Besides being terrified of my boyfriend’s mother for reasons unknown I had a wonderful Christmas with her and the rest of the family. I attended church with them last night and it was warm. I mean to say the church experience was not only sweaty but it was warm hearted. Not really surprising in fact nothing truly surprised me; it was all exactly how I thought it was going to be. We went to Knox Presbyterian, a smallish church who’s mission statement is ‘an ethnically diverse congregation called together by God to so love our neighbors as ourselves that we make disciples of Jesus Christ. We are a unified family shining as a beacon of light, spreading the good news of salvation. We encounter Christ through the Word of God, which becomes life to us as it is proclaimed studied, prayed, and enacted in the lives of people.” The church was indeed very diverse, and everyone mingled effortlessly which I always associate with church, no one lurked in corners (except me), everyone walked around smiles and open arms. The inside of the church reminded me of the ribs of a gigantic whale (maybe they were aiming for Jonah). I looked at it again and brought me all the way to the bottom of ocean watching two waves rolling away from each other above me. Either way I found myself continually looking upward at the ceilings architecture for some reason. The cross was tall and the biggest thing in the room, forcing one to remember the suffering of Christ. It was covered in what looked like gold sickle shaped scales, their open sides facing away from the intersection of the cross. It gave the illusion that it was sort of big and hairy, it seemed more like a star to me then anything.

We sat far in the rear with plenty of elbowroom. The service consisted of lots of hymnal prayers and some old Christmas carols. The pastors short sermon spoke of home and how through Jesus we can find home, I wish I had a notepad at the time because some of his points were good ones that anyone Christian or no could use. Either way it reinforced in me still why religion is so attractive, because it makes everyone feel accepted and wanted and loved-which is the point. I think my favorite part was the singing, because for me singing has always been rather relaxing and singing with a group of people whether it people I don’t know or my best friends it’s always ignited some sort of bonding between people. Shelby, James’s mother raised her hands a few times during some of the carols presumably to feel a presence more clearly and precisely. It reminded me of yoga mediations. In yoga meditations your hands are open except for your two fingers, which remain touching to keep the energy flow. Your chest usually protrudes forwards letting your heart open to the world and your eyes close to shut out the physical and concentrate on the mental. Shelby looked intent swaying side to side gently and slowly; she closed her eyes singing softly and her hands in front of her ready to receive that spiritual feeling. I admired and even envied her peaceful concentration, wishing I could believe so deeply in one thing. James kissed my head a few times and continually smiled at me through out the service. I could really tell he appreciated my coming and he made me feel comfortable and that my being there was making the service all the better for him. The pastor asked us to pray with him a few times in which everyone dropped their heads but me it seemed, and the fidgety kids. I watched James interested to see how seriously he might take it, considering he is not a serious person most of the time. But he was laid back as usual but stood still his head lowered and eyes closed. I have liked to ask him what he’s thinking often during the day, to try to catch him off guard on a really insightful thought but most of the times I do it never works. Watching him pray I wanted to ask him so terribly, I wanted to see whom he was talking to inside that Santa hat he was wearing. What he was asking or thanking or forgiving. It was interesting to me to see him doing something other then gaming or terrorizing people with crazy jokes (not to say that that’s all he does of course). But it was just so unlike a James thing to do-although of course him being a Christian and all- of course it is going to be a James thing to do.

After the services James pulled me outside away from the crowd so as not to be plagued by introductions, I sort of fell in love with him again all of a sudden because I hate getting introduced to people I am never going to talk to again. Although I realized that he was doing it just as much for him as for me. All in all I am a very shy and very unfriendly person most of the time unless I know I am going to see that person again. I just think it’s sort of a waste of time. Either way we found J.J. who is a junior now in high school (James’ sister) playing with a little def boy who was so un-shy I felt silly about running out the church so quickly. James and J.J. chased the boy around the courtyard getting them selves wet with dew. He was laughing so hard and jumping all over the two of them. I wondered how he kept himself interested in the service and watching people ringing silent bells.

Shelby and Doug (James’ step dad) thanked me for coming in the car and we got back to their house and it seemed as if we had never even gone to church at all and I wondered how much they thought about the service or how it much it touched them at all. In fact through the whole ceremony I looked around at other folks wondering exactly what they were thinking and whether it had anything to do with church at all, I wondered how many of them would go home having been touched by it or just brushed by it. We opened presents and I got so much from their family it was insane: gloves, slippers, a blanket, a scarf, a journal, and a funny hat. Opening that many gifts from people I hardly know was probably one of the more awkward things I have done with that family, I found myself wanting to be back in the church where inside the community individuals would leave each other alone for a while to focus on something else.

In the end I realized I was not nearly as touched by the service as I have been in other obscure moments of my life. Nothing the pastor said actually made me feel spiritually enlightened as much as it taught me more about morals and how to live physically. Nothing really mentally entered my being except for knowledge about the experience and interesting anecdotes, which I have written here. What I mean to say is I have had other times looking at a sunset, or watching a movie, or reading a book, or listening to music, or laughing with friends or feeling complete joy in the arms of James where I have felt more ‘spiritual related energy’ flowing through me and between the things I am encountering. In other moments I have felt more love and light then anything I’ve remotely felt at religious related activities. But then again maybe it’s because I am not opening my heart like a real yogi to the divine. I am skeptical, reason driven and starving for knowledge of things I have no idea about and that is why nothing can really reach me the way it can others. I do not think this is bad, I just think that it is me. And will keep walking this path and do it the way I have been molded because that it all I can do.

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December 18, 2005
I drove fourteen hours yesterday straight down California and through Berkeley and LA traffic. The farther I got away from Arcata the more I wanted to go back. I went to bed last night alone for the first time in months. I was wired from the drive, my eyes were so tired but they wouldn’t close. I imagined what he was doing and pretended I was there too. I imagined him sleeping on the couch, bibles stacked high all around, the little gray terrier curled up on his chest. That helped a little, I ended up sitting by the fire playing with the ceramic nativity scene from Mexico that my mum has had for years. All the pieces cracked, an angel with one wing. Our real sequoia growing wildly in all directions potted in the front room was waiting for decorations and lights.

The week before leaving meant cleaning and we found the mouse nest. Four naked baby mice squirming around squeaking and a terrified mother dashing out to safety under Heather’s bed. Colin had to use a brick to kill them. James, Heather and I stood by watching him pound it into the paper bag we had swept them into. He said, “listen I’ll do it, but I don’t want you people to think I get any sort of pleasure out of this.” We assured him we had no such feelings at all, and that we had just watched The Secret of NIMH hours earlier. We could not have an infestation. It had to be done, but the three city slickers had not the gut and conviction as a farmer’s son might have, so I called him over. It was one of those things I feel you’ll remember forever…I had never thought that killing something like mice would still have such a great affect on me. Heather said that the mother would have most likely rejected them had we caught her too and tried to put them in the wild together. This hardly helped me.

December 23, 2005
The damn Christmas season is upon us. Heathens, Christians and all thing holy or not being forced down our necks no matter how hard you try to resist. Always caught up in a holiday I vow to make my own one-day. To do right one day. Having said that I am going to Church tomorrow, with James’s family. I though it a polite gesture if anything…honestly I feel like I am more interested in the education about a world I still know crap about and a world I think most people including devote Christians know nothing about. The last time I went to church was in Colorado for Easter. Pretty damn boring. This church is supposedly small; I refused to go to the three thousand attendee’s one out in West Covina. So I will be attending tomorrow, and I’ll be sure to write about it. I also have more to say about Heathens and Christians and Christmas, I really think Christmas could be much more magical and compelling at any age if people actually knew why we hung lights, or left out cookies, or why Santa wears red and why is everything green. I feel like the true meaning could not only be a family oriented one but an earth oriented one also. And if you want to throw Jesus in that’s fine too, because for some people he is the light of the their world just as the sun is the light of the pagan’s. But alas I left all of my notes on the subject in Humboldt…

Whenever I think about the place I long for it greatly. Luckily the heat in LA has subsided and it is bearable. But I am suffering headaches from an unfamiliar bed and the smog. Today I wanted to go to Don’s Donuts so badly it surprised me. It’s just a damn buttermilk donut, but I wanted to go to because I could glimpse the plaza from the street, and look out over the bay and up at the forest on my way there. I miss the quiet of Arcata. The lack of worrying about who I have to see, who I’m obligated to see. I am now both Northern and Southern Californian all in one. I’m so laid back it bothers people, but so tired of sitting down that I need to twitch and fidget. I guess I am having an argument with myself. Living in LA, and living so far away from it for so long makes the place so damn hard. I am not surprised to hear that you die sooner here. Driving down Venice Blvd at 8 in the morning I noticed the sky was clear all the way to the San Gabriel Mountains, but later in the day on the same street I could not see head or tails of any natural feature in the distance. In my side mirrors however the sunset was brilliantly orange, influenced by the smog, it was still beautiful.

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Cool Wing

Cool Wing
Originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

I have not written in a long time. I mean I have not written anything at all. Well nothing related to myself. Perhaps it is because I have been writing so many things for school, and to Clyde (my inmate). Or perhaps it is because I am so content that I do not need to do anything to promote a better understanding of my life.

I am considering changing my major. I cannot decide now whether I should just finish geography seeing as I am 1/3 through the requirements, or if I should move into religious studies or anthropology. I wish I had the mental capacity and studious ability to do all three, but that would be certain termination of my little success at college. But I grow increasingly interested in world religions and the whole psychology behind religion, also the ways in which the ancient world (tradition and myth) were assimilated into the present one through things such as religion. We shall see.

Finals are upon us here, as well as frosty and freezing nights. We finally got our heater fixed, but for a while seeing our breath indoors at noontime was a normal event. We caught a mouse, one of two we hopes. Unfortunately it was after he decided to eat, shit and pee all over James desk (which is kind of funny if you think about it) and on my paper wing. The silly little thing had been running all over our room and boldly marched around the apartment in broad daylight. After several attempts to catch it by bunging up holes and setting “mouse traps” which consisted of boxes and paper bags we decided it was time to trek to Ace to get a humane trap. That same night the mouse wandered into a paper bag by the trash on its own and we slyly tipped it upright. Tiny little bastard he hopped up and down trying to escape as we carried him outside. Heather and I let him go out by the creek beyond the apartment buildings.

THE PAPER WING. I drew it during the summer; it was a representation of a song that is very dear to me by Nickel Creek entitled “When You Come Back Down”. Anyways I left my wing with James in Los Angeles…that is all I will say for the rest may be a little too sappy for folk’s ears and a little to precious to disclose. Anyway when he came to live with me he brought my wing and it was safe until the mouse had his way with it. I was not as distraught about it as I thought I would be in a situation like that. It may have been because I had just taken “artsy fartsy” pictures of it a few days earlier. But perhaps it was because the mouse didn’t destroy James, just my wing. That may sound a little abstract but again I don’t really want to explain more.

I have become increasingly excited about going home in recent days. I am looking forward to seeing all my “home” friends, my parents, my dog, my old room and the warmth. I am sure it will be a great relief. However it will be strange (having lived with James for two months and five days) going home to adjust to a new routine together. Everyone will want to see us separately or alone and expect us to live separately most of the time; it just seems so bizarre to think about it. I honestly feel like living with him is the most normal thing I have ever done in my entire life. And somehow when we decided to go ahead with living together after only a couple of months, I knew it would work out. I mean I wanted it to and we made it work. Who knows about the future…but these past few months have been really easy. Nothing has gotten in the way. That is too say no complication we have had has come close or even attempted to challenge the thing we hold as a top priority or value in our relationship. And I can honestly say the things that I thought would break us apart have come and gone and still there was no threat. Every time something bothers me that he does, or something more trying and intense comes up the feelings I have for him never falter…ever. It’s always there constant in the back of my mind. It’s like looking into something murky like fog and seeing the lighthouse beam reminding me that land is still there, stable and strong and the heart of everything I love lives there on that gorgeous shore.
Sometimes when I see, hear, or read about other people’s relationships I can’t understand how they aren’t working out. I feel like I’m one of those obnoxious people in “Brigit Jones’ Diary”. The married ones who always give Brigit a hard time for not being married. Those are the people I could not stand, but now I’m turning into one of them. I feel as if I can hardly relate because it seems so long ago. That’s another thing, Humboldt slows time down-I feel like I am in fairyland while I’m here. The whole situation sometimes makes me feel really old, and as if I have been here and doing this all my life. Which is nice surprisingly.

Maybe I’ll have something more philosophical and “writing-ish” at a later date…. Peace till then…

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