there are no other places for the spinal fluid to accumulate, it gathers being your eyes in the cavity, creating pressure. This has catastrophe written all over it.  The pressure behind your eyes feels as though they will leave their sockets and shoot across the room at any second.

There hasn’t been a successful treatment found save draining the excess fluid from the spine and ocular cavity. I’m not even close to thinking that either is a viable option.  Until something different comes along, I will do what I have always done.  Treat is as it comes and move on when I can.

I miss smoking. I know it’s not politically correct to say it, but it’s true. Besides, when have I been politically correct about most things? I do miss smoking. Not the smell and certainly not the cost, but the act of holding the cylindrical object to my lips and inhaling deeply.  It’s been three years since I had one and the sensation is just as appealing as it was the day I put them down.  I miss the relief after the first draw. I miss my drug.  And there is a part of me that is angry that I can’t have it anymore. I choose not to have it.  It’s still a daily choice, like alcohol or other drugs.  There are times when the decision is more in my conscious than at other times.  But it is always there – lurking.   Dexter (my favorite serial killer) calls it “the dark passenger”. I totally understand that.

It may not be true, but it felt like I could handle this menopause thing better when I smoked.  I had a crutch when people regularly grated on my sensors.  (If you’re new to Oklahoma, you’d know exactly what I mean.)  These people, these people, this city, these people! They make you want to take up bad habits.  Few can hold a decent conversation, logic is faulty… enough!  I like to say that although I knew that smoking was a horrible habit and a major contributor to lung disease and cancer, in my case, smoking kept people alive.  Instead of snapping the necks of someone who offended my senses, I could just go in the house and smoke.  I don’t have that crutch now. Listening to lunacy drives me to distraction.

The other day, a woman here ran over her future mother in law who was standing behind her car trying to prevent the woman from leaving her home. I bet that woman used to be a smoker.  Combine smoking and the raging hormones of premenopause and stress and you have a woman constantly on the edge.  Folks don’t think about that when they add undue stressors.  We could snap at any minute.

Did I mention that I miss smoking?

Oklahoma elections are just different from any place I’ve ever lived.  There is no poll tax, but you wouldn’t guess that by the turn out.  The vote is less important to the young than the old.  For few now live who remember the struggle. This  is yet a discussion for another time.

During the 2008 elections, many were afraid to vote for now President Obama. There was the thought that the ballots were rigged, that there would be repercusions if it were somehow made known that a vote had been cast for him.  The word Oklahoma  means “people of the red earth” and we were no exception. We are the red state and held true to our name.

I am still pleasantly surprised that our current governor was elected.  I think more people were tired of President Bush than would let on. It is uncommon for Oklahomans to deviate from their thoughtless path. We just don’t vote for Democrats en masse. Somehow, someway we did that time.  We are an unpredictable lot.

Jari Askins and Drew Edmondson are both running. I have met both and am unimpressed at this point by either.  Jari is more personable, but personable doesn’t run the state.  Drew is a cold fish, hard to peg. He seems like a decent attorney. Lord knows he’s been attorney general forever.  I think they both have the best interest of all the citizens of Oklahoma in mind. All the more reason that this is a difficult choice for me.

The issues are never-changing: health care, reproductive freedom, gun control, invasion of privacy, gay rights.  All are hot buttons just waiting to be pushed by the photo-op and soundbite crews. There are those that are so busy trying to get elected and stay elected that they forget what they are elected to do.  I know where we should stand on the issues, but should and actually do are so far apart here.  Oklahomans have the chance, once again, to do the right thing and send a Democrat to the state’s highest office.  Oklahoma needs another eight years of the Constitution and a leader that displays impartiality in its citizens’ private matters.

I know that there isn’t a Republican alive that will honor the Constitution without trying to change it to suit his/her constituency. I will never be rich enough, dumb enough, insensitive enough to be a Republican.  Wow, this is going to be more difficult a choice than I thought.

May the best Democrat win!

I chose a character name that intrigued me, someone that would be recognizable.  Then I set about building my cities and such.  The first few days passed in relative obscurity. I plowed fields and built troops, shored up defenses around my castle. I enjoyed the bliss of “beginner protection”.  My cities flourished under the Mists of Avalon and other wonders to keep me safe and to level the playing field.

And then I discovered the chat.  Lots of interesting people resided there.  Moderators attempted to maintain some order, but were often too busy helping newcomers that many violations would get lost in shuffle. There were friendly people, obnoxious ones, learned and scholarly, nerdy…  everyone was represented.

I discovered the addicted people, the ones who only left their computers to void and perhaps get some hot pockets from the microwave.  I still don’t understand how someone could spend 18-plus hours online everyday.  I imagined them as being pale, short, dumpy booger-eating nerds. I was only half wrong.  It seemed that these gaming addicts came from all walks of life and unless they lied on their profile pictures, some of them looked quite good.

So what did I learn on my venture into game-world? Lots of different things. Not to judge the book by it’s cover and definitely not to assume. I learned that there is an honor code among the gamer-geeks.  There are good and bad players, cheaters and those who play by the rules.

In one of the chats, someone said that “this is life”.  I can only hope to pity those that would actually view this cyber-community as real.  If one can not recognize the fantasy for what it is, then there is one who needs serious intervention.  Motherhood without dirty diapers and hassles.  Troops to feed instead of children.  But life, this is not. Definitely.

I can see the advantage of not having to engage with people. Life across bandwidth does have its advantages.  Life that is created to our specifications. You can be who you want and no one is the wiser. But living life in a fantasy world,created by “developers” as a ruse to part us with our hard-earned dollars is not life. It’s certainly not living.

I’m already a Diva. I don’t need a game to give me imagination. I don’t want those limitations. Online gaming is not real life by any stretch of the imagination. No one should ever confuse the two.

I am not gay, nor have I ever been (at least to my knowledge and understanding).  I do not pretend to understand the inner dynamics of  being born gay or choosing a gay lifestyle (whatever the latter means). And I certainly have no desire to fight and die for a country that has difficulty accepting me – a 6th generation American post-slavery- as one of its own. I have no desire to see my relatives fight and die in battle.   So when I run across someone of any sexual orientation who is willing to do those things, my hat goes off immediately. I will gladly sleep well under the blanket of protection that they provide.

Like Blacks were discriminated against in the military by not being allowed to fight alongside whites, by being told that having flat-feet is a disqualification, by only being allowed to be cooks or cleaners, gays and lesbians have many of the same issues.  Many people are too young to remember that the Viet Nam war was the first war that America fought that was truly integrated.  There were issues then. There are still issues.  Old beliefs die hard, but die they must.

It’s time for Americans to grow up.  It’s time to realize that gay people, like Blacks, Muslims, Atheists and others are just as much a part of this society as any other group. It is unfair and unrealistic to claim to be the land of the free while denying rights to any of our citizens. Allowing others to exercise their rights to choose does not impede upon our individual freedoms.  I still believe and worship as I always have. I just recognize that others have that right as well. It’s not a difficult task.

I say let them all fight. Anyone who wants to fight has my prayers and blessings. Better them than me!