church and state
I met a guy in the JFK airport. I sat down two seats away from him, many bags in hand, all alone in one of the biggest airports. He started a conversation and we ended up talking for quite a while. He works at the Paramount and has a place in the city, and played for the red hot chili peppers for a few months. We talked about Seattle people. He said that they were mostly Christian liberals, which is an oxymoron...how TRUELY, they weren't liberals. Tonight i went to a party that two married gay men were throwing, a "day of the dead" party with the coolest people around, and i almost was trying to hide the cross around my neck, thinking that people would label me anti-gay or anti-abortion or something like that. It feels like this will almost affect my life...where i live, who my friends are. I feel like i love Jesus and God and i do pray but i don't follow the bible. People will ask me if i'm really religious, and i won't even know what to say. By wearing the cross i feel like i was practically saying tonight that i was against this marriage, that i was just Charlotte's Catholic friend who was thinking bad things about the hosts. Which isn't true at all. I don't really know how i feel about abortion, but i'm definitly not anti-gay or anything like it, and maybe because i live in Seattle i consider myself liberal. I'M an oxymoron, i guess. I have strong beliefs, but somebody could easily argue that they play right against each other. I have to say, it was a really cool party.
We got guiney pigs (nooo idea how to spell that). We ended up going to three different Petco's, but finally came home - just me, Laine, and Dad (this would never be happening if mom still lived with us. which sort of made this whole thing sad). We walked in the door and i took them out of their box to explore the living room, and Laine's - "Sasha" - ran as fast as she could for the fireplace. So i screamed for Dad, thinking maybe the gas would catch her on fire or something. To make a long story short, it was almost worse. She had fallen down a 6-foot hole that the ashes go in, so she was six feet underground a small hole on a pile of ashes. It was heartbreaking to see her, thinking we'd have to just know she was down there starving to death, not able to get her out. Laine came downstairs and started crying and screaming that i had killed her hampster, telling me she hated me again and again. I heard her screaming upstairs, "i swear to GOD i HATE her". The worst part is, i don't think it was just because of the hampster. We ended up finding a place in the basement that the ashes fall out of, so Dad put on gloves and a mask and made a hole through the ash, and i ended up with my arms in the ash hole, and caught her. I caught a flying guiney pig with ashes. She was okay. Mom came over midway through and by the end, everything was okay. I don't want my sister to hate me. She's not the kind of person who would yell things she doesn't mean...she's been so angry before and not said that. "Shes been mean to me for three years and to top it all off, she killed my guiney pig!" She was hysterical. I hate to think what her therapist thinks of me.
My pig's name is Autumn.
We got guiney pigs (nooo idea how to spell that). We ended up going to three different Petco's, but finally came home - just me, Laine, and Dad (this would never be happening if mom still lived with us. which sort of made this whole thing sad). We walked in the door and i took them out of their box to explore the living room, and Laine's - "Sasha" - ran as fast as she could for the fireplace. So i screamed for Dad, thinking maybe the gas would catch her on fire or something. To make a long story short, it was almost worse. She had fallen down a 6-foot hole that the ashes go in, so she was six feet underground a small hole on a pile of ashes. It was heartbreaking to see her, thinking we'd have to just know she was down there starving to death, not able to get her out. Laine came downstairs and started crying and screaming that i had killed her hampster, telling me she hated me again and again. I heard her screaming upstairs, "i swear to GOD i HATE her". The worst part is, i don't think it was just because of the hampster. We ended up finding a place in the basement that the ashes fall out of, so Dad put on gloves and a mask and made a hole through the ash, and i ended up with my arms in the ash hole, and caught her. I caught a flying guiney pig with ashes. She was okay. Mom came over midway through and by the end, everything was okay. I don't want my sister to hate me. She's not the kind of person who would yell things she doesn't mean...she's been so angry before and not said that. "Shes been mean to me for three years and to top it all off, she killed my guiney pig!" She was hysterical. I hate to think what her therapist thinks of me.
My pig's name is Autumn.