I called them cappatillers. And still sometimes mess it up after mentioning it. Except now I want to call them marvelous butterflies for ever and ever.

I am sorry the Church is causing such pain. It hurts me to read about because I have such dear people still quite involved with it and so I know it's not just your diocese.

Oh god.

Last night the electricity flicked on and off a couple of times. And I thought no more of it.

Well, today, my apartment has been ridiculously hot. I just figured it was - well, the weather. But then, I kept hearing this clicking sound. I just checked my heater and it's running. No doubt when the lights flicked on and off last night the heat came on.

And my flashlight is dead and the light in the basement next door (where the fusebox is) is out.

candle?

I don't think I have one that would work.

He's fired all the Spanish speakers on the parish payroll, alienated both the liberals and the conservatives, and gotten in a shouting match with the two most dedicated parishioners they'd ever had and essentially fired them from the parish.

Wow, that's kind of astonishing.

It's so awful. There are so many good and valuable people in the church and affiliated with the church, and then there's the church hierarchy, and the abusers, and the cover-uppers, and the people who define pedophilia as only sexual contact with children under ten, which means that the abusive priests aren't really pedophiles after all.

It makes me want to spit.

Cass, Suela, I almost feel like it'd be easier if I were more agnostic--I'd be able to say fuck the hierarchy, I don't need this shit, and walk away. But upbringing, study and personal experience (along with probably just plain wiring; I know there's some neuro research that suggests that some people are neurologically wired for faith) have conspired to make me actually believe it. Eternal inconceivable creator become a small smelly human baby, grown to adulthood and emptied out for all of us, transubstantiation and sacred confession and the communion of souls and the whole nine yards.

I'm just faithful enough to want to stay in the one church that teaches the stuff that pings me to the core, and just educated enough to know all the doctrines that allow for wiggle room and admit of less-than-absolutes, especially WRT gender and hierarchy, so when the hierarchs throw bullshit down, instead of saying, "That's bullshit and I don't need it; goodbye," I dig in my heels and say, "That's bullshit and you're wrong and I'm right, and if you want me to leave you're going to have to physically throw me out."

I swear, sometimes I feel like Lucy in The Wolves in the Walls, down in the garden and feeling grouchy because I could make a home somewhere else, but what I really want is for the rest of the family to get some spine so we can march back up the hill and kick the goddamn wolves out. It's our house and we're not the wolves, they are. Why the fuck should we leave?

I have absolutely no clue what was the first 45/album I bought. I would have been a kid, around 9 or so, so it was probably something easy-listening-ish like Little River Band or Air Supply.

Aw, love for the Aussie easy listening.

I don't recall my first album (I think it might have been Peter Pan), but the first CDs I bought were Phil Collins' But Seriously and the Beatles' Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

I'm sorry about all the diocese conflict, JZ.

JZ, that's so hard. I'm glad you hae your faith, though.

The neighbors got us really drunk. T Hat was fun.

It's our house and we're not the wolves, they are. Why the fuck should we leave?

The church needs more of you, I think. That's the only way.