it is in the Bible

9-18-99

So, when people are married, do they still celebrate the anniversary they had before they were married? John's and my anniversary, the dating kind, is tomorrow. Maybe we have only been married for two months, but we've been together for four years now. That's longer than many couples our age stay married.

Ahh, none of my friends are on ICQ or AOL IM on this fine Saturday night. Can't really blame them. I've always thought we're maybe just a bunch of losers, sitting up late with our myopic eyes glued to the screen. At least I don't go in chat rooms any more, unless it's to fuck with people's heads. All in fun, of course.

Sheesh, I'm a devil sometimes.

Hey, speaking of devils, I got my application materials from the church music school today. There are a bunch of introductory materials about the dress code (no t-shirts advertising "rock/rap groups,) missions statements, and stuff, and then the real application. The first page is standard, but the second page...well.... There are three questions on the third page. 1. Before I was saved..... 2. How I heard the gospel of Jesus Christ... 3. Since I have been saved.....

All sic on those ellipses, by the way.

My first impulse, which I followed, was to calmly close the folder and go shopping. I figured I'd wait for them to call me.

(I did go shopping today; I bought two books, two gel pens and a couple of earrings. One of the earrings has a little rainbow bead on it – ooh, I wonder what my church friends will think of that. And hey – one of the gel pens is a "rainbow writer," but it's only that part of the rainbow concerned with blue and purple. I don't know if a rainbow means the same thing around here, anyway. There aren't too terribly many out people in an air force town, especially one in the South.

Am I rambling? I've been reading essays by David Foster Wallace all week. Actually, I've been reading this ONE ESSAY for a week. He wrote about a weeklong Carribbean cruise, and it's taking me longer to read the 97 page monster than the cruise itself took. Of course, I only get to read for about 15 minutes before I fall asleep at night. Maybe I should make this a footnote.)

My second impulse was to call my mother and see what she thought of it. I called her around 10 this evening and read her the questions. She thought I should sugar up the truth a little by telling the church that I am a good Methodist. I want to tell them the truth. I am a good Methodist. I do have good moral standards, excepting that part about living in sin for three years. And lusting after female tennis players.

Oh, and I'm pro-choice; is that bad? And – oh, yeah, I have this journal on the internet, and I, uh, well....

Shit.

I encourage my students to listen to rock music. I used to have these great conversations with Tyler about Aerosmith. With Matt about the Cherry Poppin' Daddies. I even tried to get Lindsey to play Backstreet Boys tunes. I'm sure I could study up on Christian rock, but, crap, I don't want to. It's great to use music when "celebrating God's glory," but if you only listen to "God's music," what are you depriving yourself of?

I'm reminded of the time, maybe ten years ago, when my cousin Michael was miserable with his mother and stepfather out in Connecticut and wanted to move back to Indiana, where he and his mother had lived before her re-marriage. (Incidentally, I just love my Uncle Bob. He's an 80-ish doter, and while my 50-ish Aunt Bev is the primary dotee, I get some residual doting whenever I visit.) Michael wanted to move in with our other aunt and her family. That aunt and uncle, and their kids, are very religious. Before Michael moved in, they gave him a list off all the tapes he'd have to get rid of and all the TV shows he would have to stop watching. I think he lived there for about two weeks before he went back to his mother's.

I wonder if they'd listen to Richard Strauss? His opera, Salome, is based on a story that's in the Bible, after all. The Dance of the Seven Veils is performed nude, but it's in the Bible. And all. And maybe the Salome character does sometimes emulate oral sex with the severed head of John the Baptist. sigh.... It's in the Bible....

Well, maybe that part's not in the Bible.

Came home and cleaned out the closet. John's been talking about moving to a bigger place, and I finally saw why. I was gazing at the shoe rack. The cramped-together furniture, I can deal with; the lack of counter space doesn't bother me much; the lack of closet space started to get to me and then I saw that little shoe rack and I thought: "Gee. Why on earth would they put a shoe rack that small in here? Oh...maybe this place was meant for one person...."

I don't care about the shoe rack. Really. I don't need it. But maybe this apartment is a tiny bit, well, tiny.

While at work, I often get bored and scribble junk in my journal. Just like when I used to scribble poetry in the margins of my notebooks during psychology lectures. This afternoon I jotted the forms for a villanelle and a sestina in the back of my journal, so I can doodle ideas for those while I'm expediting orders for rubber hose clamps.