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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Sunday, February 20, 2005

new section

I put my sermon up; there's a new link to the left to the place where I will be posting this sort of thing.

It's not great; there are some things I didn't develop enough. But I don't think it's the worst first sermon ever written.
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Saturday, February 19, 2005

Yay!! I preached and no one died!

How weird is it that I really liked preaching today? I mean, really liked it. It was just a six-minute homily in class, but it felt very good and right that I should be doing it.

I freaked right directly out beforehand, of course, and I didn't sleep well at all last night. I think the sermon I gave today was probably version 6.0 or so. And I don't mean small rewrites, I mean nuke-the-site-from-orbit complete do-overs.

We drew numbers at the beginning of class to see who would go first, and I was number 7, so I had to sit and squirm for a very long time.

The main feedback seemed to be that it was 'very much a Sara sermon' and that I really put myself out there. I am making a conscious effort to remind myself that it's not bad for something to be very me, since I'm not a synonym for sucktastic. It just seems that way in my brain sometimes.

I had planned to record the sermon on Dennis' digital recorder dealie. But the batteries were dead this morning. I suspect this is directly related to me playing with it earlier this week; apparently I failed the Off Switch test. I didn't have any AAA batteries around because I don't have my battery-eating antique PDA anymore.

My next assignment is a funeral sermon. Whee! The fictitious decedent is a homeless guy whose name was probably 'Mitch' and who was frequently incoherent and filthy when he came to the fictional church's lunch program. The service is for the lunch program's volunteer staff and clients. This should be interesting.

I wore my fabulous Scarf of Power today, which my friend Rita knit for me out of the most gorgeous yarn EVER, La Boheme by Fiesta. It's goldy-peachy tones with some purple mixed in. I love it! It seemed like a good thing to wear today, along with my lucky Pirate socks. Arrrrrr! Me pirate socks be clean and true today, matey.

The only thing that really went wrong today was that the soda machine at school was giving out heated diet cokes. We loaded up on ice cubes and short plastic cups and pretended we were on an airplane.

I am freaking exhausted. Bed!
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Friday, February 18, 2005

a mind is a terrible thing

Stuff I learned or figured out this week:

  1. That guy? At the gas station? The one pointing and honking? Was trying to tell me that my gas cap was hanging off the back of my car, because I apparently drove off with a gas cap dingleberry yesterday. I figured it out about 40 miles later. So, um, thanks for trying, dude.
  2. Rain makes my commute truly hellish. Two hours getting home last night.
  3. My new spiritual director rocks like a hurricane.
  4. My amazing powers of procrastination are growing stronger. Soon I will control...well, nothing, because I won't get around to it.
  5. I can admit to being really anxious all the time and people will not fling monkey feces at me.
  6. I miss the fairy godchild!!! Ok, that wasn't a new revelation, but it's true. I miss having her mom around here, too, because she is the Voice of Reason, and I need more of that.
  7. Flights to Knoxville got really cheap for no apparent reason, so Dennis and I are now booked for a trip in June. He'll go to Bonnaroo, and I will spend time with the family, including a trip to Kentucky to scatter my grandmother's ashes at her favorite golf course. If we can't get permission to do this, we're going to be all guerilla and do it anyway. Because Virginia raised a bunch of rebels, she did. I just hope none of her ends up in the sand trap; she would hate that.

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Wednesday, February 16, 2005


I have school this weekend, which means that as of last night, I stopped being able to really breathe. My chest is all tight and I've burst into tears about three times already today and I haven't even had lunch yet.

Is this what doing God's will looks like? Or am I trying to push myself in where maybe I am not ready to go, or am not supposed to go at all?

Or is this just my time to deal with my anxiety issues so that they can be gone?

Sigh. I do not know the answers to any of this. I'm seriously considering dropping a couple of classes, though. That will take some of the load off while keeping me engaged with the school so that I can't just retreat away and be overly comfortable. Clearly the anxiety, which is rooted in the feeling like I am completely useless and God knows it and so does everyone else, needs to be dealt with, if only to restore adequate upper-respiratory function.
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Monday, February 14, 2005

my husband is a good sport

Hey, look, I finished Dennis' Christmas present...just in time for Valentine's Day! Go me! This is the Manly Sweater from Stitch-n-Bitch, done in charcoal wool from elann.com:

I don't have any really good shots of us from the Phil show on Saturday. I finished up our costumes so late, we were out the door before I realized I hadn't snapped him in the final version of his gold jumpsuit. It was pretty freaking sweet, though. Here is an in-progress photo of the top half, with the cape but without the belt.

You can't see the shimmer very well in this, but it's quite sparkly. The cuffs, bellbottoms, and cape lining are all made from that fake sequin fabric with the little mylar dots on it. The one that gums up the sewing machine needle and melts all over the iron. I thought it was rather clever of me to put an inside pocket on the belt, behind the fake buckle, so he could carry his business cards and ID.

My costume ended up being less elaborate and less finished. I had wings, though. And I will say that being in a bathroom stall that is narrower than one's wingspan is not the most pleasant experience. Those didn't last long.
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Tuesday, February 08, 2005

superman is a dick

No, really. Check it out. He's a real jerk. Such a brilliant site, that, if only for coining the phrase superdickery. [Hey! It's back! There's a link to its temporary new home on the page I linked.]

Dennis has been in Vegas since Sunday, and he's getting back today and I am very happy. I'm just not that good on my own...I don't go to bed early enough, I don't eat, and Clyde also gets grumpy when he's gone and starts knocking things over.

Tonight is the Mardi Gras party at St. Ned's, so we have plenty of beads and jambalaya. I am once again so unprepared for Lent.

We're going to a Mardi Gras show (Phil Lesh) on Saturday, and costumes are encouraged, so...I made Dennis a gold denim 70s jumpsuit with gold sequin trim. It has a cape. It's kind of Jackson 5, kind of James Brown, a little Elvis. Yes, there will be photos. I'm still working on my costume. I always feel weird about costumes because I'm fat, and it seems like if I try to look pretty, that's just a joke because, hey, I'm fat and everyone knows it. But I secretly want to be pretty. So the whole process is more complicated than it needs to be, what with the self-loathing and all. There is a reason why I do not sew for myself much.

I'm still working on my sermon (working title is not: superman is a dick), and hope to have something that is rehearse-able by the end of the weekend. Right now it's the electronic equivilent of tiny scraps of paper with cryptic writing on them. Apparently I'm from the Beautiful Mind school of sermon writing.

Remember that you are dust (bunnies) and to dust (bunnies) you shall return.
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Thursday, February 03, 2005

all blogs eventually become about cats

I stopped at the pet store to get some kibble to put in Clyde's headhole tonight, and what to my wondering eyes did appear in the sale bin but a George W. catnip toy. For $1.50, it could not be resisted. Clyde enjoying it:

ps - if you want one of your own, click here. Clyde, who is a serious 'niphead, is a big fan of this company's catnip toys. Their catnip is called 'zoom around the room' for a reason. There is also a big, non-catnip dog version.
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This morning I flew right past the exit to get on 237 from 880 to get to work. I was singing along with Buddy Miller, badly, and mindfucking thinking about my sermon and my theological reflection paper, and la la la I never got over into the correct lane. I probably should not be allowed to operate a car. Hell, some days I shouldn't even be allowed to operate pants.
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Tuesday, February 01, 2005

martyrdom? you're soaking in it.

I just looked up what I'm preaching on for homelitics in just under three weeks. We drew dates at random, and I have to pretend I'm doing a midweek eucharist on December 26. Six minutes (but I talk fast so I probably have to write twice as much as a normal person) on this:

Matthew 23:34-39
Therefore I am sending you prophets and wise men and teachers. Some of them you will kill and crucify; others you will flog in your synagogues and pursue from town to town. And so upon you will come all the righteous blood that has been shed on earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah son of Berekiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar. I tell you the truth, all this will come upon this generation.

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing. Look, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'" [NIV, because I was using Bible Gateway which doesn't have the NRSV]

It's the feast of St. Stephen, who ended badly in the day's reading from Acts, the account of which includes a phrase that I just don't use enough, "You stiffnecked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears!"
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