the boys
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Sunday, November 05, 2006
Friday, March 10, 2006
Sunday, Alone in Community
From Last Sunday
This morning I really don't feel like going to church, I hate not knowing who I'll sit with or if I'll know anyone. Last week I sat near the front of the congregation and no one sat within two rows of me. About six minutes into the service the pastor came and sat with me. I laughed and laughed. I wondered if people realized it was a pity sit and that I don't really know the pastor all that well. Now whenever I see people next to the pastor I'm going to assume they are pity sits.
Here are a couple stories about first time church experiences for me. When I moved down to Portland I didn't have a church, sadly when I left Portland I didn't have a church either. I used to study at a Starbucks which happened to be the nexus point for all the Bible colleges in the city, and there were always Bibles out on the tables. So I asked around, I wanted to see where all these young, pretty Christians were going. One of the churches I was told about was a baptist church, I asked the girls who told me about if it would be alright if I sat with them if I came. They reassured me and I went to church that Sunday. I sat down with the girls for about five minutes, then as church started they all got up and left. In their place six mentally handicap people descended on my position, I was surrounded. I guess this church has a pretty active ministry for the mentally disabled.
Anyway, it was a really great sermon despite the fellow next to me rubbing my thigh every couple minutes and the random claps and chirps that chorused from our area. Add to it, I'm not sure other people realized that I wasn't one of these fellows. Good times, good times.
Another first church experience for me was at Imago Dei, the church that the author of "Blue Like Jazz" goes to in Portland. It is an amazing church, pretty much made up of hippies and yuppies. Anyway, I found out about this church from a girl who I was supposed to go on a blind date with. She was only going to be in town for the weekend and wanted to head to this church, so our date took place at church. Lame eh?
I woke up early that morning because I didn't know the location of the church. It was the beginning of Spring and there was still a chill in the morning. I decided to wear a shirt and black sweater. My theory was that if I should happen to sweat at all, she wouldn't be able to tell. Sweating in front of people is one of the most frightening things I can think of. Anyway, I left about forty minutes early and I ended walking around this beautiful park that is apparently known as the best place for lesbians to walk their dogs. It was really peaceful and really nice, people were practicing fly fishing and it was really beautiful.
My "date" finally arrived. We sat down on the side of the church with just a couple of seats beside us vacant. A fellow mentioned quite a lot in the book "Blue Like Jazz" sat down beside us, his name is Tony, in the book he is called Tony the Beat Poet, I think. Church began and it was really cool. They talked about current events, genocides in other countries, as they were an active church in the affairs of the world. This was awesome for me because I find that American news is a little egocentric and they don't mention a country unless they are attacking it. Now as I mentioned before, I have a fear of sweating in front of people, only two other things really freak me out, having to pray in front of other people, and public urination. These three things make up my holy trinity of fears. Anyway, after telling us about Serbia or Somalia or something the leader asks us to get in groups of two or three and pray for the situation over there.... My sympathetic system fired up in about ten seconds flat. My fight or flight response was at its absolute peak. I couldn't run obviously, and I couldn't fight my way out, so my brain chose the next most logical action, I began to sweat, I realized that I was sweating, and this added to the fear. I began sweating harder, and I had to pray in public... and of all the times for something like this to happen, it has to happen on a first date, next to a relatively famous-ish Christian. Kill me now. The only thing I can imagine that would have made it worse was if I pissed my pants, thankfully, that didn't happen.
So after awkwardly managing the prayer session we sat back down, the church sermon was a long one and we were stuck sitting for some time. As we got up to leave I realized, I'm stuck! I have become adhered to the pew. Was this some act of God telling me that I needed to spend more time in the church, or to stick around afterwards to be prayed over? No, it was none of those things. After sweating through my shirt and my sweater, the sweater had fused and dried to the varnish that they used on the pew. I began to stand up and... you know that awkward moment when you are at a party and you're having a goofy conversation but the music is loud so no one can hear you... and then the music stops and end up saying something really horrible and everyone hears it? Well, this was one of those moments times ten. As I stood up, you could see the stretch of the sweater as it peeled off of the pew, and you could hear an audible rrriiippp. Not only that, you could see bits of black fuzz, stuck to the pew afterwards. It was one of those moments where you knew it was really horrible but you knew you'd be laughing about it for years to come.
So there you have it, a couple stories about church experiences that were entirely awkward and could really only happen to a person like me. I dare anyone to venture a worse story. Oh, and a little update, I never saw the girls from the baptist church ever again, if I had, they would probably have gottent the bird, and the Imago Dei date never returned my call. But she wasn't a prize either, so there.
Well off to church.
This morning I really don't feel like going to church, I hate not knowing who I'll sit with or if I'll know anyone. Last week I sat near the front of the congregation and no one sat within two rows of me. About six minutes into the service the pastor came and sat with me. I laughed and laughed. I wondered if people realized it was a pity sit and that I don't really know the pastor all that well. Now whenever I see people next to the pastor I'm going to assume they are pity sits.
Here are a couple stories about first time church experiences for me. When I moved down to Portland I didn't have a church, sadly when I left Portland I didn't have a church either. I used to study at a Starbucks which happened to be the nexus point for all the Bible colleges in the city, and there were always Bibles out on the tables. So I asked around, I wanted to see where all these young, pretty Christians were going. One of the churches I was told about was a baptist church, I asked the girls who told me about if it would be alright if I sat with them if I came. They reassured me and I went to church that Sunday. I sat down with the girls for about five minutes, then as church started they all got up and left. In their place six mentally handicap people descended on my position, I was surrounded. I guess this church has a pretty active ministry for the mentally disabled.
Anyway, it was a really great sermon despite the fellow next to me rubbing my thigh every couple minutes and the random claps and chirps that chorused from our area. Add to it, I'm not sure other people realized that I wasn't one of these fellows. Good times, good times.
Another first church experience for me was at Imago Dei, the church that the author of "Blue Like Jazz" goes to in Portland. It is an amazing church, pretty much made up of hippies and yuppies. Anyway, I found out about this church from a girl who I was supposed to go on a blind date with. She was only going to be in town for the weekend and wanted to head to this church, so our date took place at church. Lame eh?
I woke up early that morning because I didn't know the location of the church. It was the beginning of Spring and there was still a chill in the morning. I decided to wear a shirt and black sweater. My theory was that if I should happen to sweat at all, she wouldn't be able to tell. Sweating in front of people is one of the most frightening things I can think of. Anyway, I left about forty minutes early and I ended walking around this beautiful park that is apparently known as the best place for lesbians to walk their dogs. It was really peaceful and really nice, people were practicing fly fishing and it was really beautiful.
My "date" finally arrived. We sat down on the side of the church with just a couple of seats beside us vacant. A fellow mentioned quite a lot in the book "Blue Like Jazz" sat down beside us, his name is Tony, in the book he is called Tony the Beat Poet, I think. Church began and it was really cool. They talked about current events, genocides in other countries, as they were an active church in the affairs of the world. This was awesome for me because I find that American news is a little egocentric and they don't mention a country unless they are attacking it. Now as I mentioned before, I have a fear of sweating in front of people, only two other things really freak me out, having to pray in front of other people, and public urination. These three things make up my holy trinity of fears. Anyway, after telling us about Serbia or Somalia or something the leader asks us to get in groups of two or three and pray for the situation over there.... My sympathetic system fired up in about ten seconds flat. My fight or flight response was at its absolute peak. I couldn't run obviously, and I couldn't fight my way out, so my brain chose the next most logical action, I began to sweat, I realized that I was sweating, and this added to the fear. I began sweating harder, and I had to pray in public... and of all the times for something like this to happen, it has to happen on a first date, next to a relatively famous-ish Christian. Kill me now. The only thing I can imagine that would have made it worse was if I pissed my pants, thankfully, that didn't happen.
So after awkwardly managing the prayer session we sat back down, the church sermon was a long one and we were stuck sitting for some time. As we got up to leave I realized, I'm stuck! I have become adhered to the pew. Was this some act of God telling me that I needed to spend more time in the church, or to stick around afterwards to be prayed over? No, it was none of those things. After sweating through my shirt and my sweater, the sweater had fused and dried to the varnish that they used on the pew. I began to stand up and... you know that awkward moment when you are at a party and you're having a goofy conversation but the music is loud so no one can hear you... and then the music stops and end up saying something really horrible and everyone hears it? Well, this was one of those moments times ten. As I stood up, you could see the stretch of the sweater as it peeled off of the pew, and you could hear an audible rrriiippp. Not only that, you could see bits of black fuzz, stuck to the pew afterwards. It was one of those moments where you knew it was really horrible but you knew you'd be laughing about it for years to come.
So there you have it, a couple stories about church experiences that were entirely awkward and could really only happen to a person like me. I dare anyone to venture a worse story. Oh, and a little update, I never saw the girls from the baptist church ever again, if I had, they would probably have gottent the bird, and the Imago Dei date never returned my call. But she wasn't a prize either, so there.
Well off to church.
This Madness created by The Awkward Pause
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Sunday, December 11, 2005
A Black Day
Okay, everyone has there superstitions right? In the book I was reading, four yellow cars in a row meant it was going to be a very bad day. I think if I was going to have a black day it would be based on what I experienced in the morning. For example, this morning I was sitting on the toilet. My mother insisted on talking to me through the door. This makes it a black day for me. I can't really think of anything more uncomfortable than talking while one is on a toilet. I'm a big stickler for bathroom etiquette.
RULES OF THE BATHROOM:
RULES OF THE BATHROOM:
- Do Not talk to me when I'm in the bathroom, I have pressing matters that need to be addressed and I don't want my mind in other places.
- In a public washroom, do not stand next to me, this will surely keep me from peeing. Once in grade 11 I had to go to the washroom at MissionsFest in Vancouver, and it was crowded and I couldn't pee at all. I looked silly there standing for eight minutes trying to pee.
- If for some reason I end up in a bathroom stall, do not throw wet paper towels at me over the partition. That is just mean!
- Do not listen at the door and ask me if I'm peeing. Janie, that is just strange.
- Do not describe the loud peeing noise that you might have heard. Anika, because of you I have to pee sitting down to limit the loud pee sound.
- Do not send your children in next to me to distract and taunt me while I'm peeing.
- Do not open the washroom door in a restaurant and call in after me. Where did you learn to do that anyway?
- Do not pee in places that are not marked as bathrooms and tell me about it. I don't need to know. If you pee on a fence at Bard on the Beach, keep it to yourself. Sure it might make for an interesting story but now I know that you've just touched your penis and haven't washed your hands.
- Do not shake my back around while I'm peeing. I've seen this done and it is very scary.
- Do not look through the cracks on the partition in public washrooms to try and figure out who is on the toilet.
- Do not look over or under the partition on a toilet to try and find an identifiable characteristic of a person, such as his/her shoes.
- Goal oriented washroom use is essential in life, keep the eyes on the prize, don't deviate and leave others to their own concerns.
So there you have it, 12 rules for washroom use around me, I've left 13-45 off, as they are slightly repetitive and involve preparation, the no touch anything rule and various other insights.
You may notice that I have problems, I realize this and I'm working on it. Two years ago for Christmas I told Jordie, my brother-in-law, that my present for him was going to be public urination, since he knew it was kind of a phobia. We were going to pee off of the balcony of our cruise ship, which didn't seem like the best idea, but if you are going to address a phobia, it might work quite well. We couldn't complete the mentioned gift because the balcony was layered in such a way that we would have been peeing into the balcony right below us. This year we may try it again as we are on a different ship for Christmas and it might have a different layout. Probably should leave it to the last day as I don't really want to get kicked off the ship on the first day.
This Madness created by The Awkward Pause
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