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I'm an atheist who reads C.S. Lewis, goes on Buddhist meditation retreats and occasionally attends church. I don't see the contradiction, but when recently questioned about it, I had a hard time explaining my reasoning. I guess I'm an atheist who believes that wisdom comes from everywhere, even from philosophers who believe there's a big dad in the sky who watches over our every move. That's very creepy to me, by the way. Especially when I'm masturbating. Anyway, C.S. is the bomb. He used to be an atheist and his writing kind of maps out how he came to Christianity.
I went back and read my January 100 Words today. I didn't come off as whiny and pathetic as I thought I would, which is nice. There's this one entry where I have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about. I was worried that my month was going to make me look like a nut job, I guess. But it makes no sense. It is really strange. Does anybody else look at their 100 Words and wonder what the hell they were thinking? Writing this is supposed to make my writing "free-er-. Like stretching your legs before a 5k.
Zubeida wakes up in the morning. Her bedroom is simple and sparse. She likes it that way. Simple and uncluttered. She gets up and combs her hair. Then she braids it in intricate patterns and pins the braids to the crown of her head. She covers them in her most lovely, yet modest, scarves. Her father's visitors could only guess at the shining beauty of the dark hair hidden under her scarves. Not even her father would see. She imagined her future husband gazing on her during her morning rituals. She heard the bell and rolled out the prayer rug.
There's nothing in the guidelines that say we're not supposed to post links to other sites, but I've kind of taken it as a given that I shouldn't do that. I think that's more of a blog-kind of thing than a 100 words-kind of thing.
I've re-read the guidelines and I'm going to try and stick to the rules better this month. I did ok last month, actually. Even if I'm just composing my 100 words every day, even if I don't get a chance to post them, that'll be more in the spirit of the law. I'll try it.
I finally saw Troy last night. Now I need to re-read the Illiad. I think a bunch of things happened in the movie that didn't happen in the book. I didn't think Ajax died, and I know for certain Agamemnon didn't die. Maybe that wasn't Agamemnon whom Paris' cousin stabbed in the neck at the end? It was hard to keep the characters straight sometimes. Some of the story was left out, like the Trojan slave who unlocked the gates. The battles were satisfyingly brutal, though. Blood sprayed everywhere and a spear went straight through this guy's melon. Pretty cool.
Holey crap, out of nowhere, it's sweater weather! I mean, it was beautiful out yesterday, at least while the sun was still up, but this is crazy.
I'm having a cup of "dessert coffee"this morning, brewed by moi. I think maybe they meant "desert"coffee and I read it wrong. Nomads have to wake up in the morning, too, I suppose. It is very smooth, not very acidic, and does have chocolate notes when you add a little sugar to bring them out. But I would drink this neither with dessert nor as dessert. I'm hooked, though. It's scrumptious.
I read a lot of those pro-ana sites. I'm fascinated by them. They're all pretty much the same, but I can't stop reading them. Now I'm seeing eating disorders everywhere. A woman at the gym admitted to doing abs earlier in the day in the middle of ab class, after an aerobics class she attended. Ana! She must be burning the calories of the celery she had for lunch. My friend insists she's not starving herself but is avoiding all sugar, except coffee. Ana! She's probably only having a salad and a slim fast a day! Call the eating-disorder cops!
My roommate's loud-ass answering machine mysteriously turned itself up again. I told her it was way too loud and asked her to make it so you can't hear the answering machine message every time someone calls, but she says she can't do it. Now she's leaving the volume up instead of all the way down. So fucking annoying. It would be nice if the answering machine would disappear. And if she'd stop running the water in the kitchen and talking on her cell phone all loud while I'm trying to sleep. Why oh why can't I live on my own???
Back in elementary school, I was jealous of the Japanese girls' jade necklaces. Somehow I knew their parents gave them the jade for luck. Maybe I asked about them? It made me sad as a fifth grader that my parents didn't give me any good luck charms, or jewelry. My mom made me a bead necklace and bracelet for Christmas this year. She said she saw the beads for the necklace and she knew exactly how it should look. She made the necklace kind of long, but shortened it into a choker. The necklace and bracelet are both really lovely.
Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper is not any good. You have been warned. Vanilla Pepsi, however, is divine and addictive. How did I become healthy-exercise girl? I mean, yeah, I was always a little chubby. But I wasn't unhappy with it, not exactly. And when I moved and got all friendless and depressed that time, I did gain too much weight, and I was unhappy then. But I lost it. I am no longer satisfied with my slightly chubby body. Heck, I'm not even slightly chubby anymore. More like almost thin. How did this happen? I am a changed woman.
LeAnn Rimes has eczema. Dude, the teenagers here and all over the web, they have it together more than me, and I have just turned old. Where did my maturity go? I'm still drawing caterpillars in paint and sneaking chocolate like I'm about to get into trouble. No over-eating. No spending money. No going to bars in the middle of the night, because this city I now live in is Dangerous. I did not think my life was going to turn out like this. I keep expecting to turn a corner and become a confident, beautiful woman. Where am I?
I've always wanted to be a writer. No, that's not true. When I was little I wished there was a career where all you do is read. When I couldn't figure out what that could possibly be, I settled on writer. After that I dreamt of being a child psychologist or a professor. But I figured that I'd write on the side. There was never any doubt. I love words and to write. But sometimes I worry that I don't have a story to tell. I had a dream last night. And I finally have a story for my novel.
My cramps are killing me. Bitch magazine has an article this month about how reality shows never mention menstruation. What's up with that? I can't understand why it's supposed to be gross. I mentioned to some guy friends that I had cramps a few days ago, and they acted grossed out. Its not like I said I was bleeding like a stuck pig or something. And one of them said he didn't want to know about anybody's period, not even his wife's. That is so stupid. If something were wrong with my bf's balls, I'd want to know about it.
Zubeida sat behind the screen and listened to her father chat with his visitors. They put western music on. She leaned against the screen, bowing her head. A woman crooned, "I could cry salty tears/Where have I been all these years?"The men laughed. The teakettle sang. She served the visitors, and then hid behind the screen again to listen. "How long has this been going on?"Zubeida looked up and saw there was a big, framed painting on the wall of the edge of a cliff and water churning below. "Kiss me once, kiss me twice, then once more.-
Free will is what "make(s) love, goodness and joy worth having-. Look at the alternative - a world in which we already know everything - with no mystery - completely whole and good in and of ourselves, only drawn to others who would never cause us harm. Living in the Garden. Eve, the great pioneer, found it lacking. Essentially the story of the Garden of Eden explains why God created a world for us that is not "free,... with no possibility of doing wrong-. Adam and Eve had that perfect world, but the thirst for experience won out over the need for safety.
Sleeping in someone else's livingroom. Someone else's dog greets me in the morning. Waiting for people to come home, looking out the window at saguaro, barrel cactus and prickly pear by day and coyotes and javelina at night. No work today. No gym today. Just sun and coffee and waiting. The house is really quiet. I've lived in apartments for so long I've become accustomed to other people's noises. The quiet is weird. I should do my dishes, kind of to earn my keep. I hope I don't gain a lot of weight this week. There is dog hair everywhere.
Zubeida held the battery-powered radio up to her ear like a pink and white seashell, but what she heard was continuous pop hits instead of the ocean. People moaned, groaned, keened and wailed to her about their love and their sadness. Zubeida heard the servants in the kitchen, the pots clanging rhythmically. She absently twirled the hem of her dress around her finger. The songs were in Tamil, but she could understand enough to follow along. She heard her father coughing in his bedroom. A tune started up that she had heard several times before. Zubeida began to hum along.
I stole cd's from one of my ex's. I took them to make copies, but then he e-mailed me that he was seeing his ex-girlfriend again. I didn't bother to contact him again and I kept the cd's. A year later, about two weeks ago, he e-mailed me to see how I'm doing and to tell me he's having a baby with the once ex-girlfriend. Is it just me, or is that weird?
I had a dream that I was back in high school, only the people I work with were the students. I've never had relationships this antagonistic before.
My friend has an mp3 of a Prince and the Revolution song, "money don't matter 2 night-, and I can hear the pops and clicks of vinyl. Did someone play their record player really loud into their computer and hit record? It is neat to listen to. This house pops and clicks, too. I am in the house alone in the desert, waiting for my friends to get off work so I can eat dinner. I'm a little creeped out. I found a pair of sunglasses with little silver dragonflies on them. I'm going for a walk in the sun.
I'm reading "Sons and Lovers"by Lawrence and "the Four Loves"by Eliot. They examine types of spiritual love. Lawrence is more focused on love that is carnal in nature, but it's striking how the books are more similar than dissimilar. I'd like to know about Eliot's life when he was an atheist. I know he wasn't a ladies man when he converted, but what about before that?
It is interesting to read ideas of love and sex, especially when you're not taking part in it. "I'm never going to know you now/but I'm going to love you anyhow.-
Day twenty-one involved coffee, I can tell you that much. Hot barista seasoned with a little of the snobbery I like, with a frothy wit. He's a tall drink of water and he works in the right place, both for me and for him. I bet the smell of the daily roast clings to his clothes at the end of the day, maybe his skin is a little fragrent with it. Caffinated baby powder. I wonder what color his eyes are behind those hipster glasses. I can't see them; he's too tall and I'm too short. Take me, coffee guy.
Feb in Arizona birthday month, hot like a betrayal, no celebratory snow.
I was just dancing around to Fiona Apple and the dog was very interested in that. Did I meantion my friends have a dog? She is very cute and is pretty much free of that icky dog smell. Sometimes she gets upset and tears things up. The most frustrating thing about it is you're not really sure what her motivation is. That is more frustrating than cleaning up after the destruction. She was wagging her tail at me a second ago, but now she is curled up asleep.
I have not been keeping up with my entries this past week. Because I'm on vacation! I'll write about it when I come back. Which means you might have already read about it. Holey fuck. I just now in the middle of writing this checked into 100 words to see my Feb status, and my Jan 25th entry is on the front page. That is wicked weird. I am "Featured-. I am a star, I say, a star! Hey, I dare you to feature this entry: shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck kill worthless parisitic babies. Ha ha ha! Anyway.
The Tucson airport was kinda crowded but ok. I got a window seat, which was nice. The airplane food - you have to buy it now, but it does taste better. The layover in Chicago was short and I got another window seat for the flight home.
I always feel disgusting after I've been traveling. I just got home and had some bran with peanut butter, molasses and raisins. Now I'm having a soda and watching Melrose Place. I have the place to myself at the moment. I wish I were leaving again tomorrow. This place is so stale and boring.
I'm tired and sad. I wish I were still on vacation. I like my job and all, I do. But I don't want to be here anymore. Sometimes I don't want to be anywhere. Other times, I read my cartoons and eat some food and I don't think about it. Or I read a book or whatever. But sometimes I can't stop thinking about how bad things get. So boringly bad. It isn't exciting to be doing what I'm going. I need another trip! I'm pretty cold right now, brrrr. It is almost time to curl up under the covers.
I made myself sick today, through not eating and sleeping all day long. I fell asleep watching tv and hurt my neck. Ugh. I'll try to leave the house tomorrow. I don't think I'm jet-lagged from the trip, but I sure stay up late. I'm not in the mood for boys or coffee or reading my book. I want to go snowboarding. Too bad my head hurts too much. I want to go back to the gym pretty soon, but I just can't today. It's a shame; it is so nice out. I need to get back on my meds.
1 I 2 thought 3 that 4 having 5 my 6 entry 7 on 8 the 9 front 10 page 11 would 12 get 13 me 14 lots 15 of 16 e-mails 17, but 18 it 19 hasn't. 20 I wonder 21 why? 22 Is 23 it 24 because 25 my 26 words 27 aren't 28 that 29 interesting? 30 or 31 do 32 less 33 people 34 read 35 this 36 site 37 than 38 I 39 thought? 40 I've 41 never 42 e-mailed 43 anybody 44 off 45 of 46 this 47 site 48 either. 49 Sigh. 50
I have a drip of soy sauce on my shirt from dinner. It looks like a footprint. It is so hard to eat only 1350 calories a day. It is very, very tough - do you know how little food that is?? I did it not too long ago - how did I do it!?! I can't do it consistently anymore. I don't drink regular soda anymore, I eat so healthy it is incredible. But healthy doesn't necessarily mean low calorie. I'm going to up my exercise so I can eat a bit more. As I get older I'll eat even less...
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