Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Recent goings-on…
Alright. I know I’ve been lax in keeping up with the blog. Apologies to all. This update isn’t even very exciting, so I’m having a hard time writing it and finding much of interest to say. Don’t get me wrong, things are busy. Very busy. It’s been nearly two weeks since I had an evening to myself, but still, not that much that could be considered blog-worthy has happened. So instead, I will give you summaries of several of my recent thoughts:
1. On Religion and The Catholic Church
Ok. I was raised Catholic. I always went to church, even though I grumbled, and through a perverse feat of scheduling, had to attend church not only on Sunday mornings, but Saturday mornings for “catechism” as well, which is like Sunday school, only they get to ruin two weekend mornings instead of just one. I was baptized, confirmed and theoretically on the road to becoming a good Catholic who would tithe, preach against all the sins of the world and make all sorts of new Catholics for them to induct since contraception is against the rules.
I lapsed just after I was confirmed. Let’s admit it, I was on the road to lapsing from the time I could think and started to wonder where, exactly, this “God” dude was, and what his deal was with creating such a screwed-up world. Surely if there was a benevolent, loving God, s/he would create a world populated with good people, which has obviously not happened.
So I lapsed and was happy about it. I’m glad I lapsed. I’m glad I received the education I did, and yes, it was a good base from which to go out into the world and look at things. Fine. However, I certainly don’t believe in the Catholic faith. You’re all more than welcome to believe whatever you want, and I’ll never try to change your beliefs, so don’t go trying to change mine. I’m at peace with the universe – I don’t bother it and it doesn’t bother me.
Last weekend, Rob and I went to a Catholic church to see our friends’ child be baptized. It was big and new, and bright inside and physically different from what I was used to. The whole ceremony/procedure was similar, I remembered the words you’re supposed to say after everything, no problem. It was as if some deep, dark, buried part of my mind was reactivated. That, in itself, was not the most disturbing thing about the experience. The sermon or homily was devastating. On the way in, we were handed a petition against same-sex marriage, which is a hot topic in Canada right now since there’s a bill before parliament to legalize it.
I went away from the experience with several thoughts, one of which is that organized religion is actually one of the world’s greatest evils, which may be one of the world’s greatest paradoxes or ironies. I remembered Catholics as just people. I had no recollection that the faith was set up to be so close-minded. I’m sure that the sermons and homilies I heard as a child were just as bad, probably chock-full of references to living the good, obedient life or you’d go straight to hell. But I don’t remember them at all. The Mac says he never paid attention during the homilies, and I guess I didn’t either – I do remember repeatedly reading every last word about the apocalypse, though. When the homily came on, I’d flip to the back of the book and read all about how the world was going to end. Probably a fitting activity during those sorts of speeches, I suppose.
The problem is not with the idea, per se, because if it’s followed directly, then it’s not so bad. “Judge not, lest ye be judged” and everything. “People who live in glass houses…” and all. Honor your mother and father, don’t kill other people, don’t steal stuff, treat others the way you’d want to be treated yourself. Yes, I agree. All very nice platforms from which to operate.
However, this twisted, bizarre interpretation wherein everyone who doesn’t adhere strictly to the covenants should be summarily lectured, shunned, ostracized, jailed or otherwise forced to fall in line is just off the scale. This religion is bad. In fact, when you look at them, pretty much all organized religion is bad because it places people in a position to judge and it gives groups reasons to fight with one another about interpretations of minor issues.
Laws are laws, and they’re there to ensure that society keeps on going. You can’t very well have people cheating or stealing or raping or killing. Fine – I agree wholeheartedly. You obey the laws, which are there for a reason, and sure some of them seem kinda stupid, but you know they make the world a better place overall. Just because I feel I can drive carefully at outrageous speeds doesn’t mean that the guy next door can do it without running over someone’s grandmother, so you just accept that it’s not something you’re allowed to do by the very authorities we have all chosen to put in place. Laws are in place to keep society and its citizens safe. But the idea of morality being legislated? Makes me sick to my stomach. We need to turn away from morality being legislated and laws being set to prevent minorities from enjoying the same rights everyone else has. The lines between our own lives and the rights to them gets thinner and thinner, and we have to be more and more careful about how we step through this minefield of potential legislation.
I’ll say one more thing about this whole mess – no religion, no matter how many or how few people believe in it, should have any legal jurisdiction over any other person, especially those who don’t believe in it. Morality is choice – you choose how you want to live. Law is law. You don’t get to choose whether you break them, unless you want the consequences. Religion has no place in the issue. Whether you believe in a god, or a pantheon, or mother earth or anything else has no legal bearing on anything. It’s up to you, after a point, to decide how you want to live and why. If you need the impetus that if you don’t do things a certain way, you’ll suffer after you’re dead, then fine. If you don’t, then that’s excellent.
Why they even care what gay people do is beyond me. Theoretically, wouldn’t the religious people believe that all those sinners would get their just desserts after they die? The religious right can just stuff it, with their attempts to influence legislation.
2. On missing cats
I miss my cats terribly. I hear about how they’re doing, and about their capers from my parents periodically when I call to check on them, but it’s really not the same. I wish I could pick them up and hug them when I’m feeling rotten. I wish I could give them some treats and tell them how much I love them. I wish I could throw the rattley mice for Smudge and watch her pounce on them. I wish Tobey could climb up into my lap and rub his head on my arm, forcing me to pet him and tell him how good he is. I wish Rumble would tell me it’s dinner time, now, damnit, feed me! I wish Caspar was here to tell me he wants a hug by stabbing me in the leg with a well-placed claw (that doesn’t break the skin, mind you). I need some good cat attention.
The dogs are not the same. The dogs are bouncy and wriggly and hard, and are really too big to carry around (The NoodleDog is over 60 lbs now, and Cooter isn’t far behind at 45 lbs). Plus, the dogs have big raking claws and, as unclipped, those things will tear a furrow out of your skin like a bowie knife. Except bowie knives are sharper. Cat claws, being smaller and having less weight behind them, do on the whole less damage. Especially since they are retractable and they don’t scratch you unless you’re doing something foolish with them like teasing them when they’re in a paper bag, or you’ve pissed them off and have backed them into a corner.
3. On Everything Else
I don’t know why I have the doldrums, generally, but I do. I’m disappointed with how long it’s taking to get settled at the house (which is what I’m supposed to call it now that I’m living there, instead of “Rob’s House”). It feels like I’m on an extended stay to a relative’s place, where they say “our house is your house – make yourself at home!”, only you know very well you’re not supposed to use the good towels and you can’t really put your feet on the furniture, and you should probably be quiet all the time. I know this is just me, because Rob has done pretty much everything he can to make the place accessible to me. I don’t know why I feel this way. Oh sure, there are small reasons for small things:
- The washer/dryer are set up backwards. Seems like a small issue, sure, except the washer door opens to the left side upwards, which blocks access from and to the dryer. The dryer door opens from the left to the right and isn’t as accessible for opening when you’re standing in front of the washer, and the transference of clothing from washer to dryer isn’t happening for me as well as I’d like to see. Picky, picky.
- The living room is very dark. The lamps are pretty, sure, but they give off about three lumens of light each, and the room is big, and they’re both at one end. Consequently, if you’re trying to organize CDs alphabetically at the unlit end, you have to squint a lot and you’ll probably end up giving yourself a whopping headache.
- The bathroom is small and there is little storage space. I’m a girl, I have girl things. I have a hairdryer, toothbrushes (currently two, which is odd for me, but the way that worked out is because I was simultaneously living in two places at once for a while, and neither toothbrush is worn-out yet so I’m using them both, taking turns each day, in the hopes that I can wear ‘em out at the same time and get one new one to replace them), hairbrushes, hair clips, many little bars of soap, facewash, makeup, perfumes, hand creams, scented lotions (which are not the same as hand creams), scarves (for driving in the Tiny Car to keep my hair contained), medicines and various other sundry items. I had a bathroom in my condo, and it was full. I am now sharing a bathroom and Rob has his guy stuff, and my space is severely limited. Sure, I should cut back, but it’s frustrating when the thing you need was last seen in the bottom of an overfilled drawer and you can’t seem to find it now.
- Many of my belongings are packed in boxes. I have extracted the everyday living essentials, but have worked long and hard to amass a great quantity of stuff, most of which is now inaccessible and it’s frustrating when you need paprika, and it’s in one of those boxes in the middle of the pile, but you can’t remember what the box it’s in looks like, so you start rummaging, and then Rob brings you SOMEONE ELSE’s paprika to use.
- I can’t work the TV setup as well as I’d like. We’ve been out a lot and consequently, I’ve had to tape some TV shows I like to see regularly. Apparently you can’t tape from satellite without the powers of a lesser deity, so I’ve had to contract this job out to my parents. I ended up with one show missed entirely (they started taping pretty much one hour after it started, so I got the very ending, and then the hour of crap that was on afterwards), and one show was cut off halfway through as a special torture. Plus, their ABC network channel has a poor signal. We’re getting cable at the house this week, which is an added entertainment expense in the budget, but my sanity is probably worth it.
- The back entrance is difficult to work around. The back entrance is the main entrance we use all the time. There is room for precisely ONE person and ONE dog on that landing, and if you try to pack more than that in there, someone will probably end up falling down the stairs. It’s not so bad, but it’s just not convenient.
- Cooter continues to be destructive so we can’t leave him in the house. It’s nice out now, but it may be colder next week. See the “Cooter the Destroyer” post for further information.
- Rob’s roommate isn’t moving out for another month. This concept is so depressing that I can’t really talk about it too much or I’ll whip myself into a frenzy of insanity, but suffice it to say that I really don’t handle living with a roommate too well. Nothing personal against the guy, but I just don’t like the idea of a stranger in the house, especially one I didn’t choose as a roommate and therefore only have myself to blame for it. I’ve had terrible roommates in the past who seemed reasonable at first, so maybe I’ve just been conditioned to hate roommates, but whatever the case, I’m not at ease whatsoever in the house.
- I’m out of rye. Self explanatory.
These little things add up. I overreact and get myself into a little tizzy over them, thinking that they’re indicative of the way the whole shooting match is going to go, so I get increasingly freaked-out because of the way my mind works. I extrapolate a lot. I “read between the lines” when there aren’t any to read between. I know I do it, yet when I’m doing it, it seems like the most rational behaviour in the world to me. So there’s really no stopping it.
Further, I feel also there is no alternative. I mean, I can’t very well go and stay with my parents, can I? How ridiculous is that? And I don’t really want to be away from Rob – it’s not him, it’s the situation. I can’t move back to the condo, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. I need to just try and find a way to relax for a month (which is impossible), so I accept I’m probably just going to be a little depressed for a while.
Apologies to all who read the blog. I’ll try to give myself a good swift kick, or start drinking during the daytime, or find some sort of healthier outlet for my frustrations.
1. On Religion and The Catholic Church
Ok. I was raised Catholic. I always went to church, even though I grumbled, and through a perverse feat of scheduling, had to attend church not only on Sunday mornings, but Saturday mornings for “catechism” as well, which is like Sunday school, only they get to ruin two weekend mornings instead of just one. I was baptized, confirmed and theoretically on the road to becoming a good Catholic who would tithe, preach against all the sins of the world and make all sorts of new Catholics for them to induct since contraception is against the rules.
I lapsed just after I was confirmed. Let’s admit it, I was on the road to lapsing from the time I could think and started to wonder where, exactly, this “God” dude was, and what his deal was with creating such a screwed-up world. Surely if there was a benevolent, loving God, s/he would create a world populated with good people, which has obviously not happened.
So I lapsed and was happy about it. I’m glad I lapsed. I’m glad I received the education I did, and yes, it was a good base from which to go out into the world and look at things. Fine. However, I certainly don’t believe in the Catholic faith. You’re all more than welcome to believe whatever you want, and I’ll never try to change your beliefs, so don’t go trying to change mine. I’m at peace with the universe – I don’t bother it and it doesn’t bother me.
Last weekend, Rob and I went to a Catholic church to see our friends’ child be baptized. It was big and new, and bright inside and physically different from what I was used to. The whole ceremony/procedure was similar, I remembered the words you’re supposed to say after everything, no problem. It was as if some deep, dark, buried part of my mind was reactivated. That, in itself, was not the most disturbing thing about the experience. The sermon or homily was devastating. On the way in, we were handed a petition against same-sex marriage, which is a hot topic in Canada right now since there’s a bill before parliament to legalize it.
I went away from the experience with several thoughts, one of which is that organized religion is actually one of the world’s greatest evils, which may be one of the world’s greatest paradoxes or ironies. I remembered Catholics as just people. I had no recollection that the faith was set up to be so close-minded. I’m sure that the sermons and homilies I heard as a child were just as bad, probably chock-full of references to living the good, obedient life or you’d go straight to hell. But I don’t remember them at all. The Mac says he never paid attention during the homilies, and I guess I didn’t either – I do remember repeatedly reading every last word about the apocalypse, though. When the homily came on, I’d flip to the back of the book and read all about how the world was going to end. Probably a fitting activity during those sorts of speeches, I suppose.
The problem is not with the idea, per se, because if it’s followed directly, then it’s not so bad. “Judge not, lest ye be judged” and everything. “People who live in glass houses…” and all. Honor your mother and father, don’t kill other people, don’t steal stuff, treat others the way you’d want to be treated yourself. Yes, I agree. All very nice platforms from which to operate.
However, this twisted, bizarre interpretation wherein everyone who doesn’t adhere strictly to the covenants should be summarily lectured, shunned, ostracized, jailed or otherwise forced to fall in line is just off the scale. This religion is bad. In fact, when you look at them, pretty much all organized religion is bad because it places people in a position to judge and it gives groups reasons to fight with one another about interpretations of minor issues.
Laws are laws, and they’re there to ensure that society keeps on going. You can’t very well have people cheating or stealing or raping or killing. Fine – I agree wholeheartedly. You obey the laws, which are there for a reason, and sure some of them seem kinda stupid, but you know they make the world a better place overall. Just because I feel I can drive carefully at outrageous speeds doesn’t mean that the guy next door can do it without running over someone’s grandmother, so you just accept that it’s not something you’re allowed to do by the very authorities we have all chosen to put in place. Laws are in place to keep society and its citizens safe. But the idea of morality being legislated? Makes me sick to my stomach. We need to turn away from morality being legislated and laws being set to prevent minorities from enjoying the same rights everyone else has. The lines between our own lives and the rights to them gets thinner and thinner, and we have to be more and more careful about how we step through this minefield of potential legislation.
I’ll say one more thing about this whole mess – no religion, no matter how many or how few people believe in it, should have any legal jurisdiction over any other person, especially those who don’t believe in it. Morality is choice – you choose how you want to live. Law is law. You don’t get to choose whether you break them, unless you want the consequences. Religion has no place in the issue. Whether you believe in a god, or a pantheon, or mother earth or anything else has no legal bearing on anything. It’s up to you, after a point, to decide how you want to live and why. If you need the impetus that if you don’t do things a certain way, you’ll suffer after you’re dead, then fine. If you don’t, then that’s excellent.
Why they even care what gay people do is beyond me. Theoretically, wouldn’t the religious people believe that all those sinners would get their just desserts after they die? The religious right can just stuff it, with their attempts to influence legislation.
2. On missing cats
I miss my cats terribly. I hear about how they’re doing, and about their capers from my parents periodically when I call to check on them, but it’s really not the same. I wish I could pick them up and hug them when I’m feeling rotten. I wish I could give them some treats and tell them how much I love them. I wish I could throw the rattley mice for Smudge and watch her pounce on them. I wish Tobey could climb up into my lap and rub his head on my arm, forcing me to pet him and tell him how good he is. I wish Rumble would tell me it’s dinner time, now, damnit, feed me! I wish Caspar was here to tell me he wants a hug by stabbing me in the leg with a well-placed claw (that doesn’t break the skin, mind you). I need some good cat attention.
The dogs are not the same. The dogs are bouncy and wriggly and hard, and are really too big to carry around (The NoodleDog is over 60 lbs now, and Cooter isn’t far behind at 45 lbs). Plus, the dogs have big raking claws and, as unclipped, those things will tear a furrow out of your skin like a bowie knife. Except bowie knives are sharper. Cat claws, being smaller and having less weight behind them, do on the whole less damage. Especially since they are retractable and they don’t scratch you unless you’re doing something foolish with them like teasing them when they’re in a paper bag, or you’ve pissed them off and have backed them into a corner.
3. On Everything Else
I don’t know why I have the doldrums, generally, but I do. I’m disappointed with how long it’s taking to get settled at the house (which is what I’m supposed to call it now that I’m living there, instead of “Rob’s House”). It feels like I’m on an extended stay to a relative’s place, where they say “our house is your house – make yourself at home!”, only you know very well you’re not supposed to use the good towels and you can’t really put your feet on the furniture, and you should probably be quiet all the time. I know this is just me, because Rob has done pretty much everything he can to make the place accessible to me. I don’t know why I feel this way. Oh sure, there are small reasons for small things:
- The washer/dryer are set up backwards. Seems like a small issue, sure, except the washer door opens to the left side upwards, which blocks access from and to the dryer. The dryer door opens from the left to the right and isn’t as accessible for opening when you’re standing in front of the washer, and the transference of clothing from washer to dryer isn’t happening for me as well as I’d like to see. Picky, picky.
- The living room is very dark. The lamps are pretty, sure, but they give off about three lumens of light each, and the room is big, and they’re both at one end. Consequently, if you’re trying to organize CDs alphabetically at the unlit end, you have to squint a lot and you’ll probably end up giving yourself a whopping headache.
- The bathroom is small and there is little storage space. I’m a girl, I have girl things. I have a hairdryer, toothbrushes (currently two, which is odd for me, but the way that worked out is because I was simultaneously living in two places at once for a while, and neither toothbrush is worn-out yet so I’m using them both, taking turns each day, in the hopes that I can wear ‘em out at the same time and get one new one to replace them), hairbrushes, hair clips, many little bars of soap, facewash, makeup, perfumes, hand creams, scented lotions (which are not the same as hand creams), scarves (for driving in the Tiny Car to keep my hair contained), medicines and various other sundry items. I had a bathroom in my condo, and it was full. I am now sharing a bathroom and Rob has his guy stuff, and my space is severely limited. Sure, I should cut back, but it’s frustrating when the thing you need was last seen in the bottom of an overfilled drawer and you can’t seem to find it now.
- Many of my belongings are packed in boxes. I have extracted the everyday living essentials, but have worked long and hard to amass a great quantity of stuff, most of which is now inaccessible and it’s frustrating when you need paprika, and it’s in one of those boxes in the middle of the pile, but you can’t remember what the box it’s in looks like, so you start rummaging, and then Rob brings you SOMEONE ELSE’s paprika to use.
- I can’t work the TV setup as well as I’d like. We’ve been out a lot and consequently, I’ve had to tape some TV shows I like to see regularly. Apparently you can’t tape from satellite without the powers of a lesser deity, so I’ve had to contract this job out to my parents. I ended up with one show missed entirely (they started taping pretty much one hour after it started, so I got the very ending, and then the hour of crap that was on afterwards), and one show was cut off halfway through as a special torture. Plus, their ABC network channel has a poor signal. We’re getting cable at the house this week, which is an added entertainment expense in the budget, but my sanity is probably worth it.
- The back entrance is difficult to work around. The back entrance is the main entrance we use all the time. There is room for precisely ONE person and ONE dog on that landing, and if you try to pack more than that in there, someone will probably end up falling down the stairs. It’s not so bad, but it’s just not convenient.
- Cooter continues to be destructive so we can’t leave him in the house. It’s nice out now, but it may be colder next week. See the “Cooter the Destroyer” post for further information.
- Rob’s roommate isn’t moving out for another month. This concept is so depressing that I can’t really talk about it too much or I’ll whip myself into a frenzy of insanity, but suffice it to say that I really don’t handle living with a roommate too well. Nothing personal against the guy, but I just don’t like the idea of a stranger in the house, especially one I didn’t choose as a roommate and therefore only have myself to blame for it. I’ve had terrible roommates in the past who seemed reasonable at first, so maybe I’ve just been conditioned to hate roommates, but whatever the case, I’m not at ease whatsoever in the house.
- I’m out of rye. Self explanatory.
These little things add up. I overreact and get myself into a little tizzy over them, thinking that they’re indicative of the way the whole shooting match is going to go, so I get increasingly freaked-out because of the way my mind works. I extrapolate a lot. I “read between the lines” when there aren’t any to read between. I know I do it, yet when I’m doing it, it seems like the most rational behaviour in the world to me. So there’s really no stopping it.
Further, I feel also there is no alternative. I mean, I can’t very well go and stay with my parents, can I? How ridiculous is that? And I don’t really want to be away from Rob – it’s not him, it’s the situation. I can’t move back to the condo, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. I need to just try and find a way to relax for a month (which is impossible), so I accept I’m probably just going to be a little depressed for a while.
Apologies to all who read the blog. I’ll try to give myself a good swift kick, or start drinking during the daytime, or find some sort of healthier outlet for my frustrations.
