Bibbity Boppity Back the Fuck Up.

It's too bad that the Disney princesses are classified as "children's movies". It really is. Even as an adult, I'll admit they still have a hold on me.

Not the 'damsel in distress' or the 'one true love' or the 'happily ever afters'. That's all cliche and while I'm sure it gets others through, it just isn't my cup of tea. While there are several of the princesses I find compelling, I find myself drawn back to a select few. Ariel, Belle, Mulan, and Meg. While several of the others have similar aspects or struggles, I personally find these three stand out among the rest.

We'll start with Ariel; she's a young, headstrong, restless young girl who feels out of place in her environment. Despite the counsel of everyone around her she's determined to try and stand on her own, to seek the life SHE is most drawn to. The harder anyone tries to hold her back, the stronger her curiosity gets until her father by all rights betrays her by destroying her sanctuary because 'he knows what's best' and ultimately drives her to Ursula. Initially, she knew she couldn't be trusted but felt she had no other choice. Eventually, Ariel's misplaced trust brought hardship to her family, thankfully because it's a Disney production it all worked out in the end. Ariel's actions are not excused as justifiable, but she is met with understanding.

Belle's another misfit. She lives in a small, quiet village where she finds respite from the mind numbing tedium of day to day life in her books. Sweeping tales that carry her far away and give her a glimpse of adventure and life that she doesn't have the opportunity to experience for herself. Because she doesn't meet her community's standards, her village gossips and mocks her because she isn't like everyone else. Gaston, the self- absorbed, narcissistic, popular 'alpha' of the town tries to interact with her, but only in order to appease his own desires. He finds her just as odd as the rest, but she visually satisfies him and WHO she is doesn't matter so long as he gets what he wants out of her. Then, she finds herself living with a 'Beast'. Someone that seems irredeemable, cruel, and completely self absorbed. When it comes down to it, Belle stands up for the 'Beast' because she sees something within him that no one else sees because they can't get past his outward appearance. She helps him grow as a person and rediscover his humanity. Again, she DOES get a happily ever after because, Disney.

Then there's Mulan who continues our theme of misfits. She's another young woman who finds herself out of place and is ridiculed by her village as a result. Even her own parents struggle to force her to conform to what is 'expected' of her. Instead, she forges her own path and in the end proves she was doing the right thing all along. Before she completes this journey she (like Ariel) damages her relationship with her parents, is shunned by her friends, and finds herself at a place where it seems impossible that she will ever be able to have a 'normal' or 'respectable' life again. She ends up with her Disney ending, but only because she fights for it and takes it for herself.

I save Meg for last because she's not technically a princess. She's a young woman who finds herself paying for a poor choice she made to protect someone she loved. She's left with trust issues, insecurities, and yet still has the fortitude to stand by her own code in the end despite doing terrible things along the way. Like Ariel, her actions are never skewed to be justifiable nor are they really excused, she's understandable. The people who love her in the end forgive her because they see her for who she is, not only what she's done.

The really funny thing is, I'm not a minority for having watched Disney films. I'm not even a minority for enjoying them as adult. Unfortunately, when the movie ends and the DVD is put away or the stream is turned off, that seems to be the end of it. It's done.

But Ariel, Belle, Mulan and Meg are all real. They are people you know. They're the misfit in the crowd. They're that person who lashes out in fear of going through the same heart break again. They're that person who goes back to the same 'bad' person again and again because they're hoping they can help them. They're that person at the party who everyone sits watching the 'spectacle' or makes people 'uncomfortable' and becomes the town's gossip for a while after.

The really sad part is, in real life, the town doesn't typically come around. Ariel, Belle, Mulan, Meg, they're stuck floundering on their own. Meg has a tough time reaching out because she doesn't know who she can really trust, and who's just going to make her situation worse. Ariel, Mulan and Belle feel trapped in their lives, anxious because no matter what they do they just don't fit, they can't seem to find a way to measure up to what's expected of them but they can't find the courage to do or go where they WILL be able to flourish.

It's much easier to sit and judge from a place of comfort or success than to try to relate. It's easier to laugh and talk about what a mess someone is than it is to show compassion. It's uncomfortable to see someone hit their breaking point or lose control.

It's not hard to spot someone who doesn't fit into the crowd like Ariel, Belle, or Mulan. It's difficult for Meg to break through her baggage of anxiety and abuse to reach out, much less trust someone else for help. Meg has all those demons and more that she struggles with every day on her own.

I am Ariel. I am Belle. I am Mulan. I am Meg.

I can't sleep at night because my head never stops. I always have a constant replay of the past on loop in my head. Stupid, little, seemingly trifling things in the day can trigger any of them to the surface. I end up lashing out at people who don't honestly deserve it. Typically, I end up suppressing my opinions, curtailing my behavior because I know that who I am and what I think will only earn me further discomfort. I am the girl who has never been who she 'should be'. Who didn't do what was 'expected of her'. I am the girl who never felt like she fit in her own skin. I am the person who has never felt at home, and has always felt a longing for it. None of it has ever changed. I see things in people that others don't, and frequently against better judgement I fight to bring it to the surface. I regret when I get out of hand. I do recognize when I could have handled a situation better. I know my demons. Nights like this are not unusual that I'm up till 5 in the morning.

I am blessed that I have one person who knows ME. Who knows my story, who knows me. All my best qualities and my darkest demons. Someone who I can tell absolutely anything to and not worry about who else it's going to get back to. Someone who always has and always will have my back unconditionally. Who if I admit I am genuinely in trouble will drop everything to get to me, or HAS called in back up if they cannot make it in time. I have a bond that was strong enough to save me from myself. When I found myself at rock bottom depression they pulled me back and supported me until I was myself again. Bullshit is not tolerated, when I am wrong I am wrong and I am not coddled about it. I can be irresponsible, I can be a mess. I am not stupid. I am not a bad person. I am lost, and I WILL be found.

Not everyone has that. Even mine can't be around all the time. Not everyone in a person's life can be there for anyone else like that. The reality of the situation is no one really has to. Understanding. That can be done. Compassion; that's a realistic goal. Stepping down off one's own high horse and seeing what's really going on. Not actively making someone feel out of place. Not degrading a person just because their view or opinion differs from your own. Not being close minded. Trying. Making an effort just to extend a hand.

Life isn't a Disney movie. Not everyone is going to find their happy ending. Every story isn't the same, not every one is going to find the support, acceptance, or just the understanding they need.

Everyone wants to be/find their own Princess; it's rare to find someone who's willing to pull the stick out of their ass and stop being a self absorbed douche bag to make reality any better.

The Other Side of the Story

First of all if you ever read this, I'm truly sorry. I am tired of being painted as the Master Villain of my own story. But as much as it is my story, it was yours first, and hers before yours. Maybe the reason for that is that no one who knew the story was willing to talk about it. It's easier to be the Wicked Queen then to step up, accept your part, and reject any other mantle others would put upon you.

I am breaking that cycle.

It's funny the muses that come to you in the dark in between hours. When you're so completely alone with yourself that you have that chance to pause and reflect at even the quietest whispers your mind utters. Well, tonight here's mine.

For a long time, as long as I can remember even; everyone has always attributed my personality to my mother and ALWAYS with a negative connotation.

"You sound just like your mother"

"Your mother would be proud, did she teach you that?"

But of course my favorite was;

"Your dad didn't beat you hard enough, you're a bitch just like your mother"

The hilarious part is? They all have it wrong. Oh, of course only an asshole would cut your parent down in front of you like that, or try to make you feel lesser for their part of you. But my mother, for all her faults, can only be blamed for the strongest, most resilient parts of me. Sure, we share a similar visage, and my intonations and laugh are reminiscent of my mom. Someone else however, takes the stage for the less appreciated shades of Tia.

Daddy, take a bow.

I don't want anyone to take this the wrong way. I love my Daddy, very dearly. We butted heads harder than anyone, mainly because we shared the same stubborn, willful spirit. But he was, and always will be, my Daddy.

I had a discussion recently about how children are like putty; we shape them from blank forms into who they become. Sure, there's an argument to be made for nature versus nurture, but there is no denying the impact of an environment on a child. Some are going to adapt strongly, whilst others have a weaker adaption.

I was the prior.

Unfortunately, the traits that others hate so strongly are not so much the result of something that was done directly to me, it was adapting to sway events.

For all that I adore and idolize my Father, he was not a perfect man, he had demons who were very known. My Daddy was an addict, his poisons of preference being cigarettes and alcohol. Daddy liked to go to the bar with his "friends" to sit, drink, play pool, listen to music and "relax". He earned it because he worked every day. He got to the point where it was a near every day thing. When he couldn't afford to go to the bar, or they wouldn't run him another tab, he would simply buy a pack of beer or a bottle or two of liquor on his way home. Suddenly when he was low, his "buddies" didn't seem as prolific. Oh how I remember the arguments. Daddy being incoherent and incapable of keeping a straight conversation but too stubborn to acknowledge it and just pressing away at his "point". It didn't matter what you said, you were wrong. There was no reasoning with Daddy. Depending on if was a certain date, or he was particularly angry, anyone tried to stay out of reach.

That's when I learned how to shout, how to not back down, how to flinch. Which parts of the scalp were most sensitive if you pulled one's hair, the most tender parts of a person's face, where on a throat to grab. I learned how to bite back tears, how to be cold.

But as I said, that was the exception, not the rule. I loved my Daddy. I wanted him home, I wanted to ride my bike with him, and play catch, practice with swords, wrestle, watch Tarzan and Charlie Chan. I wanted to sit up all night watching the classic Hammer Horror flicks, and listen to the stories he told that he truly believed were true. Daddy was my best friend, and I wanted him home with me not out with people who were only friends with him so long as they could use him.

I just had to convince him.

I tried a million different wordings of a million different phrases. I changed my tones and expressions and found out what worked and what didn't. I knew I had to be careful not to "sound like my mother" because he always stopped listening when he thought I did. I was thrilled when it worked, and crushed when it didn't. I can honestly say there's no feeling worse than when the person you care about most picks someone or something over you. Especially if it's a something. Some of my biggest trauma came from knowing I was an option to someone else. It twists your sense of self-worth. What's so wrong with you that you're less important. Should you have said or done something differently? Maybe you really just aren't that important. There are few pains that exceed that of a child who knows their parent chooses to be absent. I hated the people and things Daddy chose over me. I became resentful, suspicious, even apathetic to most people. You're only worth what they can get from you, the minute you don't benefit them they disappear. Gods, do I hate people. So superficial and greedy.

Then while I was in the tender molding hands of school I learned the terrible effects of my Daddy's other love: smoking. Once again, I put my skills of persuasion (my soon to be ex-husband likes the word manipulation) to work to try to get my Daddy to quit. I was terrified that eventually I was going to lose the most important person in my life to smoking. It didn't work. Once again, Daddy's substances were more dear to him than I was. Deeper crept in the guilt. Why couldn't I get Daddy to understand? What if I just explained it differently, tried harder?

It got oh so much worse later. The birthday I'll never forget. Too bad no wish could blow out that candle.

But by that time of course I'd found someone else I loved. Someone who I realized too late I was drawn to because they reminded me of Daddy. The good times were so amazing, but the cycle continued. It continued for a long time. I gave birth to my daughter, and son. I began to hear how much my daughter reminded everyone of me, and saw myself looking at me through her eyes.

It was unacceptable. So, I made the decision my mother couldn't; I stepped off the wheel. I can't say I saved him any more than I did Daddy, though I don't think that path is going to end in the same blaze; but I did free myself. I spent months in my own head, avoiding everyone, hitting the reset as it were. I reconnected with an old friend who helped jar a few other things into place.

Then, when I wasn't really quite ready, I started down a new path. Hopefully I find this one more pleasant, but at least I know to look for familiar road signs.

More to the point, I am not a direct product of my mother. It is my belief that she and I (possibly my Nana and Great Nana as well) are all products of the same man, carried over through generations as unfinished business. I'm simply accepting that sometimes people have to save themselves.

~Night Rose

Trips, motives, and musings.

It's funny how fast time passes. For how quickly time seems to fly by the fleeting moments can contain a lot of events. It seems like I just updated this blog yesterday yet when I look at my last post it was over a year ago. A lot has happened since that yesterday, yet I didn't seem to document any of it.

Here's the thing about this blog- I only update it when I have something to say. For the main reason that the majority of the people I know wouldn't give two shits about the things I post about here. Mainly because the majority of people I know don't really care period. I'm surrounded by facades. Everyone thinks they're so clever; no one could possibly know about their dispassion for everything.

I do.

For example, recently I shared this little slice of myself with two of the people I consider closest to me. I didn't really think the subjects I wrote about here would be overly interesting to either of them, but I wanted to share myself. And while the subjects of the posts may not be interesting, they definitely offer another insight into the insanity that is me.

One of them disappointed me. Badly. It takes a lot of trust for me to share with anyone. Any little piece I give is typically later used for pain, humiliation, or a mix of the two. It takes a lot for me to really share with anyone. I can't say I was surprised by the reaction; but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

...and the other surprised me. Genuinely. I'm still working through their reaction. While I don't think they read it (although I was told it was bookmarked) they thanked me for it. It caught me off guard. Honestly, that particular person does that quite a bit. While the first makes grand gestures to show that I'm "important" (on occasion, when it's convenient) the second does weird, little, every day things. The thing about grand gestures is, they're SUPPOSED to stand out. That's the whole point behind them. They're a means to an end.

Those little gestures though, the mindless ones, those typically show who a person really is. One can say whatever they want but it's the little things they do that show the truth. Concern, compassion, companionship. Even the silly jokes. Interest in unimportant details of a day.

The whole motive may not be clear,  but this trip certainly has given me time for reflection.

~Night Rose

Rememberance and Tolerance

Tonight I will be explaining the significance of tomorrow to my children. Aaron's taking a field trip to a Fire Station to pay respects to firefighters, and Erica's been asked to wear Red, White and Blue.

I will be explaining to them that a group of people sought to bring fear to our country. They wanted to hurt others in order to demonstrate their dedication to what they believed. That many, many innocent people died. And I will be telling them of the brave souls who sacrificed themselves in a Pennsylvania field to ensure they did not become weapons at well. I will tell them of how this one terrible event unified our country, and stoked the flame of patriotism.

I will explain to them that this was done by Terrorists. I will, unfortunately, have to explain to them that many generalize these Terrorists with the term Muslims. For my children, the idea of a Muslim is their aunt, who colors with them and spoils them rotten. Already today my feed is alight with anti-Islamic memes but to blame the actions of a few radicalists on an entire culture is wrong. That is like blaming the picketing of soldier's funerals on ALL Christians rather than on the Westboro Baptists. I'm pretty sure any Christian would be offended to be associated in such a manner, just like my children would hate to see their aunt's people slandered for a crime they did not commit. I am glad that I can teach my children tolerance, and I hope I am not alone.

Remember the Victims and Heroes of 9/11, may they rest in peace and may we who carry their memories do so in honor.

~Night Rose

So... the last post was heartfelt and moving... time for the controversial one.

Well, here it goes.

I'm not Christian.


I support Gay Marriage


I do not support religious advertising, in any form, in a common public forum from ANY religious cult/sect/organization/commune/etc. The ONLY flags that should be displayed in any public place are the flags of Country, State, the P.O.W. flag, or the flag affiliated the location or the company operating it.


No one whether individual or assembly should have the power to condone or ratify actions which cause permanent damage to our planet or its resources. We do not own the planet, it is on loan from our children and it's their throats we slit every time such a decision is made.


Oh, you're still reading. Now we get into the good stuff.


Lately, religious slogans and icons have been being pulled from government buildings and schools. Changes are being made that give religion less influence over the country en masse and limiting overall exposure, particularly with the Christian sects. I have to admit, when this started I let out a breath of relief. Sure, for a little while there was a spike in Pastor Bob trying to "save" you outside your local convenience store, but there was a lessening in the awkward "No, I don't go to church" or "No, my children have no idea who Jesus Christ is except that it's an exclamation of severe frustration" conversations. I was nervous about ever having to testify in court and being made to swear an oath over a Christian bible- 'cause there's no better way to prove your trustworthiness than to lie by swearing to some book you don't give a rat's ass about. Now, a person goes in and it's a reflection of their character, not their religious affiliation. Personally, we've finally come to a time where you aren't allowed to play favorites and give one religious organization more liberties than another, and you don't have to participate in archaic religious practices if they're not your own. You don't have to be wonder if you're going to be tried by the standards of a system that is not your own. You are an American Citizen within the great melting pot of the world- everyone has the same footing. No one gets extra cookies because they follow the same translation of a book that has literally HUNDREDS of different versions, and the majority of the followers of those different versions can't get along with one another but they all want THEIR religion to run the country. Yep. Makes sense to me...

The best part is, they're playing the victim card. "Removing God from schools is the reason for this country's problems", "Gay marriage is damning this country to Hell", pretty much if it isn't influenced by the big J.C. (provided he's the savior of your sect) it's going to send us all into the spiraling infernal praise the lord amen.

Wait a second, "someone else" is responsible for all our woes as a country? Anyone not with the "In Crowd" is lesser? Propaganda that paints differing beliefs and practices as unnatural and dangerous? Heil dem Führer!


...sorry about that, had a flashback to 1930's Germany, during the rise of xenophobia. They thought that the Jews, Polish, Gypsies, and pretty much anyone NOT of the superior German bloodline was to blame for the suffering their country endured after WWI. Now we have a much easier scapegoat. Anyone not willing to have their lives run by a church OR is not completely satisfied with their role as clearly defined to them in one of the versions of the Bible. ESPECIALLY if they are misguided enough to think God sent them down in the wrong form, or find love in a form not clearly outlined by said book.

Speaking of, Gay Marriage. That's another fun one. "Gays shouldn't be allowed to marry because it goes against God's will."

First of all, didn't G give man FREE will? As in, the choice to do as pleases him? According to the whole Adam and Eve story, G pretty much kicked our race out for being disobedient punks anyway. Eventually he came around and killed his own son to punish the race for their misdeeds, and make it so everyone can go back to the party someday. Sounds like he's already admitted he can be a bit of a prick. So, if he was wrong about that subject of free will, and has made mistakes before, what are the chances they weren't made all over the place? And in gruesomely  punishing his own kid (sick, by the way) he tried to make amends for the mistakes that hadn't come to light yet?

Even if the man up stairs does care about what gender a person finds themselves attracted to, the loyal followers made Marriage such a socioeconomic factor, that it really isn't a matter of religion any more. Between tax laws, inheritance laws, insurance practices, custody laws, and all the other areas where marriage status has a direct impact, it really has become an issue of state. Not everyone gets "married" in the Christian custom. Some people just go to the Justice of the Peace and sign some papers. Congratulations, you just signed half of everything you have and are to someone. Hope they're trustworthy. Given that "Gay" love has been recognized as something that exists within our country, how on a legal level does any church feel they have any right to object that they be allowed to be as miserable as the rest of us? For that matter, what makes you think that NOT allowing "Gays" to marry is going to solve anything? They're not going to stop being "Gay" just because they aren't given the same freedoms as everyone else. They're still going to bump uglies, but now on top of being gay it's going to be adultery as well. But at least Marriage is held sacred for people like Linda Wolfe.

In all seriousness though- what real impact does ANY of this have on the life of the average American Christian? Your obnoxious Gay neighbors aren't going anywhere just because you won't let them marry, your Holy Book itself bans religious icons, yet you throw fits to keep them in place. It makes no sense.

Just my opinion, but at least it's out in the open.


~Night Rose

Sea Glass

We all come into this world as beautiful glass bottles- filled to the brim with wonderful goodness to share with the world. Some are sweet, some are bitter, and some are utterly intoxicating. Some give you a sugar rush, and some get better with age.

And some are drained well before their time. Misused, and left broken to try and piece themselves together. Lamentable, mere shards of their original splendor. They cannot imagine being loved as the shards they now are, and wonder if perhaps that is their own fault. People walk by the shards without a second glance, or throw them away as worthless garbage.

But some, a very lucky few, find their way to the sea. Over many years (it averages 20-30 years) they are churned and tumbled with the waves and sand of the ocean. They lose their inherent shine, their smooth surface and take on a frosted finish and appear to glow from deep within.

When the time is right, the sea returns the glass to the beach. Now, the same passerby who would not spare a glance or tossed them aside notice them. They are rare, coveted. They are Sea Glass. Despite humble beginnings, and tragic circumstances they have been remade into something even more beautiful than before.

But they could not have become as they are now were it not for the original hardships, were they not broken they could not have been swept away with the tide. Had they not been reduced to shards, they could not have become jewels.

We are not broken, we are not lost, we are not wrong. We are sea glass. We are who we are. Not everyone can appreciate the same beauty, some eyes are blinded by the inner glow. We were not created to thrive in a controlled environment. We are beautiful as we are, and do not require refinishing.

Remember your inner peace, recognize your unique beauty, remember your own strength. You were tumbled by waves, the fury of the ocean herself could not reduce you. As you were broken, now you are whole. You are no longer a shard- you are a gem of the sea. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Too often, we allow our worth to be measured by the rules of others. Their opinions, their standards. To the average person, a broken bottle is garbage. Because it no longer serves their purpose, it is without value. It cannot sit on a shelf and be beautiful, it can no longer hold beverages. Its original value is gone. However, there are rare people. They comb the beach in the spring and during low tides looking for sea glass. They appreciate the unique beauty that can only come from being broken, churned, and re-emerging. 

Many people prefer to use the metaphor of turning into a butterfly. But a caterpillar begins life with the expectation that they will go through metamorphosis and gain their beautiful wings. They do not struggle, they simply fulfill what is expected of them. A glass bottle, on the other hand, is never expected to be anything more than what it is expected to be; a vessel. When its time as a vessel is spent the bottle is discarded. Becoming Sea Glass exceeds that expectation, and takes an entirely unexpected path to do so. It is beauty beyond original purpose, and as such is something to be admired.

~Night Rose

To My Younger Siblings' New "Dad"

Part of me has dreaded your arrival, imagined the pain it would cause
Hearing them call for Daddy and for me to turn to find you.
Knowing that you will sit in attendance of their achievements
With our mother it will be you who helps guide them to adulthood.
It will be you who stands in when they go astray or falter
Likely, it will be you who takes pictures
As they walk down the aisle to that hard-earned diploma

It will be you who reminds upstart boys of their manners
And the type of  young women my sisters were raised to be.
It will be you who helps with my younger brother
As he and my mother travel his hard road
Likely, it will be you who walks them down the aisle
And has the honor of that sacred paternal dance.

It will be you, who they refer to as Dad.

For me it will be a reminder of what HE would have done.
What he would have said, what he would have felt.
A reminder of the glowing pride he had from their first days.
A reminder of all the things he looked forward to
And the Daddy they never knew.
I can't help it, he was the one there for me.

I don't say this to cause you pain
Nor to make you feel guilty for the place you now hold.
I love my siblings, with all my heart.
And they deserve SOMEONE, I think it could be you
It's what he would have wanted too.

But please, this one thing I ask;
Remember the honor of the name.
It's a heavy weight, and should not lightly be taken.
For all its perks, it is a heady responsibility

To me, he was the best there ever was and cannot be replaced.
For them, I hope you can make the absence less.
There will be times it is difficult
And you might wonder what you were thinking
They ARE teenagers, and will have their moments.
I pray they are more tame than were mine.

I have dreaded your arrival, I doubt it will ever not hurt.
But, even if their Dad is not our Daddy
I am glad they will have your support, your guidance
I am glad they will have you.
If I seem moody, remember my perspective, take no offense.
I wasn't ready to lose MY Daddy
But, for them, "Dad" has become synonymous
With you.

~Night Rose

This post is happening for a reason.

Stand ye warned. This is a rant. It is not going to be eloquent, it is not going to be structured, it is not going to be overtly rational. It is pure, unrestrained, fuck your excuses.

"Everything happens for a reason" <---- THE biggest cop-out of the species. Be more sensitive, say that you honestly don't know what to say or that you don't have words. It. is. NOT. comforting. If someone tried to "justify" most of these situations being caused by a person, the person would be called a psychopath and locked away or killed, and the one making the excuses would be institutionalized.

NO ONE should have the last remaining tatters of their pride stripped from them, be hand-bathed and spoon fed as an infant for three days with their face melted and every labored breath causing them agony because of scorched windpipes before passing. NO ONE should be born only to be crippled in their first few weeks of life by a FEVER and have all the "could have been"s stripped away without ever seeing them- to build SOME semblance of progress and then be told that it was for nothing- the condition has worsened and there is NOTHING that can be done. NO ONE should lose all sense of who they are or what's gone on around them and either be tortured with re-learning that their child died before them or torture their families with asking how they are. NO ONE should die alone as a Jane Doe, their family torn in two locations with critical injuries unable to locate their family. NO ONE should fear not being able to seek justice for their family, that a monster might walk free while their family lives with the impact of their choices for the rest of their lives. NO ONE should have to watch their beloved waste away and die, be hospitalized themselves and come home to find that some unswallowed load robbed them of their precious memories because they heard that the pair were en-route to the hospital over a police scanner. NO ONE should have to bury their child, or worse yet be left with nothing but an empty casket.

It does NOT all happen for a reason- there IS no reasoning for it! It's sadistic, it's torture. And if there IS something grand and omnipotent behind it they are no god- they are simply playing with a magnifying glass and delighting in the suffering they cause. It is meaningless chaos.

If such a being does exist and is reading this- FUCK YOU.

~Night Rose

I'm the only one allowed to kick that much ass Gamora.

     The other half and I went to see Guardians of the Galaxy last night...

     IT WAS ABSOLUTELY MIND-BLOWING. Great balance of humor, action, skirted romance, mystery, misery and of course, Groot. The jokes made me literally laugh out loud, the pain made me cringe. The battles had me at the edge of my seat and the drama tore the beating heart out of my chest and ate it.

     Pretty much Guardians of the Galaxy was everything it needed to be to truly do the universe justice. Several other Hero movies have attempted, a few have done above average. Guardians of the Galaxy nailed it, plated it in gold and put it on its ample trophy shelf. Hands-down the best movie I've seen in a long time.

     SO MANY SPOILERS I COULD SHARE. But I'm trying to do the right thing and not ruin it. Go, watch it for yourself. Take in the epic fullness that movie theaters have been cheating us out of for so damn long. If you can, find it in 3D. But watch it. You will not be sorry.

We can all be heroes like Kevin Bacon.
~Night Rose

Throw me a fricken bone here Scott!

     So one of my first realizations going into this I Am That Girl project was that I needed to stop procrastinating.

     ...Obviously I have a lot of work to do. :-D


     But, in all seriousness it is one of my major hangups. I have a million-plus things I could be doing at any given point. The chance that I'm going to settle on the one I really SHOULD be doing? Not very high. I get restless extremely easily, and tend to flit from medium to medium (typically mid-project leaving a LOT of un-finished Rose-isms... oooh pie!)

     I really am terrible. I'm not going to say I per-say admit it... more like I own it. But, the first step is realizing that there's a situation to begin with right?

     You see what I did there yet? Feel free to discover your own. I'm not here to tell you who to be, or HOW to be. That's your job. I'm just here to share my own adventure.



Hurry up and grab yours by the ponytail.

~Night Rose

Civic Responsibility Follow-up

      For anyone new to The Garden, a little while back I got a bit frustrated with a political situation that was at the time developing in our country. There had been an enormous number of "illegal immigrant" children dumped at our south western border. In an effort to alleviate the strain on that area, they were being relocated (temporarily, as I found out today) to other locations around the country. Unfortunately, some of our civilians (I use the "civil" part very loosely) thought in some redneck manner it was reasonable to repel this "invasion"- with guns. As a mother of two myself, the idea of those children having no place to go tears at me, especially when we have so many willing to pay exorbitant fees to adopt from overseas. Therefore, the idea that they were greeted by an armed you're not welcome here party  REALLY pissed me off. So, I did what I could and wrote a letter. I then blogged my irritation and several drafts of the letter showing my efforts to condense it to the White House contact form character criteria while retaining its tone and message.The entry date is 7/16 and can be found here.

     Today, I received the following response:

    
     I'm not going to lie, when I first saw that I had a response in my inbox (ESPECIALLY the day before my 25th birthday) I was stoked. I wrote that letter two months ago, I can't believe they actually thought enough to write back!
    
     And then I read their letter, which enlightened me that obviously they didn't have the courtesy to more than skim mine.

     Dude are you serious?! I actually sat down and composed, not simply wrote, composed a letter. Then I butchered it to shit and STILL managed to keep the purpose- I made a meme for the sake of cheese! And what I get is a generic form-styled response. It lent a very broad-spectrum response, a finger point, and a closure. Very disappointed Uncle Sam.

As another stone silenced in the pond-
Night Rose

I swear I'm not a "Social Warrior"

     Now that you are crying bullshit and calling me Pinocchio allow me to clarify that title: I am not what the wonderful internetz have deemed a "Social Justice Warrior". A "Social Justice Warrior" is, as defined by the Urban Dictionary:

Social Justice Warrior:

A pejorative term for an individual who repeatedly and vehemently engages in arguments on social justice on the Internet, often in a shallow or not well-thought-out way, for the purpose of raising their own personal reputation. A social justice warrior, or SJW, does not necessarily strongly believe all that they say, or even care about the groups they are fighting on behalf of. They typically repeat points from whoever is the most popular blogger or commenter of the moment, hoping that they will "get SJ points" and become popular in return. They are very sure to adopt stances that are "correct" in their social circle.

The SJW's favorite activity of all is to dogpile. Their favorite websites to frequent are Livejournal and Tumblr. They do not have relevant favorite real-world places, because SJWs are primarily civil rights activists only online. 

   
     I'll be the first to admit- I do 99.9% of my activism online. I could list off a million excuses reasons for this but the primary ones are that I am selfish and lazy. However, if I bother to post about something you had better believe it's important to me. And unlike the SJW's, I don't give the pass of gas if people agree with me- on the contrary I prefer that they think for themselves. I despise sheep and think herd mentality to be the ultimate offense to human intelligence there is. Question your world, create your own opinions. Even if they aren't entirely perfect at least you're conscious enough to HAVE an opinion. Unfortunately, the majority of our peers are more content to take the road well-trodden and not risk the status quo. 

     Given the trend my recent posts have been on, and given the one pounding in my head for release seems determined to continue, I felt this was an important point to make. The topics I flare up about are extremely close to home- the state of our school systems for example. My aspirations in high school were cut short when my school was forced to cut courses and teachers- I couldn't use my art classes to earn scholarships because there WERE no art classes. Now, nearly a decade later my own children were put on waiting lists to get into school. My daughter just got the call today that she will start Kindergarten on Tuesday- nearly a month into the school year. My son still awaits placement for Pre-K, and it's likely they won't be able to find a place for him in the same school my daughter will be attending. 

     I could just bottle it up. I could sit by silently and let the world run its course. But it's just not me. While I am not a "Social Justice Warrior", I am an advocate. I advocate progress, I advocate awareness, I advocate social development. I support expression, and strongly encourage involvement in one's natural world. I cannot be satisfied with the status quo. Rather than just allowing issues to slip by I will be as the rock, forcing the stream to change its course or at the very least interrupting it. Complacency is killing our country and our culture and I am done participating in it.

Be less afraid of making a ripple with action than drowning because you chose to sit still.

~Night Rose

Quest for Passion

     One of the first things Alexis tells you to do in I Am That Girl to begin discovering your passion is to think about what REALLY pisses you off. It didn't take much thought at the moment as my children are waiting to find out what school (if any) they will be attending this year or if they will be put on a waiting list. Education has been a thorn in my side as long as I can remember- I came from a small-town school with cow pastures on all four sides. When I was in junior high, the state reduced funding and our proposed budget failed. As a result, our Art, Music, and Sports programs were cut along with Health and Home Economics. I was an art-centered student. I was devastated. All my strengths were cut in one go and with them any chance I had of getting a scholarship. Now as an adult my extremely bright, eager to learn children are playing hopscotch of being placed in one of two schools. One is bilingual and is at best mediocre, the other is in the heart of the ghetto and has the test scores to prove it. I do not want to see my children's spark snuffed so early but I don't have the time (or energy/resources) to home school my children.

     My children and Education are two of my passions. Writing is a third. Obviously I have more searching to do- but considering I had to hop out of my wonderfully warm bathtub to my frigid living room to get this out of my head and documented, I'd say we're off to a pretty good start.

Start a riot of your own.
~Night Rose

Stirring the Rose's brain kettle...

     I am in the beginnings of reading a book- I am not ashamed to say that it is meant to be a self-help/motivational book. It is about self identification and the finding of one's passion in life. For any who are curious, the book is I Am That Girl by Alexis Jones. And it has me questioning myself.

     Hang on, wait a second- Rose is QUESTIONING herself? The blunt, brassy, heart-on-her-sleeve, blogging-her-balls-to-the-world Rose is soul searching?! Over a chick-book?! Stop the press- we have an imposter.

     That's pretty much how I feel about it too- shocking for something I picked up off the clearance rack at work for $2 because I liked a bracelet line and had forgotten my current novel at home. But nevertheless it is the case. What am I passionate about? What truly stirs me to action? What are my boundaries? My values? Who is that girl in the mirror, and why does she always want something more?

     As of a little over a week from now, I will have walked through the life of that girl for twenty five years. Her roots are my own. I've known her friends, experienced her milestones, examined her decisions. I've mourned her pains and celebrated her blessings. Once or twice a wise blacksmith has tried to ask her the same questions this book is demanding now. But up till now, I've never really fought for any of the answers. I've dragged through the path I felt would be most acceptable- even when I hated every moment. I've had five years since high school to chase my dreams without really having any. It's very difficult to be satisfied when you don't know what you want in the first place.

     Well, twenty five years is enough. If I'm ever going to go beyond the scraping by I'm going to have to decide how I would best do that instead of seeking the first appealing job that grabs my bait. I am going to continue reading I Am That Girl, and invite anyone reading this to do the same and begin their journey with me. Claire's has long since clearanced them out, but they can be found on Amazon here. I will post as inspired while reading, and I hope at least some will take this journey with me. I'm done simply "doing", it's time to "be".


Fruitful journeys mes amis~
Night Rose

Exuses as Motivators

     Great motivational bracelet isn't it? "It is what it is", or "Relax, shit happens and it's out of your control" It seems like a really great message for a stressful day. One of my managers had a habit of saying it when we ran out of something, or when things went crazy or pretty much any difficult situation. She always shrugged her shoulders and had a very defeated (albeit defiant) expression on her face. You could tell she hated the situation but she really didn't see anything she could do about it so she let it go.

     She allowed herself be a victim."It is what it is" shows a defeatist frame of mind and insinuates that life has put you in a situation and you have no control or choices and allows you to deny responsibility for the outcome. Unless you are in a coma or otherwise debilitated and someone else holds the controls for your life, that is NEVER the case. As a manager, she could call people in. She could borrow or purchase supplies to get us through or post a notice about whatever we were out of. She could offer discounts. She HAD options. Allowing the situation to spiral out of control was a conscious decision. Life did not make a hopeless situation, she chose to relinquish control.

     I want a t-shirt that says "It is what you make it"- it's much more proactive. "It is what it is" is the mind frame of a victim. It's more of an excuse than a motivator. Seize fate by the horns. Take responsibility and make life what you want it to be.

     After all, it is what you MAKE it.

Night Rose's First Fullfillment of her Patriotic Responsibility as a Citizen of the United States.

 Original:
Forgive me if I ramble, this is my first contact with the White House since the term of Bill Clinton when I was in Elementary school, and I'm not overly familiar with etiquette. I was just reading articles about our own citizens taking up arms against the "minor immigrants" being housed in their community. Worse yet, I saw friends on my own feed liking this action. As an American, I took Government when I was in school, and unfortunately I have found that our citizens and many of our representatives have lost sight of what America means.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I'm afraid that the term "minor immigrants" must have confused our citizens- for surely American citizens would never turn their back on a needy child. They must think these are some petty immigrants; criminals who have no place in their own society. America would never be so callous as to look in the faces of children and say that they do not belong here, and are the problem of "someone else". Unfortunately, The Statue of Liberty only watches our eastern coast while on our western border she seems blind to her charge. As an American daughter, mother, sister, citizen; I cannot believe that our people are so blinded. The United States of America was once the land of promise- an example of enlightenment and hope for the world. Now we bicker and squabble about petty religious differences, or party agendas. We were a role model to developing countries, and now we look like an elder sibling going through their rebellion phase. The United States MUST remember their heritage. We accepted a responsibility and paraded it before the eyes of all the unfortunates of the world- she carries her torch high and proudly still. But it seems her tablet has become a guest list- and if you are not on the list then you are no longer welcome. Enough with the squabbling. Free Lady Liberty. Allow her to pass from sea to sea. If America did not want such a charge then she should not have been welcomed. Yes, there will be difficulties. There is no easy solution to this issue. But dumping helpless children on someone else's door stoop so we no longer have to figure out this difficult puzzle is irresponsible. We do not deport immigrants who marry our citizens simply for their green card and then leave them, we should not do so now to innocents who have no where else to go. My thoughts will be heavy for the remainder of this standoff, I wish I could say my conscience was clear. For the decisions that are about to be made are on the head of all America's Citizens. Whether they could truly impact them or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After editing and being forced to cut 540 characters to meet 2500 character criteria:


Good evening, I was reading about our own citizens taking up arms against "minor immigrants" being sent to their state. I saw friends on my own feed liking this action. As an American, I took Government when I was in school and sadly have found that our people and many of our leaders have lost sight of what America means.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp! cries she with silent lips. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
I'm afraid that the term "minor immigrants" must have confused our citizens for surely American citizens would never turn their backs on a child. They must think these are some petty illegals; vermin who have no place in their own society. America would never be so callous as to look in the faces of children and say that they do not belong here, and are the problem of "someone else". The Lady Liberty watches our east coast while on our western border she seems blind to her charge. As an American daughter, mother, sister, citizen; I cannot believe that our people are so blinded. The United States was once the land of promise- an example of enlightenment and hope for the world. Now we bicker and squabble about petty religious differences, or party agendas. We were a role model to developing countries, now we look like an elder sibling going through their rebellious phase. The United States MUST remember her heritage. We touted a responsibility before the eyes of all the world- she carries her torch high and proudly still. But it seems her tablet has become a guest list- and if you are not on the list then you are no longer welcome. Enough with the squabbling. Free Lady Liberty. Allow her to pass from sea to sea. If America did not want such a charge then she should not have been welcomed. Yes, there will be difficulties. There is no easy solution to this. But dumping helpless children on someone else's door stoop so we no longer have to figure out this puzzle is irresponsible. We do not deport immigrants who marry our citizens simply for their green card and then leave them. We should not do so now to innocents who have no where else to go. My thoughts will be heavy for the remainder of this debate, I wish I could say my conscience was clear. For the decisions that are about to be made are on the head of all America's Citizens; whether they can impact them or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Remember your duty my fellow citizens. It is a heady one that was granted to us by our forefathers. And as they shouldered it in our turn so should we. Otherwise the American People are diminished, and merely shadows of former grandeur. A country of immigrants united by liberty, brightly should our flame burn!

The pressure before the storm

     Here they were, it was the time. All the excitement and preparation of the past months came to this moment. The gravity of the evening weighed heavily on their shoulders. This could be the big break- they could at last receive recognition for all of their hard work. At least they might gain some new followers; people who would help encourage them to keep going and creating in the future. Just so long as they escaped embarrassment. Crowds could be harsh, and this was in every way a true battle. Sure, everyone was friendly back stage but when it came down to it they were all there for the same purpose- to win. The added exposure was great but they all wanted that prize.

      The band mates exchanged what they hoped were encouraging smiles as they readied to swap sets. All their gear was hand-me-down precious. A guitar from a favorite uncle, a drum kit that Dad had beaten the heart into in his early twenties when he was sure he was going to make it huge. And the mic, a school cast-away when outdated equipment had been replaced. The sentimental value hadn't mattered to the suits- how many speeches had their teachers inspired them with through that mic? Hell, the lead sung her first solo with it. Who cared if the gear wasn't top of the line, in every piece were hopes, dreams, and passion. They made the group feel at home wherever they were.

     "You're on in two minutes, have your stuff ready!" blurted out the head of a small middle-aged man with thinning hair and an overly large headset as it appeared around the corner and then returned to wherever it had been before. They all looked at each other one more time- they were clearly anxious never having played a venue so large before. But mixed into that anxiety was an exhilaration. How many groups never made it out of the garage? This was a huge step. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room changed. They were ready. Alone they were nervous and afraid of messing up; standing on the stage in front of everyone in the spotlight. But now they were one. No one of them was facing those sweaty lights of the stage alone, or the masses beyond them. Separately they flinched under the weight of it all; but together they carried a spark. And that spark was about to light the house on fire.

Go with love and find peace dearest lady.

                How to sum up the words and feelings that have lodged themselves tightly in my throat- you were love embodied Kathy. You scooped up so many people and helped us find our feet and worth, even if we could drive you crazy on occasion. For me, you were a second mother. For  over a decade through the silly squabbles Alex and I have had that really don't seem very important anymore and my foolishly stubborn teenage years you were there. You showed me the world and you weren't afraid to tell me when I was making bad decisions. Later, you were one of the first to grant my husband a chance when he turned himself around. Then when my children arrived, you immediately welcomed them into your adoptive family. It really put a smile on my face when my daughter called you Mom. I owe you so much, and I'm never going to be able to make my missteps right. In the hospital last night it was unreal when the news came. How can so bright a star be gone? Someone so vibrant and unique? Who am I going to call when I see an awesome deal on Starwars memorabilia or My Little Pony/Hello Kitty stuff? How did the world not end when you left? When I got the call I hoped and prayed it would be a waste of gas- that Sam and Gene would give me their exasperated looks and you would call me silly over getting so worried over a scrape. But you weren't there. I tried to fill in as I could, I swear I did Mom. I tried my best to keep Alex grounded, and give a few smiles or laughs where I could. I'm sure you would have done much better.

                But that was then, and this is now. And now the focus has to be on healing. So much damage occurred last night, I never got to visit Sam. And Gene still needs surgery for his arm. I love you Kathy, please keep my father company till my time comes. I know he loved your discussions. I promise you I will keep trying.

Holiday Spirit

     First off- a merry holiday I wish to you and yours. No matter what your personal holiday this season is. I choose to label mine with the name "christmas" (yes, the lowercase C is important- but I'll explain that later on) but I have no qualms with the fact that others gather their families to celebrate with other wonderful traditions this time of year.

     Well, I suppose I should explain my definition of "christmas" before I lose the one person reading this for thinking that I'm disrespecting their religious holiday. Quite the opposite- Merry Christmas to you too dear. My "christmas" is defined simply as this- I am NOT Christian- the Savior has never played a role in my home or holidays. For me, "christmas" is a time when I gather with those I care about to celebrate our bonds of love and friendship. Indeed- even my "christmas" tree is centered around that theme- each of my ornaments is a gift from a loved one, and as I go through my ornaments every year they remind me of all the wonderful people in my family's world- and beautify my home with their seemingly eccentric theme. I mean no disrespect to the Christian holiday- it's simply not something I was raised with. After all, most of the older holidays are taken from other ancient holidays- I simply see mine as another evolution for the concept. Raising my own children, I have found that the importance of family has diminished with the recent generations and I find our "christmas" to be a positive reinforcement of this "old" value.

     But where does this whole thought train come from? Why Facebook of course! Where else? I was sipping my delicious eggnog while listening to my toddlers exert their energy throughout my home, and of course was scrolling Facebook as I am want to do in my quiet time. I happened across a post that one of my friends had commented on- it was a post something like one of these:

  

 because she only commented on it on one of HER friend's wall, I could not find the exact post again. But the message was the same- "I celebrate Christmas as the sole holiday of the season- if you don't like it I don't care" which, to my friend who was raised celebrating Hanukkah was hurtful. Here was someone, on her own friend list, essentially saying that HER feelings didn't matter because she doesn't celebrate Christmas. Now of course, I'd seen them all over my feed and just rolled my eyes continuing to scroll- to me it was just another manifestation of the arrogance that seems to have absorbed the culture around me. But it genuinely stung my friend. After reading her response, and making sure she knew that I shared her disdain with the post I sat back and thought about the message that was REALLY being sent, and the spirit that the season is meant to bring. 

     The Christian Christmas has traditionally been hailed as a time of "Peace on Earth" and "Goodwill toward Man"-beautiful concepts. It's supposed to be a time where the anger, hate, and prejudice of the world is set aside- where a wandering soul in the night may see a lit candle in the window and know home if only for a night. It is when the birth of the Savior is remembered, as well as the circumstances of that birth. A woman in labor in a strange land where no one will help her gives birth in a stable to a child who would one day wash away the sins of the world, and in reverence to this for the season charitable donations are made, acts of kindness abound, and hope is given to those less fortunate.

     It sounds wonderful- until one finds the new fine print (The New American Arrogant Bible seems to be the first source for this new print- if you happen to adhere to one of the more mature denominations I recommend staying with it- you may just save the image of the Church all together.) where it is spelled out in microscopic letters written in the blood of a virgin that you are worthy of these boons ONLY if you are Christian. Otherwise, you're a heathen and not worthy of attention from the devout. 

     This year has been the worst I've seen- it took several personal "christmas miracles" to revive my holiday spirit- and normally I'm one of the most enthusiastic. But having each of the holidays pitted against each other rather than the harmony that they used to reside in- it really takes away from the spirit of the season. One cannot wish for peace on earth only to turn and spit in their neighbor's face. 

     My point is this; celebrate your holiday. By all means, bask and rejoice in the spirit of the season. Look at those around you, and find warmth in their energy as well, even if its source may not entirely match your own. I promise, it all comes from the same place and in this one time of year, when we can put our differences aside, there is true hope that we may one day know such wonders year-round. Again, to all of you a Happy Holiday, Merry Christmas, Chag Urim Sameach, Furah Kwanza! (Habari Gani?) and Blessed Be. 

As always friends, merry meet and merry part. 

 ~Night Rose

Remember- if you're going to be a dick for the holiday at least save it for the bedroom where it can be appreciated by someone else. ;-)

 

Five Dollars An Hour

     Hey you. Yes you, the person sitting reading this silly blog. There's something that always bugs me. That is the general attitude that the average person treats the wait staff at restaurants. The discourtesy, disrespect, and overall disregard with which they are met is DISGRACEFUL. Let me take you by the hand and we'll check out exactly what that poor soul goes through.

     When you first enter the store, the nearest server available greets you and seats you in the next section in turn on the chart. Hopefully no one else has self-sat in that time thereby messing up rotation and double loading a server. Then, a server (possibly the same one) comes to introduce themselves and take your drink and appetizer order which they then enter your appetizer into a computer for the cooks. Following this, they go and get your drinks, and return for your food order. Once you have given it to them, they scamper back to a computer and input your food and beverage order. At this point they hope to be able to return with your appetizer order. They drop it off and run off to work on their side work, and check back a few minutes later to see how you are enjoying your appetizer. Then they go back to doing their side work while waiting for your food. Once you're done with your appetizer they take the dishes, either having already delivered or delivering your main order soon after. Back to the side work once again they go, returning shortly after to make sure you're enjoying your order. Once you're nearly finished it's check back time, they bring the check in their pocket and ask if you're planning on dessert. If you are, they take your order. If not, they leave the check on the table while they take any dishes you are finished with. If they do the latter, they check back a few minutes later to take care of it for you. If you order dessert,  they  take your order, your empty dishes, and then go and punch it in to the computer and then prepare it for you. Then it's back out to your table to serve it to you, and drop off the updated check. When the check is delivered, they have to point out your survey opportunity- a chance to tell their managers and corporate office what you thought of your visit. Once you leave, they return to your table and clear it, then reset the displays and wipe the table and seats with sanitizer and zoom broom the floor around your table. Then it's back to side work.


   But what IS this side work I speak of? Well, for each server there is of course the dishes- because of course there is no specific dish-person. Each server contributes to the running of the dishes. Then there's your daily assigned chore- salad bar, stocking, fountain, ect. And then there's a server's housekeeping (a completely separate chore) such as; cleaning mirrors, windows, dusting, bleaching coffee cups, cleaning sugar caddies and menus and other such tasks. They must also keep the soda machine stocked with ice, and roll silverware for the shift.

     I'm sure you think this all sounds simple- now take in to account that ALL of this must be done with EVERY table. That's a minimum of three visits to the table (three while laden with goods) two instances of prep work, and lots of running around. A typical table's visit probably lasts between 45 minutes to an hour and a half. If there are any issues, they must then find a Manager (they're masters of disappearing when you need them) and they know full well that pretty much every issue is going to be considered their fault. Whether it be that the kitchen took forever with a ticket, or there was a wait to see a server because they were busy with their other tables.

     Oh, now we come to the fun part. Did you know that servers don't even make minimum wage? True, a server stands to make quite a bit more than medium if their tables all tip at least properly (of course the super generous tippers DO exist and can make a server's day) however, on a slow day or when one has a table that is particularly disagreeable and then skimps with the tip it can be hard to make end's meet.

     Ahhh, the point of this little expressive rant of mine; the unwritten rules of tipping.  Generally a server expects 10% on an average visit. 15% if the service and/or visit was exceptional. This is NOT a difficult number to figure out. Say a single person went out for a meal and coffee and their total was 6.83- at 10% the tip would be 68 cents. At 15% the tip would be $1.24.  That's a LOT of work. Take it into account the next time you're in a restaurant. If you can't afford to tip- don't go out to eat.