1. Talking with one of my online friends on Friday, he asked if I believed in religion.
I told him no.
He asked, “Why not?”
I’m more inclined to think when asked that way, “Why should I?” but replied more simply: “I don’t like the bars around my thinking. I don’t like the limits. It doesn’t suit me.”
“Do you know the difference between secular government and religion?” he asked but didn’t wait for the immediate answer I had for that: “Law just tells you what you can and cannot do. Religion tells you how to think for yourself.”
I almost laughed when he said that. Nothing has been further from my experience. Back in my religious days, I recall religion telling me what to think and do; not HOW to think for myself. Religion damned much of what I am in both senses of the word. Breaking free was a mind opening experience. But I just gave him the cliff notes version of that.
Later I was telling him how my 2nd husband used to jangle my nerves all the time by continually exploding about things that happened in his life that, mostly, I’d had nothing to do with. He’d yell about being teased on the bus as a kindergartener. He’d yell about the traffic on his way home from work…. He’d yell and he’d throw things constantly. I got so used to it I’d anticipate it the moment he came home and it would give me stomach cramps. In response, my energies would run a little wild and fry his treasured electronics on occasion. Well, not “fry” exactly; just put out of commission for a while.
I never hurt him personally with those energies, though I saw his hair lift once as an energy ball flew from my solar plexus, skimmed his head, and then landed in his stereo system and television, which immediately shut off and couldn’t be turned back on for a few hours.
My friend assumed that I meant I’d simply broken the equipment. I hadn’t, of course, but I let him believe this far simpler idea. But even so…. hm. I couldn’t believe what he said next: “But it was good.”
“What was good?”
“That he yelled a lot and kept you on your toes.”
“Excuse me?” I asked. “How can you call that good? It made me sick to my stomach and unable to really control my energy around him.”
I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume he didn’t understand about the energy, let alone female psychology.
“But it was good, you see, because most women like that. It keeps them from becoming bored with a man.” He then went on to explain how men could better “protect” women by making them scared around them. I forget the exact words he used, but something along those lines.
More correctly, I thought, it keeps them from wanting to be around such men. I didn’t want to talk to him much longer. I don’t dislike him or anything for his honest opinions, I just totally don’t identify.
I also told him about how laws didn’t protect women in Iran, but only protected the right of the men in their life to either kill them or make them obedient. I pointed out that too often it’s the men in these women’s lives they need protecting from.
He just didn’t get it. I think he tought this a perfect situation for men and women to be in. Need I even bother to say how vehemently I disagree?
2. Cleaning the cat box downstairs on Friday, I heard meowing out back. Our wild kitty, Muffin, doesn’t meow much, so I was certain it had to be Phoebe, who’d right away climbed a tall tree when she went out on Monday and we’d been able neither to reach her nor coax her down. So I went to check.
She wasn’t at the door. I called her again. Nothing. I thought I must have imagined it.
I was just cleaning the guinea pig cage when I heard it again.
This time she was at the back door. She’d gotten down! I picked her up and cuddled her, never mind the pine needles stuck to her fur. She purred her heart out… up until Jeb came down and insisted she have a bath before letting her roam the house free.
Phoebe HATES baths so it took both us to get her bathed. Afterwards, though, bundled in towels, she was soon purring again.
She got even with us though. She kept us up all night, scratching and meowing at the door for attention. I finally let her in. She hopped on the bed and soon chased Jeb out with her constant anxious attentions.
In the morning, Jeb told me that he hadn’t slept well because his office floor was rather hard.
I stared at him. Asked, “Why did you sleep on the garage floor? Wasn’t it rather hard and cold? Why not on the couch in the living room?”
He stared back.
“I said my office, not the garage. Too noisy with the aquarium pumps and the crickets out in the living room.”
Don’t know why I said “garage.” I never know what’s going to come out of my mouth first thing in the morning. LOL.
3. Saturday afternoon and evening was really nice. We kidnapped my daughter Amy from her hubby and kidlings and went out to dinner at Emory’s on the shore of Lake Stevens. We got to sit out on the deck and enjoy the warm summer breezes and the fresh lakeside ambience.
Afterward, we went to see that movie The Mortal Instruments: The City of Bones. It was a lot of fun and it’s way too tempting to tell you all about it, but I don’t want to spoil it for anyone. Ended with quite of few threads dangling though, which exasperated Amy and Jeb but cheered me. This means there will be sequels. Yay!
4. Amy has a new nickname for me… at least I think it’s a nickname. She says I’m “Adorkable” because of my habit of arm dancing constantly. Other people just yawn and stretch… I do belly dancing arm movements, sometime sneaky on the sly and sometimes in full grand scale. Hey, it works for me. It doesn’t really look too odd does it? I’m sure I’m not the only one who does this.
How was your weekend?