Closing Down the Year: 2004

So 2004 ends in just over 5 hours from the time I start writing this. It doesn't feel like the end of the year. And unlike last year, where I was literally counting days and then hours until I could see that year turn, I'm neutral this year.

In my personal life, there were no big tragedies, unlike last year. For that, I'm thankful. In the world, however, there were several tragedies-- the largest being only a few short days ago. My silence isn't out of not caring. I literally just can't comprehend it-- it's so overwhelming in scale that I can't process it. My shortcoming is a strong one on this. It's just... too huge.

So, without further adieu... looking back at 2004...

January 2004: I started off this year by drinking myself silly. I think I needed it. The Jeep, after spending two months in the repair shop, arrived back in mid-January. I became the eldest cousin to an adorable baby girl (Amelia), and decided that for the last year of my twenties, I would find some way to live it up a bit... dammit. Oh, and a little thing that had gone on all of 2003 had, well-- a slight glimmer of hope, despite not going too much further since then:

January 11th - 370 days. He [12/31 edit: my father] called me tonight.


February 2004: Pats win the superbowl. :) My sorority chapter celebrates its 20th anniversary (and it took me only a short amount of time to realize many of the current members weren't born yet when it was founded-- eep!). Massachusetts becomes the hotbed of debate on gay marriage, and I have never been more proud to live where I do with the (temporary until 2006) result of that debate:

February 17th - One of the most chilling images I've seen in the last few weeks was a photo in the Boston Globe of a protest in a local town's high school gym. Children between the ages of six and twelve were holding signs condemming homosexuality-- some signs had comments that were-- rather graphic in nature.


March 2004: My attempt to lose weight begins (which ended, of course, in a major ego-bruising). The Pledge of Allegiance becomes a big issue, as the 9th Circuit Court votes it unconstitutional. People claiming it's not religious start emphasizing the words "Under God" every time they say it (riiight, folks). And I do something that I swore at age eleven that I would never, EVER do again. I cut my hair eleven inches shorter. And yes, it's stayed relatively the same length since.

March 29th - My head now bounces. It's an extremely odd feeling. I have this urge to poing around just to feel how it springs against my head. But I think my co-workers would look at me funny.


April 2004: A bonehead move of mine turns out to be the catalyst for two great things in my life. First, I was able to witness my best friend from college get engaged. Second, I managed to make said bonehead move become the easiest way to reintroduce myself to my sorority chapter. :) When in doubt, make sure you miss a cruise-- it's the best way to contact someone. Seriously. :)

April 5th - In the middle of the lit dome entry to Rowes Wharf by the hotel, Joe proposed to Ivanna. A beautiful, simple little proposal-- the words which I missed because I was too busy trying to make sure I got a photo of the event (I did).


May 2004: Erich and I celebrate our third anniversary with an incredibly romantic getaway to Florida. It'll be difficult to top it. :) The month was quiet otherwise, except the pride of being from Massachusetts:

May 17th - Something changed in the USA at midnight-- did you notice?

Probably not, although if you've been watching the domestic news in the last few months, there were opponents to the change who swore that today's landmark would destroy marriage entirely.

Uh-huh.


June 2004: My agony with my weight gets to a hopeless point (in a locked entry). Minarae begins a kick-ass fundraising campaign for Breast Cancer awareness. And my eldest cat scares me half to death for about eighteen hours.

June 26th - Sometime last night, one of the cats managed to get the screen door open-- Gus (somehow) stayed inside... but Fizz and Colley got out.

Erich found Fizz bleating as loud as she could on the balcony directly below us.

Colley hasn't been found.

And I feel sick.


July 2004: I attempt to get myself into the groove to do some personal religious exploration (and failed). A ton of hype in Boston turns out to be nothing as the Democratic National Convention comes to town, and people continue to question the sanity of our elected leaders. And Jeep woes continue.

July 28th - Fuck that. Turned the car around, brought it straight home. I'm not fucking around with engine lights. Broken AC, sure. A bit of weird shifting issues, sure. Once that engine light's on, no... game over.


August 2004: I note a sad anniversary. Tone and Robin are married. Erich turns 30, and I experience two firsts in my life: the strip club, and the casino. They're both very dangerous. :) Now if I could just have naked men in said casino, then I'd be in heaven...

August 9th - Although I have to admit it was both amusing and a bit weird to be sitting across from my boyfriend as he got a lap dance. I just wish I could have seen his expression better-- instead I was getting rather up close and personal views of the girl's crotch.


September 2004: WorldCon. Heh. Geekdom takes over Boston in major style. It was beautiful. And if anyone ever wondered-- you CAN in fact live out of the Pru Mall for 5 days without leaving. It's kinda sad. Meanwhile in the world of online journals-- I get a cold shoulder from a former D-Xer for some unknown reason (other than, I assume, the fact that I don't detest Michael Moore with all of my being like she seems to and make no apologies for being both liberal AND patriotic at the same time). *sigh* I try not to get into the inter-journal drama, but in this case, yeah. It hurt. Both on this person and the one before her that did the same thing. And until now, I haven't said a word. In any case, I don't know what I did to piss them off other than be myself. *shrug* C'est la vie.

September 3rd - I'm sitting at a table directly next to two of my favorite authors-- Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I know Gaiman's signing books in about 15 minutes-- Pratchett signs sometime later this weekend. They happen to be chatting about Boston cabbies at the moment, and how similar they seem to be in driving insanity to ones in far off places that aren't London (exact quote, mind you)

Thankfully I don't have my copy of Good Omens on me because I'd turn into the total n00b.


October 2004: Ten days without sleep. Ten glorious days without sleep. And hell has frozen over. Dammit, I think all of New England brought its ice skates to enjoy the ride.

October 28th - "AT LAST!

Pigs can fly, hell is frozen, the slipper finally fits,
and Impossible Dreams really can come true.
The Red Sox have won the World Series"


November 2004: The World Series win was pummeled into sobbing on November 3rd. You can tell me to get over it. You can tell me that I'm a stupid liberal. But you cannot EVER make me believe that the immoral, hateful, evil person who was re-elected was the best choice for our nation. Ever. Considering his administration's image is starting to crumble and his innaugural hasn't even arrived yet-- yeah, it's going to be a long, ugly four years. Do I smirk as I work my ass off? On a more personal note-- which was slightly tied to the election, I decided in mid-November that I will be moving my journal to more neutral waters come my birthday.

November 4th - For those who think I'm demon scum and should go to hell for my beliefs... I'm bringing the throw pillows to decorate the hell couch and my stash of drinks for the inevitable fantastic party. I'll have a lot of company from wonderful, hardworking, lifeloving people of all creeds, religions, and nationalities.


December 2004: I visit my brother out in Arizona. I go to my mom's for Christmas, and visit my grandma's grave for the first time since her funeral. I do a lot of personal reflection. It's been a busy month, an emotional month. But a month that has made me realize what a wild trip my twenties have been.

And no... I don't have a highlight December entry. Honestly, I haven't needed one. While I've done a lot of filler entries, a lot of the thought has been going on behind the scenes.

My twenties have been a ride. 2005 brings my thirty-something years. And I'm already looking forward to the new adventure...

Goodbye, 2004.

I'm a n00b

Yesterday I pulled a first in my eighteen years of being four-eyed: I broke my glasses. Gah. I fell asleep with them on, and since I sleep with my head turned down into a pillow, the tension on the frame made the plastic string that holds one lens onto the frame snap. (I have glasses that don't have a bottom frame edge).

I'd wondered how those glasses kept together. I didn't see screws holding the lens in place like in Erich's frameless ones.

Now I know. You learn something every day, eh?

Anyway... I then went on a blind search for my old glasses so that I could see something. Couldn't find my most recent pair from last year, which are in a case somewhere around the apartment (Probably in a penpalling bin by now *snort*). I did, however, find my old OLD glasses. As in 1993 huge gold frame suckers. (well, at least they're not my pink ones from junior high and high school). I"m surprised that my prescription hasn't changed that much in ten years. My left eye's off a bit, but my right eye is just fine. What amazes me, though, is how heavy these are compared to my current ones. When they say featherweight, they're not kidding. Compared to those, these weigh a ton!

So they're re-stringing my current prescription frames today. I'll have them around noon. (how thankful am I that they don't have to be shipped somewhere for repair like they do for lens cutting?)

Have I mentioned how I want contacts again? I'd kill for them. I never should have gotten out of the habit of wearing them in college. *sigh*

But yeah, I'm grunge-era stylin' right now. I need to be wearing my flannel shirts, grubby X-Files t-shirt and frayed old jeans right now. Then I'd really feel my freshman year in college all over again. Fashion sense, I tell ya.

(because I have so much anyway).

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

I still haven't found the upload cord for the digital camera, which is why there are no Arizona (or Pennsylvania... now) pictures up. I did something to the camera while we were in Pennsylvania, and now it refuses to focus. I'm hoping it's just a fix-by-pressing-button-I-don't-know-about and that I can do that over the weekend.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

I won't get through 2005. Seriously. So I'm going to be more reasonable and just try to set goals for this weekend. :)


1) Drink in moderation tonight

2) Get laundry done today

3) Beat back the beast that is my penpalling corner (it's scary, I tells ya!)

4) Complete 500 stitches on my current cross-stitch project. (I'd like my center figures to get heads, basically)

5) Clean out my email-- (or at least get rid of stuff from the first 6 months of the year)

6) Hug the cats

7) Figure out the damn digital phone issue

8) Lots of hugs for Erich

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Traditionally, I've done a "Closing Down the Year" entry, but just didn't get around to it this week. I'll probably work on one for later today once I get some chores done.

But if I don't-- I'll sum it up as: 2004 was actually a pretty damn good year. Weight-loss ego bruising aside, it was a good year.

Then again, compared to the "joys" of 2003, anything could be considered a good year for me.

So if I get too frantic as people are oft to do on New Years Eve-- a happy 2005 to everyone. May the new year bring you good memories, closer ties with friends and family, and good health and prosperity.

Back from Pennsylvania

This is the short, short version. I'm kinda worn out and just want to be brain dead with Sims or Roller Coaster Tycoon tonight...


I was entirely too lazy to go down to Mom's basement to get on the internet on her computer-- apparently the wireless network is no longer in existence. So no entries this weekend, obviously.

Anyway--- Erich and I returned home from Pennsylvania today. We returned home about two hours ago to find a foot of fresh snow outside. Both the drive down and back were just fine-- very little traffic, considering the holiday.

Christmas was great. Everyone was there. Traditions continue as they did, or are adjusted to reflect the growing and changing family. Yours truly actually MADE pierogi-- GOOD pierogi, rather than the entirely too tough ones that I managed to scrape out in high school. Said accomplishment is thanks to the recipe of my grandmother (which I'll post once I've practiced a few more times to be able to add advice-- they are a bit tricky to do) and help from my mom.

Gifts-- I'm in heaven. As of tomorrow evening, once I deposit gift money, all of my credit cards will be officially paid off. Seriously. I'll still owe Erich money, but the stuff with finance charges will be going away in 24 hours. You have no idea how good that feels. My family rocks. Insert kow-tow here.

More stuff coming later, but I need to unwind and have a Reiki attunement to do this evening. More during my oh-so-busy day at work tomorrow.

Best,
Melissa

Family Traditions (revisited)

I originally posted this entry in December of 2001. For the new readers who have joined during Holidailies, my grandmother has since passed, and the traditions are now carried out by my mom, my two aunts, and... starting tomorrow... me.

... What I really love is getting back to tradition-- the familiar holiday celebrations with family that can bring back a flood of memories of holidays past with just the slightest scent of familiar food. In my case, cultural tradition always highlights the holidays, not necessarily religious tradition. My family has a mix of Catholicism, Episcopalianism, Agnostics, and me... the one Pagan in the mix. Rather than make a big stickler in the situation, I prefer to celebrate Yule right along with Christmas, since the religious undertones are quite similar.

My grandparents, my mother, and my uncle came over from Germany after World War II. They are Polish, but were in a relocation camp (like so many thousands of people) after the war since they had no place to go. They were sponsored by a church in Easton, PA, which is now considered my mom's hometown. My grandparents still live there, and have lived the ideal American Dream through years of hard work. The metal plating shop where my grandpa got his job back in the early 1950's is now his company, slowly being passed down to my uncle. Unlike immigrants today who seem to refuse to blend into the melting pot of American society, my grandparents immersed themselves. They had to in order to survive. They learned English, and despite some breaks in grammar and thick accents, speak fluently. They joined a local Catholic church, and go to English-speaking services, even though there is enough of a Polish population in the area that there are Polish-language services available.

Yet even with their immersion, some things of cultural tradition remain sacred. Most of these traditions revolve around Christmas time, and the entire family gets together every year to celebrate because we know how special holding these traditions are. I rarely do a specific ritual for Yule and the rebirth of Father God. Celebrating with family for me is a ritual in itself, and in their own Catholic way, my grandparents open and close a ritual circle of love each year for the family. I am a participant, rather than the leader of this celebration.

Our big celebration is on Christmas Eve, known as the Wigilia. Everyone on my mother's side of the family gets together at my grandparents' house. We usually have around 14-16 people for dinner. Traditionally, one chair at the table is left open for the newborn Christ/God, but with how crowded we've been, it's usually a chair set off to the side these days.

Before dinner, we all are given a large square wafer called an oplatek. Oplatki are similar in consistency to the communion wafers at Catholic and other Christian denominational churches, only rather than about half-dollar sized, they are about the size of an index card. We walk around the table, and each person breaks off a piece of every other person's oplatek. We give each person a kiss or hug, wish them a Merry Christmas, and start the jumbled search around a busy, crowded dinner table to find another member of the family who we haven't hugged. It's a symbolic breaking of bread together, and unifies us as a family.

The traditional Polish Christmas meal consists of tons of potato pancakes, borsht, perogi (which are like ravioli, only they're filled with either potato or sauerkraut), galumpki (cabbage rolls filled with tomato and rice), fruit compote, and typical veggie side-dishes, depending on the cook's mood. No meat is present, but we usually have some sort of fish on the table. I've been told by Italian friends that they have a similar tradition.

After we eat, we sing a few carols. We have fold-out caroling books in case people don't know the words to songs. We usually do the entire song. Each person at the table is encouraged to pick one, and they rotate through Polish and the more familiar English-language songs. I always stumble over the ones in Polish, since I really never learned how to speak it, but fortunately I can get by somewhat with my Russian-language background. Erich's theory is that if he goes and has a couple shots of vodka, his singing will probably fit in just fine on the Polish songs. He's honestly not that far off.

Once we've gone through a few carols, we move into the living room to open gifts from each other. While we're opening presents, the less-immediate family and friends often stop by, singing as they go. Someone's usually dressed up as Santa for the little kids. The carolers pack into the hallway near my grandpa's bar for a couple shots of vodka and salutations for the season. Soon after, they leave for Midnight Mass, and the evening starts winding down as the individual families who aren't going to church start heading home for bed.

Christmas day is much more relaxed for us, with brunch and opening presents at home and such. The afternoon's a bit lazier... we hang out, watch the movies on TV, and goof around with the new gifts we've received. Dinner on Christmas Day rotates between houses, but it'll probably be at my mother's house this year. This dinner is much like Thanksgiving with entirely too much food, and either a turkey or ham for dinner.

Through these traditions, I am able as a Pagan to celebrate the warmth of family love through the darkest days of winter, while my Christian family members can celebrate "the reason for the season" without any interfaith wars coming up at the dinner table. We celebrate, we love, and we share. And just for an evening, everything in the family and in the world seems to come into balance.

Bright Blessings,
Mel. (SilverCat)

Holiday traditions 'n stuff

As I finish the paperwork that I do every year at this time, people stop by in the office to ask what I'm doing for the holidays. They know I'm far from my parents, and ask which ones I'm going to this year. (Pennsylvania, FYI). The traditions at each home vary greatly, based on heritage and the work schedule of each parent. But at some point, I see myself blending a mish-mash of the traditions to form my own.

For now, though, I need to get things done at work. I'll share my family traditions tonight after I get home. I have early release from work today, then I'm going to Boston to donate platelets and meet up with Erich, and then will head home.

Until then-- what are some of YOUR family traditions for the holidays (whichever ones you celebrate)? Please share! :)

~ Mel.

An Amazing Article

I found this on whishastar's journal yesterday and wanted to post it last night. Didn't get to. And since I'm in the middle of finishing up my end-of-year work at the office, I don't have the mind for anything witty or even remotely interesting.

So instead, I will allow someone else's amazing ability to speak come through my journal. Please read. It's an amazing piece.

Is Homosexuality a Sin?
by Rev. Dr. Kathlyn James

This sermon was delivered by Rev. James to Lake Washington United Methodist Church in 1997, and is reprinted here with permission.

Rev. Dr. Kathlyn James, First United Methodist Church, Seattle

Last August, we had a special Sunday in church called "Burning Questions," in which I responded, on an impromptu basis, to written questions from the congregation. At that time, I also promised to preach a series of sermons later in the year that would specifically address the top three, or most-asked questions submitted on that day. I have to admit, I could not have predicted the 'top three' questions that would come my way! They were: (1) Is homosexuality a sin? (2) Is there a hell? And (3) How can we forgive? This morning we begin by looking at the first of these: Is homosexuality a sin?

In preparation for today, I gathered together all the materials I could find on this subject. I gathered official denominational studies on homosexuality and the church -- not only the United Methodist study guide, but also documents from the Lutherans, Presbyterians, the United Church of Christ. I also made a stack of books with titles like Living in Sin? by an Episcopal bishop, and Is the Homosexual My Neighbor? by two evangelicals. I eventually had a stack of books and papers a foot deep on my desk. I spent the next several days reading, making notes, and preparing a line of argument for this morning's sermon.

But long about Tuesday of this week, I stopped and asked myself a question. What was my goal -- what is my goal, in addressing this topic from the pulpit this morning?

As your pastor, I know very well that homosexuality is a tender subject among us. It is an issues on which, as Christian people, we have diverse opinions and often very complex feelings. But I also know that this is a real question among us; it is not just a theoretical one. That's why you raised it. There are parents sitting here this morning who are wondering why their child is gay, if it means they've done something wrong, if anyone else has ever struggled with this. There are gay and lesbian Christians who are active members of the church, but who live in the closet because they don't want to lose their jobs, their homes, or your friendship and respect.

There are teenagers here who have contemplated suicide because they suspect they might be gay. Each of us here has our own background, confusion, and experience with this issue. It is time we talked about it.

My goal, this morning is to open the conversation. And this is the thought that occurred to me on Tuesday: what is the best way to begin the conversation? It's not by presenting a logical line of argument. That's how you begin a debate, not a conversation! The best way to begin a conversation, in which you want others to feel free to speak their mind, and no perspective to be silenced, is simply speak from your heart, out of your own experiences.

So let me set aside my pile of books and papers, this morning, and share with you at least part of my own journey around this issue. In the months ahead, beginning with the "dialogue" time immediately following church today, I invite you to do the same.

I grew up in an atmosphere of traditional values. My family belonged to a Congregational church in which, week after week, I absorbed a basically mainline Christian theology that emphasized the love of God for all people I was taught that the most important thing in life is to love God, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. In that environment, oddly enough, I don't remember one word ever being spoken about homosexuality. I don't even know when I first heard the term -- probably not before high school. When I did, it was not with any heavy overlay of negativity -- and in this, I have come to realize, my experience is very different from many people's. I did not grow up being told homosexuality was shameful or sordid; I never had a bad experience such as being molested by a person of my own gender. Only as an adult do I realize what a tremendous impact such early experiences have in shaping people's attitudes toward homosexuality.

In fact, I had never met a homosexual person, as far as I knew, even into my twenties. This combination of influences meant that my attitude was pretty much "live-and-let-live." I didn't see how it hurt anyone, or how it threatened me, if two people of the same sex wanted to love each other and live together. What was the big deal?

It really wasn't until seminary, when I was thirty years old, that the issue acquired a human face for me. Her name was Sally. I was a commuting student at Vancouver School of Theology, with a job and a husband and three children in Seattle. I drove up to Vancouver on Mondays and came home on Wednesdays, so I needed a place to stay two nights a week. Sally had a studio apartment on campus that she was willing to share in return for prorated rent. Over the next three years, Sally and I became fast friends.

I had never met anyone like Sally. For one thing, she was much more disciplined in her spiritual life than I was. She got up at 5:00 every morning, which I thought of as an ungodly hour, and left the apartment for a walk or a bike ride, during which she would pray. She bought all her clothes at Goodwill and had only five changes of clothing and two pairs of shoes in the closet. She spent several days a week volunteering in a soup kitchen downtown. She kept a prayer journal. Basically, she put me to shame. But the most appealing thing about Sally was that she loved God. She laughed easily, loved life, loved people, was funny and fun. One night, as we were going to bed--each of us in a single bed lined against the wall, our heads in the corners and our feet toward each other --she asked if I wanted to pray. I had never prayed with another person before--at least, not like that, opening our inner lives before God, in each other's presence--and at first I was halting and shy. But over time we made a habit of praying together, and it was in the course of those years of praying, of being honest with ourselves as possible in the presence of God, that Sally came out to herself as gay.

It was no problem for me that Sally was discovering this--and I have to add here, that like most people, Sally discovered her sexual orientation; it wasn't something she decided. Isn't that true for you, that your sexual orientation is something that just seems "given"? It wasn't as if Sally woke up one morning and thought, "All things being equal, I think I'd like to be a member of a despised minority." It was more a process of discovering and owning the truth about her make-up as a human being.

But I soon learned what a traumatic discovery that would be. Sally came out first to herself before God, then to her family, then to the seminary, then to the church. I accompanied her in that process. When the Presbyterian Church kicked her out of the ordination process, I was stricken; how could they say that Sally was not qualified to be a pastor? She was the best student in her class, and a better Christian than I ever expect to be. I knew that she had been gifted and called to the ministry. Then Sally was fired from her job as the Youth Director at the church, because someone sent the pastor a letter saying that she was gay. All I could think at the time was; this is absurd, this is evil. Sally is great with those kids; why would people assume she is not safe to work with them? Why did they think a heterosexual man or woman would be safer?

Things came to a head for me, one morning, when I was standing in the kitchen, pouring a glass of orange juice, and listening to Sally cry her eyes out on the bed. She often did, in those days. Finally I went over to her, sat on the edge of the bed, and began to stroke her hair. I was filled with helpless rage at the world, and fierce tenderness for my friend. I heard myself saying, "Sally, I don't know what being gay is. But if it's part of who you are, and if God made you this way, I say I'm glad you are who you are, and I love who you are, and I wouldn't want you to be any different."

As soon as those words were out of my mouth, I realized something. I had taken a stand. I knew where I stood on this issue. Sally did not deserve to be despised and rejected; it was the church who was wrong. After seminary I was appointed to serve Wallingford United Methodist Church in Seattle, which had decided some years earlier to become a reconciling congregation -- that is, a congregation that publicly states it is open and affirming toward all people, regardless of sexual orientation. From that point on, my learning curve was steep! One of my first pastoral calls was to a young man who had just slit his wrists with a razor blade. He explained that he was a Christian and couldn't deny it, that he was also gay and couldn't deny that either, even tough he had tried. He had been told he couldn't be both. His father had called him "human garbage." He was not fit to live. All I could do, in response, was to get down on my knees and ask for forgiveness for the church, for communicating to this young man that he was beyond the reach of God's love.

In the five years that followed, I had many such experiences. I had young men with AIDS look up at me with hollow eyes and ask, "Do you think I am an abomination?" I sat with young men calling for their parents as they died, parents who never came. These experiences had a profound impact on me. I kept going back in my mind, again, and again, to my earliest Christian training; the message that God loves everyone, and that Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself. He didn't say, "love your neighbor, unless he or she happens to be homosexual." He never said one word about homosexuality at all.

Jesus spent his whole life going to the poor, the marginalized, the persons who were called unclean by their society, and demonstrating that God's love included them. He treated them with compassion. His own harshest words were for the Pharisees who believed that they were righteous in God's eyes, that others were not, and that God's judgments and opinions were identical to their own.

Which brings me to the question of what the Bible has to say about homosexuality. There is not time, this morning, to take up that question in depth -- we will have plenty of time for that later, in ongoing Bible studies and discussion. But let me say a few things here. The world "homosexual" does not appear anywhere in the Bible -- that words was not invented in any language, until the 1890s, when for the first time the awareness developed that there are people with a constitutional orientation toward their own sex.

In the whole Bible, there are only seven brief passages that deal with homosexual behavior. The first is the story of Sodom and Gomorra, which I preached on last fall, which is actually irrelevant to the issue. The attempted gang rape in Sodom has nothing to say about whether or not genuine love expressed between consenting adults of the same gender is legitimate.

Neither does the passage in Deuteronomy 23, which refers to Canaanite fertility rites that have infiltrated Jewish worship. Passages in I Corinthians and I Timothy refer to male prostitution. Two often-quoted passages prohibiting male homosexual behavior are found in the book of Leviticus. Leviticus also stipulates that any man who touches a woman during her menstrual period is to be stoned to death, that adulterers are to be executed, that interracial marriage is sinful, that two types of cloth are not to be worn together, and certain foods must never be eaten.

I know of no Christians, no matter how fundamentalist, who believe that Christians are bound to obey all of the Levitical laws. Instead we are driven to ask deeper questions about how to rightly interpret Scripture, how to separate the Word of God from cultural norms and prejudices -- that is, how to separate the Message from the envelope in which it comes.

The final Biblical text that deals with homosexual behavior is found in Paul's letter to the Romans, in which he unequivocally condemns homosexual behavior. The background for his understanding was the common Roman practice of older males 'keeping' young boys for sexual exploitation, which he was right to condemn.

But even if this were not the case, even if Paul knew about and condemned all forms of homosexual behavior, even the most loving, what then? Paul also told women not to teach, not to cut their hair, not to speak in church. Do we follow his teaching? He told slaves to obey their masters not once, but five times -- are we prepared to say today, as Southern slave owners argued 150 years ago, that slavery is God's will?

The fact is, I am not a disciple of Paul. I am an admirer of Paul, but a disciple of Jesus Christ. Paul himself says that we should not follow him, but Christ alone. So I come back, again to the life and teaching of Jesus as the center of my faith. In that light all other biblical teaching must be critiqued. There are seven passages about homosexual behavior in the Bible, all of which are debatable as to their meaning for us today. There are thousands of references in the Bible that call us, as Jesus commands, to love our neighbor, to work for peace and reconciliation among all people, and to leave judgment to God.

When I was pastor at Wallingford, I put biblical and intellectual foundations under my "heart" experience of knowing Sally. In those years I also came to appreciate a community in which both gay and straight Christians could worship together, serve on the Trustees, sing in the choir -- simply be human together, trying to grow in the capacity to love God and neighbor without fear.

As a result, when you ask me, "Is homosexuality a sin?" My answer today is: "No." I don't believe that sexual orientation has anything to do with morality, any more than being blond or tall or left-handed does. Homosexuals as well as heterosexuals can be involved in sexual sin, including promiscuity, infidelity, and abuse. And homosexuals as well as heterosexuals can love one another with faithfulness, tenderness, and integrity. The same standards of moral behavior should apply to Christians, straight and gay. That is what my life experience as a pastor has led me to believe.

When a homosexual couple comes to meet with me in my office, then, and asks, "Will we be accepted in this church?" I can answer, "I will accept you." But I can only speak for myself. What shall I say on behalf of our whole congregation?

Shall I say, "Yes, you will be accepted here, as long as you aren't open about who you are and who you love?" Shall I say, "Yes, you will be accepted here, but you may not serve in any leadership positions." Shall I say, "Yes, you will be accepted here, but whatever you do, don't hold hands in church. Only heterosexual couples are allowed to do that." Shall I just say, "No." Or, perhaps, simply, "Yes."

The only way we will arrive at a consensus on how this question should be answered is by taking time, over the coming year, to examine ourselves, study the Bible, think, read, pray, listen, and share our diverse life experiences with each other, asking together what God is calling this congregation to do and be.

Let the conversation begin.

Amen.

Blessed Yule

Another Turning of the Wheel has started, and fittingly it's the coldest day in recent memory here at home-- midwinter darkness, indeed. Single digits this morning. Brrrrrrr....

Sunrise was at 7:10 this morning. The sun will set at 4:15 p.m. We live in darkness in Massachusetts in winter. Beh.

The INTERESTING thing is that today is not the date of the latest sunrise nor the earliest sunset here in eastern Mass. The latest sunrise doesn't come until New Year's Day, when the sun will rise at 7:14. The earliest sunset was back on Dec. 13th, when it went down at 4:12.

I'm not doing all the math to see if today actually is the shortest day, based on that. We're talking a matter of sheer minutes. Let's just round it out for Massachusetts and say that December and early January are entirely too dark around here. I can't fathom how people survive in Alaska. I really can't.

No real plans for the holiday today-- since I also celebrate Christmas as a family holiday, I usually just wait until Christmas Eve to celebrate. Besides, the Polish traditions of my grandparents are far richer than anything I can cook up myself. :)

But for my fellow Pagans who celebrate Yule-- a Blessed one to you.

Slip-sliding away

I live in Massachusetts. It snows. It snows quite often this time of year. Which is why I can't fathom how absolutely stupid so many drivers are in this state.

People react to snow around here in one of two ways-- they drive at a complete crawl (read: 10 miles an hour... even on dry pavement) but ignore all things such as lane dividers, stop signs, or other drivers. These are the really dangerous folks, because they move so slowly out of sheer cluelessness that they will follow you to purposely run you off the road.

The other type of driver in snowy Massachusetts is the person who is oblivious to slick pavement and refuses to slow down at all, being an asshole to the drivers in front of him on the highway with flashing lights and getting about four inches from the tailpipe. In good weather, it's a common habit of Massholes in the left lane. But in snowy weather, they seem to think it's also acceptable to do this in the middle lane or even the right hand lane.

Fuckers.

Traffic, thanks to vacations and school closures, was surprisingly light today. But because I had to battle a combination of both psycho drivers, it still took me an hour to go my whopping 20 miles to work. I left at 9. I got to work at 10. I rescheduled the vet appointment for Gus that was at 11, because really-- I'd be doing a "hi, bye" here at the office to get back home, and I don't think my boss would approve.

And honestly, by slowing down just about five miles an hour on dry pavement and maybe 10 miles an hour on really sketchy looking pavement, you can drive just fine in the snow. It's good to be cautious-- but the extremes are stupid and honestly dangerous to the rest of us.

Fellow Massholes-- please drive with a shred of sanity. Please? The residual effects of my massage from last week really need to stay in place for a bit, given its cost. I'd rather not have my shoulders tense back up by stupid snow drivers.

On a better (and completely unrelated note), I got through a horde of mail last night-- all of my immediate need cards are done (including those who asked for cards). They're going out today. All of my "other need" cards are penpal letters, and I'll work on those throughout the week, intermingled with catching up on swaps and taming back the swapping corner. I only have a couple more gifts to get, and none have to be mailed, so I'm not stressing too much.

Tonight Erich and I plan to get our mobile phones replaced. Our plan is just fine for our needs so we'll just renew it, but our phones suck. I am training myself to use cell phones. I just need to remember to charge the damn thing.

Onward to work... more later.

Lights of a different color

Given that I only have about ten feet of deck to work with (and no yard), my options for outdoor holiday decorating are extremely limited. However, the following things will never, EVER be found in my yard for the holidays:

1) eight foot high blow-up creatures. I don't care if the Santa!Homer is kinda funny. They're tacky as all hell.

2) lighted deer with moving heads. (Do they realize how creepy it is to see those while driving)

3) Those 1950's plastic figures that are the Christmas equivalent of garden gnomes

4) Spotlights on my garage door with some weird decorative frame over the light to say "Happy holidays"

What you will find in my decorations are completely unconventional colors. I try to avoid white, red, and green. They're too common. Multicolored lights? Nah. I did that in college. Again-- too common. I'd like to be somewhat original, even if it's a sloppy mess of original.

This year, we went for unconventional colors, and unintentionally came near-Mardi Gras with our choices. :) Since we are on a high, open balcony, the icicle stringled lights do look really good. We selected blue ones (avoiding traditional white). They're more of a cyan blue than a deep blue, though.

To make sure they're straight (because nothing says ghetto like sloppily hung icicle lights), we wrapped a beautiful purple string of lights around the entire top rail of our deck fence. It's very bright, looks good, and is a more unusual combo. I like it. :)

On the inside of the doorframe to the living room, we hung a string of gold (and these are the warmest gold lights I've ever seen). Since we didn't put up a Yule tree this year (we'll be out of town), we needed something small to decorate. The gold gives a very soft, cozy glow to the room.

And I've heard rumors that it's supposed to snow tonight. White Christmas, perhaps?

I've been what?

Apparently, I've been "slurped."

Sometime yesterday, yahoo's webcrawler went in and read over 200 of my entries, using a robot that they named "slurp." Ewwwww.

I just feel so... violated. In a weird digital way.

It surprised me for a moment to see 171 individual readers in my stats. I NEVER get those types of numbers. Ever.

It's about noon, and looks to be a beautiful day out there. I have two loads of laundry in the machine and a bit over two more to get done today. Erich and I will hang the lights on the deck at some point this afternoon-- we have purple, blue, and gold ones (to be a bit more original). Our deck is only about 10 feet wide and four feet deep, so getting them on the rail will be a fairly fast project. The larger part will be cleaning the carcasses of my summer garden out of the pots so the lights aren't obstructed. I have dried tomato vines everywhere.

Along with that, I'm going to be doing a lot of penpalling stuff today. It's an easy thing to do as I get laundry done. And maybe I'll play some more Sims 2 and have guys get abducted by aliens. It's sadistic fun to get the male sims probed and impregnated with alien babies. Granted-- now I have a lot of green Sim children running around my neighborhood (including three sets of alien twins), but it's still amusing.

Okay-- time to change laundry over. Photos coming in my next entry, once I uncover my hookup cable for the camera.

~ Mel.

Holiday Party Goodness

More is coming on the Phoenix trip-- I want to include photos, and I can't find my cable to upload everything from my card... so hopefully that'll be coming tomorrow, along with my gift preparations, holiday cards (I have sent like... two), two weeks of laundry, stringing lights on the deck, cleaning out my email, shopping as needed, maybe seeing Alexander with Erich, and cleaning out the penpalling corner a bit.

Nah... I have NOTHING to do! Can you tell?

*sigh* Holidays, gotta love them. I'm in denial that Yule is here on Monday. I'm in bigger denial that Christmas arrives this coming weekend. Where the hell did the time go? I swear, my brain goes into denial of the holiday season until about a week before. By that time, I've rememorized "Do They Know It's Christmas" during my commutes-- even though I always catch the song where Bono starts singing-- and gotten so sick of Annie Lennox's version of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" that I'm ready for the holidays to be over.

But what REALLY makes me realize that Christmas is almost here is the company holiday party. Ours was yesterday afternoon-- during work hours so everyone can make it, and spouses don't come (and no babysitters required). My company rents out the ballroom of a local hotel since we have 200+ people at the thing. There's a yummy lunch, open bar for a couple hours, and the best part of all-- the silent auction.

The very cool thing that my company does during its holiday party is the silent auction. Coworkers donate items, which range from small handmade earrings to bottles of liquor to gift certificates to their own works of art (and everything in between). They're displayed on tables, and for the first two hours of the party, people can write their bids. Some items get pretty fierce-- one of my department co-workers bakes baskets of gingerbread cookies every year that fetch a good penny. And two others in my department put their own original oil paintings into the auction, both of which I know fetched over $350 this year.

The best part? All of the money raised during the auction goes to charity. So while we're celebrating the holidays, we're also helping others to have a bit more cheer as well. Last year we raised over $7,000 in four hours. I'd imagine that it'll be close to that again this year.

Another good thing? I have a chance of finding things for my parents. I hate shopping for my parents-- they have everything. I have no clue what to get them. Ever. And I don't dare ask them, because Mom usually says not to get her anything (which would make me feel like shit, so I ignore her) and Dad gives me lists that have items out of my price range (because he forgets that unlike himself, his daughter doesn't make a doctor's salary).

Granted, the fact that I'm still on very wary and distant terms with my dad doesn't lend to lots of presents, either. I seriously doubt I'll be getting anything from him. BUT... I wanted to get him something small, at least because my internal guilt trips last year were too nasty. So... I bought him the official locker room T-shirt for the World Series, and an official baseball. Nothing expensive, but he's a baseball fan (Phillies), and it's something I know he can appreciate at least.

Mom's presents came yesterday by chance-- thankfully. I've decided to lump her presents, since she always protests, into presents for her and her doggie. As is family tradition, I bought her the yearly ornament for the tree-- this year I bought her a collie dog ornament (since Shanti is a rough collie). And at the company holiday party, I was lucky to win the auction for two really cute bone-shaped toys that were all Christmasey.

So the 'rents are done. Now I just need to figure out a couple others, and I'll be all done so I can go back to being in denial until we're on I-87 heading to Pennsylvania at the end of the week...

* throws confetti *

She couldn't live further away from me (and still be in the lower 48) if she tried... so I'm throwing my little party here.

Happy 30th birthday Andi!!

You're now again a year older than me-- hah! Granted... it's for only a month, as always, but I just have to say that-- as I always do. :)

I have to admit, though-- it's very weird that you're 30. I've been spending the last few months trying to get used to saying that about myself. That I'm going to be 30. It's a bit easier to conceptualize Erich being 30. But for some reason, grasping it about you is a bit more difficult... perhaps because I've known you so long, and probably because most of my memories of the two of us are this big jumbled mess of age five (only because I can't remember earlier) to age 21.

There are many days that I miss our time of going on great safaris through the Rimrocks, climbing along those ledges that our parents would kill us for going near. When I've been home, the boulders still have their names-- Telephone Rock, Sandwich Rock. You know-- I tried to climb into the little cave in Sandwich Rock when I was home last, just to see if our scratching was still on the wall. (I couldn't-- my ass is too big).

Around five o'clock in the afternoon most days, I still get a little memory of quickly running up and touching Ghost Rock together so the "unknown spirits" of the Rims wouldn't get us, even though Ghost Rock is 2,000 miles away and there really is no substitute around here. What WAS that spirit we were afraid of (either jokingly or seriously), anyway?

And FYI-- apparently we're not the only ones who do that, because as of two years ago, the current kids of the neighborhood seem to believe the same "curse" and do the same thing. We're suburban legend creators! *beams proudly* And yes, I'm proud to be the one who corrupted you into swearing. I'm sure your parents are so proud of me. But you have to admit, it was a gift that just had to be passed on!

I don't know if you saw it last year-- but I fought so hard not to laugh when Star Trek: Nemesis came out. The whole Troi-Riker arc made me immediately think of you. Especially with how crushed we were as it seemed that said romance was falling flat in the later seasons. To answer your question-- the badly written Star Trek fic AND that really-should-not-be-spoken-of-again attempt at sex!fic that we wrote is... somewhere. I'm hoping it's in the storage tubs at my mom's house and wasn't left in my room for the Stepmonster to find when she took over my room at home. Said fics should probably never see the light of day again. *grin* But if I ever do, you'll get a copy-- a photocopied copy (because the handwriting is part of that whole experience) so you can giggle, too.

Pool parties, sleepovers, the introduction of the classic party games (*ahem* I never got my bra back from your parent's freezer)... the two of us did everything together. It's no wonder we were love-hate throughout our childhood, amusing our parents to no end with the "I'm not talking to her-- I hate her" b.s., followed in about a week by "Oh that? No, that was nothing, Mom!". I swear, the two of us are siblings more than we are with our actual sibs a lot of the time! No wonder they never got involved in our squabbles-- we just always seemed to fix them ourselves.

It amazes me how much you've been a part of my life-- how important a part of my life you are. And even though we don't talk as often now due to the miles and our everyday lives, I'm happy to know that if I pick up the phone, we just start talking as if no time has passed since the last conversation.

So have a happy birthday, Andi. Hug that little cutie of yours and kiss the bigger cutie. And enjoy.

(and I'll enjoy my last 32 days of my twenties until I catch up to you again)

Love ya,
"Kent"

Profession: Adult Babysitter

Herding cats doesn't quite describe it. But I'm convinced that when you get a group of more than ten adults in a department and give them an administrative assistant, they all instantly become two year olds who can't do anything for themselves.

Today:

First subject of discussion is Coworker #1. Coworker #1 is a kind woman in her mid 40's who has worked at my company for the past seven years.

Coworker #1: Mel, do we have any paperclips?
Me: There should be a ton in the cabinet
Coworker #1: Yeah, I looked there. I didn't see any.
Me: (knowing that I just put twenty boxes of them in the cabinet yesterday). Top shelf on the right. Red Staples boxes. Just grab one.
Coworker #1: I didn't see any. I just need a couple. Can you help me?
Me: (name of coworker), I just put twenty boxes in the cabinet. There have to be some in there. No one goes through 20,000 paperclips in a day.
Coworker #1: I didn't see any. Honest.
Me: Okay. Fine. Let's go to the cabinet. (I get up, fighting the sigh)
Coworker #1: Okay.

There are 20 boxes of paperclips in the cabinet. Right where I told her. I handed her one. She takes FOUR PAPERCLIPS out of the box and HANDS IT BACK TO ME.

WTF?

Take the damn box. They cost a cent. Literally. Because I know you're going to come back tomorrow and ask me for a few more.

And really, is it that hard to read the red box that says "Paperclips" on the side?!?

I'm convinced she just wants my nifty colored ones that I got for cheap at Staples last year.


Second subject of discussion: Coworker #2

Coworker #2 has been with the company for a month and works for us through a temp agency. She's a tad clingy, and one of the ones who is in my cubicle ten times a day for something or other. I have physically disappeared from my cubicle on purpose when I've heard her coming.

Coworker #2: Mel, I haven't gotten paid for last week.
Me: For last week as in week ending Friday the 3rd?
Coworker #2: No. Thanksgiving week.
Me: Have you called payroll?
Coworker #2: No.
Me: Okay. You need to call them. I don't have access to paychecks.
Coworker #2: But you can cut me a check, right?
Me: No. I have no authority to cut checks.
Coworker #2: But you cut all of the checks.
Me: Noooo... Payroll cuts checks. Where did you hear that I did them?
Coworker #2: Well, admin assistants do all of the check writing, don't they? It's administrative.
Me: Payroll takes care of pay checks. Accounts payable takes care of any other checks.
Coworker #2: oh. (stops to think). So if I get you my timesheet, then you can give me my check? Because you send stuff to them, right?
Me: YOU need to send your timesheet to payroll. I can't send it there. (getting the picture) Did you turn in a timesheet for Thanksgiving week?
Coworker #2: No.
Me: Well, you need to do that, and then payroll can pay you. That's why you haven't been paid.
Coworker #2: Oh. Okay. But if I give it to you, you can get me paid today, right?


AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!

thankfully, one of the intelligent co-workers heard this conversation and called me from her desk to save me. I was able to shoo stupid coworker (#2) out of my cube.

How do these people survive? Honestly. I want to know.

*sigh*

(and one of these days, I'll have a positive entry. Honest)

Mortality

Like so many people during their commutes, I listen to the radio on the way home in the evening. I usually flip between WAAF (to get my hard rock buzz), WBZ (for news) and WEEI (sports radio-- though I listen specifically for the "whiner line" call in segment of the commute program). It depends on the day. Sometimes I flip between all of them a lot. Sometimes I stick somewhere.

Last night, I stuck as I heard the news.

David Brudnoy is dying.

*sigh*

For those of you not in the Boston area, David Brudnoy is a well-known personality on radio here in Beantown. He's been on air since the late 70's with a wonderfully intelligent, thought-provoking show. He had a wonderful speaking voice-- full of life and intelligence that could border on arrogance, but had a softness and warmness about it that didn't intimidate. He's a gay man, and he's been surviving full blown AIDS for over a decade (including some very close call scares).

Brudnoy was a professor in the College of Communication at Boston University, and was slated to be my original faculty advisor. But he grew very ill and had to go on leave a couple months before I was slated to meet with him for the first time. Jason had the pleasure of a class with him as an undergrad, and spoke so highly of him as a professor. I knew him more from his hours in the journalism department office when I worked there post-graduation as the department secretary.

So when I heard the news last night, I immediately called Jason.

We listened to his final broadcast last night-- an interview by one of his colleagues. Professor Brudnoy is now in the hospital, dying. The interview was heartwrenching-- his voice was so weak, yet his view on where his life has been, and where he is going was so accepting. He joked in the interview about frantically finishing his grading for the most recent term of papers to prevent students from getting an automatic inflated grade. A smartass to the end.

He's in my thoughts today, and while I'm sad that his life is coming to an end, I'm happy that he's found acceptance of his situation to approach it with such amazing courage.

I could only hope to reach such a point.

Farewell, Professor.

Dreaming of Warm Places

Ah yes... it's raining upward. And sideways. And diagonally. And in a spiral. And in any other direction you might possibly imagine which would make an umbrella a quaint but completely unusable item. It's wet. It's raw. It's cold. Bleh. December in Massachusetts. Ick.

I am SO ready for my trip to Phoenix this Saturday. I'm relieved that I know that I'm actually going, too. My mom put herself in charge of making reservations for me about three weeks ago. So I've been waiting for them. By Saturday, I was a bit nervous about the possibility that maybe I wasn't going after all, because I hadn't heard anything from her. Yesterday evening, she sent the official itinerary fax. Other than a really tightconnection back next Wednesday, it looks just fine. The whole 9:23 p.m. arrival in Charlotte and 9:55 p.m. departure from Charlotte has me a bit... worried. Hopefully my gates will be close together and the weather will be okay. *crosses fingers*

So this weekend and early next week, I'm going to be slacking off, using my remaining vacation days, and pampering myself in complete and utter luxury with my mom. Girl's week out (she's paying. This is a Not.On.My.Salary! type of place). I'm going to be smiling sweetly to beg my mom to cover a massage, and either a facial or a pedicure (I've never had either professionally done) as my Christmas gifts, if I can swing it.

The Meditation Atrium and I are going to be close friends, too. It's been a long time since I've had the opportunity to sit and meditate. Zen = love.

*le sigh*

My brother (who lives in Phoenix) will be hanging out with us when he's not at work. It's a dual-purpose trip, after all. Mom and I haven't had the one on one time in years. And since Scott can't travel for the holidays this year, we're bringing the holidays to him.

And I've never been to Phoenix, so I get to explore a new place on top of it all. Yay!

It makes tolerating this yuck weather a bit easier...

Sisterly Weekend

FIRST--- I'm doing holiday cards next week. If you want me to send one to you, please quickly pop over here and add your info if you want one. My address book is a disaster. So even if I talk to you all the time on email, add yourself in. :)

I spent a good portion of my weekend up on campus to attend sorority schtuff. I feel like I was a complete slacker this weekend. But had a great time. :)

The majority of the Alpha Beta class went through 2nd degree on Saturday, followed by a long lunch over at Sunset Tap (formerly The 99, formerly Jumbalaya, formerly Caffe Lampara). Service was shitty, food was pretty good, but the company was fabulous. I got back home later than I expected and was a bit wiped out. I love being around people, but after a while large groups just exhaust me. So I spent most of the evening doing nothing special-- playing Sims 2, watching TV, playing with the cats, that sort of thing. It was nice having the apartment to myself, though.

Erich and Jason were off playing D&D at Frank's new home down in Providence. I was long in bed when they got back-- Erich gave a rough estimate of 5 a.m. (they DO realize they're no longer in college, right?)

Sunday was a lazy day for the most part. Erich was pretty zonked out all day. Jason dragged himself up and went over to a friend's place for the football games. I headed back up to campus around five to attend chapter meetings and such.

And on my way there, I nearly drove my car off Storrow Drive.

Anyone who lives in the general Boston area, I challenge you to attempt to keep your car straight if you're driving westbound on Storrow, too. Because when you reach the flats of Back Bay, there's a VERY unusual sight in the sky.

The Citgo sign is... working!

As in... every single tube of light is actually bright and working.

Anyone who has spent time in Boston in the last dozen years or so can appreciate that. No really-- both sides of the sign, even. There are no breaks (unlike in this photo from last summer.

It's really, really weird.

And the white is WHITE. The red is actually red-- it's not orange anymore. And the blue is a brilliant royal blue. It's a fucking beacon. And startled the shit out of me. Having spent many nights tromping through Kenmore, staring up at that sign with its not-so-random pattern of white and red color scrolling, seeing it in its correct spot but not familiar form was honestly a bit disconcerting. But considering that Kenmore Square itself just isn't Kenmore anymore (and has gone destressingly upscale), I guess they kinda did need to finally restore the Citgo Sign, eh?

It looks great-- of all of the changes in Kenmore, this is the one that I like. :)

Miracles of miracles, I found parking right next to where I needed to be. Yes, it was a Sunday night. But I didn't park on Bay State, and I found a spot on the street. I need to gloat for a moment.

CLA CAS is as fucking cold as I remember it. I swear there is no heat in that building. Ever. You'd think that with umpteen thousand students all paying about forty grand a year for college, they could make the heat work correctly in there. I realize I'm dreaming... but it's just a thought for the trustees and the B & G crew. It is December. Heat is a good thing. Really. Needless to say, I was very glad that I remembered to throw a long-sleeved shirt under my letter shirt. Otherwise I would have been in my coat the entire time.

But the meetings went well (from my perspective). I've now reached the status of Old Business. Yikes. Got lotsa dates and such to update on the site tonight... along with the spelling of Laura's name. (if there are typos guys? just email me with the correction... seriously... I'll fix 'em).

Holidailies starts tomorrow. I'm going to be portal-posting and using my Diary-X space for the main link, but will be posting everything as normal elsewhere.

Off to get timesheets in the system. I'll be on Trillian tonight for a good chunk of the evening if anyone's on any instant messengers... drop me a line if you're bored. :)

BIBLICAL PROPORTIONS, I tell ya!

So Erich and I dragged every last piece of dirty laundry over to the laundromat last night-- we had to put the seats down in the back of the Jeep to get it to fit. Laundry of Biblical proportions, I tell ya. Seriously. The only people who should have this much laundry to do at once are people with umpteen children.

It came to sixteen loads. Thank Goddess for the Uber washer. :) Five loads at once? Yeah... all the colored clothes? Get yer azzes in there.

We also had two sets of king sized sheets and the plethora of towels for the house. By the time I finished folding towels, Erich was vastly amused. Granted, they were on a table-- but the stack was taller than my head.

Total quarter cost for this little adventure ran somewhere in the high $20.00 range. Gah.

But it's DONE. Thank Goddess.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Rejoice, Florida, for today is the last official day of hurricane season...

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Colley's checkup went okay. He gained two pounds in the last year (he's at 12.5 pounds-- pretty small for a Norwegian, but still perfectly healthy weight for a male cat), and has a healthier heartrate than he did last year. I'm guessing both of these are due to romping with Gus, now that he's got a similarly-sized and strengthed buddy.

He DOES have serious inflamation on his teeth from gingivitis and the starting signs of periodontal (sp?) disease. This was no surprise to me-- they warned me of this possibility last year, so I was mentally preparing for it. So in the next few months, we have to bring him back to get his teeth cleaned and possibly get a tooth or two extracted if it's really bad. Poor baby. He was blessed with good looks, but he lost three milk teeth before age two. He wasn't blessed with good teeth. It's not a cheap procedure, however-- somewhere between $275 and $550. *sigh*

(I'm seeing this happen around April when I get my bonus from work).

Otherwise, he was just fine.

And I'll see them for Round Two (aka Gus) in late December.


Yay for me. Can I skip work today? *whimpers*

Holidaze and all that Jazz

Hope everyone else had a nice Thanksgiving. Mine was nice and quiet-- Erich and I visited his dad up in New Hampshire for the day and had a quiet three-person dinner. With a 14 pound turkey. Heh. Needless to say, lotsa leftovers. I'm going to be getting creative with turkey salad this week. What I couldn't believe was how WARM it was on Thanksgiving. It was in the low 60's in New Hampshire. In late November. Really. WTF?

On Friday I got up bright and early with Erich and went into the city. I had a relaxing morning sitting at the Red Cross with an IV in my arm for platelet donation, getting a free movie pass, t-shirt, and got to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time. It was surprisingly good. I'm not a Carrey fan at all, but found it a great movie. Funny and touching just where it should have been, with a very true (albeit painful) message behind it. It also was the first time I perfectly timed my pay-per-view movie there. Usually I pick a movie that's either too short or too long and grumble a bit at missing the end of something (or have nothing to watch... 'cause you can't move your arms while you're in the chair). If you want to know how long it takes to literally be in the chair for donation of platelets? Exactly the length of that movie. Very weird. But the donation went fine. My blood pressure was the highest I've ever seen it, however... so I'm going to keep an eye on that when I go again next month. If it's still high, I'll call my doctor to get checked out. I'm well aware, being in the obese category of body weight, that I need to be really careful about the high blood pressure thing. Also well aware that with no family medical history available to me, if I have concerns, I should get them checked.

After the donation, I met up with Erich since his office is only a short walk across Chinatown. We grabbed sushi at Ginza for lunch (yummy!) and I headed home, hoping to have a quiet afternoon at the apartment by myself to putter. But as I got off the highway in Randolph, Jason called-- and was only about five minutes behind me on Rt. 24. He'd driven back up from Staten Island to be home for Erich's game on Saturday. So no quiet time. But I was oddly tired (not related to the donation) and really didn't get anything done anyway. Played lots and lots of Sims 2. I have families with three generations now. I feel proud. Heh.

On Saturday, we headed to Tone's for Erich's D&D game. Our poor group got transported to the Barrens of Doom and Despair. But we managed to survive (yay!) and now owe the God of Vengeance some time as indentured servants. I wasn't in the mood to play on the way over, but by the evening I got into it a bit.

Yesterday was penpal haven for me-- getting tons of letters and cards done. I got a few swaps caught up and need to do some more this week so I don't have people on yahoogroups shooting me. They probably already are. *shrug* The weather was sucktastic all day yesterday, I have to say. I made kielbasa and sauerkraut (babci recipe... yummy!) over mashed potatoes for dinner. I rarely cook, so it's noteworthy. :)

Tonight's laundry night from hell-- we're loading up the Jeep and taking it all to the mat. Between the LAN party and busy weekends, plus sheets and towels, there's easily 12 loads here between Erich and I. Quite possibly more, if you factor in towel and king-sized sheet bulk. This is why I love our neighborhood Pakistani laundromat. Because they have five-load washers for six bucks. :) AND even with all of that laundry to do, we'll have it done in 2.5 hours. Gotta love it. :) After that, I'll probably be online, so anyone who wants to drop an IM, feel free. I'm going to be cleaning out my vat of email and getting some stuff sent off that I need to do.

Off to work, since I need to leave at two to take Colley for his checkup.

Yay!

I think I actually have everything working. Maybe... possibly. :)

The page doesn't work in Internet Explorer for Mac, but it does on Safari, and I'm sure it'll work better on the PC, where IE and other browsers are still supported.

Perhaps I can scoot stuff over here faster than I expected. Hmm...

One of these days I'll learn not to get overloaded...

I am now officially 10,000 words behind on my NaNo novel. grrrrr.... the reality of 50,000 this year is slipping away, and I'm annoyed as hell, but as Erich discussed with me last night, the living situation right now doesn't exactly give me options to find quiet time to write. Plus I was so broke until this morning (yay for getting paid) that I didn't have the money to escape to Borders for quiet time, or to $tarbuck$ during my lunch hour.

And my schedule has been so busy that I really haven't had the energy to pursue the writing much in the last week. *sigh* Perhaps if my plot hadn't completely unwound itself, I'd be in better shape.

I'll keep plugging, though. The novel's going to take turns that I didn't expect-- hopefully one of these turns will get me back into a groove. A couple of really good writing days and some inspiration, and I still could make up that 10K this weekend during the LAN.

It frustrates me, though. And because I'm stubborn as hell, I'll fight to the end of November, and probably clunk this novel attempt with the two before it.

~~~~~~~~~

I went up to campus yesterday afternoon to spend time with the Sisters and celebrate the First Degree for the new membership class. It's odd, because I honestly barely remember my first degree. I remember being confused and overwhelmed by the idea of becoming a pledge membership candidate. I never thought I'd be sorority material.

I have to wonder if any of the Alpha Beta class members will relate ten years from now...

Anyway, had a great time chatting before Degree and during lunch. Looking forward to Second next month. And according to Slywinkle and Ariestar, I'm now "Aunty Klutz" since I'm not in any of the current membership lines, but am related to all of them. I mock protest, but actually am very amused by it. I really didn't intend to become THAT aunt... but life takes those turns, eh? :)

In other sorority-related news.... I finally got rid of the big ol' composite photo from 1994-1995, plus history stuff that's been in my storage area since 1996 (yay!). They're in the history room where they belong, and not sitting in the shed in Stoughton.

~~~~~~~~~

Tonight starts the battle of The World's Largest Dungeon. We're one of four groups being put through the dungeon by the owner of our neighborhood gaming store. Four hour sessions (timed). We accomplish what we accomplish, and then get pulled out of the dungeon and put in limbo until we go in again next month.

I've seen this book (didn't look through it, since I knew I'd be playing it). It's farking HUGE.

Yes, I'm a geek. *grins proudly*


Okay... gotta get work done... more later.

It's Heee-rrrrre!

Snow is falling. Winter's here.

Gah.

So here's the deal...

Originally posted at Diary-X when I decided to move my journal... which is why it sounds weird here.

Yes, I'm moving. I WILL be eventually going here: Measi (dot) Net, which I've had for a year and haven't really developed.

There's no reason for me to pay for the HUGE amount of space and friggin 60 GIGS of bandwidth if I don't use it-- and quite honestly, I'd rather be in control of my own space and have a party over there. It was a dream for years to get my own domain and get my own website off of the free servers and into a responsible (aka paying my way) site.

Everyone is welcome to come over and read, respond, have a party... whatever. I'm not doing the "if you want the address, email me" thing. I'm not dropping anyone from my reading list, nor am I doing the bullshit "I'm going to stop journaling online" thing, disappear, and start another journal in a week on another server.

THAT is where I'm going. Y'all know. Come on over. Feel free to link Measi (dot) net now if you wish, because it's active... just not all that active... yet.

And yes, when I actually do the official move, it will be linked here and left here for as long as Stephen provides free space to unused journals.

To get said new blog up and running, though, I need to learn how to set up my own template with either Blogger or Moveable Type. That'll take me a bit. I've started on a new template over there, using Blogger as the attempt (and got it working with a blogger layout, but I want my own). Other than basic HTML, I'm beyond rusty. I need to give myself the time to do this.

I'm currently doing NaNoWriMo, and DO want to focus this month on writing my novel, as god-awful as it's already turning out. Also known as "I have too much I'm doing this month-- so this will go on the next month backburner." So for now, I'm here.

No, I'm not going back to the forums.

Nor am I going to play the "I should be grateful for the service that is provided to me here on D-X" bullshit game that comes up when arguments strike out. I PAY for my service here. It is a business, not a charity organization. The only thing I owe Stephen is the money for the bandwidth and server space that I use here. He works hard on it and is frustrated with it, and therefore I should be kow-towing? Folks, tell me something that isn't a common complaint with 75% of working Americans these days. It's called WORK. It sucks sometimes. And from the business owner to the person at the bottom of the shit pile (read: me as an admin assistant), there's a lot of crap that has to go on with work that's not fun. And no, appreciation is few and far between for the vast majority of people who work their asses off. It's called life.

The only people who get gratitude in my life are my family, my boyfriend, and my very close friends who help me out with true life problems. My journal service is not something that I need to express gratitude for. It completely devalues the depth of emotion that "gratitude" describes.

The good thing is that avoiding the forums will give me time to read other journals. If you respond to entries, I know you're interested. I will answer responses and also pop over to your journal to do some reading if you leave a link. (but not the "I'll add your link if you add mine crap").

So for the time being, I'm writing here. I will be stopping by my 30th birthday on January 11th, which is when my Diary-X subscription runs out. That gives me time to move archives, get comfortable on the new platform, etc. and still write what I want to write.

Because I do want to write, and I do want to discuss... but the DX forums aren't the place. I have better things to do than waste my time having discussions with people who really couldn't give a crap to interact with me outside of the forums anyway and learn who I am outside of the passionate beliefs I hold about anything.

And yes, I know a couple people have emailed me. I will get back to you. I'm not ignoring you, nor anyone who dropped a comment in my last entry (thank you). I'm about 4,000 words behind in NaNo and owe people geniune business-related emails at the moment (read: already paid-for Reiki attunements) that need to come first.

Plus I'm sleep-deprived, having my period, have a sick boyfriend, am flat broke, and overall just really in dire need of a vacation.

So be patient-- you will hear back from me. And I promise it will be a nice letter.

~ Mel.

I will get my actual template working one of these days... really. *sigh*

Until then, I'm using ye ol' basic template provided by Blogger.

If anyone knows Moveable Type or how to configure regular html/css templates with Blogger script, drop me a line...

I've had enough

Originally posted over on my Diary-X blog when all of the shit was going down.

For the past four years, I've paid my subscription plus extra money for my space here on Diary-X. I paid for the space used for Interviewed, and for my private journal. I have played by the rules, and have been respectful of others with only a few exceptions where I was getting attacked personally.

Quite frankly, I've had it.

I regret ever stepping foot into the forums with one exception-- I was able to announce a project that helped get two very good people on the other side of the country to meet one another.

THAT I will never regret.

I met some great people through my journal here, and hope to continue reading their experiences and that they'll want to share mine...

But I just can't stay here. I can't put up with the bullshit anymore on the forums, and I don't feel like my journal here really is able to recover from the lack of attention since going over there.

I'm done here. I'll be setting up elsewhere. Not on DX, not on DL, not on LJ. You're looking at the new journal. :)

I'm working on setting up the space now. Will announce once it's done. Hope to see you there.

I'm trying to get this to work with my own website... consider this a post test....

here's hoping...

This just isn't going to work...

How the heck am I supposed to get any NaNo morning writing done when the rocking chair I'm sitting in has a major case of Ass Cat? Observe:



I mean, really... he's flopped over the back of the chair trying to catch his own tail through the rungs here. And purring as best as he can in a jackknife position where all of the weight is probably on his stomach.

Nevermind the fact that he's been doing this since he was about six or eight weeks old, and he's NEVER ONCE CAUGHT IT.

This time he's whapping me with his elusive tail because I happen to be in the way.


I've picked him off and put him down twice. He jumps back up. *sigh*

My cat is very, very strange. And very mentally challenged.

*shakes head*

Some honestly non life-shattering thoughts

Originally a locked entry on Diary-X

In light of some recent events, I'm deeply considering leaving DX.

The discomfort has been growing with the management for a while, and I don't feel comfortable sticking around with the behavior over on the forums. Michelle is a fucktard. She's extremely rude, has an open license to attack anyone she wants without repercussion, and if others toe just a bit out of line, they are of course whipped.

Unfortunately, she's also the wife of the owner of DX. Which is why it's futile to really try to do anything about it.

I've been a member here since March 2001. Every year, I've paid for my account and donated double my "rent" so to speak, out of graciousness for the space. And yes, it's inexpensive. And yes, I like the features here for the most part.

But most of the people who I was close friends with here on DX have left. Of course, a couple specifically decided I wasn't worth their time anymore... but that's a different little rant.

After the Nervousness.org temper tantrum by Stephen in late 2002 (where he just decided out of the blue to shut the site off, no warning, no explanation-- just because he felt like it-- when people had things of monetary value hanging in the air to send to people), I started backing up all of my entries for Diary-X over on Diaryland. I have a near-identical journal over there-- right back to March 29, 2001. I don't like Diaryland better. I hate the baby pink and blue color with yellow accent color scheme. But unlike DX, there really isn't the b.s. that is pulled here.

Maybe it's just because I'm dumb enough to go on the forums. I dunno.

In any case... then Arisia 2003 came around, and I went to a panel on online journaling. EVERYONE... and I mean EVERYONE over there had a livejournal. I met cool people. But they were all connecting via livejournal, and to really keep up with them, I'd have to also go over there. I hated the idea of the elitist must-have-code-to-join bullshit, but got around that with a short paid membership fee. And then, that became a third journal.

See where I'm going here? Yeah, I know. Blogwhore is appropriate here, idn't it?

Needless to say, my livejournal gets a hell of a lot more traffic and comments than DX or DL put together. I feel like I'm part of a community there. But at the same time, this journal on DX has been my diary "home" for nearly four years.

I guess I just need to think about this. But really, I can't take too much more of the born-again hypocrite Christian "I'll get knocked up before we get married" pony show.

I really can't.

And no, I'm not paying my membership fee in January.

coffee is of no use to me

Ever since the Red Sox beat the Yankees, I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping at night. I've been unusually "roamy" for lack of a better term. And I'm paying for it during the day. I'm surprised that I don't have keyboard-shaped bruises on my forehead by now.



I've been trying to blow off a lot of it as partially being wrapped up in Red Sox fever, and partially because all of a sudden it's really farking bright in my bedroom in the morning, thanks to the time change. But whatever it is, my body is just protesting in a huge way. Caffeine seems to no longer have any effect on me in the morning. By around two, I'm just dragging.



*sigh* I'm getting old, aren't I? It's that whole stereotype about older folks not sleeping as much. I'm getting that condition about 40 years too early.



Gah.



I'm letting myself go for one more week before I call the doctor about it. I'm also going to be monitoring and lessening (gradually) any caffeine intake in the evening. It's never been a problem before... but again, maybe age has finally caught up to that habit, and I need to find another evening beverage of choice.



* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *



I got absolutely no writing done last night for NaNo. Thankfully, even though I've had two of these nights so far in the month (yes, I realize it's day 5), the days padding them have been very productive 3,000 word days. So aside from yesterday, I'm right on track. I have the weekend to get caught up... and hopefully ahead.



I didn't plan on not writing last night, but as often happens when I open AIM, I get to talking with someone for hours, and do nothing but chat. It's odd how I can chat for HOURS on AIM, but try to rush off the phone with everyone. I just hate having that damned thing at my ear, I guess. I had a good chat with Ariestar and Myownwench last night covering a lot of different topics, including a fabulous rendition of an AOL community chat room. (have I mentioned how difficult it is to type improperly... on purpose?)



Anyway, I'm going over to their apartment tonight for some sorority alumni festivities. "Milk and cookies" will be served, to coin the phrase from my undergrad band days. Erich was going to come with me tomorrow, but now I'm not so sure-- he's battling a cold, and really should get some rest so he can celebrate Master Chiefmas properly on November 9th.



(Yes, my boyfriend is a geek and is taking vacation days for Halo 2.)



* ~ * ~ * ~ *



Tomorrow I have my first NaNo coffee chat. Somehow my brain mixed up my times-- and what I thought was a noon start is actually a noon ending. It starts at 10 a.m. I'll have to behave myself a bit this evening so I can get up for it. (and actually write tomorrow, since tonight's undoubtedly a wash)



For what it's worth-- I've already decided that I won't ML next year. Any move I'm making to put things together have been met with a "why can't you do something in MY area! Why do I have to go THERE?" (do they realize that I'll be driving all over the lower half of Massachusetts this month during the weekends to meet with THEM?!?) Dealing with the new site and its horrid layout is bad enough, but I just don't have patience for the attitudes this year. Sorry... when I asked for contributions on recommended spots, I didn't HEAR from you. I heard from others, and made recommendations based on those who expressed interest.



These people forget that we're actually NaNo participants ourselves... and that we're writing novels, too, and that we're being ML's because we love and support the project. And no, I'm not getting paid for being an ML, folks... I do this because I enjoy writing and enjoy the challenge.



So if you're in NaNo, please be kind to your ML's.



But yeah-- next year, I shall be doing my writing sans meetup obligations. It's too much of a headache to deal with.



Off to work... gotta get a lot of stupid stuff done, hopefully get an hour of writing in over lunch over at $tarbuck$, and then back to work...

Well, isn't that speh-shal

First: I'm more level-headed than I was at this point yesterday morning.

Second: The two people (one troll, one online friend) who basically told me to fuck off.... I'm sorry you don't recognize a kneejerk rant when you see it. We all have them. Consider what I've been praying for for the past four years to happen and what I've been activing working to change. You'd have a kneejerk reaction, too, when all of your time and energy didn't result in what you wanted to happen.

Mind you-- that doesn't translate to "wasted." The time was most definitely not wasted. To say what would be to ignore and counteract every passion I've had about political subjects since the year 2000.

Third: To the one person who demanded that I essentially not exist in their world-- I've respected your wishes. I disagree, and hope that when you calm down, you'll change your mind. But that's your mind to change. *shrug* I hope you eventually realize that, but that's something you have to do. Until then, I've done as a friend would do-- and respected your wishes.


Contrary to what many people think about Kerry supporters. I voted FOR Kerry. The disagreements with Bush led me to seek out another candidate. That was the catalyst to look elsewhere. In Kerry's platform, I found what I considered a reasonable amount of ideals that I agreed with. And the ones that I didn't agree with were either strongly felt, or in my mind not thinks that I considered cons that outweighed the pros for him. I liked that there would be a representative both of the upper class (Kerry) and someone who came from the lower class and worked his way up (Edwards). We had four options here in Massachusetts for president. I didn't vote against Bush. I voted FOR Kerry.

He lost. It happens. Someone has to in any vote. And my kneejerk reaction was to be extremely upset, intensified by early morning exhaustion after staying up past midnight the night before, watching the news and hoping and praying...

It didn't go the way I wanted it to. *shrug* I vented. I move on.

I'm here. I'm not moving to Canada or Australia, or whatever country would take my sorry ass. I survived the past four years of Bush's presidency. The next four years will be ones that will be frustrating. But as is often said-- if you don't do anything, you can't bitch. So I will work for what I believe in and do my part to help push liberal ideals forward because it's what I personally feel is right to do.

I'm a woman, a Pagan, and extremely pro-choice (for obvious reasons). I have gay relatives, gay friends, and parents of friends who are gay. I live in the great state of Massachusetts which has recongized equal marriage rights for everyone. I am an adoptee with divorced parents. I over-criticize myself to do the right thing all the time. I donate to the police charity fund. I donate to Children International, where I sponsor a girl in the Dominican Republic and a girl in India. And I donate platelets, which save peoples lives.

I will continue to fight for what I believe in and try to make this world a better place.

If that bursts your bubble and rubs you the wrong way, hey... I respect that. But that doesn't mean I'm going to change for you. I have friends and relatives who are extremely conservative, carry guns, think abortion should be illegal, and perhaps even think privately that I'm a sorry human being for the faith that I hold. As long as they don't publically kick me specifically, for having different beliefs than them, we're all cool. NO ONE believes in the exact thing another person does. We're not clones.

For those who think I'm demon scum and should go to hell for my beliefs... I'm bringing the throw pillows to decorate the hell couch and my stash of drinks for the inevitable fantastic party. I'll have a lot of company from wonderful, hardworking, lifeloving people of all creeds, religions, and nationalities.

Off to work and face the day. Because it's a beautiful bright one out there-- and I'm going to go out there with my eyes looking dead ahead.

Wake me up when this nightmare ends...

Four more years of the dictator

Four more years of the disgusting, self-righteous swagger

Four more years of arrogance, destroying any remaining respect we have around the world

Four more years of thinly-veiled theocracy

To the good ol' boys and rednecks of this nation - fuck off.

To the educated folks who voted for Bush - shame on you.


And I"m counting on both a draft and another country invaded within two years.


I'm just terrified and sick for this nation.

The counter is back

And I've started writing.

This year I'm not going to be updating my NaNo journal-- I couldn't make it work for two years. I might reflect on it later after NaNo is done, but for the time being I just am going to concentrate on actually doing the writing and trying to be a good ML.

Plus, I am hoping this year to write something that I can actually work with and actually try to get published. Which means I can't post it online anyway.

However, if anyone really wants to read the completely messy, disorganized rough draft at the end of November, just drop a line and I'll be happy to send it to you-- provided that you promise to give some suggestions for improvement (either tightening or expanding on scenes).

And for concept-- I have returned to my main character from 2002 NaNo (Raven). Last year she kept thumping my head in November. Apparently she has a story to tell me. So this year I'm just going to let her talk and see how the words flow.

Past archives

I'm in the process of bringing over my journal from its older home-- but in the meantime, if you'd like to read my older entries, please go to my prior journal at measi.diary-x.