Simple, not simplistic

Recently that is the theme of my thoughts surrounding religion. I have volunteered to teach Sunday School tomorrow and it will be the theme of my lesson (found here). In order to illustrate my point that the simplicity of the gospel is often attacked by simplistic thinking, I'm dying to use a quote from George Carlin. However I have this rule: "If you have to ask if it's ok, the answer is 'no'." So, I will not use this quote:

"Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told. Think about it, religion has actually convinced people that there's an INVISIBLE MAN...LIVING IN THE SKY...who watches every thing you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a list of ten special things that he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish where he will send to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry for ever and ever 'til the end of time...but he loves you."

Why so quiet, good Monsieur?

I'm not one to blog on political topics. In general I believe myself to be under-educated on all things financial and political. Recently it's come to my attention that I have got to be educated--it's the only option for survival.

Yes, I live in Montana and some of my best friends here are what you'd call 'survivalists.' They are convinced the country is headed to financial collapse and an unprecedented depression. I happen to have a friend in DC who shares their opinions--as you know if you're connected to him on Facebook and read his notes.

This type of talk overwhelms me to a degree I find it hard to express. I'm single. I have virtually no savings. Currently my only income is governmental. While I'm within a hairs breadth of finishing my education, it's not done. I have no food storage save what would last me about a week.

Thank God for my camping gear!

I can't help, surrounded by all this very logical talk of depression with which I happen to agree almost totally, but wonder how to improve my situation. And then be daunted by the answers I come to. As it turns out, I just need to follow the advice I've already been given and use what resources I do have to bring my house in order.

I think this is a time for faith and action. In order to maintain any type of hope for my future I have to believe that America won't become Zimbabwe and I have to cut what I can from my current budget and use it to prepare. It may not be all wine and roses but it feels so essential to be able to provide for my own little family of one that I can't ignore the call.

I promise the next blog will be more cheery. After all, we'll be bailed out.

*snort*

Damn Relationships

Tonight I was so close to sleep, so amazingly close. Drifting off, near 2:45, to the wonderful sound of near silence which was then shattered by a woman screaming. I mean really, really screaming. And running while screaming. I was so scared for her I called 911. The officers were on other calls and the screaming had somewhat died down by the time I managed to dial so the operator instructed me to listen for anything further and call back if we needed an officer. I opened my window and listened a bit more.

She was screaming to call out her boyfriend or exboyfriend or some other damn relationship. SCREAMING at the top of her lungs.

When relating the tale to Erin after all hope of rest was lost I added that I wished I had a gun so that I could have made her screams worthwhile. Erin said wisely, " i have often believed that air guns are useful for exactly this purpose."

Amen, sister, amen.

Fear and Loathing in Insomnia

Right now my cat is camped out on the ledge behind my laptop and my dog is laying on my feet. Both are looking at me with pleading eyes, begging for me to sleep. I agree that I should be sleeping but apparently the Universe has other plans. Also, every time I fall asleep right now I have crazy dreams. In normal people language, crazy dreams consist of something very odd happening while dreaming. In Harbour language that means you're running around a Old West town as a prostitute with your best friend, Indiana Jones and one of the Spice Girls. You're on a mission to save all literature. The mission depends on your ability to kiss as many people as you can without being shot by the sniper that is tracking you and aiming puppies with balloon-print collars in your direction.

No, I'm not even kidding.

And that was two nights ago. Last night was just too weird to even attempt to relate. Clearly I need more medication. And probably another seventeen years in therapy.

Many moons ago I promised Erin and Amber that I'd post pictures of my day out in Missoula. Normally they don't ask for pictures but, as we've clearly established here, I'm far from normal. One day a couple of weeks ago I was second-hand shopping. I discovered some curlers and thought to myself, "I'm now going to save energy by setting my hair in these every morning after my shower. How very green and retro of me!! Go me!" The next day I was anxiously waiting for a package that I knew would be delivered by noon and then I had to go *right* to the bank and onto some other errands. When I got out of the shower at 10:30 I thought to myself, "This is great! I have all day. I'm going to set my hair."

Yes, I really am that ADD.

By the time the package arrived and I realized that two of my worlds had collided, I thought, "Well, hell. I'm an hour and a half into this. I'm just going out like this."

Yes, friends. When you're single, jobless and socially backward you resort to curlers IN YOUR HAIR while you're in public. Let me be a warning to you.



And if you're really feeling amazing--you put scarves on to secure the buggers in place. And then you go to Wal-Mart and soon feel quite a bit better about yourself.



Can we just talk for a moment about how some day a prospective boyfriend is going to find this post and then send me an uncomfortable email? Don't worry. I'll just laugh. Exactly like I did all day walking around with those on my head.