I know I am not only one who notices how lovely all of our headlines are, and how much lovelier they get with each passing year. "Record Number of Tornadoes," "War Debt in the Trillions," "Fires Heading Toward Nuclear Lab," "Water Becoming a Precious Resource." I am generally an optimist regarding the state of the world (I am sure that is a bit hard to believe considering my sarcasm, but it is true). I see the good, the honest, the inspiring, and find myself awed by how amazing the natural world and humanity is. Seeing someone hold open a shop door for a stranger, or seeing a child say thank you brings a smile to my lips. Hearing of the tireless volunteer efforts by those who put themselves in danger to help others (Doctors Without Borders, Red Cross, PeaceCorps, etc.) makes me proud to call myself a member of the human race. So why is it that I find myself unable to completely block out all of the news that wraps its suffocating arms around me, enveloping me in a confusing blindness?
I think it is important to keep my head out of the sand. I listen to NPR and watch the PBS News Hour (hell, I even pick up the Economist when I am feeling particularly brainy) and absorb the recent news and status updates in my quest to be a well informed. And for the most part, I am able to keep from letting the news effect my mood or outlook, but not always...
I just read an article regarding water and its increasing scarcity. I earned my degree in natural resources, I have an aunt who is a water conservation nut, so the concept is not new to me. But this article was different... it was written from a financial perspective, listing off the values of water over traditional investments (the main one being that it is required for survival- we can live without gold, we can't live without water) and outlining the very real threat to this resource all the while saying, "so get in there and invest."
Did the author not make the connection? Did he not see that it doesn't matter if you invest your money in H20 and become a billionaire, if a glass of water costs you a billion dollars because we mismanaged the resource and outsourced it to private companies (what do you think bottled water is???) then you still only get one glass of water. This isn't like oil, we cannot come up with a new alternative resource to replace the current one. This is it. We have the water we have, most of which is undrinkable salt water, we can't magically make more. Once it is used up, it is used up. Why oh why would you write an article that recommends investing in our downfall? Why not use that space to write about water conservation? Hell, why not just leave it blank?
Monday, June 27, 2011
Thank You For Calling XXX How May I Service You Today?
Oh my freaking god! I think I just called a sex line from work! Ahhhhhh!
It has been one of those days- you know that type, you spend all day on the phone with customer service and keep getting passed from one department to another. Worse yet, they don't even transfer you, they tell you numbers and you have to hang up and redial. Awesome. So here I was at work, doing my thing, addressing office issues with various customer service departments and I get- yet again- referred to another number. The woman on the phone said the number so fast I barely had time to even hear her. There is nothing unusual about the number, just your run-of-the-mill 1-800 number.
But when I dialed, oh god, little did I know I would be scarred for life! Who should pick up on the other end than a husky voiced recording of a woman asking me if I want to- I hang up the phone before the recording can finish. Whatever she was asking I really don't think they have enough brain bleach for me to scrub that memory away so it is better left unfinished. But now, of course, I am terrified that the work police are going to come arrest me. I can see it now, diligent RP working hard at her computer when the office door is busted down and straight-laced suits march in and haul me off to Bad Office Manager jail. Eeeek! It would be like the scene on Mr. Toads Wild Ride, where he is standing in front of the devil judge and sentenced to hell (I am not sure if this is accurate interpretation of the ride, because while fun, it never really made much sense, maybe I should watch the cartoon...)
I guess if you don't hear from me in a week or so, you will know what happened to me.
P.S. Shout out to my one reader from Germany! I don't know if you are intentionally reading this blog or if you keep accidentally stumbling upon it but either way- hi!
It has been one of those days- you know that type, you spend all day on the phone with customer service and keep getting passed from one department to another. Worse yet, they don't even transfer you, they tell you numbers and you have to hang up and redial. Awesome. So here I was at work, doing my thing, addressing office issues with various customer service departments and I get- yet again- referred to another number. The woman on the phone said the number so fast I barely had time to even hear her. There is nothing unusual about the number, just your run-of-the-mill 1-800 number.
But when I dialed, oh god, little did I know I would be scarred for life! Who should pick up on the other end than a husky voiced recording of a woman asking me if I want to- I hang up the phone before the recording can finish. Whatever she was asking I really don't think they have enough brain bleach for me to scrub that memory away so it is better left unfinished. But now, of course, I am terrified that the work police are going to come arrest me. I can see it now, diligent RP working hard at her computer when the office door is busted down and straight-laced suits march in and haul me off to Bad Office Manager jail. Eeeek! It would be like the scene on Mr. Toads Wild Ride, where he is standing in front of the devil judge and sentenced to hell (I am not sure if this is accurate interpretation of the ride, because while fun, it never really made much sense, maybe I should watch the cartoon...)
I guess if you don't hear from me in a week or so, you will know what happened to me.
P.S. Shout out to my one reader from Germany! I don't know if you are intentionally reading this blog or if you keep accidentally stumbling upon it but either way- hi!
Monday, June 13, 2011
A Thought To Ponder...
So no, this is not a new thing entry, but it is food for thought.
If my job duties require that I spend hours on the phone with customer service to ensure my office runs smoothly, then I have to come home and call customer service to ensure my life runs smoothly... will I snap twice as soon???? Drink that in....
If my job duties require that I spend hours on the phone with customer service to ensure my office runs smoothly, then I have to come home and call customer service to ensure my life runs smoothly... will I snap twice as soon???? Drink that in....
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Monkey See, Monkey Do
So I went bouldering for the first time today and it was AWESOME!
Of course it was a little awkward, like all new things. I didn't know what to wear and I had to rent my shoes because I wasn't about to spend $100 on a new pair when I didn't even know whether I would like the sport or not. And why, by the way, must rented shoes always look in such a way that they loudly proclaim, "I AM RENTED!"? Mine had an annoying, bright orange plastic tab on the back of my right shoe, and it served no purpose what so ever. Come on people, don't make my first time any more awkward than it has to be; I mean, my muscles already ache in ways that I didn't even know where possible, must we add humiliation to the pain?
My arms feel like jelly, I have a head ache, and my super soft feminine hands are now developing blisters and callouses. But it was worth all of that and more. The combination of using all of your body while problem solving to make it to the top, is like nothing I have ever done. I will be buying a membership to the gym and going several times a week...as soon as my arms can lift more than a pencil. ;-P
On a side note, in order to use the bouldering facilities, I was required to take a belaying lesson and test (because there is a rock climbing area within the same facility). I actually enjoyed this lesson and want to become more proficient in rock climbing as well, now I just need to find a climbing partner...
Of course it was a little awkward, like all new things. I didn't know what to wear and I had to rent my shoes because I wasn't about to spend $100 on a new pair when I didn't even know whether I would like the sport or not. And why, by the way, must rented shoes always look in such a way that they loudly proclaim, "I AM RENTED!"? Mine had an annoying, bright orange plastic tab on the back of my right shoe, and it served no purpose what so ever. Come on people, don't make my first time any more awkward than it has to be; I mean, my muscles already ache in ways that I didn't even know where possible, must we add humiliation to the pain?
My arms feel like jelly, I have a head ache, and my super soft feminine hands are now developing blisters and callouses. But it was worth all of that and more. The combination of using all of your body while problem solving to make it to the top, is like nothing I have ever done. I will be buying a membership to the gym and going several times a week...as soon as my arms can lift more than a pencil. ;-P
On a side note, in order to use the bouldering facilities, I was required to take a belaying lesson and test (because there is a rock climbing area within the same facility). I actually enjoyed this lesson and want to become more proficient in rock climbing as well, now I just need to find a climbing partner...
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Giving Blood In The Wienermobile
So, claustrophobic me decided it would be a smashing idea to participate in a local blood drive that was happening out of the Red Cross bloodmobile- or what I like to affectionately refer to as the Wienermobile. Now, to be perfectly honest, I didn't know it was happening out of the hotdog on wheels, I assumed it was in an actual building. Ha! Little did I know...
So after a 2 hour drive (this location was giving away nifty gifts as thank yous- free access to Rose Festival events, private tours, etc.) I found the location. After walking into the building to sign the paperwork and read the mandated reading, they point me back outside to the Twinkie bus. Oh joys. When I enter said bus, they proceeded to enclose me in what I can only describe as a renovated bathroom that was now a "intake room". Why the small room you ask? Well apparently they needed to give me complete privacy while asking me about my blood history... never mind the 2 inch crack between the door and the floor, I am sure it was totally private. I mean, really? They should let participants waiver their right to privacy and leave that damn door open, that room was not only small and getting smaller by the moment, but it was HOT!
After an eternal 10 minutes I finally got out and was laid down on one of their 4 donating beds. The nurse hooked me up and ran the tubing down the length of my lower arm to the bag on the floor. I never liked this, something about the tube, that is warm with my blood, tracing my arm is kinda weird. After it was all done they directed me to the snack area, which was exactly 1.5 steps from where I was laying. I turned down the offer of juice and cookies and opted for my water instead. As I sat there waiting for my ten minute recuperating period to be up, I tried to figure out if the slight dizziness and vertigo I was having was from giving blood or from the giant Twinkie (I get that way every time I am in a small-ish enclosed space). I finally decided it was the Twinkie and left, I figured it was worth the risk of falling on my face to get out of the little tin can. And whatdayaknow, it was the Wienermobile after all.
So the moral of today's story: always check to make sure a blood drive is happening in an actual building and not in the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.
So after a 2 hour drive (this location was giving away nifty gifts as thank yous- free access to Rose Festival events, private tours, etc.) I found the location. After walking into the building to sign the paperwork and read the mandated reading, they point me back outside to the Twinkie bus. Oh joys. When I enter said bus, they proceeded to enclose me in what I can only describe as a renovated bathroom that was now a "intake room". Why the small room you ask? Well apparently they needed to give me complete privacy while asking me about my blood history... never mind the 2 inch crack between the door and the floor, I am sure it was totally private. I mean, really? They should let participants waiver their right to privacy and leave that damn door open, that room was not only small and getting smaller by the moment, but it was HOT!
After an eternal 10 minutes I finally got out and was laid down on one of their 4 donating beds. The nurse hooked me up and ran the tubing down the length of my lower arm to the bag on the floor. I never liked this, something about the tube, that is warm with my blood, tracing my arm is kinda weird. After it was all done they directed me to the snack area, which was exactly 1.5 steps from where I was laying. I turned down the offer of juice and cookies and opted for my water instead. As I sat there waiting for my ten minute recuperating period to be up, I tried to figure out if the slight dizziness and vertigo I was having was from giving blood or from the giant Twinkie (I get that way every time I am in a small-ish enclosed space). I finally decided it was the Twinkie and left, I figured it was worth the risk of falling on my face to get out of the little tin can. And whatdayaknow, it was the Wienermobile after all.
So the moral of today's story: always check to make sure a blood drive is happening in an actual building and not in the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.
Monday, May 30, 2011
At The Risk Of Sounding Republican...
I feel that with my posts about religion and supporting the troops this blog could very well turn republican (EEEEEEK!), but I am willing to risk it today.
It is Memorial Day weekend, a time to get out your BBQ and dust off the pool toys. Unless you live in my town, then it is the day to dress warmly and pull out the old umbrella once again. But whatever you are doing this wonderful weekend, I hope that we each acknowledge, in our own way, the sacrifices given for all that we have. If our forefathers never sacrificed for that original fight (read the American Revolution) things would be drastically different. If the Civil War never happened who knows where we might have ended up. And so on and so forth, you get the picture.
Don't misread this, I don't support war as an option in the grand scheme of things, but the scientist in me- the one that has studied human evolution and behavior- recognizes that violence and war are a part of human existence. And until we are able to exist in a manner that cherishes all beings (plants, animals, rocks, the earth, and each other) war is an inevitable side effect of existence in my mind, and I truly appreciate those who have sacrificed so much for so many.
I went to a Memorial Day service at a local cemetery today- it happened to be at one of my favorite cemeteries, when I lived closer to it I use to walk there regularly because I found it comforting; yes I am weird, get over it- and it nearly broke my heart. Those that sacrificed were there to honor the fallen, but very few of the general public had shown up. There were so many war veterans and so few of those they sacrificed for I wanted to cry. There was actually a WWII veteran and despite being very old, stooped over, and walking with a cane, he rose and saluted the flag and the fallen men when the time came. The very few younger people that showed up didn't even place a hand over their heart.
So I guess my message is this, one day, in the not to distant future, we will be the older generation. We will soon be the ones that (hopefully) made the sacrifices that allowed future generations the luxuries we now enjoy. When that time comes, I sure hope the younger folks are respectful and appreciative enough to recognize it and pay tribute to it. And the best way to ensure that happens is to start doing it ourselves.
It is Memorial Day weekend, a time to get out your BBQ and dust off the pool toys. Unless you live in my town, then it is the day to dress warmly and pull out the old umbrella once again. But whatever you are doing this wonderful weekend, I hope that we each acknowledge, in our own way, the sacrifices given for all that we have. If our forefathers never sacrificed for that original fight (read the American Revolution) things would be drastically different. If the Civil War never happened who knows where we might have ended up. And so on and so forth, you get the picture.
Don't misread this, I don't support war as an option in the grand scheme of things, but the scientist in me- the one that has studied human evolution and behavior- recognizes that violence and war are a part of human existence. And until we are able to exist in a manner that cherishes all beings (plants, animals, rocks, the earth, and each other) war is an inevitable side effect of existence in my mind, and I truly appreciate those who have sacrificed so much for so many.
I went to a Memorial Day service at a local cemetery today- it happened to be at one of my favorite cemeteries, when I lived closer to it I use to walk there regularly because I found it comforting; yes I am weird, get over it- and it nearly broke my heart. Those that sacrificed were there to honor the fallen, but very few of the general public had shown up. There were so many war veterans and so few of those they sacrificed for I wanted to cry. There was actually a WWII veteran and despite being very old, stooped over, and walking with a cane, he rose and saluted the flag and the fallen men when the time came. The very few younger people that showed up didn't even place a hand over their heart.
So I guess my message is this, one day, in the not to distant future, we will be the older generation. We will soon be the ones that (hopefully) made the sacrifices that allowed future generations the luxuries we now enjoy. When that time comes, I sure hope the younger folks are respectful and appreciative enough to recognize it and pay tribute to it. And the best way to ensure that happens is to start doing it ourselves.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
To Be Rude Or To Be Sacrilegious...Decisions, Decisions...
Perhaps a little background would better set the stage of understanding for this entry so here it goes...
I was raised nondenominational-ish/christinan-ish/eclectic. I went to Sunday School for less than a year and haven't really stepped foot in a church since- unless you count touring the cathedrals of Italy. For the last few years I found myself tending more toward being an agnostic than anything else. I am sure there is something out there, and I am sure it is bigger than me, but I have a very hard time with the whole concept of God. I am a person who adores science and the whole process involved in explaining life's mysteries, the idea that there is some guy on a cloud above me looking down at me as I write this blog and eat my sinfully delicious key lime pie is a little hard for me to get behind. I used to get it, not to long ago I was at ease with the concept, but now...not so much. So in response to this lack of faith (can't really call it a crisis since there isn't really anything there) I decided to begin searching for a spiritual experience...and since I am horribly lazy as soon as the novelty wears off of any experience, I am searching in structured communities that focus on this kind of thing, from here on out I will call them religions.
My first step out onto this rather unsteady limb was with the local Universalist Unitarian church. It wasn't a bad experience at all, the people were very nice and friendly. They were all very careful to allow each member full religious freedom and incorporate everyone's beliefs. But because of this desire to incorporate all of it, I felt it akin to herding cats...or what I like to call a family reunion. I have grown up in a family where religion is not a common thread. With one Born Again Christian, one Mormon, a couple spiritualists, a pagan, one Jewish individual, and god (small pun intended) knows what else, my family could practically teach a class on world religions. Either that or be the starting line of a really bad joke ;-)
So upon realizing that I needed a bit more structure than the UU church I took up the quest once again, which brought me to the episcopal church. I specifically chose this one even though it was 2 hours away from my home, because it is absolutely beautiful. The cathedral has large stained glass windows and an alter that is truly breathtaking. I am a person who likes aesthetically pleasing environments, so the 2 hour drive was worth it...then again, when I am eating Top Ramen next week because all my money went to gas I might feel differently.
But I digress, today I went to my first episcopalian Sunday Eucharist. I arrived with plenty of time to spare- I didn't want my first impression to be the late girl who opened the massive and squeaky cathedral doors exactly during the wrong moment. I poked around the church grounds- beautiful, built in 1906- and talked to a couple of people. 15 minutes before the service started I took my seat. Now usually I am a back of the room kind of person, just in case I want to leave I can do so quietly. But this time I thought, "RP, you need to shake it up, don't be scared, get in there." So off I marched to the 11th or 12th row of pews (out of about 60 or 70) and pluncked my solo rear right at the edge toward the center aisle that headed straight for the alter (this is important so remember it for later).
I watch as people file in. Most of them are older, and I have to wonder, what will happen to churches (and religions as a whole) if the younger generations no longer attend church...? Anyway, I see each person bow to the alter (perhaps it was the cross on the alter, I am not sure) before moving into a row to take their seats (and each time they pass the alter). It is not a moment later when I notice that everyone has this handy dandy white booklet and I do not. Uh oh. Never good. So I try to nonchalantly look around to see where I can get one. Of course it is all the way back at the entrance. Great. I then spend about 2 minutes contemplating whether I should bow to the alter (cross?) when I get up before I turn my back to it and walk to the entrance. I have a brief image of the agnostic, new girl bursting into flames for she had bowed to the alter when she in fact didn't really see the relevance. Then again, if I didn't bow before I turned toward the entrance maybe the members would stone me. I finally decided to get up and bend my knees in such a way that could be interpreted as either bowing or my knees giving out. I figured that way I would be safe either way.
With my little white booklet in hand- which by the way is awesome, it laid out the entire service, moment by moment, so I didn't feel like a total idiot and remain seated when we should stand or stand when we should kneel- the service began. Let me say this, regardless of which path I may choose, the music and ceremony of the service is enough to make me want to go back again. It was truly amazing. The chior, the sermons, everything.
Now for the juicy part. Just before the service ended the attendees took communion. Which for the agnostic, germaphobic, new girl came out of nowhere. So the (ushers?) came down the center aisle and began dismissing one row at a time through the center aisle to go down to the alter, kneel, have communion, and then return back to their seats down the side aisles. You remember where I chose to sit, right? At the very edge toward that darn center aisle. I knew I should have sat in the back.
So I watch as the ushers get closer and closer to my row. I look around for clues as to what I should do. I felt it might be sacrilegious to take communion when I wasn't a member of this church or any other, had never been baptized, and wasn't even sure I believed in all this. Then again, if I didn't I thought it might be seen as rude and disrespectful if I stayed put. Now, let me interject here, I have only been to one other service where communion was part of the service. I was with a catholic friend, he was a member of the church, and the communion was optional- i.e. not everyone went down to receive it. Today was nothing like that, everyone went down and took communion, there was no way I could blend in with the crowd if I chose to remain put.
Next thing I knew the usher was at my side, indicating for me to lead my row down that darn center aisle to the alter. I decide to step out, allow everyone to go down the aisle and then take my seat again. It is definitely noticed that I didn't not participate. I don't think there was any disapproval, but I am sure there were some "What is up with the weird new girl" stares.
After the service ends and we are dismissed, there just happens to be a new comer meet and greet. So I pop my head in and meet the cutest older lady (shout out to Mona!) who, when she suggested I put my purse on the table beside me while I write my name card said, "Well, you probably shouldn't leave it there, lets be practical" and gave a little chuckle. BTW, Mona, if you are reading this, I think you are so adorable I could just take you home. I then proceed to meet the most extroverted introvert I have ever come across and a member of the church (is the appropriate term, clergy? She was holding up what appeared to be an important book and was followed around with a large cross during parts of the service, so I am pretty sure she was a priest or something along those lines) who popped in random conversation starters when there was already a conversation going on that had nothing to do with what she said.
So here I am lugging around my extremely heavy purse (I carry a large steel water bottle around with me), my long coat, a new comers welcome packet, and lord only knows what else, as the three of us try to carry on a conversation. The gentleman (the extrovert) was obsessed with the Myers Briggs personality test, he classifies everything according to that. It was actually quite impressive, I was tempted to see if he could classify how best to go grocery shopping based on the MBPT but decided against it. And while he was explaining to me that despite his daughters similar MBPT results they had a very different skill set, the woman was interjecting little spinets about her daughter studying biology in Australia... Needless to say, it was very hard trying to carry on two different conversations while trying to turn them into the cohesive discussion the two other individuals perceived it to be.
Oh yeah, the extroverted introvert had one eyebrow hair that was so long it fell in front of his eye and it was all I could do to keep from staring at it instead of into his eyes while he talked. The perfectionist in me really wanted to take a pair of scissors and snip it down to size, along with all the other extraordinarily long eyebrow hairs he had. But I didn't, I just tried to ignore it... Somewhat unsuccessfully, but hey, I tried ;-)
All and all, I really enjoyed the experience. I hope to go back, probably not next week (gas it still crazy expensive) but maybe the week after :-)
Until next time dear readers (all 5 of you)...
I was raised nondenominational-ish/christinan-ish/eclectic. I went to Sunday School for less than a year and haven't really stepped foot in a church since- unless you count touring the cathedrals of Italy. For the last few years I found myself tending more toward being an agnostic than anything else. I am sure there is something out there, and I am sure it is bigger than me, but I have a very hard time with the whole concept of God. I am a person who adores science and the whole process involved in explaining life's mysteries, the idea that there is some guy on a cloud above me looking down at me as I write this blog and eat my sinfully delicious key lime pie is a little hard for me to get behind. I used to get it, not to long ago I was at ease with the concept, but now...not so much. So in response to this lack of faith (can't really call it a crisis since there isn't really anything there) I decided to begin searching for a spiritual experience...and since I am horribly lazy as soon as the novelty wears off of any experience, I am searching in structured communities that focus on this kind of thing, from here on out I will call them religions.
My first step out onto this rather unsteady limb was with the local Universalist Unitarian church. It wasn't a bad experience at all, the people were very nice and friendly. They were all very careful to allow each member full religious freedom and incorporate everyone's beliefs. But because of this desire to incorporate all of it, I felt it akin to herding cats...or what I like to call a family reunion. I have grown up in a family where religion is not a common thread. With one Born Again Christian, one Mormon, a couple spiritualists, a pagan, one Jewish individual, and god (small pun intended) knows what else, my family could practically teach a class on world religions. Either that or be the starting line of a really bad joke ;-)
So upon realizing that I needed a bit more structure than the UU church I took up the quest once again, which brought me to the episcopal church. I specifically chose this one even though it was 2 hours away from my home, because it is absolutely beautiful. The cathedral has large stained glass windows and an alter that is truly breathtaking. I am a person who likes aesthetically pleasing environments, so the 2 hour drive was worth it...then again, when I am eating Top Ramen next week because all my money went to gas I might feel differently.
But I digress, today I went to my first episcopalian Sunday Eucharist. I arrived with plenty of time to spare- I didn't want my first impression to be the late girl who opened the massive and squeaky cathedral doors exactly during the wrong moment. I poked around the church grounds- beautiful, built in 1906- and talked to a couple of people. 15 minutes before the service started I took my seat. Now usually I am a back of the room kind of person, just in case I want to leave I can do so quietly. But this time I thought, "RP, you need to shake it up, don't be scared, get in there." So off I marched to the 11th or 12th row of pews (out of about 60 or 70) and pluncked my solo rear right at the edge toward the center aisle that headed straight for the alter (this is important so remember it for later).
I watch as people file in. Most of them are older, and I have to wonder, what will happen to churches (and religions as a whole) if the younger generations no longer attend church...? Anyway, I see each person bow to the alter (perhaps it was the cross on the alter, I am not sure) before moving into a row to take their seats (and each time they pass the alter). It is not a moment later when I notice that everyone has this handy dandy white booklet and I do not. Uh oh. Never good. So I try to nonchalantly look around to see where I can get one. Of course it is all the way back at the entrance. Great. I then spend about 2 minutes contemplating whether I should bow to the alter (cross?) when I get up before I turn my back to it and walk to the entrance. I have a brief image of the agnostic, new girl bursting into flames for she had bowed to the alter when she in fact didn't really see the relevance. Then again, if I didn't bow before I turned toward the entrance maybe the members would stone me. I finally decided to get up and bend my knees in such a way that could be interpreted as either bowing or my knees giving out. I figured that way I would be safe either way.
With my little white booklet in hand- which by the way is awesome, it laid out the entire service, moment by moment, so I didn't feel like a total idiot and remain seated when we should stand or stand when we should kneel- the service began. Let me say this, regardless of which path I may choose, the music and ceremony of the service is enough to make me want to go back again. It was truly amazing. The chior, the sermons, everything.
Now for the juicy part. Just before the service ended the attendees took communion. Which for the agnostic, germaphobic, new girl came out of nowhere. So the (ushers?) came down the center aisle and began dismissing one row at a time through the center aisle to go down to the alter, kneel, have communion, and then return back to their seats down the side aisles. You remember where I chose to sit, right? At the very edge toward that darn center aisle. I knew I should have sat in the back.
So I watch as the ushers get closer and closer to my row. I look around for clues as to what I should do. I felt it might be sacrilegious to take communion when I wasn't a member of this church or any other, had never been baptized, and wasn't even sure I believed in all this. Then again, if I didn't I thought it might be seen as rude and disrespectful if I stayed put. Now, let me interject here, I have only been to one other service where communion was part of the service. I was with a catholic friend, he was a member of the church, and the communion was optional- i.e. not everyone went down to receive it. Today was nothing like that, everyone went down and took communion, there was no way I could blend in with the crowd if I chose to remain put.
Next thing I knew the usher was at my side, indicating for me to lead my row down that darn center aisle to the alter. I decide to step out, allow everyone to go down the aisle and then take my seat again. It is definitely noticed that I didn't not participate. I don't think there was any disapproval, but I am sure there were some "What is up with the weird new girl" stares.
After the service ends and we are dismissed, there just happens to be a new comer meet and greet. So I pop my head in and meet the cutest older lady (shout out to Mona!) who, when she suggested I put my purse on the table beside me while I write my name card said, "Well, you probably shouldn't leave it there, lets be practical" and gave a little chuckle. BTW, Mona, if you are reading this, I think you are so adorable I could just take you home. I then proceed to meet the most extroverted introvert I have ever come across and a member of the church (is the appropriate term, clergy? She was holding up what appeared to be an important book and was followed around with a large cross during parts of the service, so I am pretty sure she was a priest or something along those lines) who popped in random conversation starters when there was already a conversation going on that had nothing to do with what she said.
So here I am lugging around my extremely heavy purse (I carry a large steel water bottle around with me), my long coat, a new comers welcome packet, and lord only knows what else, as the three of us try to carry on a conversation. The gentleman (the extrovert) was obsessed with the Myers Briggs personality test, he classifies everything according to that. It was actually quite impressive, I was tempted to see if he could classify how best to go grocery shopping based on the MBPT but decided against it. And while he was explaining to me that despite his daughters similar MBPT results they had a very different skill set, the woman was interjecting little spinets about her daughter studying biology in Australia... Needless to say, it was very hard trying to carry on two different conversations while trying to turn them into the cohesive discussion the two other individuals perceived it to be.
Oh yeah, the extroverted introvert had one eyebrow hair that was so long it fell in front of his eye and it was all I could do to keep from staring at it instead of into his eyes while he talked. The perfectionist in me really wanted to take a pair of scissors and snip it down to size, along with all the other extraordinarily long eyebrow hairs he had. But I didn't, I just tried to ignore it... Somewhat unsuccessfully, but hey, I tried ;-)
All and all, I really enjoyed the experience. I hope to go back, probably not next week (gas it still crazy expensive) but maybe the week after :-)
Until next time dear readers (all 5 of you)...
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