Sunday

The last couple of Sundays, I’ve been visiting the Buckhead Church on Roswell Road. My friend Sean told me about a sermon series that was going on, called “The Star, The Cross and the Crescent”, obviously about Judaism, Islam and Christianity and their relationship to one another. A co-worker, Sandra, attends there and invited me to come with her…and so I went.

The Buckhead Church is vastly different from the church I normally attend; a very formal United Methodist Church that I won’t name….mainly because I would hate for anyone reading this blog to suppose that all my church members write about the unsavory things I do. What I DO love about being United Methodist, is that we take EVERBODY. Every nationality, mixed race couples, old rich folks, young pierced and tattooed folks, unmarried pregnant people, you name it, we’re just glad you’re at church. My particular church is in an old Anglican sanctuary, with Tiffany stained glass windows, ornate carvings and a magnificent pipe organ. Having attended Catholic school, the formality appeals to me. I love the old hymns and find comport in them. Most contemporary Christian music annoys me, as I find it un-compelling and generally lame.

All that aside, I have very much enjoyed attending the Buckhead Church. You have to get there early if you want to find a seat, because it’s filled to capacity. We sing about four songs together with an awesome live band. It’s a bit like having your church songs played by U2 or Coldplay. I enjoy it immensely and find the lyrics to be much like things I think about God when I am alone.

Then, we sit and watch a video of Andy Stanley’s sermon, which is on a one-week delay from his live version at North Point Church. This would be odd, except the video is life sized and very much just like watching a live message. The sermon series has been extremely thought provoking, explaining the intertwined histories of Judaism, Islam and Christianity. And believe me, it doesn’t let anyone off the hook.

At this point, I need to ask myself: do I want to stay at my lovely, traditional, comfortable United Methodist Church, or move on to something new? Here is what I am thinking so far:

My church
Is Beautiful
Sings the majestic old hymns, with an awesome choir
Contains my Sunday School class, whom I adore
Contains more age ranges, social classes, races
Allows women to be in every position of authority, including bishops
Offers infant or adult baptism
Serves communion monthly
Has a VERY educated scholar as a pastor who loves to show us that nuances of old Greek and Aramaic words make all the difference when interpreting scripture

Buckhead Church
Seems to be doing a bang-up job of attracting young people
Located in an auditorium
Employs some fairly rockin’ (non-annoying) rock music
Has more of a charismatic pastor
Doesn’t have Sunday School – except for high school kids and under
Has small groups where people can connect on a closer level
Does not allow women to be Elders (I asked)

And yet something makes me want to go back there. The idea of small groups is appealing; in the way that Sunday School is at my current church. I also worry that I will be made uncomfortable that I am 33 and not married (as I feel a little at my own church anyway). I am also afraid that I won’t find a group for those in the same place in their spiritual journey as I am. I’m not a seeker, I’m already there. Imperfect and struggling though I may be, I already love the Lord. Clearly, I need to do some more exploring about the small groups and continuing education.

Also troubling; I am doubtful I could, in good conscience, join a church that doesn’t allow women the same admittance to leadership as men. Additionally, I think that frequent access to the sacraments is fundamental in a relationship with Christ.

I do want to go back there though. I need to decide whether all the things that I don’t love are worth enough to keep me away. Will I put my money where my mouth is as a feminist? Or will I decide that since Jesus also didn’t ordain women (at least in written history), that His example is enough for me? Will I continue to be disturbed by the lack of racial, economic and age diversity in a church that is striving to reach young people in Atlanta?....especially when I am already "reached"?

Let Them Eat Popcorn

James and I just got back from the pre-screening of Marie Antoinette. We had free tickets and I wanted to go because it was actually filmed in part at Versailles. Well folks, that's about all I got out of the movie; the scenery and some beautiful shoes. I think James just wants his 2 hours back.

In a Mirror, Dimly

Hi everyone.

Sorry no posts for a while. I am having trouble concentrating these days…I guess I need to start taking the meds again! There have been a million times where there were things about which I wanted to write, but couldn’t focus long enough to do it. Maybe I can finish up some of the posts I’ve started…and eventually get them up here.

Let me just say that I am looking for work again. I feel positive about the decision to leave where I am. But it’s all got me thinking a rather un-profound thought: What is real life?

Is your real life your job? For me, it NEVER has been. Work has been a means to an end and not one iota more. Maybe that’s because I’ve never been in love with my work, or maybe, I’m just not that good at it, or maybe, I’m not as smart as I once thought I was.

Regardless (as opposed to irregardless, which is not even a word because it’s REDUNDANT), I have been deciding for a long time that my life is all those things I do when I’m NOT working. It’s being with my friends, whether we are doing something or nothing. It’s having the daily cocktail on my balcony with my roommate. It’s cooking and washing the dishes, and doing the laundry. It’s watching Iron Chef with James and dragging him for walks around Piedmont Park. It’s talking to my family and spending time with them when I can. It’s shopping and dancing and reading and sending birthday cards and taking showers and all the daily things I do when I am not in from of this damned desk. Life does not happen in a cube, even if you have online friends.

I think that if I never worked another day in my life, there would always be someone else who does what I do. Let’s face it, I am not curing cancer or establishing peace in the Middle East. I always wanted a high prestige job which somehow included wearing expensive shoes eating lunch at glamorous places. Okay, I have the shoes and I can eat lunch wherever I want (at least some of the time). And guess what?

Nothing.

If I could make this same money working at Starbucks the Evil Totalitarian Coffee Regime, or even stocking shelves somewhere, I would do it. I let it go. I don’t need the prestige anymore. I realize this is not “doing small things with great joy” like St. Teresa did, and that’s a little bit sad and fatalistic sounding.

However, the upside is that I know for sure that my real value lies not in what I do for a living….it’s in the things I can give that have nothing to do with money. And I have to tell you, it’s a weight off my shoulders to finally come to that conclusion.

Happy 27th Day of September!

Today is my birthday. Now, I don’t need to draw attention to that fact, except that I got to speak with two of my very favorite people on the phone today: Matthew and Taylor. I got a separate phone call from each of them. Sometimes I get calls from Taylor. She is an excellent phone conversation partner. But today I got a call from Matthew, and I have been made to understand that that’s a rare honor, as he is usually, “not taking calls.”

We chatted for a bit, you know, about whether he was home or at school today, what the dog was doing, etc. He said that he was at home today but was in the car at the moment with Mommy, and no, the dog was not with them because she was at home ….silly!

Matthew then wanted to know what kind of party I was having. I said, “I’m having a birthday party, with cake, at your house!” And he said, “No, what KIND of party are you having??!” At this point Kris had to get on the phone and say something like, “He wants to know if you are having a Thomas the Train party or a princess party. He asked me this earlier, and I said I thought you would want a princess party, like Taylor had two years ago.”

Well of course. Hang on….got to find my tiara around here somewhere…..

….you think I’m kidding, but I really do have one. I even wore it to Taylor’s party.

The Internet is for Porn

So since my very minor surgery, my boyfriend has been left feeling a bit, uh…lonely. We recently had the following conversation:

Me: Sorry I haven’t been able to pay enough attention to you lately.
Him: It’s okay. I know you don’t feel well.

(Pause)

Me: Have you been looking at porn on the Internet?

(Pause)

Him: I *may have* passed by some porn on the Internet.
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I have come a long way since having a conversation something like this with an ex:

Me: (incredulous) Do you look at porn on the Internet??!

Him: Yes.

Me: Will you please STOP looking at porn on the Internet?

(long pause)

Him: No.

This makes me wonder if totally honesty in romantic relationships is ever so slighty overrated.

Those Horns Were Holding Up My Halo!!

Last Friday, I had to two cysts removed from my scalp. Not super fun. They were both on the top of my head….two lumps which Mom routinely referred to as “the spots were my horns were removed.” :

I fell asleep during the surgery at the dermatologist’s office. When it was over, the nurse wrapped me up old school style, with gauze wrapped under my chin, like I had a tooth ache. It was like something out of a Tom& Jerry cartoon. I looked in the mirror and had two white gauze bumps spaced evenly over the top of my head. It basically looked like I was wearing white teddy bear ears on a head band.

After I paid and scheduled an appointment to have my stitches removed, I was afraid to walk out into the waiting room, not wanting to frighten the children out there with my bandages.

I tried to sneak out, but a little boy looked up from his puzzle and with a huge grin on his face, pointed and said “Cookie Monster!” Well, at least I didn’t scare him.

The Hills are Alive...

This morning on the elevator up to my office, I was watching the little TV screen with news snippets and whatnot. It said that a Doors Greatest Hits album was coming out. This made me think of my old boyfriend “Scooter”. He loves the Doors. This also made reminded me that with each boyfriend, I added one or two musical artists to my “stuff I like to listen to” repertoire.

My 9th grade boyfriend, Craig, was (and still is) way into U2. I have to say, that is the one new group or singer that has stuck with me the most. I also love U2, but then, so do a lot of people or they wouldn’t be so successful….even now.

My 11th grade boyfriend loved Billy Joel. In fact I still sometimes sleep in my Storm Front concert t-shirt from about 1990. I liked Billy Joel quite a bit, and still love many of his older songs. I have a two CD set, that I used to listen to on road trips between Tallahassee and Cape Canaveral, because it’s so long. Since I knew all the words….I would be hoarse in the throat by the time I got home.

12th grade boyfriend: can’t recall the specifics, but I do remember him really liking Pink Floyd. I still just cannot get into that at all, but then we were at odds most of the time on several issues.

Then there was the long period with no boyfriend, but through friends was introduced to the Sundays, Stone Roses, Lightening Seeds, and Day by the River and Four Squirrels. (All you Gainesvillians might remember those last two.) During the college years I also got really into Prince (or whatever he was calling himself at that point.)

When I met my ex boyfriend J, I was able to indulge in my nostalgia for John Denver Music. We listed to a lot of Enya. I got him to appreciate Madonna…and that was about it for us and music. (Most of our “media” time together was spent watching the Sci Fi Network….when we actually had enough money for cable.)

With my current boyfriend James…we seem to be encountering a bit of trouble finding common ground in the music area. He does appreciate dance/techno, etc…but the stuff he listens to is heavier and scarier and angrier. Then there’s the punk, emo, and some other genres I've never even heard of. Poor guy, I am eternally just him asking to turn the car stereo off. I think the best we can do is focus on back in the day when we both enjoyed Depeche Mode, New Order, Erasure and the Pet Shop Boys. Oh, and he also digs show tunes. (And YES, James is straight).

So I guess my point is that it’s pretty amazing that music can remind you of certain times in your life the way that different smells can take you back to different memories. I could bore you even more describing these memories. I’ll leave that for another time. For now, I’ll just tell you what’s in my car stereo:

Madonna – Confessions on a Dance Floor
U2 – All That You Can’t Leave Behind, the Joshua Tree and Achtung! Baby
ATB – Seven Years
Sonique – Hear My Cry (I really might be a gay man…)
Oakenfold – Bunnka
The Best of OM – (belly dancing music)
Ricky Martin - can’t remember which one
Chemical Brothers - Singles
Kylie Minogue – Body Language
ABBA – Gold
John Mayer – Room For Squares
Gypsy Kings – can’t remember which one
Erasure – Pop
Some Latin Salsa Stuff, don’t know the titles, but totally in Spanish
BT – Movement in Still Life
America Graffiti - Soundtrack
And last but not least; Gay Pimp – Soccer Practice ;)

Dance Fever

When I was little, my parents had one of those huge floor unit stereos, where the top lifted up and there was a record player down inside. It was crammed to overflowing with Dolly Parton, disco, Olivia Newton John, ABBA, Alabama, more disco and John Denver. Additionally, there were several pop albums in German….that Dad would play and I would just sing along having no idea what I was saying.

I loved the show Dance Fever, where couples would compete while dancing on a lighted dance floor. On the weekend when Dad was finished with the yard work and Mom was doing something in the kitchen, Dad would stack up a bunch of disco records and turn on the football game. He would watch football, with me dancing like it was going out of style off to the side in the living room, pretending I was on Dance Fever. It was like Instant Babysitter. Music on the stereo = small tan child, wearing only the big Carter’s flowered panties, dancing herself silly. Now don’t get me wrong, my parents paid lots of attention to me and Matt. But Dad luuuvs him some SEC football, and this was the best way for peace in the house while it was on TV.

I think this is where my love for, or rather addiction to, dance music came into being. I can’t help it, I’ve been listening to it since was about 3 years old. I specifically remember, the song S.O.S. by ABBA would come on, and I would hide behind an avocado green and harvest gold living room chair and cry, because the song made me sad and/or frightened me. I think it was it was because it’s written in a minor key (sad sounding) and I knew that when someone said “S.O.S.” it was because they were on a sinking ship or something bad was about to happen. Despite pop songs in minor keys…I was attracted to pop/dance music from a very early age. I vividly remember dancing to "That's the Way" uh huh uh huh, "I Like It" uh huh uh huh (complete with finger pointing motions) in the living room. And, um, if that song ever comes on in my presence....I pretty much still do the same dance, only wearing a better outift.

While I was home this year for the 4th of July, one of those horrible commericals came on the TV advertising a really annyoing collection of bubble gum pop songs (i.e. Barbie Girl and Mambo #5 or some such nonsense). Mom looked at me over the top of the newspaper and said, "If we were 25 years younger and still living in Holland, that is the sort of thing your father would have ordered." I wanted to barf...but still, I could sorta see the appeal. I had probably been singing the German equivalent of "Macarena" since I was three...(but don't tell anyone that....Dad and I being very serious analytical types....)