Tuesday, August 11, 2009

St. Claire's Cat

This entry was written while I was away from home on a Catholic mission trip and subsequently placed in its correct timeslot. Line breaks generally indicate some amount of time between the writing of the paragraphs, as I penned these thoughts over the course of the day. I have not changed the content of this entry, save for minor spelling and grammar corrections.

Another restless night. I hope I can sleep this evening, because waking up each day with progressively higher levels of exhaustion is not something I’m looking forward to. Oh well. That’s what I get for not bringing an air mattress.

Entertained an erotic fantasy about previously mentioned older woman; fantasy involved shower room and relative privacy enjoyed therein. More on this story as it develops.

Mass again. We’re gonna do this every morning, I’m thinking. Oh well. If God were real, he’d be pis (Mass began as I was writing the preceding statement. Make of that what you will.)

St. Claire’s cat: During Mass, the fast-talking Irish priest told us about St. Claire of Assisi. At one point he said, “According to legend, when St. Claire was bedridden, she wanted a towel from across the room. So she asked the cat, and the cat got it for her.” Everyone laughed.

…seriously? The idea of an invisible best friend who follows everybody everywhere all the time and can grant wishes is totally fine, but the notion that a woman—who, by virtue of being a saint, is able to call down favors from God Himself—can somehow communicate with a cat is a little too far beyond the pale?

Theists… *shakes head*

I suspect that a few of the junior high girls have taken a liking to me. No matter. My heart beats only for one; perfection, thy name is MILF.

Ironically, someone made a joke this evening about Allison [note: name has been changed] and me showering together. The circumstances permitted such buffoonery. I laughed it off… and got just a tiny bit aroused. More on this story as it develops.

Today was long. Very long. But worthwhile. My old passion for social justice is coming back. And totally God-free too! I gave a very inspiring speech this evening about how immigration isn’t a black and white issue. They ate it up. I was phenomenal. And again, didn’t need to mention God even once. I’m starting to see that my life isn’t as different as I thought it would be. I still do the same things. Now I just don’t waste time praying to an imaginary being. Saves precious minutes and hours of my very finite life.

All right, time for rest. Until tomorrow, I remain: Closet Atheist.

1 comment:

  1. Loving this. Reading it all from the beginning, and then I'll go to your new blog.
    This is pretty much where I am at the moment.
    The only difference, is that there was a catalyst for me. The death of my daughter.