So good to hear your voice again! I want more of it. Going to a bibe class is great, if nothing else I would love to hear the opinions of others. Many times in my life I have reached for a bible to read, to look up quotes, to refresh my memory of the commandments. I am Catholic and we are notoriously not known for knowing the Bible. Maybe you can impart some of your new found wisdom on me?
Kindergarden. I have two memories. One, I shoved a purple crayon up my nose. Not the small sleek kind of crayon, but the large fat ones intrusted to small chubby hands. I had to go to the nurse, and then the doctor to retrieve the purple crayon. I have no idea why I did it. I just did.
And the other memory: One of my classmates had died (lukemia) his name was Jason. We were all making cards to give to the family and I did not know how to spell Jason. I asked my teacher and she responded with " L-O-V-E" I thought she did not hear me so I asked again, "How do you spell JASON?" Again she said, "L-O-V-E." She was crying and I came away frustated and for the first time in my life thinking that grownups were nuts.
I hid my card so it would not be included in with the others. Sorry Jason.
Before checking this blog I recieved an email from my sister in law. It seems my niece is being confirmed in November. I am her GodMother. I should be there. But I can't. So my sister in law wants me to send her a letter that she can read on the retreat she is going to.
What on earth could I tell her?
Dear Ali,
Well, I guess now you can get married in the church if you want to. Do you really buy all this stuff? I know I didn't. After my confirmation my family had a party for me and I lost my virginity to my boyfriend...who by the way I met in CCD.
So, I guess that's all.
Maybe you should pray for me!
Love,
your GodMother.
PS Read the Song of Solomon, it's the best thing in the Bible.
Maybe something religious is in the air of late, just today Annie asked me what the ten commandments are, and to my surprise I was able to tell her. But then she wanted to know if "across the street" counts as "your neighbor". So many grey areas with that book written in black and white.
It remains a good read, but until they make the value of a woman more than that of an ox, I have a hard time swallowing it.
Maybe you can change my mind.
Welcome back friend.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
a funny thing happened on the way to the confessional...
funny. you should mention sin. Maybe just funny to reign this back around to a religious theme, since, I confess, on Friday I went to a Bible study group. Yep, I did. I think I was the only one who was confined to the assigned chapter, because I knew no other verses or scriptures. sure, I went to sunday school, but what I most recall were the arts and craft and how my projects never quite obtained that "reality" that I had envisioned for them. They ALWAYS looked like crafts, not like life. I wanted Hopper, I got Barney.
This exact problem plagues me today--yes, everything that would plague me for the rest of my life plagued me in kindergarten--there's my best seller. I was a neurotic mess at 6, I just did not know how to capitalize on said neurosis (a la Sedaris)
What did I learn in this Bible class you ask? I learned a lot. I learned that a) I don't know the Bible, and b) said Tome is full of interesting and contradictory information, and c) that if I only had the faith of a mustard seed I could move mountains, or tell a tree to live in the ocean, depending on which apostle you're reading.
I understand that right now. I understand that all the knowledge I think I may have obtained to date has done SQUAT for moi. That the faith of a mustard seed is sort of like a nuclear fission type thing, only much bigger and less explicable, although if Einstein were here I am sure he would still be trying to mathematically quantify it.
Am I going back? Probably. If I can just get past that Hopper/Barney dichotomy, I am sure I will be a much happier person.
PS: Sorry that dude stole your life. But face it, it probably takes a lot less chutzpah to live HIS, and he just wasn't up to the task of what you have to deal with. Would you have trusted him to have taken care of the things you have taken care of? I don't think so my friend...You have been a surgeon in the brain surgery of life. Not everyone has the steady hands for that.
N.
This exact problem plagues me today--yes, everything that would plague me for the rest of my life plagued me in kindergarten--there's my best seller. I was a neurotic mess at 6, I just did not know how to capitalize on said neurosis (a la Sedaris)
What did I learn in this Bible class you ask? I learned a lot. I learned that a) I don't know the Bible, and b) said Tome is full of interesting and contradictory information, and c) that if I only had the faith of a mustard seed I could move mountains, or tell a tree to live in the ocean, depending on which apostle you're reading.
I understand that right now. I understand that all the knowledge I think I may have obtained to date has done SQUAT for moi. That the faith of a mustard seed is sort of like a nuclear fission type thing, only much bigger and less explicable, although if Einstein were here I am sure he would still be trying to mathematically quantify it.
Am I going back? Probably. If I can just get past that Hopper/Barney dichotomy, I am sure I will be a much happier person.
PS: Sorry that dude stole your life. But face it, it probably takes a lot less chutzpah to live HIS, and he just wasn't up to the task of what you have to deal with. Would you have trusted him to have taken care of the things you have taken care of? I don't think so my friend...You have been a surgeon in the brain surgery of life. Not everyone has the steady hands for that.
N.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Deadly Sins
Dear Friend,
Forgive me for I have sinned. Not just any sin, but one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It is the time of year where my heart aches for crisp breezes, my eyes search for colors in the trees, and my nose sniffs for that certain smell that only fall can bring. But, we are in Texas my senses are deprived. My thoughts drift toward the ongoing fantasy of moving far far away.
Today my first client came in and brought sin in with him in the shape of New York Magazine. I knew he was from the northeast before he ever got to my chair. He had that look about him, I can't really describe it but I know it when I see it. Kind of like Gay radar (gadar) only for New Yorkers.
As I ran my hands through his hair (no the sin is not Lust), I pulled out the details of his life. Yes he has a "place" in The City, but he mainly lives in Maine. He decided this year he did not want to "winter" in Maine so he bought a place here. He is semi-retired and travels to DC twice a month. I did not want to know what he did for a living because I was afrtaid he would say that he is a wtirer. This man already seemed to be living the life I wanted if he had the career I have imagined myself to have I could not have been trusted with the sharp tool in my hand.
I have been feeling Envy. If you feel a certain thing and realize it I am not so sure it counts as a sin. But I did more than feel envy. I indulged it. When my male counterpart who stole my life left my chair, he left behind his New York magazine. I did manage to feel slightly superior though, no self respecting North Eastener actually subscribes to that weekly, and I took pleasure in knowing that in my own mailbox waiting for me was The New Yorker. A far more worthy publication. None the less I picked up the rag and started reading it.
I saw my clent's name and address on the front, his local address where the subscription now comes and his New York address. Both impressive in their own rights.
This part of the confession is hardest to admit. On my break I drove by his new local residence. It was only a few blocks out of the way and I told myself it was not that big of a deal really. i was just curious. I found the house easily since it is one of the brand new ones in the neighborhood. Modern, stark, not all reflecting the original feel of the area. It had a high price tag I am sure, and I am also sure that my client found it to be a "steal". I sat there parked in my car with his magazine, and his life sitting beside me like a passenger that refuses to leave. When I felt a pang of fear at being caught sitting there I knew I was in the depths of Envy. What would I say if he walked out? "Um I just wanted to see if you really liked your haircut?" Or maybe,"You left your magazine and oh by the way you stole the life I was supposed to have and I would really appreciate it if you gave it back now, thanks. Don't forget to pick up Annie at 3:00". Then I could walk blindly into his perfect life and take over. I would have no problem getting something to drink out of his/my stainless steel fridge of cooking on his/my granit countertops. Before turning completely mad I started the car.
I told my passengers, New York magazine and Envy, that if they refused to leave at least buckle up so I don't get a ticket. They told me they already had buckled up and not to worry they would be riding with me for a while.
Forgive me for I have sinned. Not just any sin, but one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It is the time of year where my heart aches for crisp breezes, my eyes search for colors in the trees, and my nose sniffs for that certain smell that only fall can bring. But, we are in Texas my senses are deprived. My thoughts drift toward the ongoing fantasy of moving far far away.
Today my first client came in and brought sin in with him in the shape of New York Magazine. I knew he was from the northeast before he ever got to my chair. He had that look about him, I can't really describe it but I know it when I see it. Kind of like Gay radar (gadar) only for New Yorkers.
As I ran my hands through his hair (no the sin is not Lust), I pulled out the details of his life. Yes he has a "place" in The City, but he mainly lives in Maine. He decided this year he did not want to "winter" in Maine so he bought a place here. He is semi-retired and travels to DC twice a month. I did not want to know what he did for a living because I was afrtaid he would say that he is a wtirer. This man already seemed to be living the life I wanted if he had the career I have imagined myself to have I could not have been trusted with the sharp tool in my hand.
I have been feeling Envy. If you feel a certain thing and realize it I am not so sure it counts as a sin. But I did more than feel envy. I indulged it. When my male counterpart who stole my life left my chair, he left behind his New York magazine. I did manage to feel slightly superior though, no self respecting North Eastener actually subscribes to that weekly, and I took pleasure in knowing that in my own mailbox waiting for me was The New Yorker. A far more worthy publication. None the less I picked up the rag and started reading it.
I saw my clent's name and address on the front, his local address where the subscription now comes and his New York address. Both impressive in their own rights.
This part of the confession is hardest to admit. On my break I drove by his new local residence. It was only a few blocks out of the way and I told myself it was not that big of a deal really. i was just curious. I found the house easily since it is one of the brand new ones in the neighborhood. Modern, stark, not all reflecting the original feel of the area. It had a high price tag I am sure, and I am also sure that my client found it to be a "steal". I sat there parked in my car with his magazine, and his life sitting beside me like a passenger that refuses to leave. When I felt a pang of fear at being caught sitting there I knew I was in the depths of Envy. What would I say if he walked out? "Um I just wanted to see if you really liked your haircut?" Or maybe,"You left your magazine and oh by the way you stole the life I was supposed to have and I would really appreciate it if you gave it back now, thanks. Don't forget to pick up Annie at 3:00". Then I could walk blindly into his perfect life and take over. I would have no problem getting something to drink out of his/my stainless steel fridge of cooking on his/my granit countertops. Before turning completely mad I started the car.
I told my passengers, New York magazine and Envy, that if they refused to leave at least buckle up so I don't get a ticket. They told me they already had buckled up and not to worry they would be riding with me for a while.
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