Scribbler

     I love to write. I’m not sure if it’s because of my Dad’s encouragement of telling me how good of a writer I supposedly am or because I’ve kept a journal for the longest time…I just know that I love hearing the tapping sound of my fingers pressing keys on the keyboard, seeing the letters magically (well magically to me since my mechanic skills are zip) appear on screen, and knowing that what I write can never be forgotten since it is being documented at the same time it takes for me to think it up, quite a time saver actually.

     Writing is a lot like a wish or a dream. Whatever you dream could happen CAN in the pages of a book or the scrolling down of a computer mouse. And this dream can never be thrown away or forgotten. It will stay with you forever and always.

     I, like hundreds of others I’m sure, want to be a famous writer. I want what I write to touch the hearts of thousands, millions, all around the world. Hearts of people I don’t even know…people I’ve never even met or seen. I want to write books that bring these men and women, teens and tweens, closer to God. Books that make my readers cry, laugh, and inspire them to go the distance. My only question at this time of my life is how?? How can I set other hearts on fire when my own is blank! Yes, I know what I would love to happen, oh, what great things I could imagine… Autographing my novels in a Barnes-n-noble with thousands of people who know the book backwards and forwards and can quote my work better than I… But if it’s just a cute and popular story; does that really count?? Have I achieved my goal?? I would say I could settle…but I doubt I’d be contently happy. Because there would still be this part of me knowing that I had dreamt of something more.

                                              ~*~

     I want to thank all you who have taken the time to read what I have written so far in my blog. I don’t know if it’s any good, or worth reading for that matter, but I want to thank you anyway. You are a great encouragement!

The Scary Truth

    It's about that time of year when the stores are filled with skeletons, goblins, and witches. You know the time has come when you suddenly slam into a dead thing at Walmart. Yes, it’s almost time for *spooky organ music plays* Halloween.


   For most people, it’s evident that saying “Halloween” isn’t Christian because Halloween is the holiday for the dead. Instead, we find that saying “Harvest Festival” separates us from the creepy, devil worshiping acts of other people. But did you know that “Halloween” first meant “Saint’s Day”?? A complete inverse of what most people think today.

   All in all, Halloween is a very touchy subject to speak of. But I am not talking about the pagan holiday. I’m talking about the evening when kids set out with empty 99 cent store bags with a mission to conquer the world and come back with a thousand pieces of candy. The night that has the disgustingly sweet smell of sweets in the air, chatter from hyper children, and the enchanting orange glow of Jack-O-Lanterns.

   But something has come to my attention that I must speak of. People have forgotten the joyous tradition of dressing up! Slowly, every year costumes are dissolving away leaving kids with a handful of candy and a pair of old and smelly blue jeans. They have lost the excitement of being someone that they could only dream of being; they have lost sight that for only one evening of the year they CAN be superman, a fairy, or a knight. Some people throw that great privilege away. Don’t let it be you. I’m Mysterious Rose, and that’s The Scary Truth.

Mannequins and their plot for revenge!! (Read at your own risk)

 *telephone rings. PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE BEEP. Beep!*
     Oh, the dreaded department store, a place where thousands of people of all shapes and sizes come together to share one action in common for two hours. They have all come to... *shudder* shop. Why people find spending hundreds of dollars on two lousy pieces of clothing just to drive home and realize either a) the clothes doesn't fit, or b) that it's dry clean only is truly beyond me. And as these optimistic shoppers browse the shelves for something, ANYTHING to spend their money on, little do they know they are constantly being watched.

    Eyes are upon them from the second they enter to the first step out the exit door. Whose? Why, the conceited eyes of the mannequins, of course!...*clears throat* These models with their poise and beauty portray the look that you, the shopper, are evidently sure to succeed after spending half your year’s allowance (or paycheck) on a pair of beat up old jeans, about half a T-shirt, a belt, fedora, and (please don’t forget) shoes. Over the years, these overgrown dolls have been made to look more and more like regular human beings. They are given casual poses, hair, and facial expressions to show joy, pride, or even sorrow.

   The common customer may not think twice about why the mannequins are there in the store to begin with, but have you? If you were to study logic, you would know that mannequins are a form of propaganda called “transfer”. (And since not many people do study logic, I’ll explain) The store (or advertiser) wants you to transfer your feelings about one object to another. In this case, you transfer your feelings about the mannequin to the apparel worn. By now, you’re probably thinking, “I have no feelings toward the mannequin”. But if you have ever purchased an article of clothing because it just so happened to catch your eye on a massive puppet, then you have.

    Mannequins are usually tall, slim, and all together good-looking; are they not? And for some weird reason, we, the people with the ‘moola’, are given this idea that we will look just as good as the dolls do when we wear the same clothes. Then in the dressing room, to our shock and dismay we find that…we don’t. Why is that?! Because it doesn’t matter how hard sculptures try, they can’t make a figure that looks like an attractive human but is still realistic. Because we are made in God’s image and we are ALL different. Not all of us can be THAT physically fit and if we were life would be boring. We might as well choose our own spots at a JCPenny and and strike a pose!

     Yes, those dolls will still be there at Macy’s to point out how much better they look compared to us. But at least now, you will have a different mind-set the next time you spill your Starbucks and drop the latest sale items all over the floor for being freaked out that, that “person” isn’t a person at all! Also, another bonus in the end is we’re not the one’s called the “dummies”. =-)


P.S.

*whispers* Forget what I just said and hear this!! The mannequins have taken over Kohl's, are holding me and several others hostage, and they are developing a plan to take over department stores all over the world! Call everybody we gotta sto--*click. Dail tone. Beeeeep*

Why "The Mysterious Rose"?

       Now, a person would think that just by reading my title you can know all there is to know about me (or the blog), right? *shakes head* Sorry to disapoint but my title says absalutely "natha" about who I am or what my blog's about. (Actually, the only reason I picked it was because I have a small golden vase to the left of my laptop and in it are a metal and wooden flower.) And no, it's not because I'm that girly...actually, now-a-days friends are still shocked when they see me wear pink.
      Yep, it may always be a mystery...maybe that's why they call me "The Mysterious Rose" *dramatic music plays*

Welcome [insert your name here] to blogging!

I welcome you (and myself) to the world of blogging! (Now, I've never done this before so bare with me...)


Isn't it amazing how having a blog relates to owning your own little slice of the world?? A section to call your own. Ever thought of that??

A crazy place of reading over people's shoulder to see what's happening in their life and what they are up to without having to ask one question. Creepy, right?? What in the world would convince someone to do such a thing??! Well, I can think up a million reasons: peer pressure, wanting to connect with friends, curiosity...but none of these refer to me. No sirree.

Okay, I might admit to curiosity. I would sneak up a creepy staircase just so I can know what's on the other side *gives one of her friends a look*. And maybe I had a crazy idea that someone will read this and say, "this gal looks like she can go places". Not for movies, (I mean, don't get me wrong I love theater, singing, dancing etc.) but for my writing. "A writer needs to go places. Study and meet new people" -Jo March, Little Women [May not be exactly what she says, but close]