Rrrrambling

I'm grateful I have been given an 'out' of being in charge of the Paschal feast. I was told on Sunday that there will be a pig roasted (grrrr & vomit!) on the church grounds for the feast . It's one thing to have people bring their flesh all cooked, cut, and ready for the eating in their dishes but it is quite another for me to see such a wonderful animal in its entirety being roasted and carved. I don't *like* the former, but it's not as in-the-moment-sad as the latter.

Additionally, I'm struggling with why on our most joyous and holy of days, we celebrate with so much death. It's mostly a rhetorical struggle, because I understand that culturally (both geographically and religiously) that is just the way it is - my frustrations do nothing but aggravate me. I do pray for forgiveness of how humanity acts towards animals. That and being consistent with my ethics are the best I can do right now.

The whole thing has just added to the already growing concern about how much my Paschal focus is dominated by food. Without delving into all the issues, there is a strong pull on my heart that I really get serious about giving up the obsession with food. Do I trust God to provide my daily bread? Do I trust God to meet my needs? By what right do I hoard and keep that which I don't need? By what right do I live a life of excess and by default essentially steal from the poor? On Pascha, I pray I will be more concerned with the Resurrection of Christ than what's in the basket awaiting consumption following the liturgy - in years past that has not been the case, much to my sadness and embarrassment.

In light of all this wondering and personal wrestling, I've in turn wondered why I again offered to be food coordinator for the Lenten/Paschal seasons. Blessedly, someone who has coordinated in the past has offered again. He is much better at herding cats - I mean parishioners - than I am, he is much more assertive, and he's also going to be there already, as he's somehow involved in the pig issue (I could get a longer nap!!). As much as my ego likes to be seen doing things and working for others, the rest of me is more concerned with being at peace. And right now, being at peace does not involve me saying yes to something I'm struggling with on such a personal level. So tomorrow I shall call my friend who is the overall coordinator and tell her that no, I really really *really* super extra REALLY don't mind him taking over. I'm so thankful.

God is good.

Struggling

I'm wondering how to best approach Lent without being so focused on food. The fast is good and is needed. The obsession with food is not. Frankly, I'm already tired of the advice I hear people give about food, of the tricks we all use to eat well during the Fast, of the obsession on what is allowed and what is forbidden (all is allowed, nothing forbidden - we choose to abstain!). This no doubt comes partly due to the fact that I am the food coordinator for Pascha and have already had people talking to me about the Feast and Lazarus Saturday meals. It's also partly because Lenten food is easier for me than for many, as veganity isn't off my radar during the rest of the year.

More so, this comes from how obsessed I become over food - how much time I spend thinking about what will be in my basket on Pascha morning, how much planning I do to cook food during Holy Week, what I will bring to the Friday night potlucks and when I will be able to make the food given my hectic schedule.

I need Lent to be about drawing closer to God, delving deeper into prayer, entering into the 'tithe of time', to the Joyful Sorrow, to the Passion and Resurrection of Christ. I don't want to care about the food. Really. I. Just. Don't.

I want to approach the chalice with a healthy fear, with a humble heart, with the knowledge and belief that permeates my being of the reality of Holy Communion. I want to be filled with the love of God, with love for humanity in all its forms, with a repentant heart that yearns for forgiveness and the life of Christ.

Most Holy Theotokos, have mercy on me and intercede for me before your Son and our God.

zomg

So here I am sitting, avoiding responsible behavior and all of a sudden I realize I have the taste of Jack Daniels whisky in my mouth. I don't believe I have tasted of the forbidden stuff for well over a year and I don't have any sort of desire for it either. Weird. If I'm hungover tomorrow, there will be issues that go beyond the scope of my abilities to cope with such silliness.

On another completely off tune note, my hair is super silky and soft right now. All hail the power of Giovanni Nutrafix Hair Reconstructor. Muah.

Tomorrow scares me.

After Christmas sale item

So sometime after Christmas, I bought a tin of vanilla hot chocolate mix with a small bottle of wee mallows and a whisk attached. I know mallows are not veg*n but the bottle is real glass and that was actually what put me over the top of indecision. I think I spent $2 to 3 or so. Seemed alright because it was all so cute!

So today as I was freezing me toes, I decided to whip up some hot chocolate. I opened the tin which is a good 4" tall to find a beyond small bag of chocolate mix inside - barely enough to make one legitimate mug of hot chocolate. The original price of this item was $10. I have to wonder how many people who spent more than I did - or even the same - felt ripped off upon opening the tin.

Yet another reason to bash back the old impulse purchase urges.

With deference: won't be fooled again!

Sappage

ABC's Extreme Home Makeover has become a staple of my Sunday night. I don't know why I need to sob/bawl/sniffle/weep/etc. on Sunday nights, but it has become ritual. It ain't no Habitat for Humanity (in so much as volume of help offered), but they do good and I lerv it. I need hope and each week this show gives me a prefabbed dose.

No apologies.

You know you're not quite in the middle of the bell curve

When you read this statement and your heart jumps just a flutter or two because you know that this man is perfect for you:

I hate and distrust everybody because I'm a misanthrope.

AND he's a cat person! Couldn't be more perfect! Except for the whole distance - painfully shy - no good at flirting while sober type of thing on my end.

The Catholic Cat, leopard print, shadow dancing, and of course, much beer - I mean cheer

So I threw a party the other night for a good friend of mine. A birthday party over two months late. Long-short: turnout of at least 40, singing, dancing, LOTS of laughing, just enough celebration for 60 spins around the sun.

I'm tirty-tree years and I was the youngest of the bunch left at 3am when we officially packed it in. I swear the Lillet was unopened at 1:30. How did it disappear by 3? Someone shoot me if I ever ferget that Michael was 'altar boy of the year 1963 for the Seattle Archdiocese'. Zee Catholic Cat himself! Good times!

The best part of the night was watching the Mayor absorb all the love being dealt her way (neurotic self would not be able to handle it). She's a class act.

Big loves to you, Monica! JD sends a smooch as well. Heh heh!

Breathing is good

and should not be taken for granted. I am wondering if I have asthma or some such. I've been having a stink of a time breathing lately - almost went home from class last night because I was making so much noise hacking and wheezing. My pipes are definitely tender, sore and overworked - and the rest of me feels fine. I'm too scared to go to the doctor. I'm just going to keep my peppermint steam nightly and keep my syrups handy and try to work up the courage to ask for medical help. I wish I could be at an event tonight honoring Rosa Parks and Mrs. King but I had such a fit of coughing before I would have left that I decided to stay home where I could croak in peace - double meaning intended.

Gah.

On the up though, The Puff is back and is seeming very well. He fights me remaining teefs and nails when I try to give him his antibiotics. All is well when I can't convince him I'm right. My sweet little P. Awwww.

Sir Puffins

Is currently in kitty hospital getting some much needed work done on his teefs and gums. Our eight minute drive to the vet's office was filled with howling from both of us - his the standard 'whyareyoutorturingmelikethis' type stuff and me with the 'butiloveyouanditsforyourhealthandi'llcomebacktopickyouuptonightand
youwillbespoiledrottenuntilmyguiltisgone' kinda stuff.

I love that little one so much it breaks my heart to think of him being scared and away from his home. Gah.

Before we left the home, I held him at my icon corner and prayed for him, his doctor, Tiggs, Smoke, and myself. I made the sign of the cross on his forehead and gave thanks for all he is.

Then I put him in a box and took him to the car. I don't think he remembers me saying nice things to and about him during our prayer time. Comme ca.