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burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness
 
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Sunday, April 9th, 2006

Time Event
5:11p
[Thursday] Lenten Evening Prayer at Emmanuel Lutheran Church: The Promise of Seeing God
None of the usual folk could be there that Thursday, so we had some pinch-hit folks -- who had never attended, so by their own admission they were winging it.  Went fairly well, though.  And it started with a long period of silence, which I had much love for.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. --Matthew 5:8Collapse )
5:15p
[Saturday] v. secular
Note to self: If you want to get off at Hynes/ICA rather than the Pru, don't take the E Line.  Sigh.

Out of curiosity, when I came back to Park Street on the Green Line, I attempted to recreate what Cat and Kate did to come out at Downtown Crossing.  Turns out if you're on the Green Line heading to Lechmere and you get off on the right, where there's just that little bit, instead of on the left where there's lots of stuff, there are signs for the Orange Line and you go through underground and come out by the platform to take the Orange Line to Forest Hills (and if you exit to street, you're facing a huge Macy's ad plastered on the side of a building.




It's a shame polymexina couldn't make it to Voyeurs de Venus [which I hear is playing in Chicago -- flights are $50 on Southwest, the playwright quipped].  Writeups of that and Persephone to follow, eventually.  [I don't do that "I'm too busy having a life to LJ" thing 'cause I'm obsessive and need to document said life in LJ. Sleep, what?] I hear Kind Hearts and Coronets was brilliant.  [And someone was talking about Exonerated, from last year's New Play Readings maybe? which apparently is basically dramatic readings of testimony of Guantanamo prisoners, which I thought was interesting when I saw this post this morning.]

I really should get my act together to attend Christine Jorgensen Reveals.  I'm a bit regretful I never got to seeing Five by TennBoston Conservatory is doing:
April 7-9 (Friday-Sunday)
8 p.m. (Fri–Sat), 2 p.m. (Sun)
THEATER: Two Gentleman of Verona
Tony-award winning rock-musical based on William Shakespeare's play. Adapted by John Guare and Mel Shapiro. Lyrics by John Guare. Music by Galt MacDermot. Directed by Doug Lockwood. Musical Direction/Conducted by Bret Silverman. Choreographed by Michelle Chassé.
The Boston Conservatory Theater, $16/$14/$5
I really should see/read that play at some point, but it's only this weekend and I just don't feel like going out again tonight.

Boston Theatre Scene is doing a Rebecca Gilman [whose name always makes me think of Spinning into Butter and offbalance].

And looking at Boston Theatre Scene further, there is, always, more.  Hiding Behind Comets looks quite interesting.

Too much theatre.  And this is basically just Huntington/BU.  I haven't even looked at the Harvard Gazette listings recently or poked into any of the many other area colleges.




During Layna's party, the Smith contingent (me, Sylvia, Cat-from-Washburn, and Erika) migrated into Layna's room, which I enjoyed as large groups sort of leave me adrift.  Unfortunately, I had to leave right when Apples to Apples was starting (yeah living on the Commuter Rail).  This made Sean sad as we had good arguments last time.  Clearly when I get an apartment and have an apartment-warming party, a requisite is Apples to Apples and Sean :)

I got off the Red Line at Harvard and was going up the stairs and some guy was going up the escalator and he joked that he'd beat me and so I kinda jogged up the stairs and he beat me by like two steps.  When we got to the next set I pre-emptively started jogging and again he beat me by like two.  They were boarding the Attleboro but not yet the Franklin, and the next train after that is the 7:50a.m. to Worcester, so since he wasn't moving I knew he was taking my train.  We chatted and shook hands and he held mine for way long so I knew where this was going but it's not that long to my end of Zone 3.  He told me he was somewhat inebriated, and I said it was a good thing he wasn't driving.  (I also thought, of course, that that explained a bit.  But hey, the last inebriated man to be into me had a son my age, so since this guy looked in his 30s this was an improvement.)  We shared a three-seater and chatted about jobs, literature (esp. sff and dystopian lit), religion, and philosophy.  He held my hand the whole time, which was fine (and he must have kissed my hand like half a dozen times, which is sweet, though it always weirds me out a bit) and he asked for a kiss, which is valid esp. when you're drunk, but after that every time there was a lull in the conversation he would say, "What were we talking about?  Making out?"  He won serious points for being one of those people who will always look up the answer to a question if he doesn't know the answer, so I actually would have considered exchanging e-mail addresses (which he asked when I was leaving) but even when you're drunk if it becomes All About making out with this person you only met twenty minutes ago you lose.  I thanked God as I walked home that he wasn't getting off at my stop (doesn't even live in my town).  I so need an LJ tag for these sorts of encounters.  And no, I am not making "skeevy guys" a tag, 'cause they're not all skeevy exactly, or at least they're on a spectrum.  And dude, aside from the brief encounter with LM when Cat was visiting, it has been quite some time since I've had such an encounter.  I was seriously giggling most of the way home.  Oh Chris the inebriated technical writer from Walpole.




This morning I dreamt that I was in an airport waiting room or something (arrival's gate?) and some older guy was there, too, and he saw Joe arriving in the parking lot (even though I didn't know this guy and wasn't even waiting for me) so we walked out to him and Joe wasn't expecting me but wasn't visibly thrown, and we [Joe and I] hugged and he phoned his friends to say I'd be coming with, and I worried that said friends were Ashley&co. (because we just don't get on).  And then I woke up.
5:22p
[Palm Sunday]
We do not want to be arrested

There is, we discover late and often,
        an arresting quality about your word to us.
        We do not want to be arrested or even pause,
                for our days are planned out.
        And certainly we do not want to be arrested
                by the authorities,
                        not for speeding,.
                        not for trespassing,
                        not for shop-lifting,
                        Surely not for truth-telling.
Minister to us in our cowardice and timidity,
Set us to be as bold as you are true,
                        to meet the authorities who resist and arrest . . .
                                        our ancient mothers,
                                        our old convictions
                                        powerful ordaining committees,
                                        and last, even, city hall.
We bid mercy for those of our faith
                who this day are arrested for truth-telling;
Your word is truth, and we live by it,
                                frightened or bold,
                                free or not,
                                in the manner of His own life among us.
                                        Amen.

On reading Jeremiah 26
March 7, 2000

from Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Brueggemann, ed. Edwin Searcy, p. 92


This past week has been more upbeat poems, in anticipation of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.  I was having difficulty finding a triumphal poem to use for Palm Sunday itself, however.  So in part by necessity, I started thinking about having a more emotionally ambivalent poem.  I held off posting until after church, though, in case I got inspired by a hymn or anything.  Interestingly, at the opening of the service today, Pastor Hamilton talked about how we would be going through a lot of different emotions during the course of the day's service.

Read more...Collapse )
5:25p
on male versus female friends
I've been mostly nonengaging with the topics de jour, but someone posted this and I found it interesting because the ways of thinking about guys it describes are so much the reverse from mine.

The first bold item is "You are as sexist as any Modern Neanderthal Man." and I honestly believed the explanatory paragraph was going to be "You hold men to a lower standard, so you let them get away with shit you wouldn't tolerate from a woman," because I definitely feel like that's how I am around Terry and Eric sometimes (intensified by the fact that I'm confrontation-avoidy).  But the whole article is about a mindset completely reversed from that.

This paragraph rang somewhat true:
"You also probably haven't figured out why some of your guy friends keep dating annoying bimbos, the kind of women who are exactly the sort of high-maintenance, jealous twits who certainly aren't going to be friends of yours in a million years. Did it ever make you think twice about these guys that they can't see women like you as date material? Might you, possibly, consider that these guys are not merely well-meaning fellows turned to mental mush at the sight of cleavage--that very possibly, they don't find intellectual, challenging, nontraditional women such as yourself attractive? Wonder why that might be."
For me it felt more broadly applicable, about desiring people who clearly aren't interested in the type of person you are, and with "desire" used in a broad sense including "want to be friends with."

This article also reminded me how little interaction I have with males.  Most of the HBS profs are male, but I interact with the FAs and RAs (who are overwhelmingly female) far more.  When I visit the library, the only males who work there are the custodial staff.  I have a few male friends from high school, and a few from LJ.  I went to a women's college and didn't acquire any trans or 5-College friends during my time there.

I'm also aware of how much my sexual orientation influences where I fit with this whole issue because there's this whole idea of prizing male praise above all else which seems to me to go hand-in-hand with desire for male approval on the level of seeking a sexual/romantic relationship (which certainly makes sense, and I'm sure I have or will be guilty of that) but I'm equal-opportunity with wanting people to like me, including the context of desiring a sexual/romantic relationship.

The suspicious-of-women segment felt wholly foreign to me.  I mean, I'm used to "Oh, is she being nice to me just to be polite or is she actually interested in a relationship?" [term used to include "friendship"]  But that's because I've been so burnt by the "Oh we should totally hang out" with the unspoken "I don't mean that at all, but it's just what one says."
6:27p
letters of incompetency (my own fault)
Dear Self,

You document everything in LJ.  Therefore you don't actually need to save, say, programs from all the religious events you've gone to.  On the off chance you ever need/want additional details, you won't be able to find the bloody programs anyway.

Also: You don't scrapbook.  You aren't even attached to phsyical mementos of events.  So you have your ticket stub from every play you've been to recently why?

Oh, and how long has it been since you've even touched a zine?  Perhaps you could use some of that filing cabinet for actual financial stuff.

Love,
Your more rational part




Dear piles on my desk (and possibly elsewhere in my room):

I found my Smith W-2.  Where is my Atrium W-2?

Love,
She who knows taxes are due this Saturday
[Edit: Isabel explains in comments to this entry, complete with an irs.gov link, that in fact this is not true. Though I think a self-imposed deadline of midnight Saturday would not go amiss. Cushions are good.]

(Yes I know I should have done my 1040EZ already.  Shuddup.)

Edit almost immediately after posting (delayed due to computer restart): Found it. *wins*
8:42p
[Firefox] "Bookmarks Toolbar Folder: Empty"
Um, how did my Bookmarks just vanish?

Current Mood: confused and worried
10:34p
"they were digging a new foundation in manhattan..."
In my rage and frustration over my missing Bookmarks [NB: none of it's irreplaceable, and I mostly just use it for convenience -- have been thinking about adding to my LJ sidebar for some weeks now -- so no need to worry about me], I decided to fill out my taxes.  So, the fed. govt. takes ~10% of my taxable income and then gives me back the rest of what they've taken from my income?  (Yeah, this is the first year where I actually had any taxable income; before I just got all my federal withholdings back.)  This system is so bizarre.  And as always, I wish they just wouldn't take the money out to begin with.  I get no psychic kick out of getting a lump sum check from the govt. (it doesn't feel like a gift, just like I'm getting my own money back ... and having to fill out a form for the privilege; yes I know the 1040EZ is all of about 6 steps -- a couple more 'cause I have 2 W-2's this year -- but it's still a hassle, and the principle of the thing).

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