Shoutout back atcha, girl!
L (space) D you rock
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Bow down before her
I jinxed myself. Too much writing about my wonderful sex life. Well, I haven’t heard from Dr. E in nearly a week. He phoned the day I left for retreat, totally forgetting that I was leaving that night, said he wanted to see me and would miss me terribly, and fuck, I haven’t heard from him again.
I actually phoned his cell phone today. (yeah, yeah, I suck). I got this weird static reception. He said hello. Then I heard him say he was traveling? It kept breaking up. Called again and went directly into voicemail. Oh well, I’m sure he’ll call sooner than later. But I’m irritated about this.
This feels like the longest week ever. I’m missing Dr. E, I have a ton of work to do, I don’t feel like working (when do I ever feel like working?), Zoë has been super clingy and cranky, and Saturday feels way too far off. I want to talk to him, but I don’t know where the fuck he is. I’m hoping he’s not on his way to freaking Egypt.
Do they serve cheese with this whine?
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Tales from the weekend:
The first day of my retreat was excruciating. The day had started off with the death of my former boss. I had a shit work day. I was supposed to leave at 12, but instead was pushed to 2pm. I was walking to my car and dorked off the curb and twisted the hell out of my ankle. I then had a parent teacher conference where she told me that Zoë said fuck, twice. I don’t ever curse in front of her, but I’m sure it’s karma for being such a potty mouth myself.
I get to the church, and we wait in the gym for like an hour an a half. Only one or two people talk to me and I am completely feeling awkward, which I usually never do. I so wanted to go home. I see this cute guy, which sort of makes up for it (next post).
The buses no-show us. We ride in these cars to the retreat camp. It’s late and I’m pretty hungry (no time for lunch). We drive into this little hick town and turn down a dirt road towards the camp. It’s wooded and I all can think of is snakes, spiders, Jason or Freddy Kruger and shit. I’m expecting that we will be in rustic cabins like Girl Scout camp… fighting off cobwebs and hiking to use funky open holed toilets.
We drive in, and the camp was dark, but you could tell that it was beautiful. Man-made lakes and tropical flowers everywhere. I think someone was going for the Garden of Eden groove. The cabins were actually mini-apartments with a kitchen, living room and three bedrooms. It’s nicer than my apartment and I’m happy about this.
We eat dinner (bleck, mushy Subway sandwiches), but first we have to sing this awful and goofy prayer song. We learn that we will have to sing before every meal. *roll eyes*
Then we go do the lets meet everyone thing. Over an hour later, after listening to everyone blah, blah, blah about their kids/grandkids, we head toward the chapel. Singing. Votive lit pathway. Slow and slower than slow, like a funeral. I’m sure it’s after 10 or 11pm by this time. (They took our watches and cell phones, so I have no fucking clue.) My legs are swollen (too much fucking sitting), sore ankle, I’m tired as hell, and already I’m sick of singing. Someone please call me a fucking cab.
We get in the chapel. My head is pounding. I sit in the back because I’m cranky and don’t want to be social or sit next to anyone. It’s dark except for a few candles and I’m half asleep. They start re-enacting the Stations of the Cross. [non Catholics: these stations remind us of Jesus’ journey from condemnation to resurrection, yeah, yeah, I had to look it up.] Jesus carries the cross. Jesus falling. Jesus getting his ass whipped. I’m like, fuck, how many stations are there?
But it was spooky. This was the first time (I guess because now I am a mother), that I kind of got the sense of what Mary really went through as Jesus’ mother. She sacrificed his life because that’s what God told her to do. This was freaking me out. I don’t think it helped any that I was super exhausted and that we saw the lightning flashes through the windows behind the altar. Jesus dying, nailed to the cross. The skies light up. Jesus’ resurrection… it was like a movie. BOO!
I then get this heathen thought in my head of David Koresh as Jesus. It won't go away. I think of Zoe too much. I think of Earnest Borgnine eating a balony sandwich naked while sitting on the john (my typical mind clearing thought... see it did it for you too) I suck.
Finally, I’m assuming around midnight. They finish the 14th and final station. “Let us go in Peace.” I bum rush out of there and head toward my cabin. It’s humid, sticky and the air is completely still.
I go around this corner and a gush of cool wind blows on us. Several of us comment on it later that weekend. It added to the spooky feeling that God was there. The cold rain starts right as I’m in front of my cabin.
I’m determined that someone is trying to tell me something.
Regardless, I just want to sleep. I bragged earlier to y’all that I would sleep.
6am – they wake us up with fucking cowbells.
I was so hating God.