No Way! Yahweh.

I don't know how I forgot to mention this but let it be known that I gave church up for Lent. The Baby Jesus brought me too much stress, so I had to let him go. I am thankfully no longer the president of the board at church. I wasn't made to have a church. I'm not even sure I was made to go to church. It is with profound relief that I can let him go for Lent.

Out of respect to the soon-to-be-risen Master, I continue on as queen of the newsletter, keeper of the website and substitute in the sound room. I'm also the vice president but unless the president is assassinated, I'm good to go.

Perhaps the Baby Jesus has been dismayed with my change of leadership and my newly found Jesus-free freedom, so he's tricked me to Christian Radio when flipping stations and I've forgotten to put CDs in the car. I usually end up listening to this positivity-laced-Jesus-is-coming-look-happy music when there are commercials on my usual stations. Jesus has a good gig going on because (1) his station doesn't play any commercials and (2) it's happy, mindless adult contemporary easy listening of which is nice when traveling to and from work. The wife, who has a "smart car" with iPod bluetooth and satellite radio and knows nothing of commercials, is probably flummoxed by this. Hey, I say love the one you're with.

Well, love the one you're with until it's money-raising time....someone's gotta pay for that commercial free approach. When it's "tithing time," the music seems rather scant. Just begging for your money. That's when I turn the channel and listen to the commercials. It's like going to Catholic mass while on the road.

I really like Easter but it's all about the chocolate, not the main event. (No offense to the most holiest of days--Move! That! Stone!) I can still remember how sick I felt after eating 40 Cadbury chocolate eggs back in the college era. That had to be four bazillion calories and an almost terminal level of sugar. I''m still recovering from that madness. Let it be known that I don't waste my time on any of those waxy, cheap chocolate bunnies. I want the expensive, tasty real chocolate bunnies. Skip the Peeps. Those things freak me out.

What the hell IS a Peep, anyway?

Before I forget, I want to mention Kleenex with Vicks built into them. I know--weird, non-existent segue from Jesus and Peeps to Kleenex. I'm trying to decide if it's genius or madness to have such a product. I used a box of them over the past week and the verdict is still out. I really like them and the smell of Vicks always brings back happy memories of childhood. (Wait--that's kind of weird. When you smell Vicks as a kid, it means you were sick. How is that happy?) So, each time I used one of those chemically-laden tissues, it made me happy. But then, my brain kicked in and was like, "holy shit, you are breathing in a vat of chemicals using these things." If you haven't snorted one of these things, you should try it. Just don't blame me for all the brain cells probably being killed while huffing one of those thing.


As you can probably tell, I woke up in a rather irreverent mood today. No reason of which I can determine. It's a nice feeling to wake up irreverent. Perhaps it's from sniffing one too many Vicks-Kleenex or hearing one too many Christian rock songs. Had I slept longer, I might not be this way. Unfortunately, today's alarm clock--earlier than usual and of course on a weekend--was Freckles puking on the rug. Why she always throws up on a day we could sleep in is more genius than those Kleenex.


Speaking of her lumpy majesty, the dog continues to plug along. Yahweh, she's still she keeps sprouting disgusting-cauliflower-puffs of skin growths and has more boogers in her eyes than in a room of kindergartners during cold and flu season, but she never misses a meal and she has stopped the barking madness. I look at her and shake my head, chuckling. I thought we'd be dogless by now, with the vet's prophecy coming true--that being Freckles would only last a few months after the passing of Lucy. (Oh, how we still miss Lucy.) Perhaps in the spirit of Easter, the Baby Jesus swooped down upon her and said, "Let there be Life" and he extended her expiration date, not only in human years but in dog years.
Damn dog is going to live to be 20.


I think I shall remain irreverent all day. Pray to Jesus for the wife. She's gonna need some prayer today if I'm gonna be a smarty pants all day.....

.....Wait--perhaps you should pray for me. The wife is so not going to be entertained after a few hours of my irrevent-cy. Or, maybe it's irrelevancy. Whatever, someone is gonna need prayer. Just remember: Prayers, not peeps. Amen.

******************************************************