Green Jello Hotdish

I’m sitting in one of the big chairs at Starbucks during chapel time. The people sitting on my right are talking about some girl who apparently is not a nice person. The people on my left are Scott, his girlfriend and someone else talking about life. Karina is MIA; I thought she went up to get a drink, but she’s not in line.

Down to just 17 days until my birthday! And only a few more beyond that until when I move. And that means that there are only three or so days to get ALL of my work done for the semester. Ack! With the Christmas Festival, DU obligations, the newspaper and everything else, I’m not sure how I’m going to fit everything in. I work tonight and tomorrow morning, but then I’m off again until Monday.

On Saturday, there will be a new computer in my life. I can’t wait. I’m eager to play with iSync and all the other fun things for my iBook and new iMac. (Besides the fun of having a system that is better able to edit video, do pro-grade design and the other things I do in my spare time.)

It’s just two weeks until the end of the first semester, and I’m still amazed at the high rate of cute boys in the freshman class. Sitting here is reminding me of that.

I’m ready to be done with Carthage. Just one big push to the end, now, and it will all be done. This place has been a huge influence in my life, and I will look back on it fondly, but for now the more separation, the better.

Off to Logic I go. . .

So I’m sitting in a big, empty, cold house all by myself. Of course, it’s nice because there’s no drama, no stress and nobody to bother me. But I’m bored, there’s nothing to do other than pack — which I so do not feel like doing — and I haven’t moved from the green couch in like two hours.

Going car shopping again tomorrow, after teaching Sunday School, going to church and laundry action at the laundromat. (If you say that “LAWN-drow-mat,” you sound more sophisticated.) Then I’m going to move some stuff to the storage locker.

I’m so far behind in all of my schoolwork, I really should be working on that, too. I will, probably Thanksgiving Day, because I don’t have anything else to do. But I am looking forward to sleeping in until whenever I feel.

That’s the update from the Choir House. Look for daily updates on the boredom that is this place with just me.

Alright, so allow me to step up on my soapbox. For the occasional surfer who comes upon this Web site that doesn’t know me, I’m very strong in my Lutheran Christian faith. I believe in historical-critical interpretation and that Christ’s actions and the manner in which we model ourselves following his example of unconditional love, acceptance, social justice and peace is of primary significance.

Those who know me would also let you know that when it comes to acceptance of the so-called religious right, of those individuals who employ a literal interpretation of all scripture, of those who cannot see past their own limited humanness to be open to all that God can be, of those who would use scripture as a club and to provide domination over others . . . I fail miserably. And one of those instances happened today.

Two people I know — two guys — thought it would be funny to pretend they were a married couple of sorts. Maybe I’m looking too much into this, or maybe I’m hyper-sensitive because of some things that happened last week, but I found it extremely offensive personally. Not because of what they were doing, even though it was insensitive, but because of what they stand for. Both are in the second category of believers and both have told me, either directly or indirectly in the past, they do not “approve” of my orientation and would have serious issues accepting my marriage to another man.

What makes it acceptable for them to joke about something so important, something they hold as so sacred that allowing others to express their love for each other because they happen to be of the same gender would affect their own opposite-gender marriages? The level of acceptance of homophobia in this country is downright amazing to me. I’m not saying we’re perfect in other areas, or that only GLBT individuals have a battle to fight. We’re still fighting the battle for full gender equality, racial equality, socioeconomic equality. And nowhere is that seen more plainly than walking down Campus Drive.

But it’s not as accepted. It’s not appropriate. People actually speak up when sexist, racist, other -ist comments are made. But acting out gay stereotypes? Oh, that’s acceptable.

A columnist in the Minneapolis Star Tribune wrote about the fallout of Canadian legalization of same-sex marriage. It’s been so engrained into culture that same-sex marriage is not welcomed, that few of Canada’s GLBT couples have capitalized on this wonderful privilege. And it’s just that — a privilege.

Because as we see in America, second-class citizens have no rights. And as Wisconsin lawmakers prepare to send a ballot initiative banning not only same-sex marriage but also civil unions or domestic partnerships, it is those same second-class citizens who will sit by the sidelines.

It is my hope and prayer that 50 years from now people will look back and discover the error of their ways. I hope that people will realize that the oppression they have exercised in the name of their religion is actually against everything they supposedly stand for. But I don’t hold my breath. Because, by that point, going down the path we are on, the world will have been destroyed. This wonderful gift we have been entrusted to preserve will have been destroyed by those same people who are the most vocal about maintaining the sanctity of marriage, the sanctity of religious expression and science education based on divine planning in schools, the sanctity of abstinence only.

The sanctity of blindly following a government which feeds lies and filth in the name of that same religion, a government which murders hundreds — sometimes thousands — of people a day in the middle east. The sanctity of preserving a criminal justice system based on vengence, not equality, fairness and rehabilitation.

For lack of examples to the contrary, this is what the religious right stands for. For these reasons, I must constantly defend my own faith to people who only see the most vocal, those who have perverted things to such an extent they are no longer recognizable. And it is for the same reasons why I question my own belief.

I just don’t get how it has come to this. I just don’t get it.

I love them! Sure, I spent $120 on “needless” purchases to get them . . . But it’s wonderful!

There is a strange orange truck going down my road. It stops in front of every other house, makes some weird noises, stays there for about three or four minutes then goes down another two houses. I just went outside, and it’s not doing anything. Nobody gets out, garbage/recycling day is tomorrow so it’s not grabbing any garbage cans. It’s got some arrows on the back directing traffic on either side of it, but that’s about it.

Only in Kenosha . . .

So I’m sitting here in the library in between the Aims lecture and Visual Lit, and I set my hand on my lap and got all paranoid because I felt something in my pants pocket. (Before the sickos continue, no, it wasn’t that.)

Anyway, I’m trying to decipher what was in my pocket. From what I could feel through my jeans, it was jagged and moved left-to-right, but wasn’t bendable. My first thought was one of those sword sticks from kiddie cocktails, but seeing as I haven’t had one of those in FOREVER, I ruled that out quickly. As I moved whatever it was, it clanked against something else that was behind it. Alright, so now I have two strange things in my pocket.

Keep in mind, this is occurring over the course of like three minutes, and I’m in the middle of the upstairs of the library and people are all around me as I’m looking perplexed at my pants.

Finally, the thought crosses my mind to stick my hand IN my pocket and see what is there. I’m sure everyone else has figured this out by now, but it was my KEYS.

Yup, that’s my day. I feel, once again, like I should not be allowed in the world on my own.

Other updates from the day: the Aims lecture was interesting, but horribly long and I checked out after a while. Started sleeping. The lady’s voice was soothing, so it was a good lil’ nap. My 8 a.m. was cancelled, so I got a little extra sleep today, which was glorious. Last night was the Up ’til Dawn thing, and I proceeded to send letters to everyone I could think of, which included each named mouse that has been at the house, dead childhood pets and the people who were sitting around the table with me.

OH! And then, if you wrote fifty letters, you got a Nalgene, which was cool. So I definitely wrote fifty and DID NOT get a Nalgene, because the bitch who was counting the letters wouldn’t give me one because she counted only 48. What the hell? I definitely wrote letters for the ENTIRE STACK that they gave me. Don’t give me shit because YOU can’t give me fifty letters in a stack. So that was two hours of my life that I’ll never get back.

On top of the security incident earlier. I HATE THIS PLACE. Only sometimes. I need a vacation. And Jack Daniels. And most definitely the male prostitute. Actually, if I could have a vacation that consisted of Jack Daniels and a male prostitute, that would be lovely. Unfortunately I’m broke, which rules out all three. And I don’t like whisky. Damn it all to hell!

Alright, the mice are officially breeding. I’ve seen three smaller mice today. Just sent an e-mail to Agnes telling her I’m not paying rent this month until they’re all gone. Drama? Yes. Did I start it? Yes. And guess what — I’m fine with that.

School is burning me out. Actually, the “extras” are burning me out. I have a CUSH public meeting tonight, which is great and I”m excited, but I really don’t have time for it right now. After that is the Up ’til Dawn letter-writing event. I’m only sending out a few letters, and I’ll donate extra money. I don’t feel it’s necessary to ask other people for money, when they don’t have chunk change just sitting around the place. At least not what they’re asking for.

The newspaper convention was great. Kansas City has been redeemed in my eyes. It’s really starting to clean up and look like a bona fide city. In a couple of years I want to go back and see what has been done. Maybe I’ll scratch it from the most useless place in the U.S. list then. (Then that will only leave Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas and Texas.)