Know Your Current Events: Pet Lovers(?) Edition

In honor of the Swine Flu not-yet-an-epidemic, I thought I'd bring you a Know Your Current Events for all the weird animal news of the past few days.

First of all, to all of you that are worried about your bacon at breakfast and your pork chops at dinner:

You cannot get Swine Flu from eating pork! It is a respiratory illness, NOT a gastro-intestinal one. Dumbasses.

Ok, moving on to more important matters...

First up, South Korean scientists have, through the miracle of cloning, created glow-in-the-dark puppies. NO. FREAKIN'. WAY. What kind of deposit to I have to put down on the next litter of Ruppies?! It's like having your very own superhero dog. "Oh, it's so dark and scary. Who will help us?" I know... my FREAKIN' glow-in-the-freakin'-dark DOG, that's who!! The scientist that made this amazing breakthrough said, "What's significant in this work is not the dogs expressing red colors but that we planted genes into them." No, what's significant is that you got a freakin' dog to glow without the aid of nuclear waste!! Finally, someone using their powers for awesome! I hope it's not like those glow stick things you get at the fair, though. Where the glow from the chemicals starts to wear off, and you have to put them in the freezer to keep them glowing for longer. Somehow, I don't think the dogs would last too long in the freezer.

Lots of dog-related stories this week, including one in which a couple's Chihuahua was picked up by a tornado and dropped off over a mile away (that's approximately 15 leagues for us normal-sized human beings).

::Takes off glasses, pinches bridge of nose.:: Where to begin?

First of all, if you had bothered to get a real dog, this never would have been an issue. C'mon... a Chihuahua? You don't even live in a city!! There are no space constraints. If your pissant dog can get picked up by a strong gust of wind and hurled into the woods, you have plenty of room for a medium to large dog! Second, what the crap kind of "display" were you erecting* that was so important it couldn't wait until after the tornado-inducing STORM. I get that tornados are unpredictable; they used to blow past my house all the time. But you're pretty much aware there's a storm coming before it gets to the tornado stage. Take your damned "dog" inside! Finally... a pet psychic? Really? You couldn't just put up flyers like everyone else? I mean, I'm glad the woman and her husband *cough... whipped... ahem* were reunited with their pup, but they could just as easily have sent their cash my way, and it would have helped them find the damn thing just as quickly. I think I just found my new get rich quick scheme...

And last, but certainly not least...

This is Mangum Rattlesnake Derby Princess Courtney Lewis, posing with the snake she just beheaded. That's right. "Miss Derby Princess'" sole duty is to behead the first rattlesnake of the festival. Now. I don't mean to be ugly. But... I think there's a reason she got chosen. I mean, what kind of beauty queen dreams of being the princess of a rattlesnake derby? And I wonder what the first runner-up is thinking. I mean, she's bound to have even odds of getting to take over the crown when Miss Derby Princess is unable to fulfill her duties, thanks to an unfortunate rattlesnake bite to the jugular. They should make a Drop Dead Gorgeous sequal: Drop Dead Gorgeous II: Snakes on a Stage, starring Kirsten Dunst and Samuel L. Jackson. Yeah... I'm calling Hollywood tomorrow. $$$

*Hey-oooooooooo

Rest In Peace, Maude

Lady Godiva was a freedom rider
She didn't care if the whole world looked.
Joan of Arc with the Lord to guide her
She was a sister who really cooked.*
...
And then there's MAUDE

It is with heavy heart that I write this blog post today. Yet another Golden Girl has kicked it. Born in 1922 as Bernice Frankel (and you thought Beatrice Arthur was an albatross of a name) in New York City, Bea Arthur was the much-beloved star of such old-person (or, iconically gay-take your pick) shows as Maude, The Golden Girls, and the Lucille Ball version of Mame.

Bea follows Golden Girls co-star, Estelle Getty, and is survived by Rue McClanahan and Betty White.

I think in the end, I would like to remember Bea and Estelle this way...

"Which one's Cheech, and which one's Chong?"

*Update (04/28/2009): It just occurs to me that this song lyric is totally twisted. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake by the English in 1431, during the Hundred Years' War. She, in fact, "really cooked." You should be ashamed of yourselves Marilyn and Alan Bergman and Dave Grusin.

Happy Administrative Professionals Day!

Yes, that's right. We can't call it 'Secretaries Day' any more.

Oh, well... there were lots of other fun things that happened...

On This Day in History

On this day in 1500, Pedro Álvares Cabral became the first European to sight Brazil. Just one short year ago, Brazilian soccer great Ronaldo "knew they were prostitutes, but didn't know they were men." Mmhmm. In any event, to both men we owe a great debt of gratitude...

On this day in 1836, General Antonio López de Santa Anna was captured by Texan forces under the command of Sam Houston. One day after the decisive battle of San Jacinto, Houston's men found the cowardly Santa Anna, on the run, and wearing women's underwear. Well, I guess technically he was just wearing silk boxers, but you know how they are down in Texas. Thus began Texas' [brief] period of independence, and simultaneously its obnoxious superiority complex.

Well, that's it for April 22 in history... Happy Earth Day!!

Cake is Supposed to be Moist (::shudder::)

It's Thursday, so that means it's time for....

Know Your Current Events!

First up this week: a disgusting old piece of cake. What's that? Oh... excuse me... a disgusting antique piece of cake. Aren't you supposed to keep the top tier and eat it on your first anniversary? Isn't that how that old tradition (i.e. superstition) goes? I have never heard of saving a piece of wedding cake, so that it can outlast you and your spouse, and be passed down for generations, only to be sold at auction by Sotheby's. Way to go Princess Louise. I thought the Victorians were supposed to be on top of such things. This hunk of sweet is 138 years old! I don't even want to think what that must look/smell/taste like. "'We advise them not to eat a 138-year-old piece of cake," said Amy Kiernan, a spokeswoman for the fair." Seriously?? Do you think anyone would actually want to eat that? Gross. I wonder if it was decorated using the Wilton® method...

Next, a man in Fort Smith, AR crashed his truck through the gates of the local airport and made his way toward an airplane. It seems that he was planning on flying a Cessna all the way to Israel, because he "had all the answers." Apparently not, otherwise he might have thought better of flying a plane that was missing a key piece of equipment. Like propellers. I love that the police charged him with felony Criminal Mischief and misdemeanor Criminal Trespass. Really, he should have been charged with being a complete nutcase. I guess Sebastian County doesn't really have the resources for that. But then again, to an Arkansan (or any of us from the Deep South, really), it doesn't seem insane at all to come across a crazed white man waving a Bible who claims to have all the answers...

And finally, a nod to overnight world Internet sensation Frumpzilla.... err... I mean... Susan Boyle. Now, I know what you're thinking: "Don't make fun of that wonderful woman. She is a prime example of 'not judging a book by its cover.'" And you're absolutely right. I admit, when I first watched her audition video on YouTube, I was expecting a Scottish William Hung. I was pleasantly surprised, as it turns out the whole world was. There are two things about this story I'd like to comment on. First, I find it absolutely atrocious that this woman has become a phenomenon, not because of her amazing set of pipes (which she clearly has), but because she is so completely plain, and a little bit awkward. Because somehow, talent and good looks go hand-in-hand. Heaven forbid a perfectly normal-looking person have something other than good looks on offer. My second comment on this story refers to her expression of surprise at the reaction to her wonderful rendition of "I Dreamed A Dream" (people tell me this is from a musical... I don't really keep up with such things). "'I'm gobsmacked, absolutely gobsmacked,' she told CNN on Friday morning." What the crap kind of word is 'gobsmacked'? English may be a living language, but I would sooner allow 'irregardless' into the OED than use the word 'gobsmacked' on a regular basis.

Somebody Call Guinness; I found the ugliest pants EVER

So, I was killing time after my lunch today in Filene's Basement (a.k.a. the most amazing store ever; designer clothing at bargain basement prices... I once got a $108 FCUK shirt for $17.58), and I came across these beauties...

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Are you sure you didn't stumble into the clown store?" The answer is an unequivocal "No." I do not like clowns. Never have. I would, under no circumstances, venture into a retail establishment that caters solely to their kind. Plus I don't really know why there would be a clown store in Watertown, MA.

No, no. I was in the men's department at Filene's for sure. Now there are a couple of things about this pair of pants that amaze me (at least I think that's what they do to me; they may also have caused me to have a small seizure that I only mistook for amazement):

First of all, they are manufactured by Vineyard Vines. Vineyard Vines is a retailer located on Martha's Vineyard (duh), which has a monopoly on the fugliest color of fabric in the known universe. They are also the most expensive clothier on the island (unless you count the gift shops in Oak Bluffs, and I don't). Who in the name of crap is going to buy these for their vacay on THE VINEYARD?? Nobody's that drunk.

Second, in addition to their garish checkerboard-harlequin-whatever-the-crap-it-is pattern, they are also made of corduroy. From a distance, I thought they might be pants suitable for a round of golf at a posh Cape Cod country club. Upon closer inspection, however, I noted that they are in fact intended for winter wear. WHO THE CRAP IS GOING TO BUY CORDUROY GOLF PANTS?!?!

Next, these pants were waist size 40 (40, people! F-O-R-T-Y!). AND they were the only ones left. I can only deduce that there was once an entire rack full of them at more reasonable sizes that they managed to pass off to unsuspecting vacationers (with more money than good sense).

Finally, the manufacturer's suggested retail price was ::drumroll please:: $135.00 (thank G-d we don't have sales tax on clothing in the Commonwealth!). ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?? $135 for that?!?! And guess what Filene's is trying to unload them for? Go on guess. I'll wait.... $59.99!!!!!!!!!

I mean, I guess part of me is just jealous that someone has made a lot of money off of something a four-year-old dreamed up during arts and crafts time. But one day I hope to be walking down the lane in Edgartown and run across a Kennedy wearing this very pair. I will take a picture with said Kennedy, and I will post it here for everyone to see.

What do Jesus and my Blog Have in Common?

They are both resurrected today!

Ok, cheap religious joke, I know. But what better day to bring back the blog than the Super Bowl of Christian holidays?

So I hope to be a little more regular with the blog (you know how I like to stay regular) from now on, and will be bringing back some old favorites like "Know Your Current Events," and even introducing some new features like "This Day in History."

Stay tuned...

"Exercising Restraint" in New Orleans

The House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church has issued its long-awaited statement in response to the communique issued by the Primates of the Anglican Communion in their February 2007 meeting in Tanzania.

I am saddened, encouraged and skeptical all at the same time. Saddened because I believe that the steps taken by the Episcopal Church in recent years have been steps in the right direction. As Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams has said, however, "actions believed in good faith to be ‘prophetic’ in their radicalism are likely to have costly consequences," and prophetic actions are seldom viewed by others as such in their contemporary contexts.

I am encouraged because, though the bishops' statement may appear to some a step backward, it is very much an expression of the commitment of this province of the Anglican Communion to enter more fully into the "listening process" initiated by the Windsor Report and the Primates' Meeting. One must recognize when discerning God's will in community, which has been a hallmark of Anglican tradition and polity, that sometimes the answer is neither "yes" or "no," but "wait." I think it is very important that the Episcopal Church remain part of the Anglican Communion, to safeguard the catholicity of the Anglican tradition. To that end, my experience of the Episcopal Church tells me that we should be willing to wait.

I am skeptical because I do not believe that those factions most disaffected by the actions of the Episcopal Church at General Convention 2003 and following will much care to change their positions. At its heart, this conflict is not, as I see it, centered on biblical authority (or more accurately, who can claim biblical authority) and it is not about the influence of "declining American morality" on the rest of the Communion. This conflict is about power. The movements by certain- shall we say "elements"?- within the Communion since GC 2003 have taken unprecedented and decidely un-Anglican steps toward centralizing authority in the hands of a few within the Communion, rather than allowing the autonomous provinces to govern their own affairs.

I fervently hope that I am wrong regarding this last point. Wouldn't it be a wonderful turn of events for those primates to recall their "irregularly consecrated" bishops back to their new home provinces? The bishops of the Episcopal Church have extended the olive branch on our behalf. It's time for those that called for these actions, who may or may not have believed that we would actually take them, to put their mitres where their mouths are.

From left, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, Mississippi Bishop Duncan Gray III, Louisiana Bishop Charles E. Jenkins, and New York Suffragan Bishop Catherine Roskam, address media at a news conference during the House of Bishops meeting in New Orleans.

Photograph by Matthew Davies, courtesy of Episcopal Life Online

Here we go again...

So today concludes my first full week as a graduate student at Boston University School of Theology. Now, by "first full week" I mean two days of class, and three days of doing a fat lot of nothing. Since I just got my last syllabus yesterday, and one of my classes hasn't actually started yet, I don't feel quite like the fat, lazy slacker that I probably should, but I do have this lovely sinking feeling that I have gotten myself into something that might be undoing.

Sitting in class did, however, feel very right. It's the first time in about 2 to 2 1/2 years that I have really felt like I was at a place in life that was where I was supposed to be. Then I came home and looked at my assignments, and looked at the application deadlines for my PhD programs, and my heart sank again. As a student in the Master of Sacred Theology (STM) program, I am going to be called upon to do quite a bit more work in some of my courses than the other students. I don't begrudge the extra work; in the end it will be worth it. But 16 credit hours, plus extra course requirements, along with 12 hours of work per week (I hope, I still haven't been able to get in touch with my boss about my schedule) is probably going to lead to a nervous breakdown. I have the distinct feeling that I am about to crawl into a hole and not emerge until classes are over. At least I won't be spending money.

On a mostly unrelated note, Wednesday chapel services are going to be interesting. The Episcopal Church and the United Methodist Church have entered into "Interim Eucharistic Sharing" (whatever that means). I think I came to the BU School of Theology not a moment too soon. We've got some liturgical work to do with the next generation of UMC ministers... ;^)

Happy Freakin' Birthday

First off, allow me to send birthday wishes to two of my favorite celebrities, with whom I share this day:

Rachel Bilson (of The O.C.) and my personal hero, Sean Connery ("Suck it Trebek.")

That being said, I am taking this, the 26th anniversary of my escape from the womb, to start up on the blog again. I have been very bad about it the last year or so. There's something about going to work all day and staring at a computer screen that makes me not want to sit at home staring at a computer screen. But now that I'm starting up grad school again, I feel like I'll have plenty to gripe about, and probably plenty of motivation to procrastinate.

Friday was my last day of (full-time) work, and I am looking forward to the next few days of having nothing to do before school starts. They threw me a pizza party in Arsenal Park to say goodbye, which is funny, because they're going to see me again in about two weeks. It was like I was going off to war or something. It was nice though, my very pregnant co-worker made me her famous empanadas, and gave them to me as a birthday present. Part of me is going to miss the "real" world, and all of me is going to miss the paycheck, but in the end I am very excited about moving toward my ultimate goal of doctoral studies and helping to form men and women for ministry.

That's all for today, I think. I have got to finish celebrating my birthday. I still have 8 1/2 hours to go!

Edge of Your Seat Fun for All Ages

You've played it before... ever-so-carefully removing a wooden block from low in the structure and replacing it on top. In college, we turned it into a drinking game: each block had some silly "truth or dare" or an amount of alcohol you were supposed to imbibe written on it in sharpy, and if you knocked the tower over, you had to kill your drink. Ah, Jenga... you've brought joy to umm... thousands(?).

As I was killing time on Amazon at work one day last week, I came across my next fictional indulgence: Lucky Dog by Mark Barrowcliffe. I love being able to preview the first few pages of the book before I commit to buying it. Granted, you can't always judge a book by chapter 1, but it at least gives you an idea. As I was reading the introductory pages of Lucky Dog, I ran across something that gave me pause, and is finally resulting in this post on the blog. The main character's mother has just been buried (earlier in the day):

"I could have done with a break that afternoon, from difficulties, from stress, from other people's problems and from my own. God, however, occasionally plays Jenga with our souls, seeing how much he can challenge the foundations of our beings before they collapse."

Jenga with my soul, indeed. I have always known that God has a very silly, sometimes twisted sense of humor. And I, having a sense of humor of my own, have come to appreciate God's little jokes. Unfortunately for me, my patience is wearing a bit thin. Most of it's in my head, I'm sure, but it appears that nothing in my life these days makes sense. Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing? Was it wrong to move to Boston? Should I have taken that middle-management gig at my office (...sorry... I just vomited a bit in my mouth... better now...)? Uncertainty... I hate it. It causes the OCD tendencies of my personality to overwhelm the rest of me. It makes me not a nice person.

I feel like this is the point where the only piece left to remove is one of the center blocks about halfway up the tower. *Tap* it moves a bit. *Tap tap* almost out...

I think I should switch to Operation... or Hungry Hungry Hippos. Then again, maybe Chutes and Ladders is more in my wheelhouse these days.

Alleluia! The strife is o'er

"Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away; for lo, the winter is past,

the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear upon the earth;

the time of the singing birds is come." -Song of Songs 2:10-12

I cannot describe to you how happy I am that it's Easter (aside from the fact that no store in the Boston Metro area has a single Cadbury Cream Egg and that it is supposed to snow later this week...). Normally, I love Lent. A strange sentiment, I know, but I think the introspective, self-examining nature of Lent usually suits me. But this year, Lent has been tough on me. Maybe it was a bit of Seasonal Affective Disorder wreaking havoc with my neurotransmitters or something, but life has been very dark for me these last 40 days (plus Sundays). Unfortunately for me, I feel like I fell into the trap this year, that makes an idol of penance. I got so caught up in my own wretchedness and self-denial, that I ended up throwing a month-long pity-party.

The term 'Lent' is from an Old English word for "lengthen." It indicates the lengthening of daylight hours that coincides with the buildup to Easter and spring in the Northern Hemisphere. As I walked the pilgrim way of Lent, I managed to ignore the building light, both figuratively as we approached the Resurrection and literally as the Vernal Equinox came and went. My own navel-gazing and self-indulgence (which is really contrary to the aim of Lent, isn't it?) prevented me from actually growing during the experience.

The good news is: I finally snapped out of it. It took my washing the feet of 1/3 of the Maundy Thursday congregation, spending the night in church and walking the stations of the cross with about 30 kids, and standing with my new friends as they were baptized and confirmed at the Easter Vigil to remind me what I was supposed to be doing all along.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!!

The Church's One Foundation

Much ado has been made recently regarding the Communiqué from the Primates' Meeting in Tanzania last month, as well as the draft of a Covenant for the Anglican Communion. I, too have been taking it all in, reading all of the commentary, trying to make sense of what exactly a Covenant would mean for our Episcopal Church, and for me personally. Whenever I hear the word 'covenant', I automatically remember my Baptist upbringing (funny that I don't think of the Abrahamic Covenant or the Mosaic Covenant). Following is the text of the covenant that I (unknowingly) agreed to when I was baptized at age 12:

Having been led, as we believe, by the Spirit of God, to receive the Lord Jesus Christ as our Savior, and on the profession of our faith, having been baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, we do now, in the presence of God, angels and this assembly, most solemnly and joyfully enter into covenant with one another, as one body in Christ.

We engage, therefore, by the aid of the Holy Spirit, to walk together in Christian love; to strive for the advancement of this Church, in knowledge, holiness and comfort; to promote
prosperity and spirituality; to sustain its worship, ordinances, discipline and doctrines; to contribute cheerfully and regularly to the support of the ministry, the expenses of the Church, the relief of the poor, and the spread of the Gospel through all nations.

We also engage to maintain family and secret devotions; to religiously educate our children; to seek the salvation of our kindred and acquaintances; to walk circumspectly in the world; to be just in our dealings, faithful to our engagements and exemplary in our deportment; to avoid all tattling, backbiting and excessive anger; to abstain from the sale and use of intoxicating drinks as a beverage, and to be zealous in our efforts to advance the kingdom of our Savior.

We further engage to watch over one another in brotherly love; to remember each other in prayer; to aid each other in sickness and distress; to cultivate Christian sympathy in feeling, and courtesy in speech; to be slow to take offense, but always ready for reconciliation, and mindful of the rules of our Savior to secure it without delay.

We moreover engage that when we remove from this place we will, as soon as possible, unite with some other Church, where we can carry out the spirit of this covenant and the principles of God's Word.

Now what this covenant does not tell you is that for violating any of the clauses, including the one about drinking (oops), the church may withdraw fellowship from you (a.k.a. excommunicate you). The draft Anglican Covenant also seems to indicate this in the last paragraph of section 6, but it is quite vague and open to interpretation (imagine that: something relating to the Church is open to interpretation). The member churches of the Anglican Communion will either decide that this means they can exercise their autonomy at will and say "I'm sorry" after the fact in some sort of open-ended "process of restoration and renewal." Or they will decide that other churches are in violation of the Covenant and declare them out of Communion. I think we did this once before in the 11th century, Western bishops excommunicating Eastern bishops and vice-versa. How'd that work out for us?

The fact that everyone seems to be ignoring, or perhaps just avoiding, is that this covenant is making a bold move toward centralizing authority in the institutions of the Anglican Communion. I don't want to go screaming "Fire" in a crowded cathedral, but this covenant makes me nervous. I am especially concerned with paragraph 3 of section three, which declares that each church commits itself to: "ensure that biblical texts are handled faithfully, respectfully, comprehensively and coherently, primarily through the teaching and initiative of bishops and synods, and building on our best scholarship, believing that scriptural revelation must continue to illuminate, challenge and transform cultures, structures and ways of thinking."

Frankly, I don't buy it. This clause is not allowing scripture to inform our ways of thinking, or change our cultures and structures. This clause is allowing authorized persons or groups to determine how the Church interprets its scriptures. Episcopalians expend a great deal of effort trying to convince themselves (I mean, ourselves) that we are "both Protestant and Catholic." The fact of the matter is, we are very much Protestant, catholic (with a small 'c') though we may claim to be. To relinquish our claim to an educated, well-informed and broad interpretation of Holy Writ is decidedly un-Protestant. Besides, if we haven't been able to come to a consensus about certain biblical principles at this point, what about this Covenant will make that process any easier, or lessen the tension?

The Archbishop of Canterbury noted in his address to the General Assembly of the Church of England, that in the current back-and-forth over biblical interpretation there is a danger of

"a virtual fundamentalism which simply declines to reflect at all about principles of interpretation and implicitly denies that every reader of Scripture unconsciously or consciously uses principles of some kind. And there is a chronological or cultural snobbery content to say that we have outgrown biblical categories. These positions do not admit real theological debate. Neither is compatible with the position of a Church that both seeks to be biblically obedient and to read its Scriptures in the light of the best spiritual and intellectual perspectives available in the fellowship of believers. And the possibility of real theological exchange is made still more remote by one group forging ahead with change in discipline and practice and [the] other insistently treating the question as the sole definitive marker of orthodoxy."

So, the question before us is: In the interest of maintaining the integrity of the Anglican polity, do we embrace the same sort of fundamentalism that composed the covenant above? Do we narrow our own vision of biblical interpretation to keep the other provinces of our church happy? Or do we affirm what we consider a prophetic movement, with a competing, but no less biblically-grounded approach?

I will decline to make suggestions on this point, since my opinion matters little in the grand scheme of things. I am content for the time being to wait and see what results from the conversation in the rest of the Communion over the next couple of years. I don't see how, at this point, we can return to our reliance on the Instruments of Communion, but I also do not see myself jumping on board with a covenant that will begin to introduce dogma into a traditionally creedal church.

Ice, Ice Baby

So, I probably should have entered this post a while back, but it just took me a while to get the pictures taken care of. Anyway the pictures below are my tires about a week after the Nor'easter. I know it doesn't look that bad, but the ice up to the rims begs to differ. Eventually, Julie and I will be able to drive again (Julie's my car if you didn't figure that out).

I really just needed a place to whine. I'm done now, I promise. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go dump a box of coarse Kosher salt on the ground around my car... again...

Hooray New England!

Snow Job

So when I moved to Massachusetts, I had assumed that my days of getting out of work/school because of a little snow were over. But then I experienced my first Nor'easter. So far, I gotta say, I'm not terribly impressed/awed/scared/whatever feeling a Nor'easter is supposed to inspire in me. Maybe it's because this winter has been pretty mild, and this is not a "typical" Nor'easter, but still I'm not sure what the big deal is (he said, tempting fate).

I understand that no matter where you live, when snow mixes with rain and sleet (or "ice pellets" as the Channel 5 weather guy calls them), it's bad news. What I do not understand is why no body bothered to plow my street this morning after the initial snow had already stopped. My morning commute was no big deal; Commonwealth Ave (see above) was pretty clear, albeit muddy and disgusting because of the sand on the streets. Every other street in the city of Boston was still laden with 4 inches of snow. I'm not really sure who decided it would be ok not to plow the streets... I mean, I know that you're not "used" to plowing the roads since it hasn't actually snowed in Boston so far this winter, but come on. You should be ready and raring to go!

Now that I've committed my rant against the snow plows to the depths of the Internet, I offer the following photo. It was actually taken in Saugus, MA. Clearly they were not on the ball either, such that the passengers of this bus had to push the bus out of the snow. Nice.

At Least I Know I've Got Options

So every couple of years I re-take the Belief-O-Matic quiz. It's not that I'm confused about what I believe or that I'm searching for a new faith, I just like to see what-if anything- is changing about my faith. Sometimes the results surprise me. The first time I took it, my number 1 result was Conservative Protestant Christian, somewhere around 70%. Not terribly surprising, given my background. I was a little surprised to discover that next in line was Reform Judaism... interesting. The last time I took it, I was finally a Mainline to Liberal Protestant, followed closely by Eastern Orthodox (what??) and apparently Bahá'í (really... what???). This time, you will all be pleased to know that finally, I have figured myself out. I am now 100% Mainline to Liberal Protestant. But thanks to Belief-O-Matic, if I ever have doubts about my Anglican-ness, I can always fall back on Quakerism.

I think my favorite part about my Belief-O-Matic results is the last three entries. It makes me chuckle a little to myself that I will stop believing in God altogether before I will become a Mormon or a Jehovah's Witness. I mean, you know how much I love the Mormons, but you've got to admit that's pretty funny.

1. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (100%)
2. Othodox Quaker (95%)
3. Liberal Quakers (88%)
4. Unitarian Universalism (78%)
5. Seventh Day Adventist (71%)
6. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (71%)
7. Reform Judaism (70%)
8. Bahá'í Faith (64%)
9. Eastern Orthodox (62%)
10. Roman Catholic (62%)
11. Neo-Pagan (55%)
12. Orthodox Judaism (53%)
13. Mahayana Buddhism (53%)
14. New Age (53%)
15. Islam (52%)
16. Theravada Buddhism (52%)
17. Sikhism (51%)
18. Secular Humanism (51%)
19. Jainism (46%)
20. Hinduism (44%)
21. Scientology (43%)
22. Taoism (42%)
23. New Thought (40%)
24. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (37%)
25. Nontheist (31%)
26. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (29%)
27. Jehovah's Witness (25%)

I Have Returned

Well, sort of. I have finally arrived in my new home in Boston, MA. I have limited Internet access for the month of August, but I will be posting as much as possible. So be not afraid... You will be able to read my ramblings again!

As I am wont to do, when I have nothing terribly exciting for you, I like to post a little Internet Zen for you. This should keep you occupied for a day or so...

Dance, Dance Evolution

I Hate the Atlanta Airport

Some rules to follow to make air travel pain-free for those around you (i.e. me):

Rule #1
Do not complain about the weather. Do not complain about the fact that your flight is delayed because of weather. Do not get pissy with the gate agents because the weather is inconveniencing your travel plans. The airlines (contrary to conspiracy theory) do not have control over the weather. Getting angry at the gate personnel does nothing to help you out. In fact, it makes you look like a complete jerk. Remove your head from your ass and sit down.

Rule #2
Listen to the gate agents when they ask you to do something. Like "get out of the way so that the people getting off of the plane can actually leave." Do not pretend to be so deep in conversation that you just don't hear them. Do not pretend to have been so deep in thought that you missed the announcement. Standing closer to the door doesn't get you on the plane any faster. You are holding up the process. Corollary: The agents at the gate are not lying to you when they tell you that there has been a gate change. The announcement (that was made 3 times), in addition to the signage at the desk, should be sufficient for you to make it to your new gate to bug someone else. Remove your head from your ass and get out of the way.

Rule #3
I know you're tired. I'm tired, too. We are all tired, and we have all been forced to sit in the Atlanta airport for far too long. It's loud, it's crowded, and we all want to go home. But you are a grown woman. Do not pout. Do not whine to your boyfriend in that infantile voice. Do not rub your face on his shoulder and ask him to make it all better. No one finds this cute (I guarantee that he doesn't). Remove your head from your boyfriend's ass and grow up.

Rule #4
It is lunchtime, and Moe's is very busy. I am at the register, paying for my burrito and excited that I will get to sit and enjoy my meal. But here you come and plant yourself at the last available table. What's that you say? Your husband is in line, so it's ok for you to sit down. WRONG. In the amount of time it will take your husband to get from his place at the end of the extremely long lunch line to the cash register, I will have eaten my burrito and be long gone. But now I have to sit in the terminal and eat it there because you're to lazy to stand your butt in line. Remove your head from your fat ass and go do some squat-thrusts or something.

Rule #5
Do not talk just to hear the sound of your own voice. No one cares that your mother's sciatica is acting up. No one cares how much a soda cost back in nineteen-aught-two. No one cares how cute you think that baby is (it is, by the way, one of the ugliest babies that I've ever seen). Please put your head up your ass just a little bit and shut the hell up. But not too far... I want you to be able to hear the boarding call when it's time to leave.

AutoReply: Out of Office

I'm in Boston for the week, so no posts until next Thursday. Have a great week everybody!

Congratulations Kyle MacDonald!

It started with this...

And ended with this...

In just one short year, July 12, 2005 to today, July 12, 2006, 26-year-old Kyle MacDonald of Montreal, Canada has traded his way from a single red paperclip to a 3 bedroom, 1.5 bathroom, 1100 square foot house. A link to his blog, One Red Paperclip, has been on my own blog for a while now, but since he has reached his goal... I will be removing it. But his feat will be immortalized in my archives forever (or until blogger ceases operating).

Kyle is almost 27 years old. He has been on Good Morning America, CNN, and as of today is a homeowner and honorary Mayor-for-a-day in Kipling, Saskatchewan, Canada. I will be 25 very shortly, and am unemployed, moving to a new town with pretty much just the clothes that I own, and no prospects. Way to make me feel like crap, Kyle.

But anyway, congratulations on your sucessful trades! I wish you the best of luck in Kipling... doing whatever it is that you will do there.

Happy 200th Birthday, Liechtenstein!

Nestled between Austria and Switzerland along the banks of the Rhine is the tiny pricipality of Liechtenstein. Created by Napoleon in 1806, the miniscule country will be celebrating its bicentennial beginning this week. Much like its neighbor Switzerland, Liechtenstein is a money-laundering Mecca, and has prospered since World War II as a banking center. But the reason I like Liechtenstein the most is that a mere 3 years ago, the constitution was amended to give the monarch (Currently Hans-Adam von und zu Liechtenstein II) amazing control of the legislative and judicial systems with little to no responsibility. Below is a picture of the royal abode. From it, one can see nearly the entirety of the country. Here's to you, Liechtenstein... May you have 200 more! Because your name is really fun to say!

(AP Photo/Thomasz Surdel)