Newspaper copy of late that would add fuel to the fire of my mom’s sentiment that I should “move home immediately” because my life, in New York City, is in grave danger:
The next time you have a coughing fit, it might not be the common cold, but the air you are breathing, at least according to a recent report issued by the American Lung Association.
The 10th annual State of the Air Report, released on April 29, found that Queens, along with the Bronx and Manhattan, are the dirtiest counties in the state for particle pollution. The study states that 12.5 million New Yorkers reside in counties where the air pollution can endanger lives. —“Bad air days: Queens fails a pollution test,” Queens Chronicle
The city is polluted?! I think I’ve heard that somewhere before… But this paragraph would really horrify the parental:
Astrology and Tarot cards are my favorite divinatory tools, but I also get a lot of use out of magnetic poetry kits, boxes full of evocative words and symbols in the form of refrigerator magnets. Sometimes, I’ll close my eyes, beam a question out into the ethers, and pluck a few magnets at random from one of my poetry kits. I just did that for you. ‘What are the keys to unlocking the enormous reserves of energy that are potentiall available for Aries folks right now?’ I asked. Here’s the message that came: ‘swooping orgasms & laughing tears.’ (Or it could also be arranged this way: ‘laughing orgasms & swooping tears.’) —Rob Brezsny’s Free Will Astrology, for the week of Apr. 22-28
I bring these articles up because I do have a bit of a cough. And moving home in the somewhat near future is a possibility. (Which tends to complicate orgasms, both swooping and laughing ones.)
The roommate and I decided to go to church today. It seemed like a good idea–it will make the Mom happy, it’s a step towards better integrating into the community, and those hymns can be damn fun to sing along with.
Those were the general thoughts, as opposed to ones like–I need to save my soul, or, I hear Father Kirkpatrick is a real fox in his ornate robe.
Anyway, it’s a beautiful church, but I don’t think I’ll go back. Not for any one reason, but just because it didn’t feel right. I felt like I was pretending, like whatever spiritual fulfillment I’m looking for would not be reached within those walls.
The sermon was about an Air Force pilot that uses his talents to draw Jesus’ face out of exhaust smoke in the sky. I had a little difficulty understanding the priest, but it was something along those lines. So all I could think was, that’s great, but he better be doing it on his own time… But not great! Those Jesus faces are killing the planet, one greenhouse gaseous cheekbone, eyelid, nostril at a time.
"Thou shalt not steal" photos from bizarre religious websites...
Before mass ended an announcement was made by a young girl, probably in her mid-teens. She informed us that 45 million fetuses had been “murdered” since 1973 with Roe vs. Wade. And to send a message to “the new administration,” parishioners were urged to sign up for an upcoming trip to DC on a free shuttle bus to a pro-life march.
I want very much to march in DC, but not at a pro-life rally. A free shuttle bus to a protest comes along and of course it’s for a cause I disagree with. So much for a generous God. But you know, here’s the silver lining–there is a new administration on its way in. So scary zealous pilots (like John McCain) can keep scrawling their crap in the sky. But I have faith that decisions for the greater good will be scrawled where it counts.
Posted in America, Culture, Life, Politics, religion, Thoughts, Women, Writing
Tagged abortion, barack obama, church, god, greenhouse gases, jesus, john mccain, pollution, pro-choice, pro-life, the air force
It’s 3am. I just got home from work. I’m sitting on the cot meant for camping that we makeshifted into a sofa, there’s a strange man’s sweatshirt suddenly hanging on a hook in our bathroom, and I’m eating crackers, slices of pepperoni, and orange-mango yogurt. Life really couldn’t be much better. Sometimes you just need a year or so to lead a lifestyle that some people would find terribly unappealing. Hence: part-time jobs.
The thing that’s great about part-time jobs is you get to do such ridiculous things and get paid for it (even if it’s not very much). Sure, no health benefits, no company car, no grueling 12 hour days, but for now at least, I’m happy with the decision.
Tonight I learned that there’s an HGTV show called Sleep On It about buying houses that uses Meatloaf’s “Paradise By The Dashboard Light” as its theme even though that song is all about 17 year olds having sex in a car (Girl: Will you love me forever? Boy: Let me sleep on it, baby, baby, let me sleep on it). Whatever. It’s probably the best duet ever along with Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes’ “Up Where We Belong.”
Al Gore didn’t even need to have Melissa Etheridge write a Grammy winning song for An Inconvenient Truth, he could have just used Joe Cocker: “Love lift us up where we belong / Far from the world we know / Up where the clear winds blow.”
Clearly he’s saying that love offers an escape from the gray wind that is smog in our polluted cities.
Joe and Jennifer making beautiful music.
Posted in Celebrities, Culture, Entertainment, Humor, Men, Movies, music, Random, Rant, Rave, television, Thoughts, TV Shows, Writing
Tagged al gore, an inconvenient truth, CBS, felicity, health benefits, hell, HGTV, iraq, joe cocker, keri russell, meat loaf, meatloaf, melissa etheridge, my house is worth what?, nyu, part-time jobs, pepperoni, pollution, pre-marital sex, scott foley, sex, smog, the unit