A Pagan and an Agnostic Walk into a Church…

Sounds like the start to a bad joke doesn’t it? Actually, it’s sort of the tagline for these past two weeks because, drum roll please, I got married! Looking back on it now, it went by in such a blur. There were hiccups along the way but overall it was such a magical day that I will remember for the rest of my life.

When I was a girl I never thought about what my wedding would be like and even when I started dating Grant, I never really thought far ahead of what the “perfect” ceremony and reception would be. We had a short Lutheran ceremony in my Grandparent’s church (where I am also still a member) followed by a brunch reception at a local historical mansion house. We had gorgeous weather, amazing company, and delectable food.

My emotions were running very high that day. I am not a crier; unless there’s something incredibly tragic, I don’t cry. On the day of my wedding I cried perhaps more than I have in my life. It started with the walk down the aisle. Many of you know that my father has been sick; up until a few months ago he could barely walk. The fact that my Dad could not only be healthy enough to attend my wedding, but to walk me down the aisle and participate in the father/daughter dance, brought tears to my eyes. These tears lasted all the way down the aisle. I was quite the blubbering mess when I arrived at the altar.

The ceremony itself as was so surreal. As we stood up there, reading our vows to each other (pictured below) it felt like we were the only people in there (clichéd, I know). When the Pastor told us to “Kiss and Embrace,” we even both paused, not hearing him and not realizing we were that far along in the ceremony. However, it goes well with me not hearing Grant’s proposal. Our awkwardness continued throughout that day but hey, it’s us.

The reception was also a blur. It was amazing to see so many people that I love and care about gathering in one place to celebrate our special day. That also brought tears to my eyes. Then toasts started and yeah, I lost it both during the Maid of Honor and Best Man toast. Seriously, that day turned my cynical heart into such a mushy mess.

The honeymoon was heavenly. It took me about a day to get used to the fact that I had nothing to do but relax and enjoy the lake. We hiked a little, laid out in the sun a little, and just enjoyed the first few days of marriage. After that we returned home to our house. Last weekend we spent umpteen hours moving boxes, wedding presents, furniture, and all the rest of our worldly possession into our new home. We’re still in the process of settling in but of course I have the kitchen completely unpacked and have already made some wonderful dishes.

My life has started a new chapter. I am still the same witty, nerdy, dark, and sarcastic Sam but with a different last name (though I will be keeping Samantha Curtin for Author, Blog, and Non-personal Social Media Purposes). I’m looking forward to this summer where we get to enjoy our new house, our new marriage, and our new life together.

First picture courtesy of our wedding photographer, Jessica Eastburn.

Atavism and Affinity

Technology has been both our curse and our gift. Information can now be at record speed; you can communicate with people in ways you could never before and records can be kept a lot easier. On the flipside books are starting to become obsolete (which as a writer really saddens me), newspapers and other news sources aside from websites are becoming less popular, and people are communicating more, but actually interacting less. The latter part then brings me to the first word in the title of this post: Atavism.

Now for those of you who don’t know, atavism is another word for regression. With technology we are regressing as a species even though as a society we seem to be progressing. Our speech, how we spell things, grammar and even non-existent words have been on the decline since the introduction of these technologies. My go to example for this phenomenon happens to come from a movie. I actually don’t like this very much as a movie, but as an anthropological study is ingenious. I’m talking of course about 2001: A Space Odyssey. The whole concept of this movie is evolution both of man and of technology. The movie starts out with a bunch of apes circling around this monolith that shows up. The apes are confused, grunting at each other, and trying to communicate what is going on but it is hard since they have yet to develop speech.

Then the movie fast forwards to 2001 (which for a movie that was made in 1968 is the distant future) where technology has overtaken man. It becomes a race between man and computer to obtain this very same monolith that now is on the moon. In the process, man has become cut off from other men due to the computers. This movie then shows a regression back to the days where men were still apes trying to grunt to speak with each other but instead of speech being the issue technology is. This of course leads us to the next word: Affinity.

What is affinity you ask? Put simply, it is connection between two or more individuals; connection that we are now losing because of technology. Now with texting, emailing, Facebook, twitter and all the other social media devices we don’t ever have to actually see a person to correspond with them. In fact I have been equally guilty of this as anyone. Technology has made us impersonal.

There is however another side to this affinity. Technology has actually helped us connect better in some cases than we ever could before, with people we would never have met if it wasn’t for that. The greatest example is twitter (since you all know that I am a twitter addict). For me twitter is a place that I have met tons of people who live all around the world that have my same interests. These are people who I would’ve never had the chance to meet before twitter and other social media. Even this very blog couldn’t be produced without the aid of technology.

So am I telling you to get rid of all technology? No of course not; gods know I couldn’t survive without it. What I’m hoping is that this will make you think about it more and use other avenues than strictly technological ones to communicate, gather information, read, etc. There needs to be a balance like in everything else, balance that the auditor was severely lacking the other day. Now we have come full circle in this little saga here which as you know always continues and will never reach a stopping point just as technological advances will also.

House Hunting and Spirit Encounters

Life has gotten insanely crazy lately. On top of the wedding planning, school, and work, these past few months we’ve been house hunting. When we first started looking it was quite fun to search online to see what we could afford, what neighborhoods were best, what areas would work for both of our commutes, and so on. We found an awesome realtor who quickly started showing us around to homes in different areas of central Maryland.

To say it was tiring is an understatement. For the month of March and beginning of April it seemed like every night after work we were journeying around to all different homes. We fought bad traffic, bad weather, sketchy neighborhoods, and pushy realtors. That in itself was exhausting but when we started I didn’t really think of the other aspect to it: the psychic aspect of house hunting.

It’s no secret that since I was young I see spirits everywhere. The different places I’ve lived in and visited have left me with a bank of stories that I could fill a book with (and one day am planning on it). Just in these past months alone I’ve had more encounters than I do around Samhain (which since the veil is thin I have the most encounters around). That is what happens when you’re going into other people’s homes, especially the older homes.

At first it didn’t really cross my mind so I didn’t “prepare” at all to go into these other people’s houses that were full of history and in many cases spirits. One of the first houses we went into was built in the 70s. It had the very stereotypical colors, wood paneling, and even had a wet bar with a fish tank in it. Clearly it also had some memories/people that had hung around from that era as well, because as soon as I walked into the basement I felt like there were people staring at me. It made the hair on my arms stand up. It wasn’t necessarily a menacing stare, but eyes were definitely watching me. That’s when I realized that the next time I went into a house I was going to make sure my protection shields were up.

This first house I actually liked despite whoever/whatever was in that basement. The second house I did not. Not only did the street it was on not appeal to me, and the steps down to the basement worry that I would tumble down, but there was something in that house that didn’t want us there. After about five minutes we left; there was no way that I was going to stay in there.

The next few houses I had a mix of emotions/encounters in. There were a couple that I felt nothing at all (just didn’t like the house), some that there was definitely a presence but a non-threatening one, and others that felt like pure evil. Two in particular I remember very clearly; they were in the same neighborhood.

The first one was one that definitely had something non-human. It was a house that a married couple with three kids had renovated but hadn’t quite finished it. The basement was half finished and the bathroom looked like it was hodgepodged together with whatever cheap fixtures they could find. Also in that basement was a heaviness that caused me to have trouble breathing and my heart to race. This culminated in something that I saw in the unfinished, dirty shower of that basement bathroom. It was a strange, short figure that was sort of hunched over by where the faucet of the bathtub should be. It appeared humanoid but the proportions seemed off somehow, like the head was too big for its small body. At first my curiosity got the best of me and I peered in more to get a good look at it. That’s when I heard a strange hissing in my ear. That’s also when I rushed out of there. Our realtor could sense something was wrong and I explained to him that there was something in that basement and I never wanted to go into that house again (which as usual Grant sort of rolled his eyes at).

The second one that I remember distinctively was an old Cape Cod that was built in the 60s. It had a small first floor, basement, and the attic was converted into two small bedrooms. The basement was nicely furnished and nothing seemed off about it. The kitchen was nice and big and the upstairs attic bedrooms were also pretty spacious despite the low ceiling. It was up there though that something touched me. It was nothing antagonizing, just a playful tug on my arm. In fact part of me found it endearing, almost as if I child wanted me to play with him/her. The attic was painted white and the sun streamed in and I imagined children playing up there; it made me smile. In the end though that house just didn’t work for us since there was only one bathroom and a lot of it needed to be renovated.

So our house hunting continued. Some houses I liked, others I felt bad things after I stepped over the threshold that sent me right back out. Then about three weeks ago we found it: the perfect house, in the perfect neighborhood, with the perfect vibes. In the kitchen I felt a presence but it was warm and inviting as if it wanted us to live there. The bedrooms were perfect sizes, the backyard was huge, and the garage could fit both our cars and Grant’s motorcycle. All in all it gave off that feeling that we belonged here and that whatever spirit(s) were in that house were welcoming ones. Long story short, we will be moving into that house at the beginning of June after we get back from our honeymoon.

What this draining experience has taught me is that you never know what you’re walking into when you’re entering other people’s homes. They can be great but can also be full of horrors as well. It’s very possible though that the horrors were never seen by the families living there. For me whenever I go into an area with spirits, they like to come out and make their presence known to me. It is my hope that the entities in our new home will grow with us and become part of our home just as we will become part of theirs.

Image from: http://www.thealmightyguru.com/Halloween/Monsters/Images/HauntedHouse1.jpg

The Road Not Taken

As a technical editor for the government, I see a lot of strange, ridiculous, and annoying mistakes made in documents. Since I work in the classified space, all of the content (including the mistakes) can’t leave my work computer. However, last week there came a mistake so face-palm inducing that I had to share it (in fact I ranted about it on Facebook). Of course the actual content I’m leaving out but the general idea my boss cleared me to write about.

The document I was editing was another training document like the ones I see every day. Some are dry and others try to captivate the audience. Those that captivate I give a thumbs up since the area of Security/IT/GIS can be a little bit monotonous and uninteresting at times. This person tried to liven it up by throwing in some literary analogies. I was excited; not only did I love that idea but they were using one of my all-time favorite poems: The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. For those of you not familiar with the poem this is, I have featured it below:

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The message of this poem is one that I really take to heart: there are many paths that you can take in your life but if you take the one “less traveled by” then in the end you will come out on top. It is a sentiment that I hold dear along with this poem, so when someone mucks it up I get irritable. The way it was used in the context of the document was that no matter what road you take, in the end the fact that you got to your destination is what matters.

NO.

That is not what this poem means; I’m all for interpreting things in your own way but that’s just plain wrong. They completely missed the point, the core of this poem. Even worse, because this is an IT/Security environment they don’t much care if the interpretation is right but only that the reader is engaged. Cue major eye-twitching on my part which is the reason I wrote this post; I just couldn’t let it stand. Have you all ever seen such a blatant misinterpretation of literature before? I’d love to hear of any similar instances.

*Poem and image lifted from: http://kacabiru.wordpress.com/2010/08/24/the-road-not-taken/*

Burial Culture

Humans have been burying their dead for thousands of years. In fact, according to the fossil record, Neanderthals were the first humanoids to bury their dead over 300,000 years ago (Tappen). The first known burial site in existence was 300,000 years ago at the site of Atepuerca, Spain. At this burial site, over 32 individuals were found in a pit cave. In later years, around 100,000 years ago, there was evidence of bones being stained with red ochre (Thames). This leads archaeologists to believe that even back then there was something ritualistic and spiritual about burying the dead.

Fast forward thousands of years and we see evidence of ancient cultures all around the globe practicing various forms of burials. Some of these burials were done for practical reasons, some as a sign of respect for the leaders, and even others as means to protect the person in their next life. For most people, what comes to mind most is the tombs of the Pharaohs in Egypt. They were buried in lavish sarcophaguses, that were placed in giant tombs, where they were surrounded by most of their worldly possessions and even sometimes, their pets. The Cahokia Mounds are another example of this among the Mississippian River Cultures of 600 to 1400 C.E. The mounds are really burial sites of their leaders.

Despite all of these sites and other archaeological evidence, there are still of a lot of questions that are unanswered regarding ancient, ritual burials. In our modern society, ritual burials are just another part of life. Someone dies, and we spend thousands of dollars to pick out a burial site, casket, and head stone. We echo the practices of many of the ancients to ensure that the dead are well taken care of and spend the rest of their eternity in a comfortable (and sometimes excessively lavish) space.

Though burial sites are fascinating to me, I don’t quite understand the point to all of them. Maybe it’s my scientific background that overshadows my spiritual one, but once the soul leaves the body, to me, the body is just a shell. It’s just flesh and bone. Our society’s obsession with the dead, though warranted, is something that I still have a hard time wrapping my head around. Sure I do find graveyards beautiful, and in many of my stories they play a significant part, but in some ways it’s kind of a waste.

The comfort that some people find in visiting gravesites is just lost on me. I’m more likely to just address a family member that has passed in their homes or just wherever I happen to be. When I die I’m donating my body to the body farm. Might was well use my decaying flesh to help further then study of forensics rather than wasting away in a decorated pine box.

References:

Tappen, N.C. 1985. The Dentition of the “Old Man” of La Chapelle-aux-Saints and Inferences Concerning Neanderthal Behavior. American Journal of Physical Anthropology 67(1):43-50.

The Prehistory of the Mind: The Cognitive Origins of Art, Religion and Science. Thames & Hudson. 1996. ISBN 0-500-05081-3.

Image is from the Kebara Cave Burial Site in modern day Israel.

Caution, Bumpy Ride Ahead

I have always joked that I am a nerd trapped in a jock’s body. From a young age I played sports and was active. In high school and college I spent most of my free time in the gym or participating in team sports. That being said, I was never happy with the physical condition of my body. I was healthy but overweight and had been since Middle School. Never did it stop me from doing anything, but I never wanted to show off my body. I hid under T-shirts and sweatshirts, shuddered at the thought of swimsuits, and dreaded having to go shopping.

After college I decided that it was time to makes some changes, notably with my diet. I had been exposed to a lot of vegetarian food in college so I decided that I was going to become a vegetarian. At first it was hard, and then it got even harder. After about three months as a vegetarian I switched to eating fish again. That seemed to be the right balance for me. Still the weight wasn’t coming off like I had hoped. I upped my cardio and it seemed to help but by the time 2011 came to an end, I still had only lost about 10 pounds.

Then I started to evaluate what I was eating. Sure I had cut out meat, but I was in the beginning of my relationship with Grant and we were going out to eat a lot. 2012 rolled around and I was determined to get the weight off. I cut down on eating out, all frozen meals, sodas, processed foods, refined sugars, and really anything that wasn’t natural. At the end of 2012 I weighed 140 pounds, 45 pounds less than at my heaviest of 185.

The next year of 2013, I started off well. I was sticking to my healthy eating, was working out 6 days a week, and was feeling lean and mean. Then August of 2013 hit me like a bus. I found myself unemployed and with my Dad near death in the hospital. I slipped into a bit of a depression and turned to food to comfort me. I gained back about 15 pounds from the lowest of 140.

Once I came out of my funk, found a kick-ass job, and saw my Dad was getting better each day, I decided that enough was enough. Not only did I want to be back to my fighting weight, but that I wanted to be stronger. It was a little hard during the Holidays of 2013 but I managed to not gain too much more. Once 2014 hit, I hit the ground running. I started to mix things up: I explored different exercise classes including Trampoline Yoga and Floor and Chair Dancing, I cut way down on sweets, limited carb intake, started making healthy smoothies, and resisted the urge to eat out as much as possible.

In addition, I found that best way to fit all of this extra working out into my busy schedule was workout DVDs. I found a couple that I liked, but fell in love with the Jillian Michaels “Ripped in 30” regimen. It pushed me to go to places I’ve never gone before, made me scream and curse, but I loved it. After finishing the 30 day regimen I have since incorporated those moves into my everyday workout routines (and pop in the DVD every now and again for that extra push).

The reason I was telling people I was working out was to fit into my wedding dress. That was true, but it was so much more than that. Right now I am 145 pounds. I am not the skinniest I have been in these past few years but I am in the best shape I’ve been in my entire life. I enjoy showing off my body now, even my curves which I have grown to love.

At 24 years old, I finally am in love with my body. I actually enjoy shopping rather than dreading it, I care about what I wear, and I actually, dare I say it, feel hot! Not only that but everything else about me looks/feels better: my skin is clearer, my hair is healthier, my chronic sprained ankle is better, I can run farther/faster, and the list goes on and on. Then there’s the effect I’m having on others (and really the reason I’m writing this blog post) to eat healthier and get more exercise. It CAN be done. It’s not easy and requires a lot of sweat and tears but anyone can do it. It’s not so much about losing the weight; it’s about being healthy and loving the body that you’re in. If you take nothing else away from this post remember that.

Dark Hall Preview

“Oh, well of course I can always harness some more brain cells…” Aeden smiled but it faded as Ciaran walked over to aisle of the Dining Hall where they stood, “Awesome…” he said under his breath.

“Since when do you hang out with this Kraten, Darcy?” Ciaran smirked.

“Watch your tongue!” Darcy spat, “And get out of our way.”

They started to walk passed him but he stepped in front of them, “So you think you can play Gorgan, huh Kraten? Take Magical Studies and suddenly, poof! You’re one of us?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how it works Ciaran…” Darcy rolled her eyes as she took Aedan’s hand and walked passed him.

“Trust me Kraten! Mess with our women and you’re going to feel the wrath!”

“Oh stuff it Ciaran!” Aedan yelled stopping and turning back around, “You know I’m really sick of this whole thing you have going on. It’s not going to work on me. You can pummel me, call me names, and whatever but it won’t change anything. I’m still smarter than you and better than you at pretty much everything in life. In fact, the only thing you can do is insult people. I mean you’re still taking mostly 1st year classes! Better get used to this campus…”

Ciaran was about to charge at Aedan but all of the sudden he stopped. A gurgling sound came from him and all of the sudden he grabbed his stomach and sunk to the ground. He started to gasp for air as foam came out of his mouth. Aedan and Darcy stared in horror as Ciaran flopped around on the ground and some students ran and got a teacher.

“Let’s go,” Darcy said pulling him away from the scene.

Aedan didn’t move at first but then did as a couple of the staff members ran over. He followed Darcy out of the hall and all the way to the Hadrick building where their Magical Studies class was. They were breathing heavily as they quickly took their seats with the rest of the class that was starting to fill up. Darcy shared the same look of horror on her face that Aedan had. Sure both of them wanted Ciaran to shut his mouth, but they didn’t want whatever that was to happen.

Image is a royalty free stock photo.