Blackmail, Bribery, Life

They're just different words for the same thing.

That's what I told my sister when she was being difficult. I threatened that I wouldn't recommend anymore good books for her unless she cut it out and responded to my inquiry in a straightforward manner.

It worked.

(Evil laugh.)

Of course, now I have to look for more reading material for her. Ah, what a hardship ...

The kittens are doing well.

You know, stress makes me tired, but anticipation keeps me awake. So here I am, it's near 11pm (Don't think that's late? I usually go to bed nearer 9pm.), and I'm posting. My test is on May 6th. By now you all know that I failed the last one; this is what some might call a last chance. My opportunity to prove that I'm serious about wanting to work and support myself in a field where I have studied for 4 years. Whether because I didn't study hard enough, or because it is simply impossible for me to move my fingers fast enough (not really an option -- I have passed fast tests), if I don't pass this test --

Let's just say I have an overwhelming feeling that I could never live it down. I hate failing. I don't do it very often. Maybe that's because I don't try things I might not be able to do, but it's a fact. And now I'm getting to the point where I just don't want to talk about it. If someone asks me how my studying is going, I have to consciously steel myself to politely say, "I'm doing fine. We'll see what happens." It's the not knowing that kills you, as I've heard others acknowledge.

Maybe I'll just write some famous books and become a rich author. No, wait, isn't that word pairing on the list of oxymorons?

Heidi

I Saw a Dog Today

Not that I don't see dogs all the time. I have a dog. Or, rather, an eighth of a dog. Just yesterday the neighbor's undersized foot-stool was threatening to committ mayhem upon my person if I came one step nearer the fence.

I was driving along today, window down, singing along to Heart's "Straight On," and I saw a truck stop at the four-way stop I was approaching. It caught my attention, because the driver didn't seem to realize it was a four-way and she (he? I think she) just sat there for several seconds until it became apparent that I was also stopping. The dog was in the truck's bed, standing as tall as it could hanging its head over the side in the breeze.

Now, this happens all the time around here, but what caught my attention was the straining that poor animal had to do to get his little pug nose properly in the air. Yep, the lady had a pug in the back of her truck. At first I thought it was a little one, then I saw the mound of fawn-colored fur and realize that he was as big as a medium-sized bulldog. And probably fatter.

I want a pug.

Or maybe a chihuahua.

Or maybe a great Dane.

German shepherds are nice.

I don't really like greyhounds. Too skinny. My friend has one, and the bones on that thing ...

If I'm going to have a smelly, slobbery dog, it will at least be cushy and pettable. And cute. And friendly. And not too smelly.

Maybe I'll just get a cat.

Sacrilegious Easter?

I went to see the 'No Greater Love' Easter pageant at a nearby church.

Plays and pageants involving Jesus always make me feel faintly uncomfortable. A bit like blasphemy is going on right in front of me, and if I don't keep an iron control on myself I might accidentally join it.

From the time I was about 14 and I participated in a showing of 'The Tree' to Friday night, whenever my emotional strings are pulled by music or movie or whatever, I can feel myself tense up and my heart becomes a rock.

(For those of you who don't know, 'The Tree' is a play or impressionistic pageant portraying Eve / humankind being tempted by a tree / Satan / various demons. There is a Jesus figure who tries to prevent her inevitable downfall and is later crucified.)

When I played in this pageant, I was terrible. I cannot disguise my feelings enough to act on stage; I am simply too self-conscious. As I was playing a demon / tree limb, I was supposed to swagger on across the stage and slam a nail into the hand of this boy who was playing Jesus. I'm positive I had a rictus grin plastered across my face the entire time, and I think I almost dropped the hammer. On second thought, that grin should have been plenty scary. I was also blushing like anything, which I do quite easily. And, of course, to top it all off, the boy who was playing Jesus was, shall I say, not the ugliest in the class.

Last night, the music was wonderful and engaging, the singing was both tuneful and heartfelt, and when Jesus was crucified and then resurrected and the disciples fell at his feet and worshipped, right there on stage -- ah, but there, they lost me. I remember another pageant I saw many, many years ago, where the crucifixion was off-stage -- I didn't like it at the time, but now I feel it would be preferable.

I am always of two minds when I watch a portrayal of Jesus. Part of me is overawed by the actual majesty and poignancy of the sacrifice He made for us. And then the other half is critical. How dare we even attempt to have another person act Jesus? Are we being idolatrous by having a type of icon which people are bowing down to? I know it's only on stage, but still ...

I had the same feeling when I watched The Passion. There have been many different people playing Jesus over the years, which I definitely prefer to having one, overarching personification. That, I believe, would be even more dangerous. I don't think that the people who are acting want to worship the man who acts as Jesus, but I can't help but feel that it is extremely dangerous to even make-belive to adore and worship another person. I don't think the man who plays Jesus is trying to garner any backsplash from the emotion of the moment -- but I know that I would feel extremely uncomfortable portraying anyone being worshipped. It smacks of blasphemy of the Holy Spirit, and that is something I wish to avoid.

Of course, I feel uncomfortable playing at being anyone besides myself, and sometimes I even feel silly doing that!


Sorry, Liz, I know this isn't the sarcastic / chipper note you were hoping for. However, on a lighter note, the kittens are all doing fine and Beth and I had a long discussion about whether I was behaving like a gypsy, American, bohemian, or a citizen of another country altogether. I should have suggested another planet. Ah, well, there's always next time!

Heidi