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Nice long talk with Paul last night/this morning – we woke up at 3:10 am but that is manageable when you’re in bed at 8:30 pm. He still hasn’t given me any specific directions about how I’m supposed to talk to him, but as saying nothing is still an option, that will be my default when things get hairy.

Went over to Peggy’s last night to tell the horrid news about how I have given it the old college try but can’t do the church thing anymore, and she fed me anyway. Or rather Tom and Peggy did. Still can’t believe that they let me slice the barbequeued pork – I nearly ate it all before it ended up in the wok. I was safer with the broccoli. Paul fell asleep on the GSM after dinner (Giant Sofa of Morpheus) so I dragged him out of there so he could sleep in his own bed.

Saw Emrys earlier and contracted to do a reading for her before she heads out of town to the wilds of Ottawa. The cards are being very cooperative, so I told her the timing was good.

Paul had a lovely visit with his mother. Brief and lovely. He really enjoyed hanging around with his siblings, which is no surprise, as they are all extremely wonderful people.

Will be getting back in touch with David Granirer and some of the other comedy types in town now that I know where I have to go serve my apprenticeship. Oh, the work involved… but it’s good to stop being so scared and start being engaged.

From now until the end of December is going to be full of goodbyes, and that is going to be hard, but I am really looking forward to 2005, and that wasn’t true a week ago. I am not feeling completely overwhelmed by all the feelings I’m not supposed to feel and the thoughts I’m not supposed to think. I spend my whole life wondering if I’ve packed the right ideas for the situations I find myself in; I’ve always packed stink bombs instead of presents when I’m going to a wedding. Or I’ve got a tux for mosh pit. Or I’m bringing a colicky baby to the theatre. I have a long history of social inappropriateness, which has gone from being agonizing to being amusing, one of the more pleasant things about getting older. People don’t expect me to be socially appropriate once they get to know me, or they get used to the way I don’t do things as they are supposed to be done. I don’t think people ever get used to the way I am so very inconsistent about following directions; it’s a trial. The hardest part about church is playing nice in situations where, to quote Dunnett, I am aching ‘to cut loose and do something silly’. I think people believe I do it too much already; it was but the tiniest fraction of what I wanted to do. All these bite marks on my tongue. Sigh. Oh well. The church was there for years before I came along and it’ll be there for years after I leave, thank goodness. In the words of the immortal W C Fields “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No sense being a damned fool about it.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about it – obviously. Church is a really safe place to be sad, a safe place to be happy, a safe place to be confused about the meaning of life, a safe place to learn about spirituality. But it’s a really unsafe place to be if your limbic system is acting up. Fighting and f*cking just don’t seem to go along with church. It troubles me that two such important aspects of human life have to get checked at the door or passed over with such mealy mouthed language, and in such haste. I know, I know. It’s in poor taste to even talk about it.

Everybody wants to tell stories about Loki, but he’s a pain in the ass to have at the table. And that’s all he ever wanted, really. He wanted a place at the table among the gods, and they kept saying, when you behave, when you behave. Poor Thor! The crap he took from his life Freya about being blood brother to Loki! You think YOU have problems with inlaws, you try being one of the Norse gods for two minutes. And poor Loki. Everytime he tried to do the right thing, he’d get in worse trouble that he was in before. I really identify with Loki. He meant well.

Pic is of a police dog. He is wearing night vision goggles (?) and a bulletproof vest.

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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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