I've never really been a public person on my blog. I almost always talk about things writing or reading related. Well, screw it. It's 3:30 in the morning, I'm wide awake, and I think it's time to defenestrate that quirk of mine… at least for tonight.
My internet name is RJ Blain. But as of today, feel free to call me Rebecca, Becca, or Becna, if you wish. That's my real name.
Names matter. A long time ago, I learned why my mother and father named me as they did. My two given names, when converted to old Hebrew, means “Precious Gift.” Or, at least, that's the story one of my parents fed me.
I always wondered about the irony of that name. Some people take the name they are given at their birth and make it their own. I've always been embarrassed by my name — especially the middle part of it. Me? A gift?
Nope, nope, nope, nope. Never bought into it. When I was being teased and bullied in school because I was, heaven forbid, different I definitely didn't feel like a gift to anyone–or precious.
Sometimes I still flinch when someone calls me by my name. Maybe part of that stems from the fact there were more than a few in school who liked to call me Brussels Sprouts because of my name.
Now, granted, I like that delicious vegetable now, but once upon a time, offering me these on a plate was an instant way to cause tears and depression.
Speaking of tears, I cried a couple of times today, to be honest. Some were happy tears. Some weren't. One was due to reading about how one woman decided how to cope with her husband wanting a divorce.
Marriage for me hasn't been sunshine and rainbows, cookies, or a lot of things nice. We have had good moments, but we have had our bitter ones too.
I came away with something important today–wisdom. Maybe even a little bit of courage. But most importantly, hope. If this woman could do it, so can I. Because what she did isn't hard to do. That's what moved me so much.
She suffered, but she did so with grace and hope.
And she saved a marriage most others would have abandoned because it was difficult. Because it wasn't working easily.
I've been married for over ten years now. I'm looking forward to ten more.
I don't have kids. More accurately, we don't. It does take two for that sort of thing… I do have four cats, though. Two of them are getting quite old. One is horribly obese, but we are having nightmares trying to get him to lose weight.
Cutting his food intake and trying to force exercise isn't working. He's the first pet my husband and I acquired together. We don't know how much longer we'll have him.
We've already had the talk about what we'll do when he gets sick and dies. It's inevitable. We've been trying to help him lose weight for a while, but the cat is so stubborn and smart. And when a 30 lbs cat doesn't want to do something… he doesn't do it.
He should weight 20 lbs. He's a huge cat even before the chubby cat syndrome. His head is so big my hand can't cover it all.
Hopefully we can find some way to make him lose weight that actually works.
To switch topics again, I saw something on the internet that made me want to do something. I already contacted two charities about it. It'll cost me some money, but it's for a good cause.
There are programs where you can send books in so prisoners can read. I've known a sad, high number of men and women who have ended up in prison for little things. Things I strongly feel should be handled with community service instead of incarceration.
Prison ruins lives and changes people. Some deserve it. Some don't.
But whether they deserve it or not, I do believe they should have access to books and reading material. I'll put my money where my mouth is and send a copy or two of each book to the various prison book groups I've found from the American Library Association website. I was going to originally send these books to libraries, but…
Well, while it isn't a wise career choice, I think it's the right choice.
I just hope one or two people manage to find a little escape from reading my book. It'll delay my plans of contacting various libraries and trying to get my book in the public library system, but I'm okay with that.
On my birthday, I'm going to leave the addresses of the prison book charity websites up so people who want to can send books over or donate.
It might even become a thing for me to gather titles for these charity groups and send a box every year. Not just my books, but books the prisoners are requesting too.
That sort of thing is important to me. They don't have the chance to get books of their own. And that makes me so sad. Books should be available to everyone, even prisoners.
Perhaps especially prisoners. To some of these men and women, books are the gateway to their lives once outside of prison.
I won't go into it more than that–I have opinions, and a lot of them.
Crap, I just talked about reading. Defenestration in progress! Of who or what, who knows though. Your guess is as good as mine.
Okay, new subject. Greed.
What? Greed? Now that's an odd subject.
I pains me to admit this, but I'm greedy. I am. I see something I want, and I lust for it. I want things. I have ambitions. Ambition is just another word for progressive greed, really. I want to be a bestselling author. That, by default, makes me greedy for the money of readers. Ack. That sounds terrible. True, though.
I have two strange forms of greed I want to mention in particular: Writing journals and gemstones.
The journals are obvious to those who know me. I want an entire bookcase full of unique journals.
But the gemstones thing is different. Loose, cut stones, uncut stones, or stones in crystalline structure. Gemstone sculptures. You name it, I want it.
But there is one type of stone I truly love. (Accepting donations.) This is smoky quartz — charcoal to black in coloration, in natural structure.
It is a common stone. Nothing special, not really. But it's still beautiful to me.
I also love citrine, which is the smokey quartz's yellow cousin.
Quartz: Common, but beloved.
Okay, I'm also greedy in other ways, but that's a secret.
On to a different subject. This might come across as controversial.
I don't have ADD or ADHD, for all I have flitted from subject to subject in this post. I've taken an official IQ test which ranked me as just above threshold for genius IQ. I've mostly wasted that intelligence, at least in terms of what society deems acceptable. I'm an introverted extrovert. (In short, I need interactions with people and tend to be extremely outgoing once I've been forced outside of my bubble…. but after a few hours I must retreat back in my bubble to recharge or I get extremely upset and agitated. I'm sure there's a term for this as a syndrome, although I have no idea what that means.
There was no real point to this blog post, and that's okay. I just wanted to talk.
Good morning. How are you? I'm Rebecca–Becca or Becna, if you prefer. It's nice to meet you.