More Thoughts on Mississippi

I don’t go church.  I grew up in the Roman Catholic faith, going to church every Sunday, but I don’t go anymore, haven’t since I went to college.  Faith is a personal choice, and while I still have an inkling that there is something more to life than just what I can see and feel with my senses, I refuse to belong to any organization that needs a leader who is somehow closer to whatever is out there than me.  Take that Pope.

One of my favorite conversations I have ever had with my father happened the first year I moved to Cleveland.  My father had driven out for the night and we were at the bar talking during dinner.  He told me that people sometimes asked him if he felt bad that his children didn’t go to church (we were one of the larger more recognizable families in the church).  My dad responded with “All of my children are good people.  They have all made their own decisions and gone their own ways, but they are good people.  What more could I want.  If going to church has helped then to be good people then I can be happy about that.  But they’re good people.”

It made me happy.  And I’ve always like that my family went to church and still had its own ideas separate from ‘church doctrine.’

It scares me when bills go are put up to be voted on that people only support because of their faith.  It scares me, because it reminds me of Iran, or other middle east countries where politics and faith are crazy intertwined.  Why do your opinions and beliefs based on faith need to be forced upon others.

Anyways, I’m glad that the ‘Personhood’ initiative failed.  I’m pretty scared that the group that backed the initiative is saying they will try again, and that they are comparing the issue to slavery.

This quote on Huffington Post frames it amazingly.

“Maybe a pregnant women should get two votes, or maybe she should lose her vote and the fetus should vote, since she’s losing all her other civil rights,” she said. “Maybe we should do a mandatory sonogram of the fetus to determine if it’s Democrat or Republican? It’s all ridiculous.” ~Loretta Ross

Read the whole article here.

Anniversary

Whoa.  Didn’t see that one coming.  Apparently today is our one year anniversary.

So in honor of Sam and I’s one year anniversary here is a cute picture of Ginger.

Thank you

Thank you Mississippi.  My slight faith in this country not to fall to idiocy and crazy ideas has been reinforced.

Really, it would have been sad, no… scary if the ‘personhood’ bill had passed.  I think I would have had to avoid that state at all costs.  Not that I visit Mississippi often, but I probably would have tried not to cross state lines.

Also, Herman Cain comes across like a giant idiot.  “Democrat Machines” are responsible for his roaming hands years ago.  It is just sad.  Or when he defended himself by saying “Even my wife knows that’s not me.”  I’m not even saying he harassed any of those women, but when he retorts with “Democratic Machines” and a defense based around his wife knowing him it’s clear he’s hiding something.

Working it out

The piece of wood fell out of my hand today. That’s a big victory. And on my calf I can feel the sliver of wood working its way out of my skin. Its really weird to reach back on my calf and feel a spike sticking out of there.

Sam is currently eating a boiled egg sandwich of some sort next to me. Boiled eggs freak me out. They are just bizarre and smell awful. Extremely awful. Deviled eggs are even worse. Blerg.

Time for a quick story thanks to Rory’s Story Cubes:

In land just across the see was a sad man. He was sad for many reasons. Sad that he lived by a giant pyramid – it blocked out the sun. Sad that apple tree only produced Granny Smith Apples in his front yard – he like Golden Delicious. Sad that his house only had one fireplace – it was on the other end from his bedroom. The sad man had many things that contributed to his sadness.

One day he saw something didn’t make him said. A child. The child herself wasn’t all that unsaddening, it was her shadow that surprised the man. Her shadow was in the shape of a cat. How this happened the man didn’t know. Its not like the child was mishapen or anything. No, she was normal shape that’s for sure. But her shadow, it was definitely a cat shadow.

The sad man invited the child to have a picnic with him. He brought a basket full of peanut butter sandwiches to the park and they sat on a blanket near the old stone bridge. He told her of his old career as an actor and how it made him feel – sad. He also told her about how he used to be a judge in a small claims court – this also made him sad.

He told her how everything made him sad, except her shadow. He confided this in the girl.

She in turn told him a secret. The secret about her shadow, the L-shaped house she lived in and why she had no name.
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Not a bad start to a story, I feel like Rory’s Story Cubes is good for writing the beginnings of stories, which is probably where my strengths lie anyways.

No time for love

“No time for love Dr Jones!!”

I think that is my favorite line from any Indiana Jones movie.

I don’t have time to write a long entry this morning.  After exercising, showering, scooping kitty litter, and making coffee its time to go already.  I’ll pick up the slack tonight.

However, I woke up, unsurprisingly, with a song stuck in my head.  Its ‘The Hardest Button to Button’ by the White Stripes.  Good song to have stuck in your head in the am.  Gets me going with an energetic start to the day (that I’m sure will be ground down to nothing after arriving at work).

Wolverines!!!!

I carry a big bag around with me. Its a Jack Bauer bag. You know the bag he carried on 24 that magically had everything he needed in it. Except it wasn’t magic. Jack always knew what he needed going into a mission.

So I carry my bag around with me full of everything. My sketchbook, Kindle, extra pen or two, iPad, headphones, bouncy ball, ibuprofen and antacids. Everything I would need if I were stuck somewhere.

So on nights like tonight when I’m stuck someplace long after I should have left I have things to do. I’ve done several drawings, read a magazine I had with me, read a little bit in my book and now I’m typing on my iPad.

And the bag isn’t that big. Its a messenger bag. On occasion its heavy, but never big.
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For some reason I have a hankering to watch Red Dawn tonight. I’m not saying that I will, but watching someone scream “WOOOOLLLLVERRINES!!!” seems appealing.