Can’t think of a title right now because I don’t want to be late

I don’t know what my problem is. First I’m annoyed by workaholics who take a little too much outward pride in being workaholics. Then I’m pissed off because people who clearly have ability don’t make any effort to hone their talent. I include myself in that group sometimes.

And most recently, most prominently, I get so very irritated with the pious few who can’t seem to keep their obsession with God in their pants.

Let me rephrase. Is it really necessary to put Bible verses as your facebook status? Because let me just say, as someone who’s pretty impartial most days, you’re not going to inspire me to start up Bible-reading or hardcore prayer just because you’re John 3:16ing away in the social media. Seriously.

Is it really that important that you dress conservatively or treat everyone else with a heightened sense of “I’m better than you because I have a religion that is the right religion and you can be better than everyone else too if you give up your sinner’s lifestyle and join me”? Is it really that mandatory to wear blingy cross jewelry or carry your Bible around?

I thought the whole point of having a relationship with God was to use his love to love others (and okay, repent your sins and go to Heaven and all that jazz). But if the current mentality is “be obnoxious about your faith and see how many people like it and join in,” I hesitate to ask how many new followers you end up with.

Personally, it’s not appealing to be part of it… Christianity seems way too much like a clique, an exclusive group that you can only be part of if you’re willing to piss all of the nonbelievers off. I don’t want to join in, I don’t want to hear what you have to say because you are, quite simply, annoying as hell (if you’ll forgive the turn of phrase).

And maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just close-minded and a bitch. Maybe I just can’t accept that this religion IS actually better than all the rest. Maybe I can’t just face facts: that you have to discriminate and be an obnoxious witness in order to have a successful relationship with God.

Or maybe, there needs to be an adjustment. Because I’m pretty sure that I’m a very open-minded person and although I admit to the bitchiness a great deal of the time, it takes a lot to really piss me off. And this cliquey Christian nonsense? Yeah. It pisses me off.

Advertisements

Some days I think, I should shut up. Today is not one of those days

I don’t want to do my diction homework. I don’t want to learn IPA right now.

Okay, I mean, I do, but not the way that we’re learning it and not in a stuffy room crammed full of singers and open e’s and o’s and headaches.

I don’t want to wait for my laundry. In fact, I didn’t want to laundry at all today because I just don’t want to. But no, I shoved two dollars and fifty cents worth of quarters into that machine and by God I will have clean clothes. They just might not be all the way dry by the time I go to get them out of the dryer. I have class at three thirty and I don’t want anyone else touching them while I pretend to enjoy Rep Singers.

I don’t want to do my theory. I don’t even want to go to theory any more. I can’t believe how awkward I made it for myself.

Um, but please. My recently vocal sassy side shakes her head and does the Z-finger-snap thing because hey buddy. If you don’t want me, say so and don’t mix your signals. In my experience, drunken behavior is the most telling because you are at your most relaxed and uninhibited in an intoxicated state. Therefore, it leads me logically to the conclusion that you’d want me if I’d say so.

Don’t lie to me now that you’re sober. Don’t ignore me now that you’re sober. I don’t appreciate it and it makes me lean toward the notion that oh my, you can be a jackass. It’s not my fault I’m mysteriously attracted to you. In all honesty, I cannot think of a solid reason why I am. Okay, you have some really pretty eyes and you’re not a tenor.

Those aren’t even Good Reasons. Like, what the hell. What’s wrong with me?

Or better, what’s wrong with you? Since apparently you can flirt with everyone else and not with me? Unless you’re drunk? I’m so confused. Don’t lead me on. I don’t have time.

I do have a significant amount of stubbornness and crankiness though. I can be kind of a pain in the ass if things don’t work out my way here. But I’ve taken steps and now I’ll wait for you to make yours and if they’re in a direction I don’t like I’ll do something else and pretend it doesn’t affect me at all.

I mean I probably will care but it will look like No Big. But just so you know, I’d have an open ear or arms for you if you ever wanted them.

In another life, maybe

So I realized upon waking up and reading what I wrote last night, I left a few important things out of my post.

First of all, I realize it’s a pretty personal subject. When I mentioned the vulnerability? It’s kind of weird leaving that last post up, just because it talks about crap I’ve tried my best to not even think about for a long time.

Because let’s be realistic. I sing opera. I have plans for my life, and they’re not all money-making or stabilizing. I’m ambitious and fairly smart and love to read, write, think, and work outside/shovel horse shit/run around with my dogs when it’s not snowy. I don’t fit the typical mold for a significant other and I’m aware of it. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it, or having a yen for it. Even if it doesn’t make sense.

And hey. This was a blog for my thoughts, first and foremost. So if I’m thinking about boys and the future, then that’s what I’m going to write about.

But upon further reflection, I almost feel as though I should resign it to fiction. Keep the thoughts of a future with some faceless, nameless gent within the pages of a word document. The idea of jeopardizing my future plans because of some unknown stranger is horrifying. It’s just not worth it.

So ignore my lists and forget the standards. It’s just a silly topic that happens to surface in my mind whenever I see my friends happy in that way. I’m glad for them, but in the more selfish section of my brain I do tend to wonder why I can’t have it, too.