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Take me back to the start
May. 8th, 2005 11:07 amFreshly showered. Clean.
I barely feel like I've had a weekend. I have had my hands full with family functions-- as an aside, Happy Mother's Day to all you mommies out there. I know mine was overjoyed when she found out her present was a 6-pack of Skindazzles bath bombs, or, as she likes to call them, "those neat fizzy things that smell like Pixie Stix!"
Every spare moment I've not had anywhere to be, I've been snoozing. I haven't been getting enough sleep as of late, and my body's letting me know it. Even a constant stream of caffeine has had little effect on me, and so whenever possible, I've been hitting the sack early. Last night, I was in bed by 10:30-- that's saying something considering I usually go to sleep at around 2am.
Yesterday was my cousin Julia's First Holy Communion-- my father picked me up at 8:30 am and by the time we reached the church, I was already mildly irritated. My father is terrible in the car-- he's an aggessive driver, and he doesn't understand that as long as we reach our destination on time and safely in one piece, there is nothing to get upset about. Those five minutes are not crucial. Every ten seconds, he insulted another driver or changed lanes. Christ. My father drives me absolutely insane-- he's one of those people who likes to bemoan how he's been wronged all the time instead of admitting that he's not perfect. Every time something goes slightly amiss, he's the first to point fingers at someone and then explain how none of it is at all his fault. For instance, at the church, we moved three times before the service-- twice because the place we'd chosen to sit was reserved in one way or another. We didn't know, but the regulars who did explained this politely enough, and so we moved. My father, unable to see things for what they were, instead grumbled the whole time about how rude it was that we were being slighted. Slighted? For christ's sake, man. This is not drama.
At any rate, the service progressed. Cute girls in cute white dresses, etc. The presiding vicar really struck me though-- he was very young. I'd have guessed 25 or so, at the most. He was obviously wet behind the ears, as he faltered several times, forgot certain motions. He was perfectly personable when it came to the children, but he lacked warmth, as though he were trying to cultivate that special air that sets a priest apart from his flock. You could tell by looking at him that he was a good person, someone who genuinely wanted to do right with his life. But I could also tell that being a priest was not his calling-- I don't know if he's realized it yet, either. It was more than just his inexperience, it was something about his nature in general. He seemed to me, from across the room, to be someone who needs to be more immediate in the world, and I suppose I don't exactly know how to put it. Forgive me, Catholics, because I don't mean to offend, but in my limited experience, the priests I've known have been warm, gentle, kind, but also removed, as though their spiritual experience has set them apart from the world in some way. This vicar seemed like he was waiting to dig his hands into the sweet wet earth, and though I have no way to back that up, it's just the sense that I got from him. I couldn't picture him remaining unmarried for life, or in pristine garments. He struck me as someone who has a more immediate ministry, something more connected to the earth.
After church, I did the hanging with the family thing. Seeing as how being around my dad has been irritating me to no end lately, I spent most of it chasing the kids around in the yard. I'm not your usual child-friendly type, but I was surprised at how much I was actually enjoying myself. The kids were disappointed that Mike wasn't there-- he was always so good with them, they loved him dearly. In a way, I think I was trying to make up for that absence. It's so strange. But there were swinging contests (I need to get myself to a really high swingset sometime soon-- swinging is freeing in cleansing in a way that few things are), and I beat practically everyone in mock-lightsaber duels-- huzzah.
As for tonight, Skyler & I are catching a movie with his best friend Scott and Scott's fiancée, Sarah. After that, it's likely to be an early night. My first final is tomorrow, and I am not yet sure of my work schedule for the coming week, which is book buyback week and likely to be extremely busy. I've got to set to work on packing as well, and weeding out everything that I don't need to take along with me. I can't believe it's almost over.
Amidst all of the frustration, I was however reminded that sometimes life is strange and beautiful. A peacock in the middle of a razed corn field, its brilliant jewel plume puffed. No one else for miles, just a solitary figure bright against the flat dry land. Contrast. That's what I saw yesterday, in the middle of rural Pennsylvania. Uncanny, surreal.
( BPAL, Lush, & Skindazzles chatter. )
There was an interesting thread on the BPAL forum-- what would a scent that is uniquely you smell like? I'm curious to ask you guys, since I don't really know your tastes all that well. For instance, mine would be:
Sihaya:: The open dune awash in moonlight-- a deep, rich sandalwood just touched with the dusty aroma of desert rose in full bloom. This earthy, sensual blend sweetens the skin just so with subtle notes of amber, patchouli, moroccan spices, a drop of stargazer lily, and a surprising note of ripe plum.
What would you smell like?
I barely feel like I've had a weekend. I have had my hands full with family functions-- as an aside, Happy Mother's Day to all you mommies out there. I know mine was overjoyed when she found out her present was a 6-pack of Skindazzles bath bombs, or, as she likes to call them, "those neat fizzy things that smell like Pixie Stix!"
Every spare moment I've not had anywhere to be, I've been snoozing. I haven't been getting enough sleep as of late, and my body's letting me know it. Even a constant stream of caffeine has had little effect on me, and so whenever possible, I've been hitting the sack early. Last night, I was in bed by 10:30-- that's saying something considering I usually go to sleep at around 2am.
Yesterday was my cousin Julia's First Holy Communion-- my father picked me up at 8:30 am and by the time we reached the church, I was already mildly irritated. My father is terrible in the car-- he's an aggessive driver, and he doesn't understand that as long as we reach our destination on time and safely in one piece, there is nothing to get upset about. Those five minutes are not crucial. Every ten seconds, he insulted another driver or changed lanes. Christ. My father drives me absolutely insane-- he's one of those people who likes to bemoan how he's been wronged all the time instead of admitting that he's not perfect. Every time something goes slightly amiss, he's the first to point fingers at someone and then explain how none of it is at all his fault. For instance, at the church, we moved three times before the service-- twice because the place we'd chosen to sit was reserved in one way or another. We didn't know, but the regulars who did explained this politely enough, and so we moved. My father, unable to see things for what they were, instead grumbled the whole time about how rude it was that we were being slighted. Slighted? For christ's sake, man. This is not drama.
At any rate, the service progressed. Cute girls in cute white dresses, etc. The presiding vicar really struck me though-- he was very young. I'd have guessed 25 or so, at the most. He was obviously wet behind the ears, as he faltered several times, forgot certain motions. He was perfectly personable when it came to the children, but he lacked warmth, as though he were trying to cultivate that special air that sets a priest apart from his flock. You could tell by looking at him that he was a good person, someone who genuinely wanted to do right with his life. But I could also tell that being a priest was not his calling-- I don't know if he's realized it yet, either. It was more than just his inexperience, it was something about his nature in general. He seemed to me, from across the room, to be someone who needs to be more immediate in the world, and I suppose I don't exactly know how to put it. Forgive me, Catholics, because I don't mean to offend, but in my limited experience, the priests I've known have been warm, gentle, kind, but also removed, as though their spiritual experience has set them apart from the world in some way. This vicar seemed like he was waiting to dig his hands into the sweet wet earth, and though I have no way to back that up, it's just the sense that I got from him. I couldn't picture him remaining unmarried for life, or in pristine garments. He struck me as someone who has a more immediate ministry, something more connected to the earth.
After church, I did the hanging with the family thing. Seeing as how being around my dad has been irritating me to no end lately, I spent most of it chasing the kids around in the yard. I'm not your usual child-friendly type, but I was surprised at how much I was actually enjoying myself. The kids were disappointed that Mike wasn't there-- he was always so good with them, they loved him dearly. In a way, I think I was trying to make up for that absence. It's so strange. But there were swinging contests (I need to get myself to a really high swingset sometime soon-- swinging is freeing in cleansing in a way that few things are), and I beat practically everyone in mock-lightsaber duels-- huzzah.
As for tonight, Skyler & I are catching a movie with his best friend Scott and Scott's fiancée, Sarah. After that, it's likely to be an early night. My first final is tomorrow, and I am not yet sure of my work schedule for the coming week, which is book buyback week and likely to be extremely busy. I've got to set to work on packing as well, and weeding out everything that I don't need to take along with me. I can't believe it's almost over.
Amidst all of the frustration, I was however reminded that sometimes life is strange and beautiful. A peacock in the middle of a razed corn field, its brilliant jewel plume puffed. No one else for miles, just a solitary figure bright against the flat dry land. Contrast. That's what I saw yesterday, in the middle of rural Pennsylvania. Uncanny, surreal.
( BPAL, Lush, & Skindazzles chatter. )
There was an interesting thread on the BPAL forum-- what would a scent that is uniquely you smell like? I'm curious to ask you guys, since I don't really know your tastes all that well. For instance, mine would be:
Sihaya:: The open dune awash in moonlight-- a deep, rich sandalwood just touched with the dusty aroma of desert rose in full bloom. This earthy, sensual blend sweetens the skin just so with subtle notes of amber, patchouli, moroccan spices, a drop of stargazer lily, and a surprising note of ripe plum.
What would you smell like?
