What's with Me IRL.

So, alot of stuff has happened to me and my family.

    Just to keep you up to date, my dad is currently in Afghanistan, and I miss him a TON. Also my stepdad got laid off at the church he was working at, which sucks. He has got multiple offers from churches and right now we are going through the process of visiting those churches. It's kind of gone down to a small town, or a church in the middle of the boonies. Which is the middle of NOWHERE nowhere. No joke.

   Oh, and my mom's pregnant. It'll be her fifth.

    I have been really really really REALLY struggling with the fact that we will have to move. That I will have to leave my church family, my work, my school and theater. Because I wanted to graduate from the high school I'm at. And I can't. I can't.
    Also, theater. I LOVED THE PEOPLE AT MY THEATER. I wanted to work my way to the top. Now, wherever I go, I'll be at the bottom. Again. And I BLED FOR THE DICTATORSHIP I'M CURRENTLY IN. (soefjwlerijfhawieoruqja;mwoejrw.) I'm just glad I don't have to fuss and cry about being in Ensemble B, because I won't even be there to be looked down upon. Won't even be there. And maybe when my director calls my name, and they're like 'she moved.' Someone might think about what talent I have or haven't displayed.
   Church. I will miss those people SO much. I can't even go into that building without being upset.

   You guys don't understand. Cincinnati, is NOT a nice city. It plans on chewing you up and spitting you out the very minute you step on that rocky soil. And people weren't used to my constant wit and deep-fried sarcasm. They're more tightly knit then a grandma's sweater. It took people about a year to fully warm up to me. And a few guys are starting to give me looks, like you know, those kind of looks. And I'm leaving. After winning a battle. And I'm more pissed and upset than I've ever been ever.

  Because I was ready. I was ready to spend my next two years at Sycamore and graduate in 2014 with a class that I'd spent four years with. I'd move out to an Ohioan college who had the best bargain. And that's what would happen. But no.

   I, I can't handle it. I CAN'T. I mean, do you know what kind of love life you have in a new place? At first, you're ogled. You're stared at so much, you could be walking around naked and you would get the same amount of eyeballs on you. Then, they ignore you, you could be nonexistent, you're not on their radar. They go out with the girls they've known since third grade. By the end of the year you've spent in that hellhole, they realize, hey, she's actually a person, and start being friendly and friends, and you actually have people to hug. By the middle to the last bit of your second year, they start giving looks, some develop a liking towards you (which, BTW they never voice) even a itty bitty crush. And THEN you move. And the vicious cycle repeats itself.

   At this point, I just know I'm going to have one hell of a goodbye party.

Over and out.
Love,
Cailin

Have any advice? Leave a comment, or email me at tenderheart21496@yahoo.com yep. Or tweet me. That would be sweet.

Through My Eyes: Part 1

    The doors open, people come in droves, some walking, some running.Vitales are set out, coffee is poured as news and nods are exchanged. People mingle and hug one another.

    A signal is given and everybody goes into a main room. Music starts to play and people stand up and start to sing. Standing up and looking around, many have scars on their bodies, some have slash marks on their faces, chests, legs, stomachs. There is a corner where a group of persons are washing and wrapping wounds, quietly soothing when someone cries out in pain. The music stops, people sit. The room is very quiet, the group understands that this is a safe place, the outside of the building is surrounded by their enemies. But now, they do not fight, they rest.

   Walking to the front of the room, a man hobbles on crutches. He is the teacher, and undisputed leader. He has a long scar from his ear to his chin, a claw that grazed too deep. He is the most battered of the individuals in this tribe. Speaking softly, he begins to teach, his voice inspiring the congregation by nature. Some weep, others nod their approval. When he finishes, he addresses the people as a whole. He encourages them to keep fighting, that their struggle is not in vain. He fiercely reminds them of the promise, the victories and the risks taken. He bows his head, lifts it, and leaves the main room.

   People stand up, more animated than before. Some go to the corner to receive healing. Many go to the doors. A silence falls. The tribe sharpens their weapons. Soldiers, they draw their swords, their axes, their bows. They can see the enemy behind the translucent doors. Those outside the door have been waiting hungrily, claws extended. The teacher comes to front of the group. He draws his weapon, issuing a cry to battle. The doors open. And they charge.

  This is Church.Through my eyes. 

Over and out.

Love,

Cailin

P.S. 

What's your opinion? 

Comment, or give me a

link to your blog where 

you talked about church

or how much you hate church.

Whatever! Kay, bye.