I just wrote a very raw, very extensive entry and it didn’t save. I can’t do this right now.
Today I met with the church pastor of the Lutheran Church that I am choosing tho be a member of. I think it is a good choice for me since I have been thinking of rejoining the church. It’s a hard decision knowing that my grandparents are not churched, my husband doesn’t believe, I’m away from my parents, etc.
One of the most pressing thing that I am struggling with is the dichotomy between the church’s desire to bring all types to the faith, and the lack of acceptance of the gay community. I wanted to be very explicit in our talk today that I have gay friends, I am active in the gay community, my studies in graduate school may be concerning to others in the church. Pastor discussed their position that bringing gays inti the church is just like bringing any other sinner, like alcoholics and adulterers. What I couldn’t bring myself to ask was, what if I don’t believe that being a practicing gay is a sin?
How do I, as a heterosexual who plans to work closely in the gay community and has gay friends, come to terms with the idea that their entire sexual pleasure experience is defined as sinful, when they are just trying to be open and honest with themselves and their sexuality? It’s very exhausting to think about. In my home church, homosexuals were not allowed to be members, but they may have been allowed to practice; I don’t know, we never had an openly gay member. In this new church, they are allowed to be members, but the idea of homosexuality is still considered a sin.
Long story short, too late, I disagree with the Idea that homosexuality is a sin, and it is very tough to come to grips with a church family that doesn’t feel the way I do about something that is so close to my heart.
10 years ago, I was driving in the the Driver’s Ed Focus practicing my parallel parking. When we came back to the school, no one knew what to think or how to react, much less what had actually happened or who caused it. I don’t have many other memories from that day except watching the footage over and over in every class and that the whispers in the halls was deafening. Looking back on it now, I feel like a ghost, experiencing half a life that may or may not be real. There were classmates crying, shaking, going home early, and I remember feeling empty.
What does this mean to me? That day started in me a self reflection process that I will never fully shake. A deeper appreciation for the country in which I live, it’s resilient population and it’s dedicated men and women of the Armed Forces to whom I owe so very much. I/we may not agree that we continued this war for the right reasons, but I have confidence in the people who risk their lives every day to keep those of us here at home safe.
As I sit here writing, I thank my God for giving me all the opportunities that American children seer offered, namely, the opportunity for higher education. Without the sacrifices or our forefathers and foremothers, I would not be here, studying something about which I am so passionate. Would it be a less fulfilling life? No, just different.
To my husband, my father, friends and family: thank you for all that you do and continue to do! Remember…And together we will never forget.
Editors Note: I couldn’t put a picture in today because they were either too saccharinely sweet and overtly optimistic, or gut-wrenchingly horrifying.
So today, I think i have it all under control. When is that ever the case?
Last week I went to the DMV and was told that because I didn’t have the title to my car, I couldn’t get my Delaware tags. So I cried. When I called my insurance company, they assured me that they could send me a copy of the release of lien which could be used to get my new Delaware title. I got that a few days later.
When I went back today, I had my paper work; every scrap of paper that they have asked me to get over the last 6 weeks. The woman behind the counter takes one look at the release of lien and says, “I need your title.”
“But, I was told by my insurance company that this would be exactly what you needed.”
“I need the actual title.”
“Do you think you could call them and-”
“No. … I need the title.”
FUCK. So here I am. Square one. Again. And this time, I don’t think I’m going to go back to the DE DMV. They told me it would be about $300 to get the rear plate for my car, which is all that is required in Delaware. Now, for me to renew my WI plates, considering that they are now expired, will only be $85. I think the logical and economical choice is to give a big ‘ol middle finger to Delaware and get my plates renewed in good, cheap, doesn’t-care-about-the-emission-rates, Wisconsin.
Is this legal? I don’t know. I don’t particularly care at this point. I’m just uber pissed at the system. I have tried to do everything right in the time that they have given me.
This is an added piece of stress that I just don’t need right now.
Today was our last mandatory school meeting before classes really get underway. I have not ready any books, I have not created a timeline of when things have to be done, I have not stopped to think about when I might be able to sleep. All I keep thinking about is if I’ll be able to hack it, and how much I miss physical contact.
We have had, in total, 3 cohort meetings and 3 classes so far. Each and every time there is some new get-to-know-you “game” and we all end up saying the same three things about ourselves. Mine usually begins with coming from Wisconsin, which was novel until yesterday when I met a girl from Madison, and ends with me exposing the situation of how Ben came to be left behind with our house and pets. This usually is met with “AWWWW”, which is sweet, but has come to sicken me a little. No one else that I have met is doing the long distance so far. There is one girl whose partner is in Maine, so that’s quite a ways away.
As I was half falling asleep in the Q&A portion of the meeting, I kept thinking of Ben, if this is the right choice of program, if this is the right time, etc. I then settled on a thought that was more disturbing than all the rest; I haven’t been touched in weeks. Not specifically from a sexual standpoint, but meaning I have not had more physical contact than a pat on the shoulder in weeks. I think the last hug I got was from my mom when we dropped her off at the airport.
Before everyone broke free at the end of the meeting, I HAD to ask a girl that I have come to know over the past few days to just hug me. She’s very exuberant and very open so I knew it would be a sure thing. She beamed and hugged me so tight and so long that it almost got awkward. But it was grand. I felt a weight lifted off of me just by that simple act of friendship and love. It’s no Ben Bear Hug, but it will have to do for now.