A Letter To K.

I'm not going to use your name, before you start to get angry about me spreading your name and reputation all over the internet. You know that this is addressed to you. And I know you'll see it. I know you follow this blog and keep an eye on it so that you can find whatever you can about me and what's going on in my life - you wouldn't have found my personal email address otherwise.

So now that the fact you know this is addressed to you, and the fact that I know you can see it, have been established, I'm going to move on.

I would just send you an email, but as you've probably figured out... I've blocked you everywhere, now. I left you the ability to send Facebook messages in the hopes that that quirky guitarist was still somewhere inside; that he'd come back, and the new version of you would be gone, and we could go back to being friends.

It didn't happen. I gave you many, many chances. And I just cannot handle the messages of harrassment any longer.

You say you care about me, and that you hope I'm doing well.

And then you turn around and send me photographs that are designed to trigger me and make me want to hurt myself.

Do you really think I can believe you when you say you care? Real friends show respect, concern, and politeness. They don't get angry and send hurtful messages, guilt trips, and images designed to give nightmares.

Since you never seemed to want to hear my side of things without going into long, several-page rants, I want you to at least take the time to listen now.

I blocked you because you were speaking inappropriately to me, refusing to give me any peace, saying cruel things about my other friends, and basically harassing me.

It is not appropriate to insist on starting arguments about religion and politics with people you know disagree with you, and refuse to just drop it when they say they'd rather not discuss it - and when they try to end the subject themselves, it is not appropriate to get upset and guilt-trip them/send them pages-long messages stating how you feel on the subject.

It is not appropriate to take the words I've said about my closest friends (how much I appreciate them, how they've helped me, how much I look up to them, how much I care about them, etc.), and insult them outright in emails that sometimes span fifteen pages long. It is not appropriate to call the people I hold most dear to my heart 'power-hungry snakes' and to say that I worship them, that they're my owners, that they have control over my mind, solely because I appreciate their opinions, value their thoughts, and - horror of horrors - actually agree with them on many points.

It is not appropriate to see a blog article a girl writes confessing her struggles with porn, and then go talk to her in chat about it to say that she 'shouldn't feel guilty' and that you had considered or still wanted to 'teach her about it'. I don't know if you realise how creepy and wrong that sounds, but trust me, it does.

It is not appropriate to come to a girl's house after they have explicitly told you that you can't. Lack of warning isn't an excuse. Even if it was, if the girl tells you nearly a week in advance you cannot come over, you have plenty of time to call off any plans you may have formulated.

And another thing... when all of this, plus insults and hurtful words to my beliefs and a mutual friend's beliefs, causes us to block you for our own sanity... it is most certainly not appropriate to send them death threats when your attempts to guilt-trip them into friending you back don't work.

Am I a bad friend for not having time to let you come over very often for nearly a year? Maybe I am.

But look. I turned 15. I entered college. At the same time as high school. My time became severely limited. It wasn't like I decided to completely cut you out of my life but went around visiting other people behind your back. You thought I did when you saw photos of me visiting with friends in Seattle this March, and got really upset.

Here's the deal. They were and are some of my closest friends. I got to spend maybe two hours with them that day; I was meeting two of them in person for the first time, and seeing another of them again for the first time in six months. So yeah; I did take some time off from school to visit with friends that I rarely, if ever, see. You spent a year or more getting to visit with me once every month or every two months. You had no right to get upset because I decided to take a few hours out of my day to spend with friends that weren't you.

Am I a bad friend for starting to chat to you less online before I blocked you? Maybe I am.

But when I came to dread coming online in the evenings because I knew I would find pages-long rants on what I believe, how I live, who my friends are and how awful you think they are... I just did not want to talk to you, because you would expect me to respond to those rants when all I wanted to do was forget them.

When I never knew what would be waiting for me on Skype or in my inbox - whether it would be more verbal abuse towards my friends or my religion, or another inappropriate comment on my addictions - of course I began to dread messaging you.

Am I a bad friend for not telling you exactly how I felt, and for oftentimes not explaining to you why various things you did or said bothered me? Maybe I am.

But I knew you wouldn't listen. Both me and our mutual friend tried telling you over and over and over again to please stop saying and doing stuff, but you refused. I knew you wouldn't stop doing things, so I stopped asking.

I rarely tell anyone exactly how I feel and what my emotions are. I only tell people I completely trust, and there are only a handful of people I do trust with everything. Even less now, because time and time again, people prove they can't be trusted.

After the dramatic disaster in 2012 due to making the wrong friends, my trust in people was lowered considerably. I apologise for not trusting you, but quite honestly, I knew that if it was something to do with my religion or my beliefs that I was having trouble with, you wouldn't be able to focus past that to help me - you'd only be able to rant about them.

Am I a bad friend for blocking you? Maybe I am.

But I needed to in order to protect my already fragile sanity and emotions. I am dealing with college homework and crazy emotions I've never felt before. I'm trying to get back into writing, and I'm spending as much time as possible with people I've sworn to protect, comfort, and try to help. I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life, because I've tried to push reality away for so long, I find myself nearly 18 and completely uncertain about where I'm headed, what I want to do, what is going to happen to me, and whether I can handle whatever life throws at me.

I did not and do not have the energy or the strength to have to wake up every day terrified of what rants, guilt-trips, or innuendos were awaiting me online.

Even after I blocked you, you could not respect my wishes. You railed at our mutual friend about it, managed to work in a few more jabs at my friends, and then sent me guilt-trip after guilt-trip by whatever means you could.

And then you sent me and our mutual friend death threats.

You fell silent for a while, until you found out that you could still send me messages on Facebook. You would claim to care about me and miss me... and then make jabs about people, or jabs at how I was a bad person.

I put up with it, still hoping beyond hope that the quiet, musical guy I met at the lake would come back, and I wouldn't have to worry about... this new person I didn't recognise.

It never happened. And a few nights ago, you sent me a picture - whether it was photomanipulated or not, I don't know, but it doesn't matter - of a person who had cut the words 'I'm fine' into their arm with a knife, and told me that I should make that my avatar.

That was the last blow. I was online late, and I already find myself paralyzed by fear most nights. But that message set me to shaking and I couldn't stop. Talking to some of my brothers helped comfort me, but it didn't help completely.

I feel worthless and guilty about my own existence enough as it is. I don't need you trying to reinforce the guilt and the fear.

I blocked you there. So I'm writing you a message here. Because like I said, I know you watch this blog.

You know something else? I did research. What you've said to me and our mutual friend could land you in prison for five to ten years if you actually meant them - harrassment and death threats. You could also receive a heavy fine. Think on that for a second.

And I have one last thing to say before I close.

I won't be adding you back until you show me in some way that you've changed and that you aren't only trying to manipulate my emotions.

My entire life and my entire emotional structure have been messed-up because of your threats and your words and your stopping by my house when I told you not to, like some real-life stalker.

Because I was already scared of leaving the house, but now I'm terrified, because I have no idea whether your threats were real and whether you're lurking in the bushes somewhere. I'm terrified in the mornings to go outside without a rock in the hand because I'm afraid you're going to appear from around the corner and attack me.

Because I can't even turn my back to people anymore. I go to the post office and I have to edge awkwardly along the counter because I can't bear to turn my back to the people behind me. I go on walks alone and I can't stop looking over my shoulder. I spend the afternoon with one of my best friends, and I can't even sit down at the table to eat until I have my back to the wall.

Because I can hardly trust any of my friends anymore except for the few closest ones, all due to the fact that someone I once thought was a friend suddenly started to treat me the way you did.

I already had anxiety disorders before all this happened. Now I'm point-blank terrified if I try to leave the safety of my house. I don't want to be left at home alone because I'm afraid you'll randomly show up.

I have nightmares about you showing up to make good on your death threats. Nightmares where I'm trying to hide but you get into the house anyway and the people, whether friends or police, that I called, to beg for help and ask them to come over, don't arrive in time.

I feel the need to carry around rocks and knives in my pockets because I don't know who might try to sneak up behind me.

I regret not knowing how to shoot a gun. I regret not remembering half of the stuff I learned in my martial arts class years ago.

Do I believe you'll do something? Maybe. But mostly, my irrational anxiety has turned into full-blown, irrational fear to do anything without someone I trust by my side. Because I was threatened, manipulated. My emotions were ignored. My thoughts, beliefs, and feelings were put down as wrong. Someone I thought was a friend disregarded my wishes and came by my house without permission, invading my personal space multiple times.

This is why I cannot and will not friend you again. Not until I've heard you've changed.

And even if you do change, please know that it's going to take a long, long time for me to trust you again. I've been betrayed and manipulated too many times, and the way you acted and the things you said were the things that made me snap. I'm completely broken and shaken-up, and feel as though I cannot trust anyone. I have tons of friends and acquaintances - I only fully trust seven now. And only three of them are guys.

Please keep all of this in mind and think about it instead of just throwing it out as me being overly-dramatic, ridiculous, or stupid again. Because it took a lot to write this letter to you and have to post it on my blog where everyone can see it. I wouldn't have done so, if I actually had an outlet I hadn't blocked you from in which to send it.

Please actually consider my words important for once.

And please think about them. That's all I ask. I'm not telling you to change or do anything against your will. I'm just telling you why I did what I did and asking you not to put it off as stupidity like you used to when we argued about everything under the sun. If you respond, I probably won't reply, because I need time to try to mend, to get rid of all the emotions brought on from what I personally consider as traumatic, whether others do or not.

Thank you in advance. I sincerely hope you're doing well.

Regards,

Theodora Ashcraft

Physical Touch - The Five Love Languages: Part 1

(Before we start, a big thank-you to my sister Snow for 'donating' the last photograph, and for seeking permission from those involved, so that I could use a 'real-life' picture for an example. <3)

This series of blog articles has been long in coming - I've been planning them out for months, as well as writing and rewriting, then deleting and starting all over again. I don't think I'll ever get them perfect, so what I have come up with shall just have to do.

The next six posts will be on the Five Love Languages. The first five will be in-depth opinions on each of the languages, and the sixth will be a sort of epilogue explaining them as a whole. I will add that I have no particular organization for the posts, so I may address different aspects or opinions for one love language than I do for another - there aren't any bullet-point subjects I'm going to address in every single article.

With that out of the way, let's get started.

~

I'm starting with physical touch because it's my own love language. And it is the most misunderstood among Christians (mainly very conservative ones and/or legalists), I've noticed. Words of affirmation also gets a lot of hate in such circles, but I won't be going into that one today.

The love language of physical touch is basically when you show someone you care about - family member, spouse, friend, acquaintance, a stranger who needs comfort, anyone at all - love and comfort by touching them in some way. This is the description for physical touch from the Five Love Languages website:

A person whose primary language is Physical Touch is, not surprisingly, very touchy. Hugs, pats on the back, and thoughtful touches on the arm—they can all be ways to show excitement, concern, care, and love. Physical presence and accessibility are crucial, while neglect or abuse can be unforgivable and destructive. Appropriate and timely touches communicate warmth, safety, and love to you.


I can hear the ones unaccustomed to such a love language exclaiming in wide-eyed horror, "Physical touch?!"

Physical touch doesn't have to be intimate in the way it is between a husband and wife, you know.

Here's a question for all of you. Ignoring the fact this is a drawing and not a real photograph - this depicts Jesus hugging a girl. Christians often talk about Christ 'holding us in His arms'. Does that mean they love each other romantically or are dating? Erm... no.  So why does physical touch = romantic thoughts/intimacy with our brothers and sisters in Christ?

Hugs, holding hands, a pat on the back or shoulder, a handshake that goes on for a few seconds longer than normal, dancing, playing with someone's hair (usually in the case of girls, but it doesn't have to be; close friends can too without a problem), high-fives... the possibilities are endless.

The 'love tank' is a concept talked about often when it comes to the Five Love Languages. In order to completely fill a person's love tank (i.e., make them feel completely loved), you need to at least try to figure out what their primary love languages are and attempt to love them in that way.

If their love language is Words of Affirmation, compliment and encourage them a lot. If their love language is Gifts, try to give them a special gift every so often, even if it's something small. If their love language is Physical Touch, give them more hugs and touch them on the shoulder or what-not more often. They will come away feeling totally and completely loved, whereas if you try to show them love in a different way... well, they'll still feel loved, but not as much as if you had shown them you love them (as a friend or otherwise) in the way their love language calls for.

Me, physical touch is my love language through and through. If you want me to feel safe or comforted or loved, hug me or play with my hair or put an arm around me - stuff like that.

There is one misconception about physical touch that I have heard so often it angers me. Yes, angers me.

And that is the lie that physical touch between anyone but a family member means you love someone romantically, or means you will end up loving them romantically, or means that you and whoever it is are a couple.

THAT IS JUST NOT TRUE. I'm sorry for the caps, but like I said, this infuriates me.



Hugging a friend or a person of the opposite gender frequently or even once doesn't mean you'll all of a sudden, one day, have a burst of fireworks explode over your head, hear an angelic chorus playing in the background, and think, "I am in love with this person, and I am going to date them because I will die without them".

Sorry, but no. That's not true. And by the way, dancing with a person of the opposite gender or holding hands with them won't have the same effect all the time either. Just so you know. Neither do kisses on the cheek or the forehead, believe it or not.

Oh, and treating friends of the same gender in that way does not make you gay. (Not that being gay is a horrible and bad thing either, by the way. It is in no way an insult. Go ahead and send the hate mail at me for saying that now. :P)

One aspect of physical touch beyond people who feel romantically to each other, and beyond friends and family who love each other, is comfort.

Do these two people look like they're in love? They might be, but what does it look like they're doing? To me, it looks like he's comforting her.

Just face the facts, people - physical touch is comforting to most people. Take, for example, this video of me:

(Don't laugh. I know I'm bad at dancing. At that point in my life, I had taken exactly two dancing lessons, and danced with another person exactly once.)

Oh my gosh! I'm dancing with a man who isn't a blood relative! And he's touching me! He has my hand in his, and he had an arm around me, and everything! I must be dating him, and we must love each other, and we must be planning to get married (until we break up in a few months' time and call the wedding off).

No, sorry. He's from Ireland, and I asked him to dance with me so I could get a video of it for my friends. (Not to mention he was a very gentlemanly adult and wouldn't feel romantically towards me in the first place). This was the second time after my camera had blinked out on me the first time and not gotten the video. So I danced with an adult man twice.

I am not in love with him. I didn't feel romantically towards him. I was having fun. 

Now, anyone who knows me well knows one thing - I am easily scared. When I got up in front of all those people to dance, I was surprised (I had thought we would dance in the back of the room) and scared out of my mind.

His touches - not inappropriate, just simply holding my hand and putting an arm around me when we twirled - calmed me down. They comforted me. His hug and the kiss on the cheek at the end helped me to stop shaking. And then when it was my turn to sing karaoke (something I was point-blank terrified about) came around, it was him who stood by my side and reassured me in the same way he did while we were dancing - putting a hand on my shoulder, giving me a hug or two, etc.

Yes, his dance moves got a bit goofy in the beginning. He was a pretty silly and loves-to-make-people-laugh guy. There was nothing inherently wrong with it.

He wasn't being inappropriate. Trust me, he wouldn't have been with dozens of adults, my brother, and my mom standing right in front of him filming. He was just being a friendly guy who was perceptive enough to notice that when he hugged me or patted my shoulder, I stopped shaking. Nothing more, nothing less. He is from Ireland, a place that - from all the Irish people I've met in person - is unafraid of physical touch among friends.

As for me, I never fell in love with him, I never thought he had any ulterior motives, I never wanted to date him - none of those things. I simply was comforted and having fun. All I was thinking was "I've never danced before and he's so friendly, maybe he'll dance with me; it would be a new experience and I'd like to try dancing at least once in my life" and "I told my sisters I'd get a video of me dancing on this trip".

Physical touch is comforting. There is a reason people hug each other and hold each other after a love one dies. There is a reason children cling to their mothers. There is a reason children in orphanages in impoverished areas who don't get touched or held by anyone grow up to have mental and emotional problems. There is a reason friends and family hug one another when they say goodbye.

Physical touch - being hugged, being held, an arm around your shoulder, and all those things - is one of the main ways of showing comfort. The feeling of someone hugging you lets you know that you are not alone and that there is someone who is going to support you - mentally, emotionally, and physically if need be - in your struggles.

We are all family in Christ. Biological brothers hug biological sisters all the time; fathers hug their daughters and mothers hug their sons. Romans 16:16 even states:

"Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the churches of Christ greet you." (NASB)

Now, that probably - judging by how kisses on the cheek are apparently a somewhat common greeting in Italy - means a kiss on the cheek. I'm not telling all of you to greet everyone with a kiss. That is a bit overboard.

What I am saying is that back in the times of Jesus, things like that were normal. Usually between people of the same gender, from what I can tell (but I am not extremely knowledgeable about the Bible yet, so feel free to correct me), but the principal stands, considering so many people can't even hug someone of the same gender without being called 'gay'.

Most Christians are big on the idea that 'we are all brothers and sisters/family in Christ!'. And you know what? I agree.

And it is because I agree that I say we should stop treating each other like strangers and potential wives or husbands, and start treating each other, first and foremost, as siblings. 

Give each other a hug without worrying about what people will think (unless, of course, the person you are thinking of hugging doesn't like hugs; then show respect, as you would to a sibling). Don't be afraid to hold hands with your best friend, whether they're of the opposite gender or not. Hold someone who is crying, whether they're the same gender or not. Comfort each other with hugs when you're sad or hurting or crying because you have to say goodbye to your friends.

Thank you to Sarah Millz for taking this photograph, and to those involved for allowing me to use it!

Just don't be afraid to hug someone because you 'might develop romantic feelings for them'. The world won't end if you do; unless you have no confidence in your ability to handle such things in a mature, kind, and gentlemanly/ladylike way. And if you're afraid of the fact that 'loving someone like that is dangerous and it hurts'... well... all relationships cause pain. Families cause pain, friends cause pain, significant others cause pain.

Love hurts. It wouldn't be true love - Biblical love - if it didn't hurt. If it was completely painless, where would the preciousness in it be? It would not be as special, because there would be no effort needed. No risk. It would show you only care about a person as long as it doesn't hurt you. You don't care enough about them to love them no matter what. Just a thought.

I think that's all for this post. Keep an eye out for the next post in this series - Words of Affirmation.

God bless,

Theodora Ashcraft

Respect and Personal Space

Everyone claims to know the word. Everyone demands it. Not many actually practise it. I speak of this rather rare thing known as respect.

I'm not going to go into the logic of the word, and the definition. I think we can all agree that respect entails a lot of things - being kind and courteous, allowing people to keep their distance if they need to, not leaping on them for what they believe, etc.

Everyone demands respect. Seriously. Everyone.

The thing is, many don't see fit to give others that respect. The main way this happen, at least as far as I see, is not giving a person space. And that is what I'm focusing on today.

This is not a very organised blog article, so I apologise beforehand if the following words are confusing in any way.

I speak from experience here. Everyone - and that means everyone - needs personal space. They need time to themselves. I love to spend time with people, but even I need my space. Moreso than normal, lately. As I get older, the need to either spend some time on my own every say or only spend time around a few people at a time, grows. I still love people, but unless I'm with someone I trust and love very much, large groups agitate me more than they used to.

So when someone point-blank refuses to give me space, it agitates me further. Sometimes, in bad cases, it makes me want to withdraw entirely and stop talking to anyone. Do I like hugs? Yes. Do I like to talk to people? Yes. But sometimes, even despite the fact I love people, I need to have my personal space. Respect it when I do.

Now, everyone needs personal space. We've established that.

But people who have been broken, or have family/mental/emotional issues... they're different. They may not need respect and space more than anyone else, but they react far more differently than other people.

One thing you cannot do is force them to care about you, force them to listen, force them to feel.

Take a look at some of these specific scenarios. Now, this attempting to force people to feel or something they can't feel or don't want to do applies to anyone, but it especially applies to people who are already struggling.

I heard, once, of this guy. He was 'in love' (or claimed to be) with someone I know. Instead of giving her space when she quite clearly told him she didn't want to talk, and explaining that she did not feel the same way, he continuously texted her and would not let her have a moment's peace.

He was, basically, disrespecting someone he claimed to love. If you love someone, respect someone, you are not going to invade their personal space. You are going to let them move through life at their own speed, with the people they so choose to travel with. If it's meant to be, it will happen. If it's not, then it is of extremely poor taste to continue harassing - yes, continuously messaging and texting someone about a subject and emotions they clearly do not want to talk about nor share is harassing.

Credit to BlimeyCow for the quote, and thank you to Will for finding this meme for me!

Another scenario that is quite simple, but that others seem to forget. If a person tells you they don't want to talk to you, then if you respect and love them, you will give them their space. You won't keep messaging them nonstop, or asking them to talk to you, or following them to the bus stop.

Basically - if you love someone, truly love them, you will respect them. And respecting someone also entails giving them their space.

It's not always black and white. Sometimes a person is afraid to tell another that they don't want to talk, or don't want to do this or that. But there's usually signs, and if you catch them, take heed of them. If a person doesn't want to talk to you, it's almost never because they hate you - it's because they need time to unwind, or they're having a bad day and don't feel like talking, or they need to relax for a while, or, or, or... the possibilities are endless.

These are some of the things that I, personally, consider as disrespecting another's personal space:

- Trying to get them to talk to you when they don't want to.
- Following them everywhere when they've shown discomfort. (Don't laugh, it happens, even with people that don't have bad intentions.)
- Trying to force them to feel something or do something. If they don't love you, then no amount of pestering is going to change that. If they don't want to go to a movie with you, they don't, and guilt-tripping them isn't going to change that.
- Trying to insist that you know best and they need to do what you say. You can gently and lovingly tell someone your concerns, but you should not point-blank say, "You have to do [such and such] because it's bad!"
- Taking their stuff without permission.

Basically, do not do or say anything that will make them uncomfortable; and if you do so unknowingly, then please, for everyone's sanity and safety, stop doing/saying it!

I think that's it for now. This was a spur-of-the-moment blog article; I may or may not write a follow-up that is thought out more. But for now, the bottom line is - respect others' feelings and space. It'll make things easier on both you and them.

Until next time,

Theodora Ashcraft

Mordecai's Story

I don't remember when we found him. I do remember that me and my mom were going to do everything we could to help him, just as we did and do with all stray cats.

See, we leave enough food out for our cats and any strays that happen to pass by. If we see strays, we try to befriend them. When they trust us, we take them to the vet and have them spayed or neutered; we also have the vet give them a check-up and buy any medicine we need to give the cats. When they're all healed, we let them loose. If they decide to stick around, they're always welcome.

Anyway, we leave a bowl of food out for our barn cat every morning. As a result, we often have strays (and occasionally the neighbour's cat) drop by and eat. I have no doubt that many of them drop in for a snack and then leave without me ever knowing they're there.

But some of them stick around - Magi, the dark-striped tabby is one who has been around for a long time. Cloud Dancing, a beautiful silver cat, spent a long time here before moving on; we saw him in the yard of a house on the other side of the neighbourhood. A wandering, drifting cloud; never sticking in one place for too long.

One week some time ago, we noticed that the food was disappearing much faster than it should have if just our cat and Magi were eating from it (Cloud Dancing had left). We thought it must be raccoons, and dismissed it as such.

Then one morning, I happened to look out the window and see a flash of orange. I saw enough to realise it was an orange cat.

I told Mom, and we started to keep an eye out for the mysterious stranger again.

As time went past, we realised that a dangerously gaunt orange tabby cat was eating our food. He was starving, and his fur was dirty and matted. He was covered in scabs, both from fights and from fleas. From his outward appearance, one would have thought he was just a rough-and-tough tomcat who was down on his luck and shouldn't be messed with - or just an 'ugly' cat that didn't deserve pity. Or both.

But one day we took our chances and went outside to approach the cat. We moved slowly. He ran off the first time, scared.

We decided to try again - and the second or third time, after several minutes of speaking gently to him... he walked right up to us and started rubbing his head against our legs, begging for attention. We petted him, and he even let us put him on our laps - you could feel his bones through his fur.

There was no fight when we carefully ushered him into a cat carrier and drove him to the vet. After a few days, we were able to take him home. We were told to keep him confined until he healed from the aftermath of the surgery. We were also given medications for his flea problems.

They had groomed him. He was still skinny, but his fur was no longer matted, and now he got food regularly, and as much as he wanted or needed. He had to stay in the bathroom for a few days. He didn't like it; he wanted to go outside again. But he always welcomed attention. Every time you would enter the bathroom, he would stand up on his hind legs and place his paws on your legs, wanting you to come down to his level and put him on your lap.

After several days of feeding him and keeping him clean, he was ready to go outside. We carried him down the stairs and out the door, and set him down. He immediately bolted, bounding through the grass.

As I turned around to head back in, I felt something crash into my legs from behind. I turned back to see that he had come running back and tackled my legs. I laughed, needless to say.

The days passed, and my mother and I knew that this charming orange tabby was here to stay. We still hadn't named him. My mother is the designated namer, and usually chooses names I would not choose. But her name for him - Mordecai - was okay. I wouldn't have named him that, but I liked it.

Unbeknownst to her, I've nicknamed him two things - my 'little lion', and my 'Cai. He is one of the friendliest cats I have ever met, and he appeared to have taken a shining to me early on. He loves everyone, but I'm the one he tends to run to first.

He has his own bed in the garage beneath a heat lamp next to the two beds belonging to our Russian Blues. He also has his own bed right outside our living room window - a large box padded with blankets and a pillow. Beneath that, he has a wooden cat house fitted with a heating lamp, as well as two bowls for food and water.

He's no longer that malnourished, matted and pitiful little creature he used to be. He's a healthy weight now, and his fur is thick and clean. It has been at least a year now, and he hasn't left. I think Mordecai is here to stay. And I'm overjoyed that he decided to.

Here are some photographs of Mordecai now; I don't have any of him before we rescued him, but you can see him as he is now.

Resting in his bed outside.

He was pretty sleepy, but he still managed to stay awake long enough to let me snap a ton of photographs.

There's my little lion. <3

Just look at those eyes!

Mordecai, chilling out on the front sidewalk.

I love this photograph. The brown and the green perfectly show off his soft orange fur. He has to be the most photogenic cat I've ever met.

He heard my dad out in the driveway when I snapped this photograph, hence why he's looking away.

Mordecai on a warm summer evening, relaxing on the still-warm rocks out back with Bob, our tuxedo/barn cat. This was taken through a window, which is why it's blurry.

My 'Cai is such a wonderful cat. This is why I feel such a need to rescue animals. I could have left this little one to fend for himself because he was 'dirty', or because he looked 'mean'. I could have gone off of how he looked when I first met him, gaunt and beaten up, and thought, "He looks like he gets into fights a lot, he must be mean. I'm not going anywhere near him."

But because my mother and I didn't, we've gained one of the brightest presences in our day-to-day life. You never know what kind of soul might be beneath the surface of the outward appearance - it could be a black soul, or it could be one of the brightest you've ever seen. You just don't know.

That is Mordecai's story. Or, rather... what I know of it. There's no way of knowing what happened to him before I met him. All I know is, I'm so blessed to have found him.

Girls Shouldn't Associate With Men

I hope that (rather bland) title caught your attention. I should probably make it clear right here and now that this is not a blog article about that statement; it is about the falseness of that statement.

The fact is, girls cannot do without a godly, older male influence in their lives, any more than a boy can do without a godly, older female influence in their life. I'm sure that most people, at least in the circle of people I know, would be quick to say that boys need to have a mother figure in their lives, as well as a father figure. A 'functional' family typically has two devoted parents - a mother and father - involved in the raising of the children.

So why do so many people I meet think that if a girl finds a father figure in an older man, then some sort of crime is being committed? Girls desperately need an older male to look up to and learn from in their lives (they also need mothers or older females to learn from, don't get me wrong; but I'm focusing on girls and older males in this article). Trust me on this one.

I know firsthand exactly how detrimental it can be to a girl not to have an older Christian male in her life. I'm proof of the trouble it can cause. This is why.

I've been fortunate enough to grow up in a family with a mom, a dad, and a brother (younger by one year), and to have biological family members as well (I'm adopted) that I keep in touch with.

The problem? My dad is a Christian, but can best be described as a 'lukewarm' Christian. Nor does he take much time to spend with me or the rest of the family; he rarely talks or asks to know about how I'm feeling or what I've been doing. It's been like this for as long as I can remember.

If you asked my mom, she would confirm that 95% of my friends (when I was old enough to make friends) were male, and quite a few of them were older than me. I had two reasons for this. When I was younger-ish, I was constantly searching for an older guy to look up to as a father or an older brother. I longed for that older male influence in my life; a godly brother or father figure who would teach me things, spend time with me, protect me.

Well, as I got a little older (around ten years old), I became an avid tomboy. I had a husky voice and a boyish-looking face, so I spent my time dressed in leather, denim, and camouflage, pretending I was a guy.

Why? I'd learned that that was the only way guys would respect and accept me. None of the guys I met had a good attitude towards girls. So I decided to pretend I was a guy so that I'd stop being looked down on. I still longed deep down for an older guy; a big brother or a father figure. But since I kept being looked down and treated as inferior, I developed the only defense mechanism I could think of, and continued my roughhousing and playfighting with a new group of male friends who thought I was a boy.

After I turned fourteen, I was betrayed by one of my closest friends (a guy), and manipulated/betrayed by one of my other friends (a girl). My trust shattered - but I continued and still do continue to gravitate towards guys as friends.

The reason for that is, one - I was betrayed by both a boy and a girl, so I have an equal amount of distrust for both genders. So it was either stop looking for and making friends altogether, or get over the distrust and keep on trying. Two - I continued to long for that older male influence. I spent the larger portion of my life (nine years or so, give or take a few) constantly pining away for an older brother or a father who actually wanted to invest time in me.

There was a point to that entire monologue - I'm trying to make a point.

Do you see how messed-up I was? And I don't just mean the fact I followed most guys I met around, hoping that I'd finally gain someone to look up to. I had other problems as well - I've read in many places and had it said to me before that a girl needs her father to give her talks on things such as modesty, and how to act around other guys, and other such subjects. I didn't have an older guy reassure me everything was going to be okay; I didn't have a father who spent time with me.

My dad never did any of that, and I didn't have an older guy to turn to for advice on subjects like that - just another female (my mom, and even she didn't give me those talks in extent; just passing comments here and there ["Don't wear that" or "You shouldn't do/say that around guys"]), and that's only one side of the discussion. As a result, I was severely lacking in the knowledge of... basic etiquette, I suppose.

(I did, however, finally end up finding an older male [several, now, actually] that I could look up to. And if you ask any of my friends, they will tell you I've changed immensely for the better in the last year or so, which is how long I've had godly men to look up to and learn from. I'm proof that a girl needs an older male to teach her in order to grow to her full potential.)

So, back to the main topic of this post - the myth 'girls shouldn't associate/be friends with men'.

I disagree with that, about as much as anyone can disagree with anything. Why? Because I never had an older man to look up to, and I know exactly how it affected me.

If a girl is isolated from close relationships with older guys, especially if her own father isn't actively involved in her life (or if she's unfortunate enough to not even have a father), she will have problems, just the same as if she was missing a loving mother in her life. She will constantly be on the lookout for opportunities to be friends with guys - often to her own danger later on, if she has no one to protect and look after her in the first place. Younger girls will be confused, wondering various things - "Why does my daddy not spend much time with me?" "Where is my daddy? All the other kids have a daddy."

Yet, people still continue to insist that a girl cannot have any other male to look up to other than older brothers, her father, and her pastor. Even if that girl (like me) has no older brothers, a father who doesn't invest time in her, and/or doesn't go to church too often.

Yes, the world is corrupted. Yes, many men cannot be trusted (if you come to me and tell me men cannot be trusted, don't bother; you're preaching to the choir there). But here's a news flash - many women cannot be trusted either, perhaps for subtler reasons, but they cannot be nonetheless. It's not like men have the monopoly on being untrustworthy. And another news flash - there's nothing we can do about the corruption of the world.

So why not take a leap of faith and let girls who don't have those male influences in their life try to find one who can help her grow in her faith? I'm not saying to just abandon her to her own devices; not at all. Keep an eye on her and supervise; because yes, the world is corrupted, and you can't be too careful. But don't isolate her completely!

Here, take a look at this Bible verse:

Do not rebuke an older man harshly, but exhort him as if he were your father. Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity. 

- 1 Timothy 5:1-2

I know, it doesn't state explicitly that young women who are much younger than a man should be treated as daughters. But for one, it does say that you should exhort an older man as though he is your father. 

My reason for sharing that verse is this - it doesn't say anywhere in the Bible, and certainly not here, that it is a sin for a girl to treat an older man like a father, and for that man to treat her as a daughter and teach her things that her own biological father is unwilling or unable to teach her. 

And sometimes, a girl doesn't have a biological father willing to do that. So who
can she turn to, if not another father figure?

See, imagine if you lived in a dysfunctional family, with abusive/apathetic parents; or imagine that you live in a family without a father or a mother. Think about how messed-up your life might be. A child needs both their mother and their father - there is no exceptions. (That is also a point for why I'm against gay marriage, but that's a much more controversial topic for a day much further into the future.) A son cannot learn to be the godliest gentleman he can be without a mother or an older female who can treat him like a son and teach him. 

And a daughter cannot learn to be the godliest young lady she can be without a father or father figure to treat her like a daughter and teach her; protect her; comfort her. 

It's hard to grow up without a father to rush to your aid when the nightmares strike, or to investigate the frightening noise in the closet. It's hard to grow up without a father to discipline you, and then remind you afterwards that he still loves you and wants the best for you. It's hard to grow up having to protect yourself - to be forced to learn to fight and look tough - with any means possible (staff, rocks, fists, words, or otherwise) because there is no father or older brother around to protect you. It's hard to grow up without the strong arms of a father to hold you when you cry; to grow up without a warm, deep voice promising to always be there for you and to never let a boy break your heart without severe consequences.

The bottom line is - and take it from someone who has some experience, no matter how meagre - it's hard and oftentimes painful to grow up without a loving father figure to take care of you.

Don't let the corruptness of the world or your own preconceived or biased beliefs keep a girl from finding someone who will treat her like a father. Please, don't. It will cause more harm than good.

Girls shouldn't associate with men? Even if they have broken relationships with their own fathers, or have no father at all?

Wrong. So long as the men are good and seek to emulate Christ in all that they do... girls should most certainly forge friendships (with appropriate supervision, of course) with older men, just as boys should forge friendships with older ladies.

Because there's no getting around the fact - girls of all ages need their daddies. And it's not fair to force them to go through life without that strong, comforting presence. It's just not - trust me on this.

The Mistake of Waiting

Rose Tyler and her dad.

Last night (well, really, it’s tonight; I’m writing this at 10pm on the 11^th of January), I watched a Doctor Who episode—called Father’s Day.

I won’t tell you what it’s about other than it’s about a father and his daughter. I will tell you, though, that by the end of the episode, I was out-and-out sobbing. Yes, I think the saddest episode I’ve ever seen of Doctor Who is, hands-down, The Angels Take Manhattan. And I cried pretty hard after that episode too.

But Father’s Day hit me hard, and made me sob; partly because it revolves around a topic close to my heart. Fathers and daughters. And also family.

Once I stopped crying, I lie there in the dark thinking for quite a while. Time-travel… families…

Regrets.

Peter Allen Tyler—Rose Tyler’s father—regretted not being there for her as she grew up. Granted, he couldn’t help it. But he regretted it nonetheless.

That set off a train of thoughts that eventually brought this blog article together.

See… Father’s Day reminded me that you have to spend as much time as possible with those you love. Be kind to them. Because someday, they won’t be here.

And we don’t have time travel to take us back and make things right, or fix them, or console ourselves by seeing our loved ones one last time.

Anyone who knows me well knows what my biggest fear and greatest phobia is. The people I love dying. I’ve spent many nights panicking and crying, because I thought too long about the days when various people I love won’t be here.

When someone I care about dies, what regrets am I going to have? That I didn’t spend enough time with them? That I was unkind to them, or hurt their feelings (whether on purpose or not)?

I have a friend; Marie (whose name has been changed for sake of privacy). She’s been my friend from about 2008, though we don’t talk often anymore. I never got along with her little brother, Jimmy (name also changed). We were just kids, me and her; I was ten when we first met, I believe.

Much as I hate to admit it, I wasn’t very kind to her brother. We teased him, played practical jokes. It never became bullying; but it wasn’t nice, regardless of that.

And you know what?

Jimmy has a brain tumour now. My mom says he probably won’t live for longer than a year or two.

I can’t begin to describe how awful I feel for how I treated him; how much I want to, yes, take a ride in the TARDIS and go back. Go back and be kinder to him. I so deeply regret teasing and pranking him the way I did.

And I can’t even go make amends now, because he and Marie and their family live much farther away. I don’t think we’ll take the trip to their house anytime soon.

Do you understand what I’m saying?

There is no TARDIS we can use to go back and change things. None of us have a DeLorean we can use to fly back in time.

All we have is now. This day, this hour, this moment.

I don’t spend as much time with my dad as I should; hardly any time, really. I don’t help my mom out very often. And let’s not even go into how I react to my brother’s antics 90% of the time (I can say this, I react in a very exasperated and temperamental way).

When… when they’re gone… how am I going to feel?

Will I regret all the times I shouted at my brother? Will I wish I had made more time to spend with Dad, or talk with Mom?

I can say now, I probably will.

And it’s not just family, as my story about Jimmy shows. It’s friends, and friends’ family members. It’s everyone you meet, on every day of your life.

You never know what might happen. You can say that there’s plenty of time… but to be honest… God doesn’t work around your time schedule. If it’s time for someone you know or meet to go Home… it’s time. He won’t wait for you to give Him consent.

When someone you know you won’t see for a long time, such as a friend visiting from afar or a family member moving away… when someone like that hugs you, hold on tight and don’t let them go. Not for a few good, long seconds. Because you never know if that’s the last hug you’ll ever give them here on this earth. Show them that you love them.

I’m pleading with you. The next time you’re about to lose your temper, snap at someone with some sort of insult, hide out in your bedroom, or spend that extra hour and a half playing a game or watching television…

Think twice. Forgive everyone as God forgave you. Be gentle. Show love and compassion. Shut the technology off and spend time with someone. Laugh with them, talk with them.

I’m not trying to order you around. I’m really not. I’m lying here in bed, crying, because how many people must regret all the time wasted and all the chances lost?

Don’t put yourself through that. Live life to the fullest—serving Christ and showing love to everyone you meet.

This is the moment. It’s now. You never know when someone might be called to go Home. So go that extra mile, give that extra hug, and spend that extra time. Create memories that will endure for decades, and leave glows of love and happiness inside of you whenever you find those memories again.

Don’t make the mistake of putting it off until everything is gone, and all you have left are empty wishes, vain hopes, cold regrets, and bitter ‘if-only-I-had’s.

Don’t make the mistake of waiting until it’s too late.

The Celtic Thunder Cruise 2013 - Day 5

November 5^th, 2013

Grand Caymans (At Port)

Today was amazing—up until the late afternoon. Then it got better again.

I took a lot of pictures of the sunrise! Here those are.

The sunrise as viewed from the back of the ship, I believe.

The water with the sun making it all blindingly bright.

Wasn't the sunrise gorgeous?!

I don't know if you can see it, but that's a rainbow! :D

This is the sunrise picture I'm most proud of. ^_^

I woke up and, as per usual, spent most of the morning eating breakfast and watching TV. I was looking forward to another day of wandering the ship looking for singers, dancers, musicians... I also was looking forward to talking to Sammi again.

Not much happened until we left the ship to go to port; there were no events going on since most people were leaving for port. We waited until everyone else had left so that we could leave without being jostled by crowds. When we left the ship, we had to board a smaller boat that the crew called a ‘tender’.

There isn’t much to say about the Grand Caymans; I took pictures, but the town was pretty boring, and the pictures weren't any good, so I'm not going to show them. XD About 50% of all the stores were diamond or jewelry stores. We weren’t even approached by any interesting characters. We ended up going back to the tenders after about an hour.

Then we had to sit and wait for enough passengers to return so that the tender could go back to the ship. To my happiness, Goitse was sitting in front, and I could see them. I wished I could go talk to them, but I respected their privacy and stayed where I was. I just sat there and watched Tadhg smile. XD It wasn't creepy; I was just shocked that he could be so happy when it was so hot and humid. o_O

Eventually, we got back to the ship. I went up to the front so I could be prepared to leave the tender boat. I was acutely aware that Goitse was right behind me, and struggled not to look over my shoulder and say hello.

Then, a few minutes later, I was back on the ship and heading for our room. We cleaned ourselves up, and then headed out onto the Lido Deck to watch Goitse play their music. I found Sammi, and we chatted. She asked me if I would later photograph her and the Goitse band, and I said I would.

This is a life preserver I took a picture of; it was hanging on the wall next to one of the pools.

Lo and behold, a bit later, she spotted George Donaldson, the only Scottish singer in Celtic Thunder. She asked if he would be weirded out if she went and said ‘hello’, since she knew him so well (she does know him fairly well), and I said he probably wouldn’t. I asked if she would mind me tagging along and getting a photo, and she said ‘not at all’.

We made our way up to that section of the deck, and stood there, waiting for other women to stop talking to him. Sammi said hello to him, and they chatted for a few minutes. When they stopped, I tentatively moved forward and asked if he would mind taking a picture with me. He said he didn’t mind, and I gave Sammi the camera.

George is 42, and a very fatherly guy to most people. I was apparently no exception—he put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a very tight side-hug. It was tight enough that I had to rest my head on his shoulder so it wasn’t quite as awkward. Sammi snapped the picture, and I thanked George before leaving with Sammi again.

Me and George Donaldson! ^_^

(Side-note, but the hug wasn’t inappropriate at all. :P One thing I’ve noticed about the Irish and Scottish guys is that they tend to hug people a lot, no matter who they are, and usually pretty tight. It doesn’t mean there’s anything creepy going on, and it didn’t now.)

I showed Mom the picture, and then went back to listening to Goitse. After they finished, Sammi gave me her camera and headed up the stairs to get her picture taken. I followed, and snapped photos of her and each of the musicians individually.

Colm Phelan had mentioned his full name before the show. So after I took the picture of him and Sammi, I just had to do it. I asked, “Your last name means ‘wolf’ in Gaelic, doesn’t it?”

He gave me an honest-to-goodness grin and exclaimed, “Very good! It does indeed! How do you know that?”

I shrugged in a shy way and explained that I study both names and Gaelic. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “So what does my first name mean?”

I had looked it up before, but I didn’t remember what it had meant. He gave me a hint by pretending to fly like a bird. I ran off a list of guesses—eagle, hawk, falcon, etc.—but none were right. He said something I couldn’t understand, and didn’t understand when he repeated it.

Then he told me, “Bird of love. The dove; ‘dove’.”

It all came back to me and I nodded, grinning. “That’s it!”

After that, I headed back to the room to get ready for Keith Harkin’s solo show. Last minute, I decided to go up to the top of the ship to see what happened with George Donaldson’s mini-golf tournament—I was planning on just staying there until 3pm, when I would head down to Keith’s show.

Here be the mini-golf course.

Sadly, George didn’t appear until after I left. I chatted to someone for a few minutes; just a random woman whose shirt looked very nice—as it turns out, she had made it herself.

I gave up on waiting for George and headed for the stairs. As I did so, I spotted one of the employees who worked on the ship. His nickname, which had been given to him on the previous cruise ship he had worked one, was Sassy. His real name—or, at least, the name he was using for this cruise—was Kevin, but since I already know a Kevin in person, the name Sassy stuck and was easier for me to remember. That’s what I continue to call him.

I had wanted to take a photo with him for a day or two now, but hadn’t seen him until now. I hesitated, and then headed down the stairs for the Lido Deck.

Halfway there, I changed my mind and ran back up the steps, telling Larry I was going to get a picture taken with Sassy and that I would meet him and Mom back at the room. I walked onto the mini-golf course.

Sammi, who was up there by this point, asked me if I had changed my mind about Keith’s show and was going to stay. I told her I wasn’t, that I was just going to take a photo with Sassy. She readily held out her hand, and I gave her the camera.

I waited for Sassy to get off of his phone, and then went up and said, “Excuse me.” He looked down at me and gave me a bright grin, asking, “Yes?”

I said something like, “Some people call you Sassy, right?” I wanted to make totally certain he was the guy I was looking for, even though his unique voice told me that.

He explained that that had been a nickname of his on a previous cruise. Sammi piped up, “Meaning, ‘don’t call him that anymore’.”

I laughed, and then explained, “Well, I was wondering if I could take a picture with you?”

He looked surprised for a split second, then pleased, and then said, “Of course. I’m not Celtic Thunder, but I can try.”

Sammi cut in again as I stood next to Sassy; she said, “You’re not, but she loves you anyway!”

Sassy put his arm around my shoulder, and a few seconds later, Sammi snapped the photo. I thanked Sassy, then Sammi, and then headed downstairs to go to Keith’s solo show. 

Me and Sassy. XD

When I reached where it was, I found that it was a big theatre. The reason I had wanted to go was because I wanted the chance to take a picture with him. When I found out it was in a huge theatre, I was a tad disappointed but listened to the music anyway.

I know it's a horrible picture, but this is Keith in his solo show. :D

Then someone behind me mentioned that Ryan Kelly, one of the other singers, was doing a pub quiz in one of the lounges—a much smaller space. I asked Mom if we could just opt out and go there instead; I could listen to Keith’s music any time, and always could pay for concerts later on in life. How many chances did I get to listen to Ryan host a quiz, or chances to take photographs with a singer in a smaller room (meaning less crowding than a theatre)?

She said she would check on Larry (who had decided to go back to the golf tournament) to make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble, and then if I wanted to, when she came back, we could go to the quiz.

When she returned, I was waiting for her by the door. We headed to the Ionian Lounge to watch Ryan’s quiz. I had to walk up to the ship employee at the front of the room to ask him if there was a group that still needed another team member. He turned to his microphone and asked if any teams needed another member. Someone raised their hand, and I made my way through the small crowd of people towards them.

The quiz was fun. Ryan had fifty questions, and he sat on a chair at the front of the room by the microphone. He asked each question, and as I found out, the goal was to write your team’s answers down silently—not shout them out. *goes crimson* In my defense, lots of others were doing that too, not just me.

This is Ryan Kelly, reading out one of the questions.

Ryan smiling. ^_^

So that’s what we did. At the end, after the winning team (not mine) received their prizes, I started for the front of the room to timidly ask Ryan if he would mind getting a picture with me before he left.

That’s when the fun started. *sarcasm* :P

All of these elderly women (though some were in their forties), who had lots of money and—as many bragged—had seen Celtic Thunder in concerts more than five times, and had lots of pictures of themselves with the band members, started shoving their way past me to get to Ryan.

I’m not used to this sort of thing, so I was quite confused, and my polite side kept wanting to shut me up and let everyone swarm past. I tried my best to get through. Poor Ryan’s bodyguard/agent eventually had to usher him out.

I left the room to go with Mom back up to the room. I was now feeling rather snappish—I was tired, stressed, and annoyed.

See, as I later explained to Mom... I have a bit of a problem when it comes to elderly, privileged people. :P I don’t hate anyone, certainly not. But when elderly people who have tons of money to spare and have already used it to receive all sorts of crazy things act like each opportunity—no matter how many times they’ve taken the same opportunity—is brand new.

In other words, I can’t stand it when they use their money to meet celebrities, and then have the audacity to shove past other people who can’t go to concerts that often to do the same thing they’ve done dozens of times. :P

I know, I’m dumb. But hey, I have my pet peeves, same as anyone else. Mine are just... a lot more stupid than other people’s.

Anyway, after my mom found out why I was snapping at her and Larry, she stopped getting upset with me. We spent the rest of the day wandering around, as far as I remember. Then, after dinner, we made our way to the Caribbean Lounge to watch Celtic Thunder Feud—the ship’s version of the popular game show, Family Feud.

The Celtic Thunder Feud screen.

The entire Celtic Thunder group - Keith Harkin, Emmet Cahill, Ryan Kelly, Colm Keegan, Neil Byrne, and George Donaldson.

Keith giving the audience a silly look.

The Celtic Thunder lads waiting for the other team to answer.

It was hilarious, though some of the questions ended up as typical boy humour. :P Hey, what can you expect from six men who travel with each other several months nonstop out of the year in a tour bus doing concerts, huh? Especially when 90% of the crew is also men.

Anyway. XD I got some of the game on video, and I will go through the videos and attempt to figure out which ones are appropriate. Then I’ll upload those to YouTube along with all my other videos.

After that, we went back to our room. I ‘had school’ to do... really, I just wanted to talk to one of my best friends.

The problem? I only had fifteen minutes left. I rushed through the assignments I had to do, simultaneously chatting with my good friend. But then Mom wanted me to get off and save more than five minutes so she could check the email before we disembarked the ship.

I was waiting for my friend to say goodbye, but Mom was in the background snapping at me. I finally had  to shut down the internet... leaving only four minutes to use to check the email.

She realized I had been chatting to someone, and I got a much-deserved yelling-at. :P I can be a fool sometimes, and I know it. After that was over, we decided to go wander the deck. At... I think 10pm... the Celtic Thunder musicians (not to be confused with the actual singers) would be in the Thunder Pub, and I wanted to go to see if I could possibly get my picture taken with them as well.

An adorable folded-towel-elephant that Samuel, our steward, made for us while we were at dinner.

The Celtic Thunder screen out on the Lido Deck.

Me being a moron and taking random selfies. :P

My brother avoiding the camera, as usual, only this time it was Sherlock Holmes style.

Some yummylicious-looking chocolate rum fudge I wanted to buy but knew I couldn't. XD

We sat out on the Lido Deck for a while, and then made our way to the Thunder Pub. The musicians weren’t there yet—but a lot of people were. There were no nearby seats left, so I stood and leaned against the wall, fiddling with my camera.

Shortly after, one of the employees approached me with a chair and set it down, saying, “Here you are, ma’am.”

I felt all warm and fuzzy inside, thanked him, and sat down. Then I went back to fiddling with my camera.

My hand, along with my brand-new bracelet. It says 'Theodora'.

The pretty shamrock pattern on the carpet. XD

The musicians arrived and started tuning their instruments. Then Mom came up to me and sat down in another chair that the employee had provided.

A few minutes later, she nodded to a point across the room and whispered, “Isn’t that one of the singers?”

I strained to see through the dimly-lit atmosphere, and was shocked to see none other than Keith Harkin standing across the room. I think I may have placed my hand over my mouth and murmured, “Oh my gosh, I cannot believe this.”

She urged me to go up to him quickly and ask for a picture before everyone noticed and mobbed him. I hesitated, reluctant, but got up my courage and walked up to him. I tapped him on the shoulder, and when he looked at me, asked him if he would mind taking a photo with me. He said, “Of course not!”

I pointed across the room to where Mom had the camera ready, and then stood next to Keith. He put an arm on my shoulder, and Mom snapped a photo. Keith said, “There ya go.” I thanked him and went back over to Mom.

Me and Keith Harkin! :D

Unfortunately, people then started approaching Keith. :P He wasn’t mobbed, but one person after another kept coming up to him. Eventually, he hid behind one of the columns in the bar so that people walking past in the hallway wouldn’t notice him (they kept noticing him from out there).

Then he inconspicuously sat down at the piano bar where the musicians were playing. Everyone was so focused on the musicians, they didn’t even notice that one of the singers had sat down across or beside them.

I filmed a bit of the musicians’ show, and then Mom said that we should go. I had already gotten the one photo Sammi had told me I would never get—one with Keith—and that should be good enough. (Yes... Mom is very competitive. :P) I rather wanted to stay up later and wait for the musicians to finish, but I didn’t dare argue. I followed her back to the room, where I immediately uploaded the videos and photos to my laptop and typed in this journal until bedtime.

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 7