Ah Bugger

The vapid utterings of a neurotic mind.

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Location: DC, United States

I ain't too proud to bug.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Teenage angst-like poetry

I let myself fall one time
Believing in my heart that he was all mine
And I made that mistake over and over again
I lost so much of myself back then

Running, and getting no where at all
Step after step, I keep waiting for the fall
Has the life I live passed me by
Am I now just waiting for the day I die?

It feels like all the choices have been made
The future before me leaves me so afraid
I am caught running on this wheel
Too broken to allow myself to feel


I don’t want any of it back
I just want to get my life back on track
You don’t need to interfere
Maybe I just need time to find the right gear

Mormon?

First off I want to say that I analyze everything too much and if you don't agree with me, or have no interest in reading an opinion that is not your own, move along. This is just something that was on my mind today, and I felt like writing about it.

Is it just me, or is the whole basis behind Joseph Smith’s creation of the Mormon faith just a bit shady. First, some golden tablet that no one else sees is revealed to him by an angel named Moroni. Now, maybe it is true… or else Mr. Smith paid tribute to the current president of the time, James Monroe. OR the whole thing was a joke and he named the angel “Moroni” because only a moron would fall for this?
I am getting myself in deep here with Mormons. Hey, I think if you have faith in a higher power, that is a wonderful thing and no one can take it away from you. I just question the origins of this particular faith a bit, perhaps because it is easily traceable, having been created less than 200 years ago.
What happened to the golden tablet? Why could Joseph Smith only read it when he was wearing his special hat? (I read that he had to omit any light in order to read the tablets, and that is why he wore the hat.. or maybe it was to hide the fact that there were no golden tablets?)
His father-in-law wanted to see these tablets. Joseph refused permission. Joseph said that, if anyone besides himself looked at the golden plates, it would mean instant death for the person. . Ya. Apparently, no one else could read the tablets anyway, could they have seen them. The only person who happened to have the decoder was… You guessed it! Joseph Smith. Convenient.
So anyway, a vision that he had said to him that HE should start a church and HE should be the leader of it. Fishy. So he went from being a treasure hunter to a church leader…
I am sorry to offend those who have belief in his deeds, but as an American I can proudly question whatever the hell I wanna. I question the living bejesus out of Joseph Smith’s story. According to the scriptures which Joseph was translating, Christ himself had come to America before his ascension. (Because we know how easy travel was during those days… especially across a myriad of seas.)
I do not know why the sudden Anti-Joseph Smith rant. I have never thought he was a very believable person. I am a little scared to travel to Salt Lake City and the shows I have seen on some of the polygamous routines of some people, (which I understand now to not be sanctified by the Mormon Church, but was a huge part of Joseph Smith’s ideal lifestyle, much to the chagrin of his wife Emma), horrifies my senses.
But I do like almost every Mormon I have ever met. I love the fact that so many Mormon families adopt children and raise good people. I love the elders in their little suits on their bicycles. I adore that these kids go around and spread the word about their faith. I think the Mormon Temple in Rockville is beautiful, like the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. I totally went to a Mormon Church every Sunday I was in Fredericksburg in the summers of my youth and loved every minute of it.
But whatever happened to those golden tablets?

Monday, January 16, 2006

I forgot my dreidel.

Hanumas took place at Marci's home this year. With matzo ball soup, latkes, mulled wine and cookies being prepared in the kitchen, Jen found herself with the Christmas salad ingredients in the living room. The ginger dressing on that salad rocked my wee little world!


Meanwhile, these two rounded up trouble in the kitchen. (get it? Matzo balls, rounded... Ha!)
I really just stood around waiting to be fed, entertained and lavished with gifts.
Whilst the soup and simmered, the ladies enjoyed some Hanumas wine on "Troy", Marci's sofa. There was a passionate discussion of whatever Jewish knowledge we have. I talked about a movie I saw "Rosenstrasse" and, in typical Bug fashion, forgot my point halfway through telling them about it. But, in not typical Bug fashion, I just stopped talking, as opposed to trying to figure it out. (Much to the delight of my fellow Hanumas celebrants.) Soon enough, a delightful meal was served. (To two gangstas?)


Doesn't everyone seem to be enjoying themselves?

This picture is meant to help you feel like you were there. Ah, the Holiday plunger! (Thank you Mama Bug who graciously redecorated it this year. What a beautiful job you did. Thanks!)
Look at all the presents!


I think the words on the tv screen really capture the moment... Or does that just sound weird?
These girls are excited about some gifts! Jen gave me two cast iron skillets. So I browned some meat and had to go buy a dish washing brush.

I am sad to report that we did not come up with new stanzas of Dreidel, but we did sing and do a little dance to finish off the night.

Happy Hanumas, everyone. Keep the delight of holidays with the best people you know alive!

Separated at Birth?

Did the Star Wars kid grow up to be the lead singer of Death Cab for Cutie?


What's the Frequency?

It’s too loud in my head. I wish I could do something to make it quiet down. Interesting how if I just read someone else stating that, I would think they were completely crazy. Yet, I don’t think I am crazy...at least not completely, anyway. I feel like I am working to progress my life. I am working, going to school and trying to take on an internship in order to make myself that much more qualified for life. Still, I feel like I am running on a hamster wheel. How can I claim control of my life? How do I accept the good things and alleviate the bad? When do I just accept that I am who I am and that is just the way it is?
I feel terrible about feeling terrible. What right do I have? Am I just an entitled bitch who feels the world should cater to her every whim? (Yes)
How do I stop myself from spilling my guts to people? It is horrifying trait that makes me backpedal so furiously that I could outrace Lance Armstrong. Then suddenly, this person with whom I had a nice connection is someone I don’t want to face anymore, because they know too much about me.
If only I could find a safe medium where I could relax and enjoy myself and still feel safe.
In the meantime, how do I shut the noise off in my head?