Super Spiritual Sunday

I visited two and a half separate services with El Caballero yesterday, for a total of 2 sermons, three coffee hours and one and a half worship times.


I have a problem. I can't sit through a 30 minute sermon. It is physically impossible. If I am really disciplined, I can sit quietly and visualize complex geometrical topographies, or compose imaginary orchestral pieces, all the while looking completely absorbed in the proceedings. But if I have forgotten my ritalin, or just plain forgot to mentally prepare, then all off a sudden I find I have to move every part of my body, or tap or scratch my head or gyrate. When I go to church alone, I usually just make sure I have a pen and paper. I forgot that no one tells a stranger to "sit still." If I find I can't take it anymore, I can leave.



But now, I go to church with El Cab. Sometimes I suddenly find myself in a situation that calls for restraint and reverence. I might be stricken with a pen shortage, or unbearable gas. The priest might be saying something holy, the sanctuary might be small and the pew crowded. Wandering outside, or doing the Chicken Dance might be impossible. I'll try to contain the unbearable jitteriness into a leg, or foot, only to have it explode into a cascade of tapping. He's too polite to jab me with a pen, like the Pater used to do, but I can tell I'm distracting him.



I found myself in such a situation yesterday. A long service (but edifying!) coupled with the sudden onset of mind-searing boredom. I made a special trip to my car for pen and paper. I brought back a nice piece of typing paper that I promptly started tearing into an origami book. The tearing was too loud, so El Cab took it from to me to tear it silently, but he accidentally tore it in half. It took significantly more tearing (slowly slowly) to turn the precious fragments into smaller books.



I made two postage-stamp sized, eight page books. The first one I filled in the morning service. The second, we filled in the evening service. They are a combination of sermon notes, observational drawings and doodles.


Its the M!
I love church. I love the people. I love the spectacle. I love the ritual. I love the post-service socializing. I love the music. I love the Bible readings.

nb: That drawing of El Cab in the turban-- it really happened. We were driving down the street and he pulled off the scarf that had been a permanent part of his wardrobe ever since the temperatures dropped below 50 and declared that he was going to see if he could wear it as a turban. Sadly, he didn't leave it on long enough for me to take a picture. I had no idea how complicated turban-rolling is, he had a few false starts before it stayed. I feel sorry for men, if they live in the West, they have to be able to knot a tie, and if they live in the East, they have to wrap a turban or a sarong.

My Newest pet

kumbucha, originally uploaded by camille94019.

Growing up we didn't have pets (aside from some fish and a few snails). They are too much trouble, and they break your heart, my dad said. Plus, if we had a pet, we couldn't take any spontaneous camping trips.

This is still, generally, my philosophy regarding the domestication of animals. Which is why my little scobies are so perfect. They are quiet, they don't make a mess, they don't shed, they add to the economy of the house and they are cheap to feed. The little box of sugar I bought last month for $2.19 is still going strong. I can take as many spontaneous road trips as I want, and I know they'll be waiting for me, in their jars of tea, when I get home. True, they are no fun to pet (if you want to touch them, you have to wash your hands first, and they are slimey) and they are absolutely rotten at sharing empathy (unless your count their bubbles as little pockets of carbon dioxide caring).

Born Pregnant
This all started a few months ago when el Caballero began making noises about how he wanted to grow his own kombucha and at the same time my friend Liesa was asking me if I wanted to start brewing my own. I picked one up from her (it looked like a pickled brain), and carefully transported it to Bear Town and tucked it in. Soon, el Cab's started having babies, so I got one. They multiply like tribbles. So far I haven't enticed any of my friends with it (ew! it smells like vinegar!). Ha Ha, more for me.