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I just exchanged a few books I don’t need for Serenity and Firefly, which, of course, I do need.
Since Borders was also having a buy 3 DVDs get one free sale, I also picked up the second X men movie and…..
BARBARELLA!!!!!!!!
Fear me.
I apologize for the radio silence on the faith fronts. You’d think, during this season of liturgical beauty and wonder, and given my earlier wish at the Abbey for a simpler Christmas, that I’d have much reflection to share on this year’s season, awake to the real spirit of it through new eyes.
But quite honestly, these eyes can’t afford Christmas decorations, nor an advent wreath, nor a nifty CD of Christmas carols–not after the winter I’ve had with my car. Since early November, I’ve sunk close to $1,600 on the blasted thing, and that ate up Christmas, put me behind on several bills, and kicked me in the spiritual chest. It’s put EFM at risk, and the slight influx of cash I got from it being holiday time went directly toward surprising the heck out of my son with a few things under the tree. (Getting visits from Santa at 13 is no easy feat, but his eyes were pretty dern wide Christmas morning when he realized there were seven more packages under the tree than the night before.)
Said car trouble kept me from being peripatetic and visiting my childhood parish for lessons and carols the weekend before Christmas, and seriously curtailed my trip to Philly. As a result, I have not been to church since Shelby’s ordination on the 15th, but what a lovely ordination it was.
Being away from church, though, something strange has filled my heart: the realization that the emptiness I feel in Virginia is simple homesickness. In Philly, I had a close connection with a dozen wonderful friends, and a wider circle of affection that made the place home. I had a conversion experience while driving alongside the Schuylkill river. My aunt and her family were my support structures while raising my son alone. I spent five whole days in the Delaware Valley, my longest trip back since I left a year and a half ago, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been wrong about my calling. Cause, you know, it’s so hard to hear.
No less committed, but realizing that the Diocese of Pa. is my home too.
Fortunately, I have a meeting with Fr. Jim in January wherein I can try and work all this out. And I think I’m here for the next few years, regardless: the kid needs me close, now that he lives with his dad.
Speaking of the kid, today’s the day that he makes a cameo appearance at A Light Blazes in the Darkness — okay, I’m a day late, but still, it’s really neat. It’s writing that fulfills.
God, help me to remember that I do forget to listen for you, as I have these past weeks, mired in my anger at cashflow and juggling the needs and demands and company of family and friends. Help me to slow down. Help me to concentrate on the slow-and-steady when the impetuousness tickles my chest. And please, God, a small favor: please don’t do this by breaking my car down again.
As some of you will recall, I plowed through Buffy seasons 3 and 4 in
the span of three days while recovering from gallbladder surgery back
in April.
I just finished season 5. (Also watched much Angel in the interim and
a bit of Firefly.) And what I really, really, really want to know is
why the key was so important that the monks didn't destroy it when
they should have.
If that comes up later, don't spoil it, but if not, feel free to discuss.
Been home since about 5, and it’s been that kind of a day, wherein.. as I explained to one of DFH’s friends on the phone, it wasn’t so much traffic as the fact that the journey had a few blobs along the way, of the sort that look tiny and inconspicuous until you drop a paper towel on top of them and they spread out.
For instance, the taco bell that had no line, but after we walked over to get our drinks, we realized that of the 20 or so people in the room, only two of them had their food. We ordered at 1:45, and
weren’t eating until 2:30. I almost got my money back–and several people did. What I have learned, this being the second time having had this experience at a taco bell in northern maryland, is that I need to break up with the restaurant for good no matter how much K loves the crap.
I had to take several alternate routes, not the least of which being that I departed Pottstown as if going home to Narberth, and ended up on this beautiful stretch of highway that connects 422 to 202.
Then we hit a massive snarl where 322, 1, and 202 come together in southeast pa. I dropped down route 1, slid over to newark on 896, and crossed the delaware line without paying a toll before rejoining 95. that’s a neat scam they have going on.
95 around Baltimore was like a pong game, with me heading over to the baltimore washington parkway to get around the backup after the tunnel and sliding back over to 95 to avoid the backup at the route 32 sinkhole. What is it with that road and sinkholes?
hit rush hour in maryland. was mostly going against it, but still managed to call DFH while at a complete stop in the third of six lanes on 95S just before it splits into the beltway.
Also, all I want next Christmas is a job offer in Philly that will allow me to move back into my old stomping grounds, somewhere in Montgomery County near Merion High, near my friends, near the restaurants I love, near my aunt, near my family, and near what my heart now tells me is home.
I don’t think I’ll have it by next Christmas, but it’s nice to have a goal.
…..on so many levels.
Philadelphia, and my friends here—
I love you.
And to that end, Rob Brezsny gives me this horoscope:
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): I have selected a quote by Irish playwright
Brendan Behan to serve as your motto in 2006. I suggest that you write
it out on a piece of red paper and place it in a prominent place like your
bathroom mirror or computer monitor. “If you have a talent, use it in
every which way possible,” said Behan. “Don't hoard it. Don't dole it out
like a miser. Spend it lavishly like a millionaire intent on going broke.”
I keep stepping on Corgis. Gizmo, in particular, loves curling up at my feet, and I often am not aware that he's done so until I step on a little Corgi foot.
Also, snoring Newfoundlands are funny. Especially when they wake up with a start.
1. The car has now gone through an entire tank of gas with no lights coming on and no odd behavior, although I’m like an abused puppy in that when I ran over a plastic bottle, I had to get out of the car and check to make sure there was no damage, and even once I had seen it was just a plastic bottle, I was shaking so bad that for the three blocks to my destination convinced that it was going to either overheat or drop all its fuel. The fact that I have gone 300 miles and have just under a quarter of a tank of gas is sure sign that it’s happier than it was, but I still don’t trust it.
2. Yesterday, I headed out to Plainsboro to see Dani, and then on the way back to town I dropped by the home of and had dinner with Christiane and Thom, and then I bopped down to Ten Stone at 21st and South and had Yuengling pints while chatting with Rosemary and Marvin. Then I came back to Pottstown and was snuggled by a gigantic tuxedo cat and an eccentric Siamese.
3. Today, it seems Dahlak is open. Who’s coming? Did anyone get in touch with Helena? The number I have for her is no go. I plan on hooking up with Jenn and Tim at some point, but definitely want to meet up at Dahlak around 8 p.m. You know, I remember how to get there memetically but I don’t remember the address. 48th and Baltimore? I forget.
4. Tomorrow we go home. Vroom vroom. I’m knocking on all matter of wood that the car doesn’t pull some annoying brickhead stunt on the way.
Well, the first casualty of the holiday is my cellphone, which somehow
got knocked into the kitchen sink.
I'm hoping that after it dries back out tomorrow, I'll be able to
access the phone book. But I may send out a siren in the morning if
I'm missing your phone number, so if you're expecting to hear from me
in the morning, and don't, drop me a line with
your number. .. I'll post an update here if it is indeed fried.
Perusing my spam inbox on gmail, I was amused to find the sponsored
link for the page:
“French Fry Spam Recipe: Bake 30-40 minutes….”
For Christmas, I got a meme.
You are a Maine Coon! You are larger than life, a
gentle giant. You are independent, but very
affectionate with your friends and family.
What breed of cat are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Too funny. What is it about owners taking after their pets?