Just Because

I would have graduated from seminary this year – had I not gotten divorced. I would have graduated next year if I had not gotten pregnant. I’m responsible for my own actions so I’m not sad that I’m not a pastor right this moment and that I probably never will be a pastor. I’m actually quite ok with all of that. I just know that being in seminary and wanting to be a pastor kept me accountable to my spirituality. I let myself go when I stop paying attention, where there isn’t anybody there to remind me.

One of my problems, which I might have mentioned before, is my need to perfect everything that I do. So if I plan on praying, then I need to be a perfect prayer. Of course, that is not going to happen. No one prays “perfectly”. There really isn’t any need to. But I want to pray perfectly.

So I don’t pray because it cannot be perfect. And I feel the distance between God and me and my consciousness and the world around me.

I’m also one of those people that need to fix whatever is wrong. So I called the senior priest at my church wanting to find somebody to talk to. When I had been in seminary I had a spiritual director and she was wonderful though this time I was determined to find somebody who would teach me to pray perfectly. Because I felt an immediate need to speak to someone I agreed to meet with him thinking he was not a viable option as a permanent spiritual director. And really, I didn’t think a man would do.

Maybe it will work out though. The conversation we had was wonderful. However, I don’t think he will teach me to pray perfectly. But that’s ok because I don’t think that is ever the point, regardless of what I keep thinking I want. Maybe it might not still work out depending on how our conversation goes regarding what I think about God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit. But for now, Fr. B seems like a nice, old guy that challenges me and makes me a bit uncomfortable with his piercing questions and honest opinions. And after that meeting I felt peaceful. Maybe I’m finally accepting the path that I am on. We’ll see.

I borrow friends’ cars when they go out of town. I have done this many, many times. I use the cars to go do laundry, go to the grocery store, commute, go to church, get around faster.

Well.

I no longer have the most recent car I borrowed. I had it for a day and a half.

Thank you, assholes, for stealing from a borrowed car. There is no way you could have known. Next time you break a window though, try not to get any glass on the car seat meant to hold an 18 month old child. It was very inconvenient to me to not be able to pick him up. Also, try not to break any windows on days that call for rain. It’s a rather shitty thing of you to do. Let me know next time you plan on stealing from me. I’d prefer to just leave the door open so that you don’t feel the need to break the window.

This week, Tomas had his first taste of real blueberries – well, frozen ones but blueberries not in a muffin or in yogurt but just plain blueberries. This was the result:

Look, Mom! Look what I did!!

Have you ever held it so long that you really, really had to go and could think of nothing else but going?
About halfway on my drive to school this week, the sudden urge to go hit me. It probably wasn’t as instant as I would like to think it was. But at the time if felt that suddenly my bladder stood up on my ovaries and made its presence known by saying, “Empty me NOW!!!”

Now, the subject of going has been on my mind because we are introducing “The Potty” this week. My child can now walk and while I am not forcing “The Potty”, it should be there so that he can sit on it whenever and display some interest in getting out of a diaper – because those are expensive.

Anyway, back to my bladder. Three miles later, I’m cursing at pedestrians and feeling my eyes cross from the little elves dancing on my bladder. I (finally) reach a bathroom – while a choir sings the HALLELUJAH chorus in my head- and I enter the stall and I GO. (Yay!!!)

So, ever since I was in 12th grade I have had an interesting perspective in relieving myself. When my health teacher was asked what an orgasm feels like he blushed and stammered out this bright idea: “You know how you feel when you’ve been holding it for too long and then you go, the sense of relief, tension and then letting go? Something like that… but better.

Well, ever since then I’ve just been holding it for FUN. It’s like a mini-orgasm everyday and I don’t even have to spend money on a vibrator.