one of many reasons why i love cara

Here’s the thing about my dear and soon-to-be-married blog friend, Cara Ellison: She’s razor sharp but soft and silly too. It’s so endearing.

People who need to be the smartest person in the room, even if it’s the bathroom, bore me big time. They’re relentless in their need to show you up. They never relax. Their impressive (and boring) data banks are always “ON.” Big whoop, you know? So you’re smart. We get it. Here’s a Groucho nose. Wear it, okay?

The thing about Cara is she probably is the smartest person in most any room but she doesn’t need to prove it. She can be so silly and, personally, I just love that about her. She will go there with any premise. I mean, we’ve spit-balled zombie novels together, discussed if yard gnomes are sexy, done an hours-long sexorcism on a poor sexually repressed reader (with Sheila O’Malley), and just last week, she and I went down a crazy conversational rabbit hole on Facebook about a nutso bridesmaid dress she posted.

This one, to be exact:

hello-kitty.jpg

The whole conversation devolved into swapping endless Gone with the Wind references. We both went mad with it and, frankly, I wanna go mad with it all over again!

Here’s the conversation:

Annette: OMG. LMAO!

Cara: I know, right?! What kind of horrible bitch would force her friends to wear this? Besides me, I mean. : )

Annette: Aside from you…no one I’d know, for long anyway. 😉

Cara: LOL! It’s just so hideous. I can’t imagine anyone thinking that this is the perfect dress! So awful.

Tracey: OMG. It’s Hello Scarlett.

Cara: Hahah! It is! Maybe a nice pink bonnet will really complete the ensemble?

Tracey: Rhett would NEVER approve.

Tracey: And she’d end up slapping him. It would be kind of awesome, actually. You could write a whole short story just from this dress. I DEMAND YOU DO IT.

Cara: I shall never be without my pink Hello Kitty dress again!

Cara: I might have to now. It is so miraculously inspiring. I must know exactly what the creator was thinking when she brought this lovely article of couture into being.

Tracey: After all, tomorrow is another day with Hello Kitty!

Cara: “This Hello Kitty dress tis the only thing worth fightin’ for and dyin’ for, Katie Scarlet O’Hara, because it is the only thing that lasts.”

Tracey: “He went out and shot dat po’ Hello Kitty dress, and, for a minute, I thought he was gonna shoot himself.”

Tracey: “The only thing I’m afraid of is they won’t hang you in time to pay the taxes on my Hello Kitty dress!”

Tracey: I have a problem. I can’t stop.

Cara: OMG you win the internet! Please don’t stop, I’m laughing so hard.

Tracey: I am now actually imagining what the taxes would be on a Hello Kitty dress. At LEAST 300 dollars!

Jessica: There is a certain … something … about it that screams “whiskey and Ambien” for the bridesmaids lucky enough to wear it.

Cara: It has to be that much. Especially with all the sparklies.

Cara: GWTW is my favourite book and I’m suddenly drawing a blank on it – you’ve totally owned this meme.

Tracey: And now I’m imagining Scarlett showing up to that Yankee prison wearing this Hello Kitty dress and begging Rhett for the tax money. I seriously have a problem.

Tracey: It’s one of my favorite too. 😉

Cara: Jessica, I love that imagery!

Jessica: Well now I have a deranged Fushia O’Hara prancing around in my head thanks to you!

Cara: Tracey, oh yes, instead of the drapery dress, this would have been much more effective. Yet I do wonder if Scarlett was wearing it when the old foreman with his new wife (the loose woman) came to Tara if things might have gone better for her. She’d rip off a ruffle, fling it in his face, and say, “That’s all of my Hello Kitty dress you’ll ever see!”

Tracey: Hahahahahaha.

Cara: Careen: “I guess a things like a lady’s Hello Kitty dress isn’t important anymore…”

Cara: Sue Ellen: “She stole my Hello Kitty dress! It was mine, I was going to marry it, and she stole it from me!”

Tracey: HAHAHAHAHA! “What’s my little lamb gwoine wear?” Scarlett points to Hello Kitty dress. “Oh, no, you ain’t!!”

Cara: LOL! Omg, Yessss!!!!

Tracey: “What’s that rustling I hear, Mammy?” “Why, Mista Rhett, that’s jes the Hello Kitty dress you done got me.”

Cara: I was thinking about that one! You got it though. Damn, where is Sheila O’Malley? She needs to get in on this!

Tracey: Yes! We need our trio!

Cara: I love your mind, Miss Tracey. : )

Tracey: Ditto, my dear.

Cara: Why, if I tell my Hello Kitty dress that I love it, it won’t marry Melly!

Tracey: Hahahahaha!

Tracey: “I can’t go all my life waiting to catch you between Hello Kitty dresses.”

Tracey: I can’t stop giggling over how stupid this is. It’s out of my control.

Cara: OMG that last Rhett line is masterful! I know, it’s totally dumb but it is also awesome.

Tracey: I have now mentally replaced every fabulous Scarlett gown with this Hello Kitty dress. At the Wilkes’ barbeque — in Hello Kitty. Mourning at the Atlanta ball — in Hello Kitty. Going to Ashley’s party — in Hello Kitty.

Cara: Marrying Melly’s cousin (suddenly drawing a blank on his name), Hello Kitty dress.

Cara: Knitting with India and the other women: Hello Kitty dress.

Tracey: Charles Hamilton. Put HIM in a Hello Kitty dress.

Tracey: Opening scene of the book, on the porch with the twins … in a Hello Kitty dress.

Tracey: “Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by the charm of her Hello Kitty dress as the Tarleton twins were.”

Cara: Good lord. You’re beyond awesome.

Tracey: Or beyond help …..

Cara: We have a long history of Internet awesomeness. (I believe she is referring to our above-mentioned sexorcism of ’09. We need to do another one.)

Tracey: That we do, my friend. That we do. 😉

interviewing happy jack

Here’s a short video snippet I took of 18-month-old Banshee Boy — now known as Happy Jack — on Labor Day. I had just taught him the all-important life skill of whistling into a Sharpie lid.

You know, I’m so glad he’ll be able to share at my funeral about all the ways I changed his life.

I love his little “oh” at the end. Stay tuned for the last word of the video; it gives a hint at his real name, which we don’t mention here and still won’t. Also, I’m kind of laughing at the conversation in the background between my brother and sister-in-law about what to give Happy Jack to eat. He had a bit of a virus that was giving him troubles ….uh, down south …..so they were in a bit of a dither as to what to feed him. Haha.

Anyhoo …. for the curious …… and for those who love cuteness …… there he is. Oh, and my voice is there too. Bleah.

so ……

I’ve been sorta/kinda back on Facebook for a couple of months and I now have a pending friend request on FB from my mother-in-law. I’ve just been letting it languish in the upper left-hand corner where it’s been the little red flag of menace now for several days. She’s out of town so I know I can let it sit there ……. for now.

This can’t be good.

Can it?

I will now be forced to post only about my family all the time until she unfriends me in disgust.

You see, she shuts down and virtually pouts at any mention of my family or my nephews/nieces and takes our childless state very personally. (Uhm, guess what? Not about you, peaches.)

My sister, who is not on FB, said the other day, “Facebook just seems like another place to get in trouble with people.”

I think she’s probably right.

Ugh.

the unaskable question

We were out at breakfast yesterday morning when two forty-something men sat down at the table next to ours. One of them, a rather big-faced fellow, began talking about the TV show The Walking Dead, which MB and I are hooked on, so I began to eavesdrop in earnest. He told his friend how he “didn’t normally watch shows like that” and how it’s about “moral dilemmas and redemption” and, bam, I just knew: Christians. Christians are the only people I know who need to do a CYA for watching certain TV shows and they’re also the only ones I know who use the word redemption in casual conversation. I don’t say this as a judgment at all. I simply say this because I can recognize the language of my people anywhere any time like a Texan could recognize a fellow Texan in the middle of Zimbabwe. The big-faced one talked a lot — about youth concerts at his church, about singing worship songs in a circle, about using real bread for communion. He was very earnest about the things he thought were very radical. The friend nodded in very earnest agreement about these very radical things.

And it was then I knew: I had to ask the question. I had to do it. I don’t know what compels me, something malevolent I’m sure. I waited for MB to leave to pay the bill so I wouldn’t embarrass him too much. The success of our relationship is dependent upon MB evacuating the immediate area — a lot. The waitress brought their order and as she left, there was a natural lull in conversation. My heart was pounding. I’m such a jerk. That thought never seems to stop me, though, so I turned to them and spoke.

“Hi. I’m sorry to interrupt but I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re both Christians?”

They looked a bit startled but recovered quickly. I could have been a non-Christian who needed answers, you know, so they smiled and nodded, a polite veneer.

“Oh, yes. Yes, we are.”

“Okay. Well, I am too –”

“Oh, great, great,” they interrupted, relieved, I guess, there wouldn’t be any hard questions to answer. They had no idea.

“– and I was wondering if I could ask you a spiritual question that’s kind of ……. strange?”

“Uhh … sure …..”

“Okay. Well ….. ” I took a big breath. “Do you think there will be sex in heaven?”

They both fell back into their chairs, walloped at the very thought. Their eyes were saucers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the little old lady at the table next to them lift her head from her book, eyes blazing with glee, a huge incredulous smile on her face. From that moment on, she blatantly eavesdropped on the rest of our conversation.

I was nervous, so I kept talking — very fast — as is my wont.

“Well, um, I think about this a lot.” Shut up, Tracey. You sound like a pervert. “I mean, it’s something that really interests me. ” OMG, it’s getting worse. “Well, most Christians don’t seem to really think about that, you know? I mean ….. Jesus never actually mentions this so ……..”

Thank God, the big-faced one spoke and put me out of my misery.

“Well ….. hm …… wow. Well, I guess I think there won’t be a need for it because of the presence of God.”

“Okay. That’s interesting. So do you think, then, that heaven is more of a utilitarian place that consists of only things we need?”

“I’ve never thought of it like that.”

“I mean, does God just pare down life to the bare essentials then, like a Motel 6, or does he keep and redeem (there’s that word) the things he originally created or declared good — like sex?”

“Well, I think he redeems things.”

“I agree. Do you think we’ll eat?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think we’ll need to eat?”

“Maybe not.”

“So food but no sex? Then is sex so corrupted that God can’t redeem it?”

“I wouldn’t think so … I guess …..”

The other man spoke.

“I don’t think I’ve spent time contemplating this — ever.”

What a surprise.

He continued.

“I think I’ll just be so full of joy, I won’t even care or think about it.”

I had to laugh.

“Come on. You’re a man.”

He laughed too.

“So do you think you’ll still be a man with …… man parts?”

“Actually, I do.”

“With a physical body?”

“Yes,” they both said.

“So …. gender is intact and physicality is intact, but no one will be allowed to …. uhh …. do anything with it?”

They both laughed this time — a laugh fueled by the unwanted gift of social discomfort I’d brought to their breakfast table, now laden with cold coffee and uneaten pancakes.

“I mean, won’t that be a source of eternal frustration?”

“I don’t …… knnnow,” the other one said.

“Back to your comment about the presence of God, look at the garden of Eden,” I said. “There’s Adam, he’s in perfection, in the very presence of God all the time, and God himself scratches his chin and says it’s not good for Adam to be alone, so he makes Eve. He tweaks his own creation. God decided that even his very presence was not enough for Adam so he made Eve and let them ….. be a man and a women together, to put it delicately. But he made the human one of his own kind. Doesn’t that kind of show that God understands that even in perfection, he is not enough? That humans need other humans and men and women need each other and how does that all play out in heaven?”

This verbal barrage spewed out across their breakfast table at approximately 473 wpm.

Wow. I really am a jerk.

They stared at me. The little old lady was smiling to break her face. MB had been standing by, quietly observing the conversational fray the light of his life had created.

“This is my embarrassed husband,” I said to the men to break all the sacrilegious tension.

“Hello, embarrassed husband,” they laughed. Looks of pity flickered across their faces.

MB just smiled. And I just kept going, a relentless grand inquisitor.

“Tell me honestly. From a male perspective, is a sexless eternity a bummer?”

“Well ……. I suppose ……. I mean, kind of ……. well ….. hm ….. I don’t know what to say …..” they said variously.

The atmosphere around MB had subtly shifted. His body language deemed it was time to go — before I said the word penis and/or vagina to these two hapless hungry strangers.

“Well, thanks for being so nice and answering my questions. I’ll let you get back to your breakfast and your original conversation — which probably wasn’t this, right?”

“No, but this was interesting. Something to think about,” the big-faced fellow said.

“Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Once we were outside, MB finally spoke with a laugh and a shake of his head. “My wife, always the wild card.”

He grabbed my hand with a quiet chuckle and we dissected the entire encounter all the way home.

I can’t help it. I don’t know what compels me.

Something malevolent, I’m sure.

blogging light

We’ve been out of town for my birthday and now a house guest.

Uhm, for longer than we thought. Weeeeee.

Don’t you love that family miscommunication?

Back in a bit. Unless I kill people. I don’t think they let you blog in prison.

oh, hey, this just in: if you masturbate, you’re gay

Oh, sweet fancy Moses.

Celebrity pastor Mark Driscoll (Mars Hill Church, Seattle WA) strikes again. I seriously wanna thunk that guy so bad.

Brace yourselves, pippa. Here we go:

“First, masturbation can be a form of homosexuality because it is a sexual act that does not involve a woman. If a man were to masturbate while engaged in other forms of sexual intimacy with his wife then he would not be doing so in a homosexual way. However, any man who does so without his wife in the room is bordering on homosexual activity.”

Hm. You know, I didn’t know homosexuality was defined by who is watching your various sexual activities. This is news to me. Then again, it’s fashionable these days to change the common understanding of words and terms to something newer and better, I guess, so maybe I’m just not up on the latest definition of homosexuality because I’m not as cool or hip as Driscoll and I don’t wear my t-shirts with a vest or my Converse with a suit.

I just wear ’em with jeans. I’m a goober.

So following Driscoll’s logic here, if two men are having sex but a woman is watching them, that means they’re both straight then, right?

Or if one of the men is married to the woman, then he’s straight, but the other dude is gay?

Or, wait, if both of them are married and both of their wives are watching – something all women love to do, of course — then both of the men are straight. Do I have that right?

If Driscoll’s comment is true, then every man since the dawn of time is gay and every woman who is with a man is with a gay man and no one is paying attention to the t-shirt.

Bummer.

christians don’t masturbate

Today I offer for your perusal, this:

x3t117-zoom-tm.jpg

Now I could go on and on about the basic oogeyness of anyone actually wearing this t-shirt, but I won’t because I really think that’s less interesting than my niggling punctuation issue here which calls into question the intended meaning of the whole image, so I’m curious:

Does the t-shirt imply a comma, as in “Christians, don’t masturbate”? Or does the t-shirt imply the even more emphatic colon, as in “Christians: Don’t Masturbate”? Either way then, is the t-shirt offering an unsolicited rebuke? Is it being a sartorial scold?

OR

Does the t-shirt really intend no punctuation, thereby making a declarative: “Christians don’t masturbate”?

It’s unclear, isn’t it? There’s no punctuation here. What does this mean, pippa? The larger red “CHRISTIANS” set above and apart from the words “don’t masturbate” seems to imply some kind of punctuation should follow CHRISTIANS. Then again, maybe not. I honestly don’t know and that’s part of why it’s so stupid: The true meaning/intent isn’t clear.

Perhaps the t-shirt means “Christians don’t masturbate, but all the hellbound heathens do”? Is that it then?

Let’s look at the possibilities:

If the t-shirt means “Christians, don’t masturbate,” well, who doesn’t love to be minding their own business, waiting in line to order their skinny chai latte, only to be confronted by a nagging, all-up-in-your-grill t-shirt worn by some Christian who thinks he’s helping you via the always life-changing venue of casual wear? If you’re wearing this, Slappy, do you really think some 16-year-old Christian kid who sees the t-shirt stops himself in his bed that night, thinking, “But …. well …… that t-shirt earlier today said ……”? No. I’m sorry, but the only t-shirt-related thought that kid thinks in the heat of the moment is how he wishes he had it handy to help him clean up.

You know, I’m actually offended by how stupid this shirt is, how stupid someone would have to be to wear it, how stupid it makes all Christians look, and how stupid it thinks its intended audience is. You’re not helping anyone by wearing this. You’re not even helping yourself because you look like a total wanker.

If the t-shirt means “Christians don’t masturbate” as a statement of fact, well, that’s just a flat-out lie. Christians do masturbate. Whether or not they should is something for eternal debate, I suppose, but Christians do masturbate. No one can make this statement as if it’s empirical truth unless they assembled all the Christians since the dawn of time, gave them polygraph tests regarding their, er, handiwork, analyzed the data, and then concluded that, yes, it’s absolutely unequivocally true that no Christian ever at any time since the invention of hands and fancy places has ever masturbated, world without end, amen. So did the creators of this t-shirt do this? Did they? Because if they did, they definitely missed our house.

So if you wear this shirt you’re either a) nagging, b) lying or c) a bit of both.

And that’s why Christians annoy people. Because we act like wankers but never ever engage in wanking.

Of course.

Lastly, if the t-shirt means “Christians don’t masturbate,” well, that’s a nice guilt-inducing sentiment, isn’t it? If you’re a real Christian, you don’t masturbate like all the blind hairy-palmed pagans we see staggering about us every day. If you do masturbate or ever have, you’re not a real Christian because, to repeat, Christians don’t masturbate.

But wait! Do my eyes deceive me or is there an implied loophole in this t-shirt’s design? A subliminal message? The image is a hand print of a right hand. So is this lie/scold/guilt trip of a t-shirt directed solely at right-handed Christians? Or the right hand itself? Does that mean use of the left hand in all self-completion activities would be acceptable then? I ask only for clarity’s sake, of course.

I have to wonder: Why the focus on masturbation? Is it guilt trip? The shock value? The superiority complex? I mean, why not a t-shirt that says “Christians don’t lie” or “Christians don’t steal”? or “Christians don’t commit adultery”? Those are taken directly from the ten commandments where, surprisingly, masturbation isn’t mentioned even once. So why not make t-shirts that say those things? Oh, wait. Those aren’t true either, plus they’re nowhere near as titillating as the whole master of your domain issue.

I shouldn’t underestimate this t-shirt’s value, though, because I’m now inspired to design my own similar t-shirts. For instance, how about a “Christians don’t lie” t-shirt featuring Pinocchio in silhouette with his nose wrapping all the way ’round the t-shirt. That would be cool, no? And, oh, how about a “Christians don’t commit adultery” t-shirt with two people really going at it in silhouette, doggy-style? I mean, why not?

Let’s cover all the things we Christians “don’t” do and put them on t-shirts.

You know, there’s only so much eye rolling my eyes can do before they’re stuck on “roll” forever.

Come on. Christians are humans first. They become Christians later. And later still, some become idiots.

But idiots or not, we struggle with all the same things everyone else does. Don’t let some random stupid t-shirt tell you otherwise.

(Also, I’m open to your t-shirt suggestions. Let’s start a business so we can fund our Sudden Yurt Commune.)

the mindset of the foc male

I occasionally visit the FB page of a dude from Maybe Church who was one of the worship leaders when we were there. Actually, he was the one I wrote about who literally could not sing — he was tone deaf, I’m pretty sure of it — and it fascinated me that he was given that position simply because of the penis in his pants when there were women singing behind him who were clearly better singers.

As a bit of a background here, I’ve seen him around the various FOC “survivor” blogs — using his full name because FOCers think a screen name is a form of dishonesty — and he’s generally been mocking and condescending towards the people abused or traumatized by the FOC who are still deeply hurting. At one point, after my patience with him had completely frayed, I gave him a well-deserved (but fairly controlled) smackdown because I have zero tolerance for people who are cruel and dismissive about other’s pain just because it hasn’t happened to them. It is the essence of ungrace to me and the antithesis of Christian compassion.

His FB page is open to anyone, it seems, or at least many of the posts are public, so I check in on him about once a month. He’s a curiosity to me because, well, most FOCers are curiosities to me at this point and because he’s in a leadership position at his church that I don’t think he’s mature enough or sensitive enough to manage. My opinion.

I visited him this morning and found this thread. I believe most of the commenters here are also FOC men from his church.

I’m putting it up with no commentary from me — which is an act of extreme will power on my part, let me tell you. I think this exchange gives an interesting glimpse into the mindset of the FOC male. Worship leader starts the thread, so he’s “Poster” here:

POSTER: Just watched a girl at the gym, who was basically wearing nothing, go to the locker room and put on sweats and a shirt. Why? Because she noticed how many guys were constantly staring at her. I think this is a first…

MAN 2: One of them being you.

MAN 3: What?! No pic?!

POSTER: I looked at her with the look of, “Where is her dad at?” 😉

MAN 3: I would’ve given her a dollar. 😉

POSTER: And please no one jump to any sinful conclusions here. During the few minutes I was stretching I saw this girl and noticed the guys, and within a few minutes this girl changed. It wasn’t a workout long obsession…plus my wife is hotter anyways!

‎RANDOM CHICK: “Mission accomplished.” –that girl.

MAN 4: Do push ups at home.

MAN 5: I agree with Man 4. 🙂 Home is much safer for the mans inherited wandering eyes.

POSTER: The point of this thread is that a girl who I would think that desires men’s attention like a whore, strangely changed her clothes in order to reject men’s attention. I thought that it was awesome. Secondly, I don’t think that God created females for us to make an effort to not be around them, except for one. Finding women attractive is not a bad thing. The sin is coveting someone else. Thoughts?

POSTER: Again, the point of this thread is to say that I thought that a girl changing her clothes instead of desiring men’s attention was awesome. I’d be a proud dad of that girl!

POSTER: We as men need to not be afraid of attraction. We need to flee the thought that we wished that our wives WERE these other women. Thoughts?

MAN 6: (ed.: He leaves a link to this video by celebrity pastor Mark Driscoll.)

MAN 4: There are some women we should make efforts not to be around. Especially if we don’t have to be around them. We might have to be around scantily clad females in our neighborhoods or at work. A gym is an elective.

MAN 7: It’s not easy being in the world but not of the world. When I see a beautiful woman I remind myself that (A) She is a co/Image bearer of God, (B) She is someone’s daughter, (C) she could be someone’s wife, (D) She doesn’t belong to me. Plus frankly often they are not so beautiful after they open their mouths…

MAN 8: Hey Man 7, one thing you said that always stuck with me. You said every time you see a beautiful woman you would think to yourself, “wow, good job God”. That always put things in perspective for me.

So I throw it back to you, pippa. Does anything in particular stick out to you?

As “Poster” said, “Thoughts?”

(Okay. I can’t hold it in. I can’t. I have to say it: I notice they’re using emoticons in their manly communications. Wasn’t this labeled “verboten” by ol’ Baldy, head of the FOC?)

ikea ephemera

Pile of tags I removed from the three pillows I bought from IKEA.

Three pillows.

All the regulation, “do not remove,” blah blahdie blah tags.

It’s a haystack of tags. Insane.

pileoftags.jpg

You’re weird, IKEA.