So many people ask me things like “How’s business?”, and “Keepin’ busy?”. So many times I’m asked, and so rarely do I ever get to answer honestly, because of time. I’m always in a rush.

     Anyways, I’m going to explain myself a little. I moved out of my parents house very young, and in with my older sister, because I wanted to pursue a career, and they just wanted to move around, looking for the next best thing. I’m a logical thinker most of the time, this makes me seem cold occasionally. Sometimes I can be very emotional and vulnerable  (like in my writing). But over all, I’m just a big mixture of different personalities.

     Anyways, my sister owns a salon, she has been self employed for a very long time. Here I am, young, and energetic, and willing to learn. So I never really know anything besides being self employed. I don’t relate as well to people who feel they are “working for the man” and I can’t imagine NOTbeing in control of my paycheck. (aka, not depending on myself)

   Now I have a few things to say about all this. I guess, its a pet peeve of mine when people think I have access to a constant flow of money. This just simply isn’t true, I have to provide a constant flow of money, and it’s not easy.

    I don’t “make my own hours” and it isn’t “nice”, so don’t say “It must be nice to make your own hours.” because it’s not, and I don’t. My hours are dictated by your hours.

    But I have to say, I can’t imagine it any other way, it makes you well rounded, it takes a while to soften all of your sharp corners, so to speak, but eventually you start to separate time, family time, alone time, work time, education time, etc.

     I also can’t imagine making the same paycheck for year not knowing when of if I’ll get a raise, or a promotion, or retire from working for them man. I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy… or maybe it’s what makes me crazy… either way, that’s my answer, that’s the truth.

NIght

Aaron

Aside  —  Posted: April 19, 2014 in Uncategorized
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   Through out my blog (if you’ve been following for a number of years) you will have noticed I gradually became more guarded about my life. At first I was completely transparent, ironically that was my goal. I had been somewhat sheltered when I was young, that abruptly stopped around the age of fifteen, and I began to shelter myself. Not an easy task for a young person. I continued this process of sheltering until I realized the harm in it.

   One can not fully understand the world in which they live in if they continually block parts of it out. Understanding is vital, for if you understand what is threatening your way of life, you are more likely to act on it. I wonder how the Jewish people of Nazi Germany might have acted had they realized the person in power had a demonic hatred for them. Surely the would’ve out numbered their  opposition.

   On the anniversary of 9/11 each year I would watch the History channel, or what ever channel was having a special in remembrance of the that great tragedy in American history. Each year I would think back to that dreadful day. I would cry for three days straight thinking of the people I watched jump from the towers; thinking of the families who lost their mother, father, son, or daughter.

   In my profession I meet a lot of people.

    I met one New Yorker who was in a Taxi, on her way to a hospital, she was in labor, giving birth on that dreadful day. She lost the baby in that taxi cab. It saddens me even though I’m not close to her.

   Another client had a brother who worked in the twin towers. I’m very careful to never mention anything about 9/11 around her. It’s such a small world.

    I went to school with a girl who claimed her older sister was on American Airlines flight 77 when it crashed into the Pentagon.

    I’ve never substantiated these claims. It doesn’t matter. Thousands of people lost their lives that day. About 3,000. When I visited ground zero it was in solemn silence. The monuments memorialized the name of every victim of that terrorist attack.

    The feelings you get when you walk those grounds are very real, as if it was yesterday. You know that grave yard feeling, multiply that by 1.000,000,000,000.

   Ground zero.

   You feel the fire fighters who lost their lives. You feel the victims, you feel the pain of their families, their children, their parents. It’s so hard. I mindlessly wish I could ignore it, continue sheltering myself, but I know I can’t. There is danger in doing that.

   I believe I am meant to keep watch. I am a watcher. I watch, and I inform, and I pray to God that by doing my part others will do theirs.

   I know this is my task.

   This is my life’s work. I am cut out for it.

   I comb through information. I find the meaningful parts, and then I pass it on. I alert people. I report. I bring truth to the blind. I make them see what is happening. Then I leave it to the doers. The activist. The citizens. The common folk. The working class.

   That’s my part. I genuinely pray you do yours.

-Aaron

 

 

 

 

Aside  —  Posted: April 13, 2014 in Uncategorized
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This is from last weekend when I took lil fella to see his birth lil brother, aren’t they cute together?

Image  —  Posted: April 10, 2014 in Uncategorized

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All the books I have read to lil fella since last summer, see anything interesting? I have to say, I can’t wait to get back to the boxcar children books

Image  —  Posted: April 10, 2014 in Uncategorized

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Here’s that liter of kittens when they were nursing, it’s hard to tell, but spots in underneath Carmel, Carmel is the second golden one, patches looks almost like spots, she’s up there by Momas face. I don’t know why, but I love watching baby animals nurse, maybe I’m a weirdo…

Image  —  Posted: April 10, 2014 in Uncategorized

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This is when she was just a tiny baby, I have some more, but I thought this was to cute. She was one of the friendliest cats I’ve ever had.

Image  —  Posted: April 10, 2014 in Uncategorized

Sad, and strange coincidence

I had read this blog yesterday, Karen is having to face saying goodbye to a beloved pet. I’ve had to do this over the year, and it never gets any easier, so I thought I could relate, and leave a comment about what has helped me before. 

Last night, after I got Lil’ Fella in bed, I sat down to work on some homework that I can’t seem to make any progress with. Fed the cats who were all outside.  Walked the dog. My printer was frustrating me, not wanting to print, and I had just started having a pity party in head. Then a knock on the door… 

A man I didn’t recognize says “Ya know that stupid pit bull next door?”

“Yeah”

“Well, he got one of your cats, a black and white one, I tried to stop him, but, the cats in your drive way.”

“Umm” I was in shock and it took a second to register what was being said. “Is she still with us or is she gone?” I asked, but I don’t remember what if he ever answered because my instincts  kicked in, and I rushed to my cat. It was Spots. She was on her back, breathing heavy, but she was alive. The man was still with me. 

“I’m just going to take her in, and take care of her, thank you for telling me so she’s not just out here alone.” Meanwhile all the cats ran into the house since I left the door wide open. I scooped her up, grabbed a towel for a blanket, and made her as comfy as possible in the living room chair. I just prayed over her, and rubbed her little cat chin, and behind her ear. She seemed to be breathing calmly now, and I noticed that she had a lot of blood coming from a gash in her stomach. Until then I was thinking it was more internal, but, I mean, I knew it was bad already. 

Another knock. The lady next door was crying, saying how sorry she was, she wanted to help somehow. Now, I really just wanted to be with my cat, but first I assured her I’d handle it just fine, it was to late for a vet, and I just wanted to spend the night watching over my cat. 

I came back to Spots who was still in the same condition, only now Abby (my dog) seemed to be watching over her. Her brother, and best friend Carmel was on one side, and her sister patches on the other. This was strange, and sad, all at once, but the animals weren’t doing anything to bother her so I let them stay. 

Carmel actually licked her a little, and I continued to pet her, and pray. Patches left and found a hiding spot after a while, and then Carmel got down and paced around meowing. I think he was crying. The other two cat went back outside, and Abby just stayed with me and Spots. Eventually Carmel found a hiding spot, and the house was still and quiet. It stayed like that for a long time. I kept at my caring for the cat until her soul departed. Even then, I stayed still watching over her until I had the nerve to do something. Carmel came back too, there at the end. 

I carried her out back, under the trees, and dug a nice hole, but thats when it all set in. Up to that point I was working, thinking logically, maintaining a somewhat normal mind set. Up to that point. I couldn’t move forward until I just let myself be overcome with emotions. So I just sat down with her and cried it all out. Funny how logically I can break down the cycles of grief when I’m not in the middle of it. 

Adam got home at some point and came out there with me. Then he left me alone, and I just laid down with her for a long while, until I couldn’t cry anymore. 

I feel like I’ve buried my soul in that dirt. To many times. I’ve spent to many hours underneath those trees, and to many tears have been shed there. 

Link  —  Posted: April 9, 2014 in Uncategorized
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