Hail Mary, full of grace

June 16, 2012

I have mentioned before that I am part of a choir at St. Thomas More Catholic Church here in Austin. Our choir director has decided that we take a summer vacation so we haven't had rehearsal on Tuesday evenings for 3 weeks. I feel like telling him how much he's wrecked my life by doing this, but I can't figure out how to do that without it seeming to be as pathetic as it actually is. I counted on those Tuesday evening rehearsals; they kept me going from week to week. I've decided that my life definitely needs structure or I lie morosely around my apartment or go out and spend unChristian kinds of money on food and drink – mostly drink.

It's just ironic that we were preparing for Easter at the same time that my CRHP team prepared for our retreat weekend, that I was working so hard for both of them and now they're both over at the same time. It would have been nice if they had been spread out a little.

Last Sunday evening Ren, the Muppet-like choir director, emailed us that one of our members passed away. It was such a shock; I kept rereading the email because I was certain that he meant that her mother had passed away and that I was simply misreading it. But, no matter how I read it, it always came out the same and I had to accept that one of my choir sisters was no longer with us. She was also a member of the funeral choir with STM and now they are going to be singing for her.

Ren wrote the email very late on Sunday and I read it Monday morning at work. I was a little numb for most of the day. I went by the church to talk to Ren and offer a hug, but he was off helping give mass somewhere. I felt lost, like I needed interaction. I told a couple of people and they were sympathetic, but somehow I needed something else.

So, I texted my CRHP brother, Bill, who is the facilitator for the new CRHP team going through formation. When I went through formation there were men who got together to pray the Rosary before our meetings and we began to make that an optional part of our meetings – come 30 minutes early and pray together. I had no idea that men liked praying the Rosary. I mean men in general. I would never have thought that it was something men did; I've always associated it with women.

I asked Bill if they still prayed the Rosary before their meeting and if I could join them. His answer was a simple "Yes and yes". He didn't ask why or question it at all; he just welcomed me to join them. Before we begin the leader always asks if there are any special intentions and I said 'for the repose of the soul of Regina'. A few people heard me and we discussed a little who she was, though none of them seemed to know her. But, we prayed. Over and over we prayed Our Father and Hail Mary and over and over men’s voices rose up in prayer asking Mother Mary to pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

When we were finished Bill walked with me to the door. He asked what I was going to do for the evening. Of course I didn't know. Make dinner, go to bed. But, I told him why I had come and he listened and I thanked him for letting me join them. There is something comforting about being with others that you know and praying the Rosary together. That was what I needed, and this is why I'm Catholic.

Rest in peace, Regina.

e A r n i e

Ask the Editor

June 11, 2012

So, I was writing a letter, listening to music and periodically cleaning/vacuuming The Room. (It's really coming along, by the way.) Anyway, I looked up a word on Merriam Webster's site and there was a video of one of my favorite words.

This brings up many questions. Does having a set of favorite words make me a nerd? (Not the contemporary-chic/computer-programmer/rich kind of nerd. Just the good old-fashioned socially inept bozewad.) How about if I stopped what I was doing, paused the music and watched the video? Did anybody else even know that Merriam Webster has videos about words? It's called Ask the Editor. My favorite contributor is Kory Stamper, but I like all of them. (The other two are Peter Sokolowski and Emily Brewster.) (Does having a favorite Merriam Webster Ask the Editor host speak poorly of my social skills?)

Anyway, here's the video that stopped my activities and rocked my evening.

Have a good night.

e A r n i e

A Succulent with Questionable Moral Character

6/9/2012

When I first moved into this apartment a year and a half ago a friend gave me a random plant that she had, mostly because her porch was overflowing. I put it on my porch and didn't pay attention to it and it's been sitting there, not really growing but not dying and we haven't really thought very much of each other, this succulent plant and I. Well, spring has come for the 2nd time since I've been living here and now I believe that my succulent is behaving inappropriately. I do believe it has grown a phallus. Please see the set of pictures below.

On a happier and less disturbing note, the begonia that my precious mother gave me last year is blooming. Actually, it has been blooming and I think this is the tail end of it; but here are some pictures. I didn't get many pictures of the foliage, but it is very full and clearly this plant is happy on my porch in this very spot. (Clearly the succulent is happy where it is as well, but I refuse to talk about that.)

If you visit please ignore the miscreant back by the wall. You really don't want to encourage that sort of behavior.

Thank you.

e A r n i e

Irrational Fear of Checking the Mail

Nameless told me that he had sent me something in the mail. I guess this means that I should probably check the mail today, so that tomorrow the mailman will have room to deliver it. I do believe it's been 3 weeks since I checked it last. And, if it weren't for this expected letter I would talk myself out of it for a while longer. Does anybody else have an irrational fear of mail? Is there a name for this? Is it an official phobia?

Yours very truly,

e A r n i e

Fuzzy

So, I was staying the night on Friday night at Nameless' house, watching the menagerie. Nameless was in Dallas, and since I pay child support for most of these animals it only makes sense that I'd be the one to watch them.

Saturday morning I woke up and took my medicines. I vaguely noticed that the pills were still in the daily pill dispenser for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and I thought that that would make it much easier to fill it up for the next week.

As the morning went on I began to be very angry at being there. I decided that it was probably just too soon after moving out for me to be spending time there. I was angry at everything he ever said or did to piss me off. I decided that I needed to head home, so I spent some times petting the cats and the dog, fed the whole crew and the feral colony on the front porch and headed out. Nameless had asked me if I'd give the dog a bath, but I decided that I could do it another time. I needed a cup of coffee and the Philistine doesn't even have a coffee maker in the house, much less cream.

As I was driving out of town I thought about filling up the car, but I was in too foul a mood to stop. Even at my favorite gas station on the corner of Main Street that sells the perfect Dr. Pepper. When I began to cry I had to really ask myself what the f***ing hell was wrong with me. How could I be so angry and so hurt about something that happened over a year ago and how could it still affect me so much? Then I started going over the morning's activities in my mind and I focused in on the pill dispenser. Like water running down the side of an overflowing glass it occurred to me that if the pills were still in the slots for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, then I didn't take them on those days. This dripped into my consciousness slowly.

I've mentioned before which medicines I take; I won't go too deeply into it here. But, I did mention the anti-bitch medication that I take, and one thing about this kind of medication is that there is a certain level of dependence that develops. What I mean is that when a person stops taking them there is a withdrawal, beyond the recurrence of the bitchiness the diagnosis of which was the cause of the prescription in the first place. In other words, I was turning back into a bitch, but this time an irrational bitch going through withdrawal. (This doesn't even address the possible adverse effects of not taking the other medication, which is mostly the source of the bitch symptoms.)

I kept myself busy yesterday; I nursed a coffee at Starbucks. I went grocery shopping. I made a marinara sauce and invited a friend over who is going through a particularly difficult time (a legitimate one). I invited Nameless and was surprised when he decided to come. I mean, driving 3 hours back from Dallas, then to drive another 30 miles for dinner is more than I expected. Not that I wasn't glad to see him. We actually had a lovely time and laughed and I felt better and hopefully my friend felt better.

Then today I slept until 1pm. 12:30, really, but I didn't get up and about until 1. I actually got up before 7am and took my pills, fed the cats their moist treats and then went back to bed. What's strange is that I picked up with the dream I was having right where it left off. It was a kind of mystery novel and it was probably brought on by the book of Victorian ghost stories I'm reading, but it was actually kind of fascinating.

I didn't get better until this evening when I met with some other friends and had a couple of beers. If I had known that drinking would actually make me feel better I would have done so much earlier in the day. (I had a couple of glasses of wine last night.) But, most of today was a fog, and I feel like I didn't get the day off and now I have to go back to work tomorrow and it's not fair, really.

But, it will teach me a lesson about cleaning, because when I cleaned my bathroom last I put the pill dispenser in a drawer, which is why I forgot to take them. Out of sight out of mind. I feel like perhaps I shouldn't clean any more again. Ever.

We'll see.

e A r n i e