All at Once.

So it's been a bit since I've posted anything. I've started no less than 5 posts, but could not make any sense of them, so I quit. Right now, as I find myself reading several things at once, my mind is a bit muddled.

Every time I go to Austin, I come back with no less than 5 new books. Part of my circuit there is the book stores, so I hit Book People (a wonder in itself), the Half-Priced Books on North Lamar and the Goodwill near my old apartment that has an impressive, but very unorganized library. This time I can back with Mrs. Dalloway, Franny and Zooey, The Corrections, something called Total Happiness (an independently published book that was quite good until the end) , The Irresisitible Revolution, and Are Men Necessary? by Maureen Dowd (who is an op-ed columnist for the New York Times.) And now I am in the process of getting through all of them.

I started with Are Men Necessary?, which is a commentary on feminism, politics and the rise of cosmetic surgery in America (among other things). And then I moved on to The Irresistible Revolution, which is pretty amazing. And in addition to these two, I'm reading Financial Peace Revisited as part of a class I am taking. Reading The Irresistible Revolution right after Are Men Necessary?, has filled my head with thoughts of revolution, and the means to combat some -isms (i.e. material-, rac-, sex-, etc.), and to bring about others (i.e. optim-, femin-, liberal-, etc.). And then I read about attaining financial peace and am told that I should work toward "wealth building" and that I should have the means to buy a boat should I so choose (I won't, because boats make me nervous, but the choice is there). But the voice in my head responds "Savings, Retirement, Boats, Houses, Cars? But people are sleeping in the park across the street from my office. Something is wrong with this." I feel like I'm simultaneously living in two worlds.

I had been told about The Irresistible Revolution by some friends, but am just now getting to read it. The author, Shane Claiborne, is part of The Simple Way community in Philadelphia. He and several others have opened a community center and live there along side the residents of one of the poorest neighborhoods in the country. In the book he tells stories of protests, and important trips to India and Iraq, and of using joy and love to show the world there is another way. That conflict can be solved without violence, that poverty can be overcome when we care for each other, that dying people can be given dignity even if they cannot be saved. This gives me hope that my generation of Americans is looking at the World differently and seeing what has to be done to make it just, and safe, and peaceful.

So now I am wrestling with and trying to reconcile these two worlds. I find money very tricky, and am made very anxious by its presence in mass, but also by its absence. I have lived my entire life in a place of financial struggle (though I know very well that I and my family are among some of the wealthiest people in the world), and can see the great potential of finally winning this battle. I simply must hope for the discernment to know when enough is enough, and to use what I have to do what is right.

Holiday.

Today is my first day back from a very nice vacation. I was off for a week and spent 4 of those days in Texas. I enjoyed the heat, did a significant amount of car singing, spent alot of time with my wonderful friends, and got to see two of my favorite people get married (to each other). I got to go to Kerbey Lane, and Book People, and both of my favorite grocery stores. And at one point got so lost in the suburbs/woods as to confirm that I can never live there. Trees make me nervous.

Damnation.

I made a vague statement a few posts ago about having decided not to believe in Hell any more. I promised I'd come back to it, and have decided to do so today. When I was in high school, my best friend was Catholic. He told me once that his mother thought she was going to Hell for not believing in Hell. Isn't that a wonderful paradox?

A few months ago, I heard an oldish episode of This American Life, that spoke of Carlton Pearson, a Baptist minister from Oklahoma, coming to the conclusion that there is no Hell separate from that we have created for ourselves (and others) here on Earth. This was what solidified it for me, but there much more to it. Here goes...I cannot see the point in living your life, working and loving, sleeping and eating, running and walking, simply to achieve a place in Heaven, and thus leave an empty spot in Hell. First, there is nothing man can ever do to earn a place in Heaven. And I do believe, that under this same umbrella of grace, there is nothing man can do to take himself out of God's favor. I don't believe that this is something we earn by being in the right place, at the right time and being given the gift of knowledge of God and Christ. For so many of us, our Christianity is merely happenstance. I was born into a family that for generations had been a part of the church. I lived in a community where church was cool, and thus we went. The church I went to in college was about a 5 minute walk from my dorm, so there was no excuse for me not to go there. And the people I met there happened to be similar people to who I was at the time, and some of them have remained so. Now I am trivializing these things to make a point, but I don't discount God's hand in any of this. I'm simply saying, what if one of these things had not been so, and I had never come to know God? Is the sum of these circumstances enough to make me worthy of Heaven? Or maybe it's just that we should live our lives in love, doing what is best for our fellow man, trying to live a good life, and hope for the best. Or maybe know for the best. That God is on our side. That He loves us wholly for who we wholly are. That He has prepared a place for all of His creation. And that we will all be welcome there.

"Wisdom is a Woman."

Last night, as CCfB's regular minister was away on a very arduous trip to Jamaica, my friend Jen was in charge of teaching class and later preaching. When I walked in she asked me to read a scripture and said, "It has be read by a woman. You'll see why." The scripture was from Proverbs 8, and is the embodiment of Wisdom speaking in a female voice. I was greatly amused to be the voice of wisdom.

Growing up in the Church of Christ, I always knew that I would never be called upon to lead the church anywhere. Even then, I didn't have very many close female friends and found it difficult to relate to woman on any level, and thus could never see myself as a teacher of the fabled Ladies' Bible study, and I am not patient enough, nor knowledgeable enough, to being called upon to mold young minds. I remember in junior high and high school there were months when the boys were separated from the girls during Bible classes, and we always wondered what the other was talking about. The girls in my youth group were close enough to the boys that we got the secret out of them. While we were talking about sex, and why we shouldn't have it, they were being taught to be church leaders. In the coming months they would do sermons on Sunday nights, and lead singing and pass communion, while we sat in the pews and remembered the reasons you should never touch a boy on the knee.
Upon moving to NYC, I had my first experience with a gender inclusive church, and found it slightly intimidating, but also so freeing. To sit in a pew and listen a beautiful, honest prayer given in an untrained female voice. To see my friend Laura lead singing while holding her little girl on her hip. And last night, to hear Jen speak with such great understanding, while periodically stopping to tell her daughter hello.

Standing Still.

I recently got an e-mail from a friend--formerly of New York, now of Atlanta--and there-in he said, "So are you looking for a job yet?" It seems rude as I'm reading it now, but the main thing I cherish about this friend in particular is his total honesty. The job I currently hold is, at a year and two months, the place I've worked the longest (aside from my part-time stint in Med. Recs. Shout out to TOSRA!). I don't know what it is exactly that makes me move on so quickly, but there's this voice in my head telling me to keep looking even after I've found work and am somewhat settled. I generally last about six months before I start perusing the classifieds. I see a help wanted sign, it doesn't matter that SW jobs don't work that way, and I find myself wanting to apply for it. I am often in the mind-set I had when working as a temp or an intern, always thinking about what I'll do when this job ends. But the thing is, this job is not supposed to end.

So, this time around, I've been looking and interviewing for jobs since roughly January, taking one small break due to discouragement. I've had probably 10 interviews, with no call-backs for seconds. I don't know why. I'm not a bad interviewee. I'm polite and intelligent. I'm fully qualified for most of these positions. I'm not wearing cut-off shorts to, or smoking during the interview (though I think that would be funny if I did). As I like the thought of divine providence (more than the thought of once again being deemed unhireable), I'm starting to believe this is God telling me to stand still. And while I've got lots of valid reasons for hoping to move on, I'm going to give it a go. Hopefully, I can survive it.

S.W.I.S.H.

A few days ago I was walking down 6th Avenue, when I saw my life story sitting the window of Barnes & Noble. It was a book called Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys. I immediately went into the store to read and buy it.

I have long been well-acquainted with the gay community. Call me what you will--straight ally, friend of the family, friend of a friend of Dorothy, or, my favorite, a S.W.I.S.H. And I have read far and wide about the relationship between a gay man and a straight woman (probably looking for validation), but find only tales of shopping and make-overs, scandalous evenings out, drugs and sex and angst, no sports EVER. But this isn't so much how it's been for me. So when I bought this book I was apprehensive.

The first story is about fashionistas. And though I do have a couple of friends with whom I shop and make commentary on the fashion mistakes of others (those who can't, teach), this is not what these friendships are really about. But the next few stories made me smile at recognizing us in them. The one about the friends that met in college and have been by each others' side ever since. The one about the friends who met through friends, and were instantly an item, working together, applying to grad school together, one allowing the other to cry all over his pillow when this doesn't work out. My stories are a mix of these. And though there are specks of raucous behavior in these stories as well, the sentiment of it, knowing that these relationships are just as important in people's lives as the ones sanctioned by law, is still there and makes me laugh and cry and want to write my own story.

Windsor.

I got an e-mail from my mother today, letting me know they had had to put my dog, Windsor, to sleep yesterday. I say "my dog" but he was really my mother's dog. He loved her with such devotion that made the rest of us jealous. I was often offended that he did not want to play with me, but would take the toy from my hand and go with it directly to my mother, as if bearing a slobbery bouquet of flowers. He was a very sweet dog. Hyper but not too much. Very smart and tolerant, as in high school my friends would often pick him up and make him dance and I was very found of making him do a dog show run. I used to take him for walks around the neighborhood--a rarity in his backyard life--and we would stop at my best friend's house, and Windsor would wait patiently as my friend and I talked for hours in his drive way. My best friend always spoke to him with a British accent as he thought the name Windsor warranted such a thing. He had a great love for stuffed penguins, and the occasional cow, but was known to turn his nose up at anything not black and white. And he knew very well that he was not allowed to bark in the house, so he would sit at the front window and if he saw something worth barking at would run to the back yard through the dog door and bark. So polite.

I have not seen him in almost 4 years, as that's how long it's been since I've been to my childhood home, but it is still sad that he is gone. He's probably the last pet I'll ever have, as my allergies are now beyond being able to tolerate anything other than maybe a fish. But he was a good pet, a loving companion, and a constant source of amusement. And he will be missed.

A Beautiful Day.

Yesterday, CCfB participated in the 22nd Annual AIDS Walk New York. The weather was beautiful despite the ominous weather reports, and we had a wonderful time spending the day together (which is always the case). We were 15 of the over 45,000 people walking that day. And we (with the other 45,000 or so people) raised $6,857,527. This is one of my favorite days every year, as it helps me remember why it is that I do the work that I do. But it was even more special yesterday, to be able to do this with some of my favorite people by my side.

If you've missed the donation boat, don't worry. It's never too late. Click here to donate. Thank you to those who already have.

The End.

Warning: TV spoilers lie here in. If you've Tivo-ed the Grey's Anatomy season finale read me later.

A few months ago I decided that I no longer wanted to watch the Gilmore Girls. I love them, have from the very beginning. The witty banter, the unbelievable mother-daughter relationship, the town troubadour. I have defended it against the hatred of all of my boy roommates. And then I just couldn't do it any more. At the end of last season, the mother, Lorelai, got married to the man she's been on-again-off-again with for like 20 years. But then three TV months into their marriage, she decides that she does not actually love him and she's still in love with the person she was actually supposed to have married at the end of the previous season. The thing in all of this WB-typical drama that made me give up and state aloud at my TV, "They are dead to me" was the fact that no one is allowed to be happy. To just be in a relationship that is a til-death-do-us-part sort of life. I was again drawn in when I found out that this was the last season, so I watched again. And then second to last episode, the daughter, Rory, is proposed to by her loving, wonderful, long-time boyfriend. But she can't do it, and he goes away. Again, the Gilmore girls are alone together.

So tonight I was watching the season finale of Grey's Anatomy, and one of the surgeons is getting married to one of the interns. The Interns discuss that this has to work, because if this works for this couple, it means that it can work for all of these women, giving them hope that despite their dysfunctions and their powerful careers they can have a normal, happy relationship. But it doesn't work. He knows that she's not sure and cannot be okay with that, so it's over.

Now, I don't watch these shows for hope that I can be independent and educated (and a wee bit neurotic), and still find a way to have a normal life. But I find it upsetting that none of these women is allowed to find someone who loves them, and who they can love, and who they can build a life together with. I know very well how difficult it is to make a marriage work, and how difficult even the easy ones are. But I am almost offended that a woman on television is not allowed to be bright and independent, and capable of having other people in her life, without them being only her dysfunctional girl friends who she can sit with and lament how impossible it is to find a good man. Read on...

A Question.

I recently exited a meeting where a question was raised that I don't know the answer to, so I'm asking all of you (and fighting the urge to tirade about it myself). When you walk into a staff meeting with say 25 people in attendance, should you be expected to greet every one of them, or is it acceptable to just sit down and wait for the meeting to begin, talking only to the people in your general vacinity? Discuss.