Angels We Have Heard
Are High

angelic kitsch...from Hell

Cavalcade of Bad Nativities
it came upon a midnight weird

The Passion of the Tchotchke
holy week kitsch-o-rama

Stations of the Kitsch


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Friday, June 27, 2003

splish splash

I could complain about the heat, but I suppose you have plenty of people in your life already who are happy to fill that function.

Pool = Good. If you need me this weekend, I will be in the pool. I've decided to just have a standing pool party every Friday evening, which will be very close to having an actual social life if this heat keeps up. And then the big party will happen later this summer, a pool-based pirate-theme fete entitled BootyFest. Yarrrr! I still be plannin' for that one. I be placin' an order with shindigz fer some plunderin' gear and decor. I'll be servin' margaritas with lime in 'em so nobody gets the scuuurvy. Yarrrr!
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Thursday, June 26, 2003

when hotdogs get converted, are they saved?

Totally irrelevant to just about anything, but I find it fascinating: The Octodog. Really, just the phrase 'frankfurter converter' delights me.
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Wednesday, June 25, 2003


The 3rd Annual Nigerian EMail Conference

I am Mr. Laurent Mpeti Kabila, a senior assistant leader of the Revolutionary United Front of Sierra Leone.

I present to you an urgent and confidential request: I request your attendance at The 3rd Annual Nigerian EMail Conference. This is an excellent opportunity to meet your distinguished colleagues, learn new marketing techniques, and spend your hard-earned money. Attending this conference demands the highest trust, security and confidentiality between us.

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who am I?

I'm currently re-reading Wayne Muller's How, Then, Shall We Live?: Four Simple Questions That Reveal the Beauty and Meaning of Our Lives, and once again I'm finding it very nourishing. This part from the first section, Who Am I, is particularly working for me :

Accepting who we are, who we have become, our lives, our jobs, our friends, our destiny as it has evolved - this is a fruitful practice. Accepting who we are is a practice of non-harming. Sadly, much self-help literature contains seeds of harm: We are urged to remake ourselves into someone who will be spiritually or psychologically acceptable, and that acceptance is conditioned on our performance in the areas of therapy, growth, or meditation. We are still not accepting ourselves unconditionally, just as we are in this moment, with a full and joyful heart.

A more merciful practice begins with acceptance. It begins when the assumption that we were never broken, never defective. By surrendering into a deep acceptance of our own nature - rather than by tearing apart who we are - we actually make more room for genuine, rich, merciful, playful growth and change. If we feel our fundamental strength, creativity and wisdom, then change is not frightening at all. Things simply fall away when they are ready, making room for the rich harvest underneath.

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Tuesday, June 24, 2003

if at first you don't succeed, failure may just be your style: Sara and Sunday School

I made a paper flower garland last night, using the Klutz Book of Paper Flowers as a guide. They turned out really nicely; I'm going to teach a workshop on them in a few weeks. Nothing huge, just something fun for the craftier kids at church to do while their parents are hearing the adult sermon (does 'adult sermon' sound like there's nudity?). We try to give them a couple of different options every week during the summer. I don't actually teach Sunday School at St. Ned's (I decided I needed a pseud for my parish, so it's St. Ned's, in honor of Flanders), although we're starting Godly Play in the fall and I'm going to get trained on it and see if it's something I feel called to do. I taught Sunday School at my old church, and I pretty much sucked at it, although the priest in charge of the family program was great and she helped me a lot.

I wasn't a spectacular failure; I mean, nothing caught on fire, no children emerged from the room saying that maybe they wanted to give Satanism a try, I didn't break down and sob in a corner. I just didn't connect with the kids.

I've seen what it looks like when someone has that special gift with kids, and I don't see that in myself. Realistically, though, I need to at least get to a better level of comfort with groups of those who are waist-high and under. There's this horrible myth in the church that, if you're young and especially if you're female, you must enjoy working with children. That's not true so much at St. Ned's, since we believe in finding places where people can work from their giftedness, but we're, well, we're freaks. Chances are, if I do the seminary thing, my first job as a newly-minted clergychick will involve kids. So I've got to try to grow in this area.
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Sunday, June 22, 2003

the duck goes quack

The body goes OW! OW! OW! I did too much yesterday.

But, my bed looks fabulous and I slept really well in it last night. Yay!
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