Gods Boot Camp

I’ve always felt like God has had a purpose for me, he has always showed me things I needed to know or what other people needed to know and to the best of my ability I have used that knowledge to do Gods work, whether I knew it at the time or not. People would come to me and ask me questions or tell me what’s going on and I would just know how to respond, tell them what I was supposed to. Now what people did with that knowledge was up to them and I usually don’t get to see the outcome. He also sends me dreams. I have always thought they were just dreams, but they kept re-occurring and unlike most of my dreams, these I did not forget. Dreams of floods, marshal law, disasters, and concentration camps. Dreams of me speaking in front of large crowds of people, knowing that I will very likely die for my words. Dreams I can remember almost every detail of even now, years later.

I believe that everything is a lesson, there is a reason for everything that happens and that God will move me onto the next lesson when the time comes, wherever and whatever that might be.

A few month ago, a customer came up to me and we got to talking. She introduced me to a magazine called: Activated, which is a Christian magazine that is amazing and only $10 a year to subscribe to. She told me that she is a missionary and we just talked in few minute spans while I worked.  About a month ago she come up to me suddenly and told me that God spoke to her. She told me that I was a chosen one. I just looked at her like she had two heads, and even now, I’m not completely sure what that means; but it felt right, like I’ve known that all along. Gods plan for me. She told me that she had planned to go back to Latin America on her mission but instead she was going to stay, that I needed to meet with her. So once a week we meet up at Denny’s and discuss God, his plan, what God has done in the week since we last saw each other and  then we go into that weeks lesson.

In just four weeks more questions have been answered and I have learned that my dreams are not dreams but visions of what is going to happen (SOON!). She told me that I am not the only one having them, that what I described for different areas has been seen by others as well. I’ve learned that the words I tell other people, the ones people come to me seeking are Gods. That being a chosen one means God speaks through me and gives me the visions to prepare for what’s to come. It’s amazing and very, very scary. I have seen The End, and what comes after. The End is not the world ending, it’s the end of what we know to be now. We are in The End times, RIGHT NOW! It is coming, and there will be chaos, tests, lives lost, war, killing, and life will continue. But it wont be the same life we know now, that must be understood. And those of us who believe, who let God guide us; we will be able to help. To part water, and defeat the giants. We will be the ones that step up to address the crowds and show people the way when everyone in power is tell us a different story.

I laughed when Barbra and I dubbed our meetings Gods Boot Camp at tonight meeting. But again, it felt right. We have such a short amount of time to figure all of this out. To take Gods word and absorbs the messages we are meant to learn from them and apply them to the here and now as well as being given understanding to what has already happened.

So as The End draws closer, where will you stand? Now is a good time to start figuring it all out. Don’t be afraid, it will all work out the way it’s supposed to, and if you LOVE God and your NEIGHBORS, you have nothing to fear!

Night Out

My ears feel like they should be bleeding. But that’s nothing compared to my throat.

I don’t go out much, not like that. Okay, perhaps I should say: at all. A friend of mine at work had her birthday yesterday and invited two of us out to the local pub where the band The Be Sharps (comprised of all co-workers from the Starbucks in our parking lot) they were really good! Somehow word spread and two people coming turned into four and in the end eleven. Only seven of actually made it, everyone of us there working in my department with the exception of an employee from the dairy department. We ignored the thick cigarette smoke in the air and are all regretting that now, as well as sitting at the table a mere three feet from the band. There was a lot of yelling, with our hands cupped around the ear of the person we were trying to talk to. (They still could not hear us.)

The next band was Letters to Voltron. Good God they were bad. Sometimes they had a beat, sometimes. Their music was comprised of mostly random hard noise and screaming. We all drank a lot at this point, determined to stay and see The Be Sharps again after Voltron was done. The mother of our group and I had fun pretending to head bang and play our air guitar much to the shock and awe of the rest of our overworked group. Here was the shy, quiet, introvert who rarely goes out and the older, mature, friendly, mother figure standing in the corner of our large wood table head banging and playing the air guitar to the none beat. It was fun! We all agreed that Letters to Voltron, no longer needed to send letters back to their home planet, but should instead go back there themselves and not return.

After the bar, at 1:30AM (A time our birthday girl had not seen since she was in her twenties) (Now in her forties) we all dragged ourselves over to Denny’s where there Ultimate Skillet (with no sausage) never, ever tasted so good before. I doubt it will ever taste that good again and I ate every crumb off that skillet.

Naturally this is the time we all decided to check our schedules to see what time we have to be up. Our mother figure: 6AM, Me: 7:30AM the rest of them were either off or had a shift that started in the PM.  (They suck!) I woke up a mere three hours after going to bed, feeling sleep deprived with a severely sore throat and burning ears. Mother figure was much the same. There was a lot of Ibuprofen involved at the beginning, middle and end of our shift.

Dark Shadow

Today was a busy day in the deli. A crowed of people stood at the counter waiting for food or service. It was 1:25 PM, and  the entire store went suddenly dark, like a dark shadow passed though from the right side of the store to the left. It was very quick, my entire crew and I stopped what we were doing.

“Did anyone else see that?” Sandy, our lead; asked. We all nodded, “Good, because I thought I was going blind.”

We then began to talk about what we thought it was before we turned to the customers to ask what they thought. That’s when we found out that no one else seen it. Our customers were looking at us like we were insane.

So what was the dark shadow? What do you think?

What’s in a Name?

Naming the characters in my Senkrad novels has been one of the toughest things so far in writing. How do I find that perfect name? It has to not only fit, but describe the people I am creating. (Because you don’t describe your characters, they describe themselves, as they take on lives of their own; they have no problem telling you the name you chose is wrong.)

I started my naming adventure with a baby book. Simple, to the point, here is thousands of names, where the name is from and what it means in that culture. Great, helpful unless you’re my characters.  As my story grows, personality’s change; what was once the perfect name is now completely wrong. Do I keep them to the end, then change them risking calling them the wrong name later, because it’s the name I’ve been writing for years and years? Do I randomly choose a name off my Facebook page and forget it? Or do I keep the names I have because that’s the names I will remember. (And I am horrible at remembering names, ask my best friend!)

Names are very important, they are what everyone will remember, even if they never read your book. If I say Edward Cullen to you or Harry Potter (to name two extremely popular characters.) even if you have never touched Twilight or The Sorcerer’s Stone, you know.

So how do you choose your names? Do you keep them or change them?

The Sounds of Writing

What do you listen to when you write? Most will say music, which is my preference; however as I was sitting at the restaurant I prefer to write at I got to wondering what it was about this restaurant that made my muse so active that other places didn’t.

Atmosphere is a big one I suppose, Denny’s and Taco Bell’s A/C are kept at artic levels and I feel strange walking around in 112°F heat with a heavy jacket over my arm. But I think sound is the key.

I have two favorite writing restaurants, the local hole in the wall pizza place (Paul’s Pizza) where there is only one booth with an outlet and no wifi. And Bullritos where every booth has outlet and free wifi.

Both restaurants are friendly, the staff knows my name, what I order and where ill be sitting. And the sound beyond the music is of people talking and laughing. The staff having warm conversations with the public and themselves. I hear lite, happy sounds and I focus in on my keyboard, letting the words flow.

Taco Bells is to quite. If they have music at all I can’t hear it, and the staff mainly talk to each other in Spanish. I get little to no writing done there, even bundled up in my heavy jacket.

Denny’s on the other hand has in general a hectic noise. People coming in for meetings, on a deadline, or stressing over homework. The staff is yelling at each other for one reason or another, and again I find myself having trouble letting my creative juices flow.

I’ve tried dozens of other restaurants around town, but the sounds are wrong, not inviting. The sounds of staff wanting me to leave so that they don’t have to refill my glass anymore.

On nice days I’ve tried to write at the park. The atmosphere is almost perfect, the only time there is any real stress is when I have to 7get up for any reason, I can’t just ask someone I know to watch my things; I have to stop, close and drag everything with me, turn  hope my spot will still be there when I return.

The sounds are completely different then restaurants. Unless you turn on the music yourself, it’s mostly very quite. You can here the wind passing gently through the leaves of the trees. Children laughing in the distance, but mostly the sound of feet hitting the pavement, scooters rolling past and bicycle tires going by. Occasionally you will here people talking as they walk or sit near you. I often find myself very distracted here, there is so much visually and for someplace so quite there is a lot of sudden noise.

So where is your favorite place to write away from home? What noises make it your spot?

Are Gift Cards Personal?

My mom messaged me asking what I wanted for my birthday. She became upset when I said gift cards to places like iTunes, Kindle and Half Price Books. Gift cards to the movie theater would be well used as well. Or better yet get me internet for my apartment!

She stated her usual about gifts cards not being personal and I told her gift cards could be very personal! A. They’re not going to reclutter my apt. B. I can get exactly what I want, and not have to worry about return policies. C.  As long as it’s to a place I ask for they will make me VERY happy. D. If you really need to personalize something, make it the card you put the gift card in!

Thank you for reading today’s very short rant. This rant is brought to you by parents, birthdays (and inevitably Christmas), clutter, and the uncanny fear of becoming one of those hoarders I see on TV.

Fire!

I had a very short shift scheduled. Two hours starting at 9 PM, do the cafe’s inventory then head home to bed. It’d been a busy day so I was looking forward to eleven so that I could go home and sleep. The inventory went smoothly, Edwin and I are a good team and can get the three to four-hour job of counting everything done in an hour and a half and it’s never takes me longer then half an hour to calculate everything so that it makes since to our boss when she goes to put it in the system. It was when I was calculating my numbers that we first smelled it. Burning plastic? It was a horrible smell. But our store has a lot of ovens so on occasion things will get left on something that is hot and melt. We didn’t think anything of it beyond normal curiosity.

As we were leaving to clock out Edwin and I began to realize that the smell was coming from my department. Since the deli was closed, everyone but me gone I got my first inkling of worry. Without a word, we turned into the deli and began to search for the cause of the smell. Nothing hot was on, but the smell was so strong our eyes were watering. After a long search we gave up and headed toward the time clock once again. We walked past the cheese wall (a long cold wall in the deli we display our cheeses on) only to find that the smell was somehow even more overpowering.

Now it’s not uncommon to see steam come off the cold wall, however this time we had a feeling that what was wisping out was not steam. We quickly began to pull the cheese out from that area trying to find the source. Then there it was. An outlet set in wall to plug lights into was on longer white and perfectly round, it was instead black, melted and unrecognizable. The power has been going out a lot lately, sending power surges around the store. It had already fried two computers. We figured that it had done the same to this outlet. Quickly we grabbed the ASM Angie and thus began one of the longest nights ever.

To make a very LONG story short, no one we talked to on the phone thought it was serious, convinced it could wait until morning. That is until the spark, the fire that shot out of the wall and the yellowish orange light that suddenly appeared behind the wall. Still want us to wait until morning to call anyone in? We stopped listening to the people on the phone right about then. Angie pulled the fire alarm to evacuate the customers, most of which thought was just a drill until the fire truck appeared. Turns out one of the customers is a fire fighter who radioed in our location immediately.

The next hour was spent with the night crew as we pulled the food off the entire wall while Angie continued to try to get a hold of people. Thankfully Sally with the key to get into the breaker room picked up her phone and rushed over. The fire was out, a bunch of wires were cut, and a mini disaster looked to have hit the deli by 2am. By now my boss is here and a big boss has arrived and no one could find the key to turn off the fire alarm. It’s not till three am that one of the thousands of keys we checked lets us silent it. By now even with the alarm off we are having to yell because even after the ringing in our heads stopped it still sounded like every one was talking from a great distance.

Finally the election arrived. He had already worked over 80 hours and you could tell he was no longer really there. On top of that he was getting sick and had this horrible barking cough that he never covered his mouth for. He cursed the damage the fire fighters did to the wiring and panels before doing his job and turning the power back on to the area. He tells us everything looks and sounds good before leaving. My boss then declares that this is a holiday (Labor Day) and that the wall must be put back together by six AM, so I sit in the office and watch the temperature computer waiting for the wall to stop throwing warnings. It doesn’t. Finally I stumbled over there only to find the wall is way to quiet. I curse. The fans have stopped working. Boss is on the phone with the electric company yelling about them coming back now and of course the wall sounded fine, it was silent. He came back, fixed the fans and now we had to wait for the walls temp to drop from 75°F to below 40.

Sally, my boss and I decide now would be a great time for a lunch break so we clock out for lunch and stop by Walgreens for a Red Bull then head out to Denny’s where Sally and I laughed and took pictures of my poor boss who fell asleep in the corner.

I spent the rest of the morning putting the case wall back together.Clocking out at 9am exactly 12 hours after I had clocked in and over 25 hours since I had woken up. I told my boss as I was walking out that I’m calling in for my 10 am shift. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

 

The Tale of the Black Forest Pig

Before beginning my little tale, I should first tell you the story around the tale so that it makes since. I work in a deli. (Yes the vegetarian slices meat and cheese all day to pay the rent and all my other bills.)

One of our meat products is the Black Forest Ham. Now I have no clue how that particular meat got its name, just that it’s smoked and well liked. Often however, I am asked about it and it takes everything in me, not to spin a tale. I can’t do that to a customer, unfortunately; so instead I did it to a co-worker.

I have worked with this co-worker for years, she used to work full-time in the cafe with me before she transferred out. I transferred to Deli and over time she began to work wherever she was needed in the store, which of late has been with me once again. She was helping me re-fill the case when we got to the Black Forest Ham and I grinned up at her seeing my opportunity.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I told the next customer who asks me about this ham that…” And so my short story began.

 

The Tale of the Black Forest Pigs

By: Lauren Freeman

In a far away country there is a forest that is so thick, it’s always as dark as night there. It’s called the Black Forest and is filled with many superstitions and dangerous beliefs. The animals that live in the forest are all either dark dwelling creatures like bats or more often animals that wandered in at some point and adapted. One such animal was a group of large, wild pigs. As time went by, the pigs offspring began to be able to see in the dark the same as we are able to see in the light. Now. over the course of many, many years the forest is now over run by these animals.

It wasn’t until foreigners who don’t take a lot of stock in silly superstitions and beliefs decided to put on night vision goggles and go explore this deep forest filled with these strange large swine’s who eyes glowed an almost goldish green color. At first the hunters were scared, was their stock in those superstitions? Were these creatures evil demons? The three men gathered their courage and decided to move forward. One particularly brave man decided he was going to hunt one of the pigs, and although these pigs had become fast they were no match for the hunters bullets.

Sitting by the fire, watching their catch roast, they began to realize that all of the creatures of the forest were staying far away from them now. The hunter who had killed the pig stated it was because they were afraid of him now, he had obviously proven hat they were the deadliest in the food chain here. Another man, who had a more scientific mind however realized that it was probably because of the bright fire. Even to him, who had only been in the Black Forest for a day, had trouble looking at the fire, as the light hurt his eyes.

When the pig was done cooking, the now ravenous hunters began to devour the poor animal quickly finding that the taste of this pig was the best they had ever had. Was it just this one pig? They hunted another one the next day and found it tasted much the same.

“Maybe it’s how they live?” One hunter stated, in between bites.

“Or what ever it eats.” The scientist of the group mumbled, trying to figure out if he had seen what the pigs had been eating. It didn’t matter. Before long the large Black Forest was known for it’s succulent pork, the pigs of which were bought and sold all over they world. And that is where Black Forest Ham comes from.

The End

 

I looked up, finished now with the case only to see my co-worker standing there with her mouth open, eyes wide.

“Really? I didn’t know that!” I rolled my eyes and laughed.

“It’s not true, I just made all that up. I said wouldn’t it be funny if I told customers that.” I laughed.

“It’s not real? I thought it was real!” She groaned and walked away. I began to laugh hysterically (I hadn’t slept the night before so I was quite loopy by 9:00PM) then the power went out. I took that as a sight that I should just close down and go home, so I did.

Write It Again – With Meaning!

How is it, that I have started writing the first chapter of my Senkrad novel again? I know it will need to be revised, but unlike several other chapters, this one was done, I liked it! Furthermore, in the new chapter one, I wrote the whole thing in first person. Do you know how insane that is, how it will mean I will now have to re-write everything else into first person if I keep it?

But what if first person is the way this series is supposed to be told? What if this is the change I really needed? The thought of having to completely re-write the entire thing into first person is overwhelming. I can give more feeling, more depth to my characters from this point of view but…

So how do I get up the will to do this? I love to write, with everything in me. The hard part is going back, re-writing, editing, changing things I have spent hours agonizing over typing, deleting and typing again. A complete re-write though…

I’ll completely re-write the first three or four chapters, see where it takes me.

Hurricane Season

I watch in wonder, curiosity, excitement as the great storm moves. I close my eyes and pray that everyone makes it out okay in NYC and everywhere the storm hits, then at the same time wish desperately that I was there! Born, raised and having never lived anywhere away from Houston, Texas; I have been in my share of hurricanes without a doubt. Down here we have hurricane parties and wait for it with smiles and excitement. But for the life of me, I have never heard of a hurricane hitting New York! I’m sure one has before, but nothing comes to mind. Is the great island hurricane proofed? Were the buildings built and maintained for these great storms? Did the people closest to the water build their homes above ground? Here, we are prepared for the heavy winds, flooding and torrential rain. We stock up on perishable foods, flashlights and the most important thing of all, battery-powered electronics (FANS!). The wort part of the hurricane for me, is the lack of power (A/C!) for weeks on end.

But what of New York? Are you prepared?  buckle down, enjoy the ride, (the first is always scary.) And most importantly, stay safe!! Good luck and see you on the other side.