Mmmmm, butter.
The End.
Category Archives: friends
Vaya sin Dios
Go without God (addressing the plural). Watch how I start with dinner, and manage to come back around to this:
I enjoyed a lovely (and stuffing) Indian meal with some blogger gals. Ladies, if you will. We talked about lots of things. Husbands (theirs), kids (theirs), jobs, careers, ex-boyfriends, pickles’ association with disco,* blogging, stalkers, Henry Rollins… At one point during the evening, one chum said, about me, “She doesn’t like Christians.”
Um?
She was joking, of course, but it did give me pause as I drove home… I’m an atheist. It’s my own choice, within my own set of beliefs. But are there really people out there who think I want to recruit them? Like some sort of deranged missionary? “Euw, you believe in God? How gross. C’mon, believe in yourself, it’s what all the cool kids do. Don’t you want to be cool?”
But, because I am who I am, the part of this internal dialogue (monologue?) that really intrigued me is the etymology of “atheist.” Greek. A=without, theos=god. That part is totally clear. The part that puzzles me is the phrasing. I am an atheist. Not “I am atheist.” I am without god. I am an without god. I mean, euw, gross, what horrible syntax. But, atheist is a noun. Also, atheism is a noun. Atheistic is the associative adjective, and I think it’s clunky. -ist is a suffix that usually forms a noun, but can form an adjective. Sexist is, unfortunately, the only example that I can think of at this precise moment. Or rather, it’s the only example that the OAD can give me right now, because I am too tired to think of even one.
And whether you’re Christian, or Muslim, or Hindu, or Buddhist, or Jewish, or Wiccan… I don’t really care what theistic or non-theistic beliefs you hold dear.** Your beliefs are precious to you, and you can keep them. Just as I’ll keep mine right here in this pocket, and oh, look, a dollar! Bonus!
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So anyway. I joined Brightkite and thirty-something bloggers. Because yeah, I have time for more social networking. HOW do you ladies do it?
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*If anybody can explain this, please do.
**Except maybe for those people who believe that certain celebrities (and many non-celebs) are actually lizards. Yeah, I do have a bit of a problem with that. If you’re one of those people, and you read my blog, you may now boycott me. I understand.
I had a cohesive idea
But I forgot what it was. So, more icebox cake:
My dad is popping up for an impromptu visit this weekend. HOORAY!!! I cannot begin to explain in words how much I love my father. Anyone who has seen the two of us together will attest to the fact that I am essentially a clone of him, albeit with a significant chromosomal difference. Yes, yes, I understand the DNA similarities make me a sort of clone anyway… oh, forget it. Just know that, during an iChat discussion he and I had today regarding historically accurate use of typefaces, he took a moment to correct my use of “infer” when what I really meant was “imply.” Yeah, I think that sums it up rather neatly. As Mandy once put it, “Does the apple even fall from the tree?”
Anyone (Alison) worrying how this will effect my attendance at Gears, Grease and Guitars this weekend… it shouldn’t. I may be late, though.
I’m very much looking forward to joining Villanovababy, Greeblemonkey, InherentPassion and ImaginaryBinky for dinner this week. Ohmigod, does this make me a blogger?
This article about elevators is actually fascinating, but if you can’t bear to read all eight pages, then you owe it to yourself to at least watch the horrifying/compelling video. Which will only make you want to go back and read the article, so really, you may as well start there in the first place. My favorite excerpt:
… elevator manufacturers have sought to trick the passengers into thinking they’re driving the conveyance. In most elevators, at least in any built or installed since the early nineties, the door-close button doesn’t work. It is there mainly to make you think it works. (It does work if, say, a fireman needs to take control. But you need a key, and a fire, to do that.) Once you know this, it can be illuminating to watch people compulsively press the door-close button. That the door eventually closes reinforces their belief in the button’s power. It’s a little like prayer.
Until tomorrow, my children.
bad influence
The Girls “encouraged” me today to buy a black, sequined, spaghetti-strap, backless, floor-length gown. $99.99 online (bonton.com, Masquerade 399517), I bought it at Ross for $24.99. Oh yeah, because that’s how I roll.
I would show a photo here, but WordPress “updated” their system, and now I can’t figure out how to add images to my post.
long weekend
To be precise, my weekend was the standard-issue, two-day length. It began for me after work on Friday, when I shampooed my carpets in preparation for dinner guests on Sunday. My carpet cleaner doesn’t have its own heating element, and relies on hot tap water for its cleaning power. I thought that heating water in my electric tea kettle instead was a brilliant idea! I poured the recently-boiling water into the container, screwed the cap on tight, brought it out to the cleaner, and couldn’t get it back into place. Hmmm… hey! The buildup of steam had expanded the container. I unscrewed the cap, and set the container aside to cool.
Half an hour or so later, I upended the container back onto the cleaner… but forgot to tighten the cap first. Dammit! Well, the carpet was going to get wet anyway.
Scrub, scrub, scrub. Um, scrub. SCRUB! Damn, the “high-traffic” areas are filthy. I did the best job I could, but will soon hire a professional to do it right.
Saturday was moving day for my friends Megan & Joe. After hearing the panic in Megan’s voice during an early-morning phone call, I headed down to their townhome just after 8am. Sui joined us shortly thereafter, followed by a steady stream of friends. Megan and Joe were fabulously well organized, with boxes stacked and clearly labeled, so all we had to do was stack them in the truck. And stack, and stack… where were they storing all of this stuff? Then it was time to drive the truck to the new house, and unload… with the contents of their little townhouse, we filled four bedrooms, the office, the kitchen, the living room, and the basement! I threw in the towel around 7, but others stayed until the job was done a couple of hours later. Many congrats to M&J; the new house is beautiful and has terrific mountain views, to boot.
This End Up.
I spent Sunday preparing my annual Feaster Dinner. Apple cobbler made with apples donated by Alison, Mandy’s mother’s carrot soufflé and pineapple stuffing recipes, warm Irish soda bread from my mom, mashed potatoes with turnips from Jessi’s kitchen, a final opportunity to hang out with Jackson, Erin’s younger brother… it was truly a festive feast. With Dave & Jessi and Tim & Erin all moving out of state this summer, there will be fewer and fewer opportunities to gather together like this. I cherish every chance!
And then I was officially pooped. I was eager to get to bed, but accidentally forgot to feed the cats… Rocket tried to tell me ALL NIGHT LONG but I didn’t catch on to why she was being SO FRIGGIN’ ANNOYING until I stumbled into the kitchen this morning. Sorry, kids. It will probably happen again.
shoes and pie 