pregnancy does not directly equate to a feeling of impending death, doom and despair, today.
I'll take it.
*knocking furiously on wood that I don't get all nastified sick, again. cause seriously....I really fucking hate that*
Monday, November 2, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
return to sender
do not want.
I don't want to be pregnant. in fact...(keeping it real here)...I don't want another baby.
do.not.want.
not at all.
call me selfish. call me careless. call me completely fucked...but that's how I feel.
I've already got a baby and he requires a good dose of attention and care...and frankly, that's about all I've got in me.
I want just a smidge of my life back. I'm not talking cocktails, tailgating, and my figure. all completely meaningless, pointless and not of my concern.
my desires are way less superficial and much more basic.
I want sleep. strength. health and exercise.
I want to climb. I want to ride...and I want to be able to nap after doing so.
I haven't slept through the night in 16 months. its driving me absolutely fucking crazy (obvious much?).
I am tired. I'm weak. I'm dizzy and I'm nauseated enough to consider killing myself and this embryo.
don't want.
(un?)fortunately, I'm of the moral fiber that abortion isn't even close to being an option. I'm BY NO MEANS a conservative, christian or even particularly judgemental...
but I can't do it.
wish I could. (REALLY wish I could)
can't do it.
my body can't take much more of this. I don't do pregnant well. I'm sickly, drained, bedraggled and ill.
I look like I'm dying. not exaggerating that. oqui actually apologized to me the other day for killing me...slowly...via pregnancy.
I FEEL LIKE I'M DYING.
the newborn days and nursing were no better for me. I couldn't eat like a real person for a year. always fatigued. always exhausted. trouble breathing.
I'm convinced I've digested portions of my heart, lungs and liver.
I'm not strong enough to do this, again. honestly...my body (and mind) have had enough.
I've been a parent my entire adult life. even before the technical start of "adulthood."
I want a break.
I need a break.
I DON'T need another baby....and there's nothing I can do about it.
I don't want to be pregnant. in fact...(keeping it real here)...I don't want another baby.
do.not.want.
not at all.
call me selfish. call me careless. call me completely fucked...but that's how I feel.
I've already got a baby and he requires a good dose of attention and care...and frankly, that's about all I've got in me.
I want just a smidge of my life back. I'm not talking cocktails, tailgating, and my figure. all completely meaningless, pointless and not of my concern.
my desires are way less superficial and much more basic.
I want sleep. strength. health and exercise.
I want to climb. I want to ride...and I want to be able to nap after doing so.
I haven't slept through the night in 16 months. its driving me absolutely fucking crazy (obvious much?).
I am tired. I'm weak. I'm dizzy and I'm nauseated enough to consider killing myself and this embryo.
don't want.
(un?)fortunately, I'm of the moral fiber that abortion isn't even close to being an option. I'm BY NO MEANS a conservative, christian or even particularly judgemental...
but I can't do it.
wish I could. (REALLY wish I could)
can't do it.
my body can't take much more of this. I don't do pregnant well. I'm sickly, drained, bedraggled and ill.
I look like I'm dying. not exaggerating that. oqui actually apologized to me the other day for killing me...slowly...via pregnancy.
I FEEL LIKE I'M DYING.
the newborn days and nursing were no better for me. I couldn't eat like a real person for a year. always fatigued. always exhausted. trouble breathing.
I'm convinced I've digested portions of my heart, lungs and liver.
I'm not strong enough to do this, again. honestly...my body (and mind) have had enough.
I've been a parent my entire adult life. even before the technical start of "adulthood."
I want a break.
I need a break.
I DON'T need another baby....and there's nothing I can do about it.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
unpossible
we are supposed to settle on the new house in 8 days.
ummm...no.
long story (INCREDIBLY LONG STORY) short:
-dude filed for bankruptcy 3 years ago and didn't disclose it. awesome. now the court must be involved to approve the sale, but first...
-dude has to be declared mentally competent to enter into a contract/undergo bankrupty proceedings/wipe his own ass, etc.
yes. he was declared incompetent 11 (ELEVEN FUCKING) years ago, had the deed to his home (the one we're trying to buy) transferred to his grandfather, had it transferred back when he got married WITHOUT REVERSING THE INCOMPETENCE RULING, and now the title to the home is completely fucked.
we MUST settle on this (or any other) home before November 30 in order to get the 8 grand tax credit.
so not gonna happen.
I'm livid, concerned and more nauseous than ever.
honest to god WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE???
my ex-husband is coming back for this house in 8 days...
sure hope he likes having roomies.
ummm...no.
long story (INCREDIBLY LONG STORY) short:
-dude filed for bankruptcy 3 years ago and didn't disclose it. awesome. now the court must be involved to approve the sale, but first...
-dude has to be declared mentally competent to enter into a contract/undergo bankrupty proceedings/wipe his own ass, etc.
yes. he was declared incompetent 11 (ELEVEN FUCKING) years ago, had the deed to his home (the one we're trying to buy) transferred to his grandfather, had it transferred back when he got married WITHOUT REVERSING THE INCOMPETENCE RULING, and now the title to the home is completely fucked.
we MUST settle on this (or any other) home before November 30 in order to get the 8 grand tax credit.
so not gonna happen.
I'm livid, concerned and more nauseous than ever.
honest to god WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE???
my ex-husband is coming back for this house in 8 days...
sure hope he likes having roomies.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
penis poisoning
I'm pregnant.
but too sick to talk about it in any detail.
when I stop wishing for death, I'll elaborate.
until that time...ladies, do what you can to avoid penis poisoning.
but too sick to talk about it in any detail.
when I stop wishing for death, I'll elaborate.
until that time...ladies, do what you can to avoid penis poisoning.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Professor Formula Breath
taking itty bittle minor steps to start weaning the Prof...
including that nasty rotting flesh formula.
he has taken (and by taken I mean he's SMITTEN with) to a cup with a straw, so I've been trying to sneak the occassional ounce or so of horse piss (ie. formula) into his wooby cup...appropriately diluted with juice, pedialyte or motor oil...you know, to improve the taste.
so far...I've gotten about 6 ounces in him. total. in 11 months.
we're obviously gonna have to take this slowly...
in non-formula weaning news; oqui got him to sleep last night without my help. hell...I wasn't even here.
the kid went to sleep without nursing, slept the entire night (who IS he???) and I woke up feeling like my chest was going to explode.
fun. fun. fun.
but...it must be done, at least to some extent.
I need the rest...
including that nasty rotting flesh formula.
he has taken (and by taken I mean he's SMITTEN with) to a cup with a straw, so I've been trying to sneak the occassional ounce or so of horse piss (ie. formula) into his wooby cup...appropriately diluted with juice, pedialyte or motor oil...you know, to improve the taste.
so far...I've gotten about 6 ounces in him. total. in 11 months.
we're obviously gonna have to take this slowly...
in non-formula weaning news; oqui got him to sleep last night without my help. hell...I wasn't even here.
the kid went to sleep without nursing, slept the entire night (who IS he???) and I woke up feeling like my chest was going to explode.
fun. fun. fun.
but...it must be done, at least to some extent.
I need the rest...
Friday, September 25, 2009
stilllll sleepy.
not as sick, but definitely TIRED TIRED TIRED.
probably just as much from my lingering swine/plague/flu/cold as from the fact that the Prof has been...shall we say...not sleeping well?
he's cutting a tooth. (never thought I'd be so proud of a little toofer, but he's about 5 months overdue and I was starting to worry. PARTICULARLY because its a symptom of celiac, but I REALLY digress....)
he stood unassisted this week. well....danced, actually. he's definitely mine. he digs throw back jams and old school hip hop.
he said, clear as a bell, "sissy." The Monkey was THRILLED.
and he finally took to the binky...about 11 months late, but if it keeps his little teething gums happy, I'm game. he's actually more interested in playing a little game of self-fetch with it...but it keeps in happy in his playpen...which HE.ABSOLUTELY.LOVES.
amen. I can pee, again.
oh, yeah...
he humps everything, too. (balls deep)
oqui finally conceeded that a DNA test isn't necessary...
the boy is his.
probably just as much from my lingering swine/plague/flu/cold as from the fact that the Prof has been...shall we say...not sleeping well?
he's cutting a tooth. (never thought I'd be so proud of a little toofer, but he's about 5 months overdue and I was starting to worry. PARTICULARLY because its a symptom of celiac, but I REALLY digress....)
he stood unassisted this week. well....danced, actually. he's definitely mine. he digs throw back jams and old school hip hop.
he said, clear as a bell, "sissy." The Monkey was THRILLED.
and he finally took to the binky...about 11 months late, but if it keeps his little teething gums happy, I'm game. he's actually more interested in playing a little game of self-fetch with it...but it keeps in happy in his playpen...which HE.ABSOLUTELY.LOVES.
amen. I can pee, again.
oh, yeah...
he humps everything, too. (balls deep)
oqui finally conceeded that a DNA test isn't necessary...
the boy is his.
Monday, September 14, 2009
stillllllllllllllllllllllll sick.
cough. gag. choke. sweat.
anyone brave enough to break the quarantine is welcome to come smack me over the head with a golf club.
kthnx.
anyone brave enough to break the quarantine is welcome to come smack me over the head with a golf club.
kthnx.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I got two words for ya
rumney was a gigantic bust.
oh what a disastrous web we weave if we attempt to....can't think of a rhyming word...recreate.
t'was (yet another) trip from hell.
the baby busted out a 102 and A HALF degree fever thursday JUST prior to our departure time, putting our long awaited trip in grave jeopardy.
sweet.
fever broke the next morning (so we thought) so we put our narrow white asses in the car, met monica and got to driving...
for ten fucking hours.
the kid kept spiking a fever, we kept stopping and sticking stuff up his ass...all the while wondering why we were stupid enough to attempt this. we finally rolled into the farm around 10, 11ish...set up camp (a very long and complicated process in the dark. believe you me). finally ended up in the awesome but extremely dusty 150+ year old farmhouse that makes me sneeze and tried like hell to sleep.
no go. the fever spiked again. the kid and I couldn't breathe. we could HEAR but not participate in the full moon campfire shenanigans and life was generally miserable until sunrise.
wait. it gets better.
we set an alarm to get up early for the farm breakfast. I was promised gluten free, dairy free, (et cetera. you guys know the list) eggs, sausage and potatoes...and was pretty excited about it.
nope. the farm was overrun with french canadian sausage stealing motherfuckers (I HATE french canadian sausage stealing mother fuckers!~!!!!) who ate up all the food before we got there.
I've never been more upset about a $10 plate of over cooked cold eggs and greasy kale in my life.
we lounged around trying to recover our sensibilities and hit the crag in the early afternoon.
BLISS! rumney rock is the best on the east coast (possibly in the whole entire universe) and we thoroughly and whole-heartedly enjoyed ourselves, five minutes at a time while we managed to squeeze in three whole routes amidst the prof's constant and incessant protestation.
he finally fell asleep JUST prior to be tossed off the cliff...then monica's phone rang.
her boyfriend's grandfather took a turn for the worse and we needed to get home.
fuck me.
now, I did not at all intend to write this blog to bash our climbing buddy (which is why I waited several days to even attempt it)...but I'm gonna have to put some facts out there to really convey this entire picture.
he was sick before she left. she was asked not to leave. she chose to leave anyway knowing full well he was on his last leg.
soooo...we reluctantly (after THREE routes) headed to the farm to shower up, pack up, get fed and get on the road, again.
fuck.in.a.
on the way home, I got even more frustrated with her as she didn't help kick in for gas, didn't share in the driving and always got in the front seat.
'scuse me!?!?!
girl, I heart ya...but we're never taking a road trip together again lest I find it difficult to supress the urge to strangle ya.
separate cars, girlfriend.
separate cars.
oh what a disastrous web we weave if we attempt to....can't think of a rhyming word...recreate.
t'was (yet another) trip from hell.
the baby busted out a 102 and A HALF degree fever thursday JUST prior to our departure time, putting our long awaited trip in grave jeopardy.
sweet.
fever broke the next morning (so we thought) so we put our narrow white asses in the car, met monica and got to driving...
for ten fucking hours.
the kid kept spiking a fever, we kept stopping and sticking stuff up his ass...all the while wondering why we were stupid enough to attempt this. we finally rolled into the farm around 10, 11ish...set up camp (a very long and complicated process in the dark. believe you me). finally ended up in the awesome but extremely dusty 150+ year old farmhouse that makes me sneeze and tried like hell to sleep.
no go. the fever spiked again. the kid and I couldn't breathe. we could HEAR but not participate in the full moon campfire shenanigans and life was generally miserable until sunrise.
wait. it gets better.
we set an alarm to get up early for the farm breakfast. I was promised gluten free, dairy free, (et cetera. you guys know the list) eggs, sausage and potatoes...and was pretty excited about it.
nope. the farm was overrun with french canadian sausage stealing motherfuckers (I HATE french canadian sausage stealing mother fuckers!~!!!!) who ate up all the food before we got there.
I've never been more upset about a $10 plate of over cooked cold eggs and greasy kale in my life.
we lounged around trying to recover our sensibilities and hit the crag in the early afternoon.
BLISS! rumney rock is the best on the east coast (possibly in the whole entire universe) and we thoroughly and whole-heartedly enjoyed ourselves, five minutes at a time while we managed to squeeze in three whole routes amidst the prof's constant and incessant protestation.
he finally fell asleep JUST prior to be tossed off the cliff...then monica's phone rang.
her boyfriend's grandfather took a turn for the worse and we needed to get home.
fuck me.
now, I did not at all intend to write this blog to bash our climbing buddy (which is why I waited several days to even attempt it)...but I'm gonna have to put some facts out there to really convey this entire picture.
he was sick before she left. she was asked not to leave. she chose to leave anyway knowing full well he was on his last leg.
soooo...we reluctantly (after THREE routes) headed to the farm to shower up, pack up, get fed and get on the road, again.
fuck.in.a.
on the way home, I got even more frustrated with her as she didn't help kick in for gas, didn't share in the driving and always got in the front seat.
'scuse me!?!?!
girl, I heart ya...but we're never taking a road trip together again lest I find it difficult to supress the urge to strangle ya.
separate cars, girlfriend.
separate cars.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
loser!
wow.
checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.
they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.
I totally fucked something up.
who's a loser???
--------> THIS GIRL <----------
checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.
they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.
I totally fucked something up.
who's a loser???
--------> THIS GIRL <----------
gotta admit
I'm a little apprehensive about the trip with the baby.
he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).
he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.
it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.
we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.
I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.
aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.
haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???
either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.
another fact worthy of note:
monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.
doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...
on top rope.
it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.
I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.
yeah...9's it is.
he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).
he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.
it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.
we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.
I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.
aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.
haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???
either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.
another fact worthy of note:
monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.
doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...
on top rope.
it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.
I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.
yeah...9's it is.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
oh. it don't get no better than this.
on my way to new jerseyshire...
we are taking both children adventuring.
9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.
it's gonna be cold.
The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...
but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.
I must to go buy a coat for the kid.
9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.
it's gonna be cold.
The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...
but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.
I must to go buy a coat for the kid.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
high road (aka faking it)
perhaps its because its no longer melt your skin hot outside?
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?
either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.
(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)
I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.
I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.
ie. I'm gonna fake it.
I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...
then I shall set sail without them.
how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?
I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.
save the drama for....
actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.
I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.
put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?
either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.
(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)
I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.
I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.
ie. I'm gonna fake it.
I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...
then I shall set sail without them.
how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?
I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.
save the drama for....
actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.
I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.
put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.
Monday, August 31, 2009
cooling off
I'd like to give a shout out to 70 degree weather, hoodies, long pants and chilly nights.
thank ya, jesus!!! fall doth come(th).
speaking of jesus...oqui and I have been batting around the idea of adding a little faith to our lives. we've recently come to the long overdue conclusion that we're cranky, kermudgeon, rat-fink bastards and prolly need to change our outlook(s) a bit.
enter the jesus peeps. these motherfuckers are always so goddamn (no offense to my jesus peeps) fucking happy.
happy. happy. disgustingly, sickeningly happy.
I want in.
problem is...neither one of us even remotely believes in jesus. in fact, oqui is openly antagonistic about the concept and I'm afeared that should he set foot in a place of worship, he'd instantly combust.
I, myself, am mostly agnostic with a heavy side of atheism. I TRIED to believe. trust in suki...there was a time in my life in which I actively sought faith. I went to mosques, chapels, mass, temples...
I even went so far as to join a rite of christian initiation for adult's class (not just for the tuition discount at catholic school, either) during which I told a little ol' nun that I prayed for faith. BEGGED for belief. asked for the faith of Job (you know, the guy who kept get his ass handed to him by god but refused to denouce him)....
and nothing. I asked the lil' ol' nun...how can that be? doth not god hear and answer our prayers.
she resorted to honesty with me. she started with, "I don't know" and followed up with the advice that if I really wanted to believe...I had to stop trying to do so intellectually and just take the leap.
she was sweet. she also told me that she didn't believe every word in the catechism (ie. that unbaptised babies go to hell) and that you have to pick and choose your religious battles...
which led me to the muslims.
islam is a great way to become a die-hard, complete and total hypocrite. the scriptual expectations are set so incredibly high that noone (NOONE) can live up to them...and thusly get very good at rationalizing their transgressions.
the catholics, are also good at this from what I hear.
so, oqui and I are half seriously considering heading to church for at least the social benefits...all the while keeping eyes peeled for a non-religious alternative. (from what I remember of my preacher's kid days...church goers aren't always the happy mofos they appear to be. has something changed since I last dared to do the wafer?)
I suppose if we go to church, get strung up for being blasphemous interlopers and have nowhere else to turn...
we can always try yoga, or find a good drug dealer.
thank ya, jesus!!! fall doth come(th).
speaking of jesus...oqui and I have been batting around the idea of adding a little faith to our lives. we've recently come to the long overdue conclusion that we're cranky, kermudgeon, rat-fink bastards and prolly need to change our outlook(s) a bit.
enter the jesus peeps. these motherfuckers are always so goddamn (no offense to my jesus peeps) fucking happy.
happy. happy. disgustingly, sickeningly happy.
I want in.
problem is...neither one of us even remotely believes in jesus. in fact, oqui is openly antagonistic about the concept and I'm afeared that should he set foot in a place of worship, he'd instantly combust.
I, myself, am mostly agnostic with a heavy side of atheism. I TRIED to believe. trust in suki...there was a time in my life in which I actively sought faith. I went to mosques, chapels, mass, temples...
I even went so far as to join a rite of christian initiation for adult's class (not just for the tuition discount at catholic school, either) during which I told a little ol' nun that I prayed for faith. BEGGED for belief. asked for the faith of Job (you know, the guy who kept get his ass handed to him by god but refused to denouce him)....
and nothing. I asked the lil' ol' nun...how can that be? doth not god hear and answer our prayers.
she resorted to honesty with me. she started with, "I don't know" and followed up with the advice that if I really wanted to believe...I had to stop trying to do so intellectually and just take the leap.
she was sweet. she also told me that she didn't believe every word in the catechism (ie. that unbaptised babies go to hell) and that you have to pick and choose your religious battles...
which led me to the muslims.
islam is a great way to become a die-hard, complete and total hypocrite. the scriptual expectations are set so incredibly high that noone (NOONE) can live up to them...and thusly get very good at rationalizing their transgressions.
the catholics, are also good at this from what I hear.
so, oqui and I are half seriously considering heading to church for at least the social benefits...all the while keeping eyes peeled for a non-religious alternative. (from what I remember of my preacher's kid days...church goers aren't always the happy mofos they appear to be. has something changed since I last dared to do the wafer?)
I suppose if we go to church, get strung up for being blasphemous interlopers and have nowhere else to turn...
we can always try yoga, or find a good drug dealer.
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