The Soundtrack of My Life

I stole this from Teddy over at The Gideonse Bible after my first (and probably last) foray into digital music. It's the soundtrack to the movie of your life. It was the only consolation to the sad, sorry realization that my free 14 day trial on Rhapsody did not allow me to actually download music...that I would have to pay for. Once my trial is up, all my vast music library is gone. You can see I am not techno savvy after all.

So, before my one and only digital music library disappears, here is the soundtrack of my life.

Here's how you do it:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool...
7. When you're finished tag some other people to do it!

Opening Credits: "Freakshow," Ani DiFranco

I suppose there could not be a more appropriate opening song than this....welcome to the freakshow! I love Ani...her honesty, rage and edge. What a good song to begin my story of radical revolution!

"life in the circus ain't easy
but the folks on the outside don't know
the tent goes up and the tent comes down
and all that they see is the show
and the ladies on the horses look so pretty
and the lions are looking real mad
and some of the clowns are happy
and some of the clowns are sad

but underneath
there's another expression
that the makeup isn't making
life under the big top
it's about freedom
it's about faking
there's an art to the laughter
there's a science
and there's alot of love
and compliance

welcome to the freakshow
here we go..."

Waking Up: "Murder By Numbers," The Police

Okay...so, this could be a bad omen...perhaps revolution takes the form of psychopathic, homicidal rage in this movie...gee, I hope not, but I could definitely imagine it happening. Perhaps this is an ode to Heathers. I suppose it could have been worse...Roxanne might have made an interesting waking song.

Once that you've decided on a killing
First you make a stone of your heart
And if you find that your hands are still willing
Then you can turn a murder into art

First Day of School: "Shed a Little Light," James Taylor

My conscientization began at an early age...

"Oh, let us turn our thoughts today
To martin luther king
And recognize that there are ties between us
All men and women
Living on the earth
Ties of hope and love
Sister and brotherhood"

Falling in Love: "I Still Believe in My Friends," The Nields

"I never wanted to be much of a martyr
Don't worry baby it can't get any harder,
Then it gets harder
And I can't carry you anymore
What doesn't kill you will make you stronger
I'm not dead yet so I must be stronger
Then it gets longer
Counting all the moments I can sit alone with you in the dark."

A depressing sort of love song...It gets better and more hopeful eventually. Perhaps this is a scene of falling in love while in the midst of high school angst with my best friend to whom I had been previously blind to our fated love connection. See any John Hughes film for examples. The Nields were another college love that got lost in the stacks until now.

First Song: "A Home" by the Dixie Chicks

Foreshadowing of the melancholic unlucky in love theme that will pervade this film...I was disappointed that this was the Chicks song that came instead of "Not Ready to Make Nice" which I think makes a very good theme song for my life!

"Not a night goes by
I don't dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home"

Breaking Up: "I Feel the Blues Movin' In," Dolly Parton, Emmy Lou Harris, Linda Ronstadt

Shuffle and fate do make a good movie...a little bluegrass blues about cheating, lying, no-good partners. Gotta love Dolly!

"The last letter that you wrote was on a blue piece of paper
That old feelin's back the clouds are moving in
The beginning of the end is near I feel your love has faded
Into darkness it seems I have no friend I feel the blues movin' in"

Prom: "Out In the Cold," Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Well, it is a good dancing tune...though the lyrics suggest a horrible prom experience. I suppose this would not be so far off the truth remembering my own prom memories. I actually associate Tom Petty with road trips. It is really quite good driving music.

"I'm out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
There's nowhere to go (out in the cold)
I'm out in the cold (out in the cold)"

Driving: "Don't Take Your Guns to Town," Charlie Robinson, cover of Johnny Cash.

Back to the murderous, rebellious rage first foreshadowed in my waking up at the beginning of the film. Obviously, this song is played as I am driving toward some climactic confrontation scene. The question is, do I heed the song or enact the sad, sorry tragedy of little ole Bill?

"Filled with rage then
Billy Joe reached for his gun to draw
But the stranger drew his gun and fired
Before he even saw
As Billy Joe fell to the floor"

Flashback: "Leeds," Indigo Girls.

A very reflective, melancholy memory of pain and loss surfaces...

"It's dark at four PM in Leeds the steeples pierce the skylight till the last of it bleeds
The absent sound of another day as it recedes into the shadows until it's nothing
Fax papers slipped under the hotel room door like food for the prisoner or the prospect to the whore. Well fed and halfway drunk I ache myself for more until I'm shadows of myself until I'm nothing"

Starting a New Relationship: "Big Beautiful Spoon," Poi Dog Pondering.

Just perfect! A sweet song of cuddly new love...particularly apt since I love to spoon! In fact, Josh and I spooned long before we ever dated. I love Poi Dog Pondering...it's one of those bands I listened to endlessly in college, only to be resurrected through my short lived foray into my online unlimited music library.

"Wrap around me and curl, you big beautiful spoon
The thought of your touch and smell just makes me swoon
When you lay me down, my heart is still as a pond
Together like two spoons until dawn."

Wedding: "Mountain Angel," Dolly Parton

Well, it looks like this marriage won't last long....

"She gave up everything for him that mattered in her life
All the others that had loved her and she vowed to be his wife
She dreamed of bearing children in an ivy-covered house
The mountain angel's sunshine turned to clouds
The wicked handsome stranger left the way he came
Broke her heart and broke her mind
She never was the same
They say he was the devil
That had come to steal her soul
She never loved another it was told"

Birth of Child: "Desperate Housewives Theme," Danny Elfman.

I am not sure how this song made it into my library. I don't even watch the show...though it is quite fitting.

Final Battle: "Woh, Don' You Know," James Taylor.

Despite all the early murderous musings, there is in fact no final confrontation...rather I just pack my bags and head off into the sunset.

"Listen here now, don't you come 'round
Talkin' bout over yonder
Bound to wake up the walkin' man in me
And I'm bound to wanderin'"

Death Scene: "Watershed," Indigo Girls.

Can't you just see me crossing over to the other side as this tune plays in the background? This is, in fact, one of my all-time favorite Girls tunes, coming in second only to Closer to Fine.

"Thought I knew my mind
Like the back of my hand
The gold and the rainbow
But nothing panned out as I planned
And they say only milk and honeys
Gonna make your soul satisfied
Well I better learn how to swim
Cause the crossing is chilly and wide"

Funeral Song: "One Big Love," Patti Griffin

A fitting goodbye ritual...

"I guess Im taking my chances
Giving up the ring throwing in the gloves
I guess Im taking my chances
Trading in my things for a couple wings on a
Little white dove"

End Credits: "All I Wanna Do," Sheryl Crow

A good, upbeat ending to what was a sad, depressing, yet committed life. After that summary, I hope this is not a reflection of life to come.

"All I wanna do is have some fun
I got a feeling I'm not the only one
All I wanna do is have some fun
I got a feeling I'm not the only one"

Remember the Communist Threat

Remember the Communist threat over at The Asphalt Playground...

Mission Accomplished

For nearly a year now I have been on a less than noble mission to obtain the ALIAS tv theme song as my ringtone. It began last spring as the show approached the end of it's five year run. I needed something to take with me, something to hold on to the magic that was Sydney and company. I also thought it would be wicked cool (as they say in MA) and would in some small way allow me to live in to my own fantasies of traveling the globe in sexy costumes while simultaneously kicking ass on the "bad guys" of the world. I could even play it to myself when I engaged in spy missions of my own...my friend Julie and I have some very interesting ideas for creating change in our denomination.

I became obsessed.

I spent hours on the Internet searching and searching, pouring over ALIAS fan chat sites (many of whom were also frustrated at their own inability to secure the theme for themselves). Twice I was so close I could taste it, but both times it turned out that either my carrier or phone were not compatible with the supplier's site.

For a while I gave up...depressed and defeated I settled for sub-optimal ringtones such as "VooDoo Woman" and the theme song from Charlie's Angels. Then, in a renewed wave of self-pity and dissertation desperation I began my search once again. I went to the ABC web store convinced they may have updated the site and added new phone models...but they had not.

In the past I had rejected the notion of needlessly buying a new phone in order to get the ringtone, but now, well, now things were different. I just had to have that ring tone. The only problem was that the phones ABC listed as compatible were all old models. I would have to search craigslist for used phones. And so I did. Miraculously, I found a slightly used Samsung e715, abandoned by its previous teenage owner for lack of a cool quotient (though she told her father it was b/c she could not dial long distance on that model....I contemplated telling him it was merely an adolescent ruse to get a cooler model, but didn't want to risk losing my one and only chance at ringtone happiness).

Having driven an hour and a half to get pick up the phone, I was ecstatic to finally have it in my hands. I immediately switched cards and put the new phone to my ear, feeling what it would be like to now have the phone of my dreams. I admit, it almost felt like I was cheating on a beloved, dear friend. My old, ALIAS-less cell phone lay on the car seat discarded. While the new phone was compatible with the ringtone, its buttons seemed cold and hard and it felt out of place in my palm. Nevertheless, there was no turning back now.

Racing home I went to the ABC site, punched in the code and waited for my ringtone to appear...I waited and waited and waited. Nothing. I then sent a text message begging for the tune and received the fateful, sad message: "ACCESS DENIED." I was crushed. This could not be. The website said my new/old e715 would be compatible. It had to work.

I waited days in sad hopelessness, but could not give up. I went to the T-Mobile store and embarrassed myself with the young salesperson who said with disdain, "Ma'am, I'm sorry. I don't know what this abc site is you're talking about." She suggested I let the card stay in my new phone for several hours and then try again.

I went home filled with hope...it would work this time. I waited the requisite 2 hours, went to the website and discovered that finally after over a year they had upgraded the website and all phones were now compatible. I felt cheated and horrible. I bought this crappy old phone for nothing??? I went ahead and sent it to the new phone anyway. Again, I waited and waited and waited. Nothing. Maybe, this old model is no longer compatible. So, I sent it to Josh's phone (same model as my original beloved). It worked! All I had to do was change the cards back and wait....victory was at hand.

But two days later, I waited and waited and waited and NOTHING. For some mysterious reason the web message could not get through to my phone, no matter how many times I tried.

God hated me.

But then, just when I almost succumbed to defeat I had the bright idea of switching cards with Josh and sending the ringtone to old beloved phone via his phone number. Josh was sure this would not work...but it did!! I actually did a little dance of joy around the house after hearing it ring for the first time!

Mission accomplished.

So if you want to make me happy, call me on my cell and imagine me dancing in to the tune of ALIAS.

PS I may not answer quickly since I now so enjoy my ringtone!

Refreshed

I just returned from another Wild Women's week at Tenants Harbor. Earlier this fall I went for just a day with a few of the women in our group, but last week all (but one) of us gathered for four days of rest, relaxation and ritual.

It was fabulous!

Being at Tenants Harbor is always a liminal experience. It is as if for those few days we go outside of time and space to create an oasis of safety, love, trust and nourishment. On the margins of society, neither here nor there, we create space through ritual and sharing for our own individual and communal transformation. This time we framed our time there with two rituals. The opening ritual crafted a safe circle "on the margins of patriarchy" in which we could exist for the week, while the closing ritual banished all the "unwanted guests" of pain and struggle that had been conjured up and released during our time together. Fear, guilt, anxiety, certain-people-left-unnamed (at least for the purposes of public sharing), expectations and burdens were all cast out leaving us refreshed and able to engage the world once again.

I've spent most of my academic career studying feminist theology, often times in a very abstract and intellectual way. Yet this group allows me to truly embody this theory. Daly's gyn-rgy, Morton's hearing to speech, Russell's open table ecclesiology and Ruether's woman church become not just ideas but reality. Part of the power we derive from these rituals comes from a deep sense of trust between members of this group. It is not just a matter of acting out or performing the theory, but rather allowing it to be birthed from within a circle of trust and assurance...a circle that we have built over the past eleven years of gathering together by sharing with one another our deepest wounds and greatest joys.

Sucker

It did not take long for Zoe to learn that I am indeed a sucker for dogs!

My dogs discovered this fact long ago which makes it nearly impossible for me to get work done while at home. If they aren't jumping in my lap for attention or lapping at their food bowls for more, they are incessantly nudging and prodding me to let them out...every 10 %$#!@ minutes.

To escape this canine insanity I have taken to working anywhere but home...in coffee shops , cafes, libraries and now this week at a friends' apartment. I agreed to walk their dog, Zoe, three times a day in exchange for a little peace and quiet. Zoe is a retired greyhound and in general very low key. The first two days I was here I practically had to beg her to go out with me. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Life was good. Perhaps we should have adopted greyhounds instead of energetic mutts, I mused.

However, today Zoe discovered my weakness.

The fact of the matter is, like it or not, I have been extremely well-trained by my own dogs to respond immediately when pooches pester me to go out. Always slightly fearful a denial of their request will lead to an unfortunate and smelly accident, I leap to my feet when prompted. This Zoe figured out. Within two hours, she had me on four walks. My only respite was to take her to the park in hopes of wearing her out.

And so here we are, back at home, an exhausted pooch panting on her bed and her well-trained sucker of a playmate waiting for her next request.

53 Pages and Counting...

Well, I am indeed "writing in earnest." To date I have 53 usable pages...15 on an introductory chapter outlining my work, 12 on the conflict in the UMC over membership and sexuality, and 26 on the dual ecclesiological influences on the ecclesial praxis of John Wesley.

The good news is that I am 1/6 of the way finished in terms of my original page goals. The bad news is that I have not even started on the chapters I intended to write. The bulk of what I have written was an afterthought to merely set up my analysis. I still have 5 chapters on Wesley, three chapters on homos in the UMC, and at least two chapters of analysis.

I will finish my dissertation. I will finish my dissertation. I will finish my dissertation.

NOTE: Make that 57...

NOTE: Make that 65...too bad none of it is really usable...

One More Thing the Christian Right Has Ruined For Me

I have a confession...I love the song, Baby Got Back, by Sir Mixalot. It began as part of a college rebellion that hoped to embrace altnertaive body image for women (despite the obvious sexism and misogyny embedded in the song)...

So Cosmo says you're fat
Well I ain't down with that!
'Cause your waist is small and your curves are kickin'
And I'm thinkin' bout stickin'
To the beanpole dames in the magazines:
You ain't it, Miss Thing!
Give me a sista, I can't resist her
Red beans and rice didn't miss her"

We loved the song so much it became part of the sacred trinity of dance music we would listen to before going partying on campus (for those of you dying to know, the other two were Like a Prayer and The Sign). Lest you think it was a mere college infatuation, you should know I also taught this song to my English students in Nicaragua (they wanted to know a rap song and it's all I knew) and even had it sung to me at my wedding (thank you, Elizabeth and Tushi)!

Needless to say, the song holds great meaning and memory for me...so, you must imagine my horror when I found this online:

The Wages of Racism

Here is another example of the way racism works to divide us all.

__________________

NOTE: There has been an update on this ruling...Idle Rambling Thoughts posted this today.

TAHLEQUAH, Okla. - In a split ruling, the Cherokee Nation's highest court today reversed a prior decision regarding the citizenship of Freedmen. The court ruled unconstitutional the Cherokee Nation's law requiring citizens to trace their ancestry to a person with either Cherokee, Shawnee or Delaware blood. The ruling means that the Cherokee Nation's citizenship roll is now open to the descendants of Freedmen who were included in the Dawes Rolls of the Five Civilized Tribes.

The full ruling from the Cherokee Nation Judicial Appeals Tribunal can be found on the Cherokee Nation's Web site, www.cherokee.org

I thought Antonio Banderas settled this one...

Wasn't this a (very bad) movie?

While it goes without saying that this theory will generate its own whirlwind of controversy, I have to wonder what is so bad about the possibility of a resurrection that was not bodily? Although I doubt the ability to conclusively prove that this particular site is the tomb of THE "Jesus of Nazareth," the possibility of its existence is not at all threatening to my faith.

I think only a very shallow faith and reading of the Christian tradition makes it's truth claims absolutely dependent on a literal interpretation and understanding of resurrection.

The Christian faith is about much more than literal facts. It is about a transcendent message that embodies a truth not dependent on historical fact. Resurrection can be true regardless of what happened to Jesus' body. It is the claim that death is not the end, that love and life can and do triumph despite the brokenness of the world in which we live. We don't need the evidence of an empty tomb to witness to this truth in our lives. We testify to the power of resurrection as it bubbles up through the cracks of despair each and every day.

Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I forget why it is I do what I do. Yet, last night as I travelled back to my alma mater for a panel discussion of queer Christians sponsored by the Intervarsity Fellowship, I was reminded exactly why.

When I was at Williams I joined the Intervarsity Williams Christian Fellowship thinking it would be an extension of my own United Methodist Youth Fellowship. It did not take long to learn that while our high school fellowship was open and welcoming of all people, even non-Christians, this group was not. In fact, I spent most large group meetings going rounds with my nemesis, Mr. P, the founder and chief writer for the campus' neo-con paper that spewed hate on a regular basis. We would argue about everything from global warming to poverty to immigration...and of course, homosexuality.

He, as well as the entire leadership of the fellowship, made it clear to me that homosexuality was wrong and sinful. While I could "love" my friends (I'm not sure what type of love that would be), I was called to tell them to repent, turn straight and give their lives to Jesus. When I refused to comply with their advice I became the target of guerrilla prayer vigils where members of the fellowship would randomly turn up at my dorm room to "pray over me" asking God to help me see "Him" more clearly, to learn to follow "His" ways and respect "His laws." While it was done with the utmost sincerity, for they did fear for my eternal damnation, it was (as you might have guessed) never pleasant.

But I was and continue to be stubborn. They were not going to proclaim in the name of all Christians that homosexuality was a sin. It was and is not. I was damned if they were going to present their view as the one and only right view on the matter. I talked to my local pastor and asked him to come to the fellowship to explain why we were a Reconciling Church (open and affirming of GLBT persons) and why homosexuality was not a sin. I proceeded to invite all my queer friends as well so that we took over the fellowship that evening.

The problem was that no matter what my pastor said, no matter what my queer friends testified to about their own lives, no matter how much I protested, it fell on dead ears. If anyone in the fellowship had not already closed their minds to this notion of radical inclusivity and love, they were shut forever when the hell-fire-and-brimstone baptist preacher convinced them of this in his tirade against the "ungodly" and "sub-optimal lifestyle" of homosexuals that send them straight to hell. Somehow, in my mind, I imagined that at the end of the night the fellowship people would be the ones repenting for their sin of hatred and discrimination. After all, how could they continue to believe such bunk? Yet, it was not to be. After the comment-turned-sermon of the baptist fear monger, my queer friends left in disgust and anger, while the purported Christians sang a few more rounds of praise hymns.

It was not a good experience. Over the years as I would receive appeal letters as an almuna of the fellowship asking for money, I would always send back a note saying that until they opened the fellowship to GLBT Christians and affirmed that homosexuality is a good gift from God, I would never give them a penny. In over 10 years, no one ever responded to my missives.

So, you must imagine my surprise when I received an email from two of the students on the leadership team for the fellowship asking me and several members of CWM to come and address the fellowship on what it means to be queer and Christian. I have to admit I was quite hesitant...could this really be true? The young women had been referred to me by their local United Methodist pastor (Yeah for Methodism!). After talking via email, phone and meeting, it seemed that they actually did want to present an alternative to the turn-or-burn reparative therapy crap that is spoon fed to the fellowship through the national Intervarsity office.

Two parishioners and I drove out during a fierce winter storm over Florida mountain to be there in time for the evening service. After the two of them told their stories, I told the story of CWM; who we were, how we came to be and the stories of transformation (the good kind, not the homo-no-mo kind) that happened through our ministry. I expected a lot of resistance to our testimonies. I was ready for the Bible questions or the tales of happy ex-gays. I was ready for students to challenge us and take us to task for our "anti-Christian" views...but no one did.

Okay, that is not exactly true...no student did. A new hell-fire-and-brimstone-crazy baptist preacher (and I do mean crazy...the man looked insane; bushy beard and beady eyes insane) quoted Romans to me (to which I responded with a systematic deconstruction of the 7 clobber verses and a proclamation that the Bible never says homosexuality is sin. Thanks for the easy pitch, man.) and the "unofficial faculty advisor" told me no Christian had ever said they actually "hated" gay people (to which I answered, "No, they don't have to. Actions speak louder than words.")

The students by and large were curious about this possibility of an inclusive and affirming Christian faith. Most, both queer and straight alike, had never heard anyone say to them that homosexuality is not a sin. Most of them did not even know that there were churches that welcomed and affirmed queer folk. Most of them had no idea that someone could be Christian and queer. I was shocked by the response. How could they not have known? I guess I thought that Williams kids are smart. Of course they would have heard this all before, but they had not.

Rather than one of judgement and damnation, these students' response was one of care, concern and compassion. They asked how they could help their friends who struggle with their sexuality and spirituality, they wanted to know how to start a community like CWM on their campus, they wanted to know if other faith traditions were welcoming and how could they create space to help people understand that Christianity and homosexuality are indeed compatible. We stayed until midnight talking to students who were in the midst of wrestling with this issue, not just on campus but in their own lives. I was deeply moved by both their palpable pain and their indomitable hope. Perhaps the fellowship could change after all.

This is why I do what I do.

New Favorite Idol

So, it is true...you cannot judge a book by its cover. My early idol assessments based on their profiles were crushed last night as I discovered my new favorite idol...Lakisha Jones.



I love Lakisha! Atta Girl!

And, yes, I was a Fantasia fan too. Josh says my preferences reveal my view of Idol as a potential battleground for class warfare (e.g. my support for Antonella to piss off her privileged best friend who boasted about her professional training in their audition together.)

NOTE: Besides a new fascination with reality TV, my "101 Ways to Do Nothing" day has yielded other fruits...new boots from L.L. Bean, a full refrigerator, an empty(ish) freezer and the realization we cannot buy a new car or house.

Overheard at True Grounds...

"What got me hooked in the biz was that men actually pay me to berate and hit them. It's the easiest $150 an hour I've ever made. Wanna look at the ads on craigslist with me?"

True Grounds

Mr. Crepe is out. True Grounds is in.

After a really bad day at Mr. Crepe this week, I knew I needed to look elsewhere for a study haven. Besides the inaccessible internet connection, pricey food, and austere atmosphere, the table limit at Mr. Crepe was making me too anxious to write. Trying to figure out at every moment if I needed to leave so another customer could have my seat was wearing.

Yesterday I finally tried True Grounds. Tons of people in the neighborhood have raved about it...good coffee, nice vibe, dog friendly, etc. etc. But it seemed so far...(this is the part where I throw myself a pity party).

Turns out it is probably faster than getting to Mr. Crepe, has good coffee, free, reliable internet, yummy (and cheap) soups, folk music (no more "hip," cutting-edge dance music a la Mr. Crepe), comfy, warm spaces and a way chill staff who could care less how long you stay.

Yeah!

Check Out The Asphalt Playground

Mason Dixon over at The Asphalt Playground has a very amusing video up for all you who have trouble making sense of Christian theology. Mr. Deity answers all your questions.

Dates Gone Bad

Goat and Chicken's post on music brought me back to my senior year prom with its inclusion of our theme song, "Save the Best for Last" by Vanessa Williams. As I commented distant memories of dates gone horribly wrong surfaced and a new post topic emerged (if you have not noticed my blog continues to deteriorate as I lose myself in research)...Dates Gone Bad!

So, here in no particular order are just a few of my bad dates revisited...

• Hijacked! - Our cheerleading squad was no "Bring It On," but we did at times pretend to want to be better than we were. So, it was no surprise when one of the guys on the squad invited me to a local college basketball game to "watch the cheerleaders." Supposedly we were going to meet up with others at the game and take notes on the Musketeers' moves. I should have known it would be a rough night when he showed up at my house with an enormous, elaborately wrapped gift for me...a framed poster of Clark Gable from Gone With the Wind (to his credit, one of my favorite movies at the time). He then suggested we grab something to eat before the game. Disregarding my suggestion for quick take out from Izzy's or Skyline, he took me to a very sad, shabby Chinese restaurant where he made us sit in an all-too-cozy booth and insisted on paying. Things were getting worse. When we arrived at the game nobody else was there to meet us. Surprise. Surprise. I had been duped. As if I was not uncomfortable enough already, he decided to make a declaration of his love for me right then and there...at which point I could say nothing more than, "Take me home. Now!"
• Save the Best for Last - My senior prom was well, less than the best, to say the least. Being on one of the many break-up hiatuses from my high school boyfriend, I ended up being set up for prom with my best friend's boyfriend's friend from school. He was a lovely person. Very nice, neat, polite and courteous...so much so he drove me crazy. What I found most annoying was his insane insistence on opening every single door for me even if it meant sprinting ahead of me so he could reach the entry first. No matter what I did he refused to leave me alone. Unable to convince him it was time for him to go home, I resorted to hiding out in the vastness of our friend's home. Dodging from room to room, I would tell my friends to misdirect him so I could have some space (which also meant reconciling with my boyfriend in the bushes). While I managed to evade his presence for most of the night, I did not get away scott free. At the end of the evening, just as I thought the nightmare was finally over, he leaned in for the inevitable good night kiss attempt. I tried to be kind, but I just couldn't do it. I knew it would be horribly embarassing for him, but no matter how hard I tried to bear it, I could not. Despite all our friends watching, I denied him by grabbing his hands and pushing him away. "Thanks for a good night. Good luck with everything."
  
• Excuse me? In grad school I met a new student who had just moved to the area where I lived at the time. He seemed lonely and in need of a friend and so I offered to show him around. In hindsight, I should have realized that this would turn into a date, but at the time I just thought I was being nice. It became clear early on from his words and attempted groping that in fact this was a date. After an all-too intimate dinner, we headed to the movies. As we were waiting for the film to begin he said, "You know, I'm really glad you went out with me. Living with my wife and kids is hard and I need to have some fun once and a while." Um, excuse me? Wife and kids? As I expressed my surprise at his marital status and asked him what he thought we were doing together he said, "Well, this is a date, right? I thought you would be cool with it. You look like the type of woman that would date a married man." Lovely. And with that I reverted to my high school habit and said, "Take me home. Now."
  

God, I'm glad I'm married.

What are your memories of dates gone bad?

101 Ways to Do Nothing

Coming home this morning too sad and sorry for myself to actually read the papers that were being presented in Nashville, I set about do nothing. ..which I realize I am very good at, particularly when I feel overwhelmed by my research. (Have I mentioned I feel overwhelmed by my research? I have 100s of pages of notes and yet am at an utter loss with where to begin.)

Instead of researching or writing, this is what I did:

1. Cleaned the kitchen
2. Made Josh breakfast
3. Cleaned my desk
4. Cluttered my now clean desk
   
5. Organized my board notes from October to date
6. Printed off a ream of paper's worth of documents by Wesley since the %^#%@* electronic version I have SUCKS
7. Punched holes in said ream using a very outdated, rusty and non-compliant three-hole punch
8. Scattered dots of paper throughout the house in frustration, having to open and close the %$#^ hole punch every time I used it
9. Left said dots as evidence of my hard work for when Josh comes home
10. Obsessively read (several times over) every blog linked to mine
11. Was inspired by Ted's post on Tom Lowe to research each of the 24 semi-finalists left on American Idol [With nothing more than their pics and trite answers to tired get-to-know-you facts, I'm rooting for Chris (he's from Greenville and his answers did not bore me), Antonella (if only to piss off her annoying best friend who did not make the finals), and Gina (cool hair).]
    
12. Tried to buy a used dishwasher on Craigslist...but I couldn't find out the exact dimensions, get permission from the trustees, nor actually get to the woman's place to see it because my car is stuck in the ice and she lives off the T line
13. Tried to buy groceries through Peapod because my car is stuck in the ice (do you see a pattern emerging?) and I don't want to schlep groceries all the way from the square while skating on the sheet of ice that has covered the city. They would not deliver until tomorrow...a fact conveniently left out until I had spent 45 minutes shopping, carefully compiling my cart. Too late for tonight's dinner.
14. Thawed a "mystery meal" for dinner tonight. It is a tupperware of frozen red stuff. We never remember to label our frozen foods so it always a surprise. Originally I thought it was homemade chili, but it tastes more like a pasta sauce of sorts.
15. Thawed chicken in case the mystery meal is not edible
    
16. Discovered that although working at the kitchen table is the most pleasant work space, it drives the dogs insane since they think I am either about to give them a T-R-E-A-T or let them go O-U-T...both of which I finally caved and did since it was better than actually doing my work
17. Browsed available real estate and station wagons for sale in the area, lusting after each prospect with the knowledge that we are not buying either a car or a house for many, many, many years
18. Scavenged the kitchen for lunch morsels to eat. I finally settled on the end of the jalapeno jack cheese, the broken dregs of the salt-n-pepper potato chips and Ritz crackers (left over from the Southern Dinner we hosted). yum.
19. Browsed LL Bean for new boots since I am stuck in the house and can't leave without risking life and limb. Lest you think I am exaggerating (particularly those of you out and about today in Boston), you should know that just one night in this weather was enough to induce a panic attack of sheer terror in me. Walking to the T for our Valentine's date at OM in Harvard Square was so harrowing it made me cry. Literally. For the five blocks to the T I sobbed. The wind broke my umbrella. My hair was wet and frizzy. The puddles sopped my pants. And, leading to my hunt for new boots, I slid the whole way there in thoroughly inappropriate (yet fashionable) black high heeled boots.
20. Settled the details on a wedding gig for this summer. This is how pastors make ends meet
    
21. Checked for the mail at least five times...make that six
    
22. Made tea
23. Contemplated sweeping the floors
    
24. Ate more chocolate than I should have
    
25. Wrote a post about nothing.

NOTE: Mystery meal solved...not chili, not pasta sauce, but a rather bland tomato soup I made this summer. We ate out.

Sigh

After getting up at 3 AM, arriving at the airport at 4:30 AM, and waiting in line for 2 1/2 hours I am back home...grounded and unable to get to my meeting in Nashville in time. My flight was canceled not because of bad weather, but because of overbooking and delayed flights from yesterday.

I am quite disappointed to say the least.

Caffeine High

Note to Self: After abstaining from caffeine for a month, do not try eight cups of coffee in less than 3 hours...even if it helps you meet imminent deadlines.

After sucking down more cups of coffee than is recommended even for the most avid drinker, I found myself shaking (literally) and wondered what in the world was going on. Hmmm...maybe a caffeine buzz was not the best thing to help me finish everything before heading to Nashville tomorrow for a church consultation.

I am leaving at the god-awful hour of 5:30 AM to make it to the 9 AM meeting of the committee on eccleisology and membership for the United Methodist Church. My dissertation focuses on just this issue and being there will be extremely helpful as I research and write. Now, after the caffeine buzz pushes me through my deadlines, all I have to worry about is the weather. We are in the middle of a Nor'Easter here in Boston...let's hope my plane leaves on time tomorrow.

Hallelujah for Haggard

Well, hallelujah and praise be, ole Teddy's gone straight! That's right, after just THREE WEEKS of reparative therapy (i.e. not Jesus Camp, but True Directions Camp) , Ted Haggard announced that he was "completely heterosexual."

While skeptics both gay and "ex-gay" have raised concerns about such a quick conversion to the straight and narrow path after three (known) years of an affair with a male prostitute, Haggard's team of spiritual directors is adamant that the change is complete. When pressed with questions about how a process that even most hard-core homo-no-mos admit takes at least three to five years, Teddy's team explained what they really meant by "completely heterosexual." The quotation marks around this term are certainly appropriate, since in no way do they actually mean that Teddy is no longer gay, rather, they simply mean that his "choice is to be married to his wife and love her and be married to her for the rest of his life." Well, thank God he's not getting a divorce too!

Although many at his home mega-church had their hopes up that he would return to the beloved flock, news reports that he and his family will move to the midwest where he and his wife will both pursue masters degrees in psychology. They should make a lovely couples counseling team, don't you think?

(Trust me, it's all true. I can't make this stuff up!)

Overheard at Panera...

Today as I set about finishing the very long and detailed account of Mr. John Wesley's affair with the Church of England, I could not help but overhear the most bizarre series of conversations...and I have heard my fair share.

As someone who is only disciplined enough by the panopticon of public cafes to actually sit down and work, I often am privy to many a lunchtime conversation. Most have something to do with errant children ("sit down! be quiet! come back here!"), boring business details ("sales are up this quarter...blah, blah, blah...), misbehaving husbands (and I do mean husbands...my God the number of women who frequent Panera is amazing!), teen angst (particularly of the "he likes me, he likes me not" variety) and/or nutritional nitpicking ("this sandwich is soooooo fattening, but it is sooo delicious").

Today's conversation defied these common topics. At first I thought it was merely another boring business deal being done via cell...appointments were being arranged, times assigned, directions given. But then this part of the conversation caught my attention...

"Do you have a suit?"

Pause

"Well, you should dress nice. You want to look clean." (Like the "clean" of Obama?)

Pause

"I mean you really want to impress him. He is in charge of the entire East Coast. When you meet him, make sure you look him directly in the eyes. Don't lose his gaze because this tells him you aren't paying attention. If you look him directly in the eyes he knows you are serious. Really. Whatever you do, look him in the eyes." (What the hell would happen if you didn't?)

Pause

"Now if you are not serious, you need to tell me. I can't put myself out on the line for you and attach my name to your name if you are not going to show up. Your actions reflect my actions. I am getting you this appointment because I trust you. Do you trust me?" (This was beginning to sound much more cultish than business-like the more she put the pressure on to commit.)

Pause

"No, I don't know what is going to happen. If you dress well, and present yourself well, and look him in the eye, I don't know what will happen. It all depends on how you present yourself to him and how well you look him in the eye." (And now in my mind the "him" changed to "Him" as this mysterious person grew to the status of some cult leader.)

Looking across the way I discovered that the small team making these phone calls were a group of Asian Americans all under the age of 25. The men wore suits, while the women were dressed in jogging suits. Just then, another prospect appeared this time in person. He was white, 21 years old and from Dorchester (amazing the details you can overhear). At first they did what I might describe as an IAF one-on-one meeting, asking him his interests, his passions, finding connections between them and building on those commonalities. (i.e. "You like sports? Me too. We're very similar.") Group cohesion, anyone?

Then the team began to give this guy the exact same sell as they had numerous others via phone, giving him insidert tips on doing well including dressing well (they even made him stand up and turn around to assess if he passed), listening and above all else, "looking Him in the eyes."

At that point one of the women piped in, "Yeah, when I met him I was so scared but I made sure I kept my eyes right on him. You know if you do this right He can give you all the money and success you have ever wanted. He will take care of you."

This was just bizarre. Scientologists? Moonies? Amwayists? Or just plain shysters?

For the life of me I could not figure out who they were and what they were doing...all I knew was that something was not quite right.

Any suggestions on the identity of the mystery team and the "Him" to which they all defer??