There used to be a real nice older couple who used to live next door. They were probably in their late 70s or so. They were the only ones on our block that I knew, not well, but I knew their names and we would say hi to each other. One day they left for a trip and before they left they told me that if their son came by to call the police. They didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask, you know bygones be bygones and so on. Anyway, one day about a month ater they left in their RV the son shows up in his beat up ass old RV and parks it in front of the house next door. I didn’t know it was the son and didn’t think much of it except for the weird ugly green RV on the street. One day I was out front working on my bike and like 20 cop cars show up (not much action for cops here so for anything above a parking ticket and they call the cavalry). I hear someone jump out a window yelling and he runs out the back of the house down this dirt hill in the back of the houses as the cops swarm the house with guns drawn. It was like an episode of Cops, the ghetto bird (helicopter) and all. This was about 7 years ago and since then I have never seen Marv (the older guy) or his wife, but the son (Scott) is around all the time and has had about 3 or 4 such raids on the house since he has lived there. It is a really weird situation, the old couple just disappeared. I have no idea what the whole story is but it is all very peculiar. I came to find out a couple years ago that the nasty green RV was a mobile meth lab and Scott is a pretty good sized drug dealer (physiacally an also in terms of drug sales). The house next door has been the subject of all sorts of weird goings on but the reason Im giving you the background is because the neighborhood smells like cat pee. Why, you ask? Well, because not only is the house next door a drug house but they had a few animals. They had two dogs and 2 cats. Luckily the dogs were spayed and neutered, but the cats spawned like 25 other cats and they just roam the freakin neighborhood. I love animals a whole lot, I really do, but stray cats that pee everywhere an make the neighborhood smell like the Carlsbad Caverns are not why I love animals. They are all really cute and when I see one that looks malnourished I always put some food out or water. There are seriously like 20 cats though, its like freakin Bangladesh or something around here. The dogs roam around the neighborhood too, humpin other dogs and crappin on lawns. The dogs are nice when I play with them or pet them. They are neighborhood dogs I guess. No one else likes them and the drug dealers take shitty care of them so I give them love when I can. Luckily they dont hit the dogs or anything, they just dont pay attention to them.

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I have thought about my childhood and I came to the realization that in some ways I feel that I am an adult but I am not completely there yet. I suppose any twenty six year old would be in the same boat. My family was not religious or had many traditions so our rite of passage was a little more under the radar than most. I can recall when I got my driver’s license my mom and dad had a long drawn out talk about responsibility and adult regulations, and I think that was when my life went from a narrow “what fun thing am I gonna do today” view of the world, to “oh my god there are more people than just me that my life affects”, mentality. Suddenly I had a car that needed the gas tank filled, the oil changed, the windows cleaned, and I had to be the one to do that. That was not even the scariest part; I came to the grim realization that I had to pay for these things. Soon after receiving my license I joined the working class. Driving myself began a chain reaction, or really a flood of adulthood. One instant I was playing hide and go seek and the other I was flipping pizzas and filling gas tanks. My rite of passage was not just the single moment of driving, but more of maintaining this privilege by holding a job and keeping good grades. My family recognizes the passing of the baton from childhood to adulthood and they begin to ask more of me as well.
My family still treats me as if I were just a little younger than I am, though, because I am the youngest of the children. My mom mostly, I think because if I stay young in her eyes than she doesn’t worry about me as much. It can be frustrating at times because I would like to be treated as I were an equal and I do not get that respect. Graduating college is the final step into complete adulthood in my family. Marriage and a family is important, but in my parent’s eyes, none of those could or should be accomplished without a degree. That idea has been instilled in all of us children so we believe that that idea holds true. I would like to believe that I am an adult, but for now I enjoy my youth and I realize that I do have responsibility, but I still have a lot of growing up to do and there will be a time in my life where I really feel like I have completely stepped into adulthood. I hope that I am prepared when that moment comes.

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Holy rites are rituals that have meaning within the religion. Such as in Catholicism with the Baptism of a person to show the absolving of sin. Holy rites can be presentational, meaning that they are performed in public to show a particular belief or they can also be representational. Representational rites are those that are not taken in their literal showing, just like in Catholic communion where the wafer represents the body of Christ.

In Islam, praying is a Holy Rite. Praying is a very important aspect of the muslim tradition. It starts by cleansing yourself which signifies the purification of oneself. Then, as they recite prayer, they kneel and touch their head to the ground repetitively. All of this takes place while the followers body is positioned towards Mecca. All of this is presentational as well as representational. The representation being the touching of ones head to the ground, showing their giving of themselves to Allah.

Passover in Judaism is another Holy Rite. During the Passover meal a passage is read out of the Haggadah while the one reading washes his hands to signify what the priests did in the Temple of Jerusalem. Then Parsley is put in water and eaten, as is unleavened bread. Then candles are lit while a prayer is recited and then the poor are invited to join in the seder meal. Before the meal is eaten the story of Exodus is told, which is the story of how Moses led the Jewish slaves out of Egypt. Religious rituals and rites of passage are some of the most important aspects of a religion. Religion is not usually just a belief set, but also a tradition and culture, so these rituals are important for their symbolism as well as the fact that they bring people together.

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This is about a recent event. It’s not that interesting so I made it into a short story. Very short.
It was very cold that night and had been raining for days. The mud pushed its way up and over our tennis shoes as we slowly tip-toed our way to his 1984 Mazda. The truck grumbled as he turned the key; wakening it from its deep slumber. With the wheels spinning out underneath us I was reminded of Seth’s tendency to show off his driving skills.
Dodging jack rabbits on the miry country roads, I felt like something bad was about to take place. Ahead of us laid a small dark lake of water. It was as if a piece of the night sky had broken off and landed on the road. My heart tunneled its way up my throat and out my mouth.
“Slow down Seth,” I cried.
“Don’t worry I drive down this road all the time,” he explained.
I was trying to imagine what in the world he planned on doing. I thought to myself, “does he plan on skiing across this lake?” as I knew that this was something he would try to do. I felt the truck slide to one side and I knew that we were in a mess. We were flung from side to side. All the friction in the world couldn’t help us now. We skid across the formless road like some child’s play thing in the mud. I clenched my hands around the door brace, praying for my life as we hit the ditch with a thud. Balancing on two wheels I thought we might roll over, which I thought could be a little cool. The wheels met the ground again and I slowly unclenched the door brace. I thought about clenching my hands around Seth’s neck when he said,
“That was fun. Lets do it again!
“Ho, yeah lets do,” I said with my characteristic sarcastic attitude.
The End.

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Everyone deserve basic human rights. They just do. There is no reason anyone should have to go without food, clean water, and clothing at the very very least. A way to help ensure that everyone gets what they need is to volunteer. While there is no way to solve everybody’s problems, there are ways to make a difference for individuals and that’s better than not making a difference for anyone. There is a parable about an old man who is walking along a beach where thousands of muscles have washed ashore. As the man walks, he picks up one muscle at a time and tosses it back into the sea. Another man asks him why he’s doing that and tells him that throwing a few back will not matter because there are far to many to save them all. The old man just picks up another muscle, looks at it, and says “It matters to this one.” as he tosses it back into the ocean. Volunteering is a way to make a difference in the lives of individuals. There are several ways to volunteer that don’t require giving away boat loads of money or time. If committing two years to a life of poverty and hut building isn’t an option, there are less drastic means of helping others than signing up with peace corps type organizations. The United Nations has some great volunteer opportunities that can be done from home and only take a few hours a weeks. For example, the UN needs people to research specific information and assist in website design. This can be done from a home computer and will assist the organization in expanding projects so that it can better help people all over the world.

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I don’t feel like people need to spend a lot of money on clothes, but they should still have a defined sense of style that represents who they are. If someone has tons ‘o’ cash and wants to buy only the nicest, most luxurious fabrics to swaddle themselves in, then great! But if Mr. Money Bags is cruising around in his Beemer, wearing a bland cashmere sweater and flashing a gold Rolex, chances are he doesn’t have much of a personality. Or at least he doesn’t look like he does. If you’re a bland person, by all means, wear bland clothes to announce to the world that you know who you are and now they do too. However, if you have spice in your life, try to accentuate it by how you dress. Mr. Money Bags can still look white collar and not come off as an outdated bore, he could ditch the Rolex , on a Breitling and trade his lackluster sweater for a peppy sports coat over an expensive button down. If shopping at thrift stores is more your style, that’s cool too! If you’re a hippie, get clothes that are relaxed, loose, earth-toned or tie-dyed, layer and wear something interesting on your head. If you’re a conservative Christian on a budget, you can always go to Beall’s, get a gold plated cross necklace, modest, high necked blouse, pleated black pants and be off to church, dinner, PTA or anywhere! Fashion doesn’t have to be modern or expensive, but it should be an unmistakable personal statement.

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Scary movies and stories are my favorite things to indulge in. I know it sounds strange to think of terror as an indulgence, but I really do love it. I like the feeling of being scared and jumpy as well as not knowing what is about to happen. Since I’ve seen so many horror flicks it takes a lot to actually scare me these days so I mainly thrive on the suspense more than anything else. However, when a movie comes along that is actually realistic and spooky enough to make me scared, it engulfs me and has me afraid of walking in the dark for days. Working with the Medical Examiner and performing autopsies, blood and guts just isn’t a source of scary anymore for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good slasher flick as much as the next person, but all those are is exciting, not scary for me. Movies that are based on true events or insanely realistic are my favorites. The Strangers, Silence of the Lambs, and The Exorcist, are still scary every time I watch them. In addition to being entertaining little bits of sunshine in my life, watching scary movies with friends or dates always makes for a good time. It is always fun to watch people jump or jump out and scare them during an intense scene. Cuddling up to a guy is also fun during a gory movie. It lets the guy pretend to be big and tough while I pretend that I’m scared and need his manly courage to protect me.

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Airports are great places to meet interesting people. People from all walks of life and nationalities congregate in airports to achieve a common goal. That goal is to get somewhere. Watching how people react to delayed flights or full overhead compartments can tell you a lot about a person and whether or not they are well traveled. A worldly individual will understand and expect it when things go wrong. They will simply sigh and pull out a novel or crossword puzzle and wait. Someone who is anxious and new to the world of flight delays won’t have anything to placate himself with and will think that complaining to the right people will get the plane to move sooner. That silly person doesn’t yet understand that trying to get a plane off the ground before it has the space or mechanical attention it needs just isn’t going to happen. The airline would much rather poo poo an irate person than risk a plane going down. Airports and planes provide a great opportunity to scout out the people who look nice and have an interesting conversation with them. With everyone just sitting around as bored as can be, almost everyone is up for a little friendly conversation. Either that or they are sleeping or yelling. No one wants to talk to an angry passenger or someone who is asleep anyways. Next time you are trapped in an airport, talk to the person next to you. Chances are they have interesting things to say and it never hurts to network with people from all over.

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Relatives can be fickle people. It’s okay to not really care for them very much. I used to struggle with the feeling that I don’t like my step granny. It just didn’t feel right to not like certain family members, after all, they are family right? We are taught to love our family members even if we don’t especially like them. Well, the older I’ve gotten and the more I have developed as a person, I have come to realize that I don’t need to tell myself I like someone just because I should. My big, bad step granny has always made me uncomfortable and shy. When I was young I wasn’t real sure why, but I could never warm up to her. Now that I’m all grown up I can see her evil little ways. The woman is constantly bombarding everyone with petty, pointless little jabs that are intended to chip away at our self esteem until we all go home with our heads hung low while squawks out the front door what a great time she had and to come back soon. It’s like her victory song. Recently, my grandfather, whom I’ve never been extremely close to and who is married to the evil step granny decided to help me pay for my graduate degree….Mmmk, this was an unexpected offer, but we share an interest in the subject and he told me I deserved it. Sweet! Then, after breaking down my expenses, tuition cost, and budget for him in an email like he asked, instead of the extra $5000 a year he said he could do, he comes back with $50.00 a month during each semester. A grand total of $400 a year. Everything helps it really does, but I just know my evil step granny was behind this change of heart. It’s what she does.

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Getting a traffic ticket sucks. This is not a new revelation, I just wanted to go on the record and state that sometimes the law is not fun. On a balmy day in March of this year I was sitting in traffic when I look in my rear view mirror and I see the bubble gum machine going off behind me. Traffic was stop and go and I had been in the same lane for miles, so I was confident in the fact that I had not broken a law. Well, it turns out that I had. I was just hanging up a phone call when I got pulled over and, in compliance with the newly minted hands free law in New Mexico, I was using my hands-free headset that came with my phone. Apparently my headset is not in compliance with the hands-free law. Damn. So there I was, waiting to see a judge about my $212 fine. Court is an interesting place. You have all the people who broke the law, be it wearing headphones or kidnapping a child, all in one place. It surely is a motley crew. That day at the courthouse there was a Halloween party as well. It’s like a little salt on the wound as all the workers are happy, smiling, eating cake, enjoying their freedom while I and my law breaking brethren are shuffled around, waiting in lines, and watching happy civil servants eating cake. Sitting in the hallway waiting to be let into the courtroom makes for some interesting people watching. Folks are strategizing their defense, making new friends with those with similar rap sheets. The contempt and general bad mood of all those who are here is palpable.

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