Aurora's Adventures

It's rude. You're making someone take their time to read something you couldn't bother to write. You're telling them they were so unimportant you couldn't be bothered to actually take the time to say something yourself. And frankly, you're lying about it while you're at it.

Recently got into a debate at a church leadership meeting about Children's Church - ie when kids attend a separate 'service' from the adults on Sunday, either for part of the service (like prayer time and sermon) or the entire time

I'm super curious what thoughts others have in the following polls!

When I had Sunday school/children's church, I was able to learn the gospel and the bible's stories being taught at my level, in a way that engaged and interested me. Eventually, there came a time that the neurons connected in my brain to allow me to be comfortable in the "adult" service.

Are there churches that do a terrible job teaching their children? Absolutely.

Are there some kids that are more intelligent and capable of sitting through a standard service, who a "children's level" is not enough for? Absolutely.

Was I perhaps incredibly lucky to have been taught well and spiritually fed in children's church? Maybe.

Pray for those men who are in addiction, in poverty, in hospice, who go through bullying and isolation and domestic abuse, who have been raped and are sexually abused, who are self-harming and contemplating suicide. Who are struggling in their homes, marriages, families; with their health, and their safety. Please pray for all the young men who have lost their lives due to PTSD and insufficient support and trauma and accidents. Please pray for the surviving families, and their male members, whose sons, fathers, and brothers were targeted and taken away from them too soon because of crime and violence and injustice.

I can't find the actual poll anywhere so I am trying very hard to take this with a grain of salt but YouGov usually does good work and NewsGuard who commissioned the poll noted on their site that they were so surprised by these results that they asked YouGov to check again and yeah sure enough.

This is really disturbing.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

I love not farming

I respect the hell out of farmers and I'm glad that's someone's dream. because it's sure not mine

I would not be taken in by the tradwife influencer grift about milking a cow in a sundress. I have been around cows. my uncle was a dairy farmer. I love not milking a cow. I love getting milk from a store. I love getting vegetables and fruit and meat and bread from a store.

would I rather it be a local farm's store or a local bakery or butcher shop? yes! maybe when I make more money!

Source: [x]