Water wings

I'm not one for Lent, traditionally not even noticing the day it starts. But this year, I'm trying new spiritual practices as part of being in seminary, and my practice this week is Lent. It's something I've never done before, and it seems to minister to an entire world of people so it can't be all terrible.

A sense of solemnity has settled into my heart, quite unexpectedly. I didn't realize it would feel like this, heavy with the weight of the world. I feel a spiritual pressure to bring all of my failings--individual and corporate--in peace and justice areas before God in a very frank way, confessing and confessing, spilling out the pain and frustration and short-sightedness of my own choices. The prevailing sense about this whole process is that there is catharsis waiting for me, and I'm ready to walk that path of confessional pain.

I've decided to wear a pretty opaque veil today, and I think I'm ready to wrap it on. Yes, security blanket. My remorse is so deep that I need a layer keeping me a step back from the world, closing my vision a little bit.

Perhaps this is the truth of Lent.

Only in New Orleans is this considered a block-buster entry at a school talent show:



Added: To give it some context, here's a series of links. You'll have to do your own synthesizing, though:

The 610 Stompers

The 610 Stompers on the Today Show

I-610

Grassroots dance groups in Mardi Gras parades.

I have a dilemma. I need input!

I have to write a paper for a class. It's sort of a bullshit assignment because the paper has nothing to do with the class, but I need to write it. This is the actual text of the assignment:

"Your first writing assignment, the Autobiographical Essay, is due the week of February 13. Please review your course syllabus for details.

One goal of this assignment is to provide your instructor with a longer sample of your ability to write in standard academic English. If a student is struggling with grammar or stylistic problems, it is good to address these concerns right away. And the Autobiographical Essay will help everyone in the course to know one another better. In addition, the Autobiographical Essay is preparation for the Historical Thesis Paper, a substantial scholarly project.

First of all, an awareness of one's own intellectual biography is an essential step in being a good scholar. We all bring a personal "agenda" with us to the study of the Bible, for example: the values we hold and the assumptions we make. We cannot escape having an "agenda," but we can be aware of it.

Second, in the Historical Thesis Paper you will need to weigh the importance of various events for later events. For example, to weigh the significance of early experiences in a chosen person’s life for that person's ideas or actions later. In the Autobiographical Essay you are doing much the same, but in respect to yourself. The essay is simpler in that you are not required to document your descriptions of various life events (incidents, people, ideas, experiences, etc.). But you still need to weigh the various events as influences on how you think today.

In writing history, it is next to impossible to prove a direct causal connection between a specific incident and later events or ideas. But do selected incidents and later ideas fit together somehow? Think of a mosaic, with little pieces forming a bigger picture. Or of a coherent story, in which the outcome does seem to follow from earlier events.

In working with a picture puzzle, we try to duplicate the cover of the box. Among the thousands of pieces, there are some that are particularly useful – the corner and side pieces for example, or ones of a distinctive color. Analogously, are there incidents in a person’s life that are particularly useful in forming a picture of that person’s thought?"

Yes, that is wordy. I have about 1100 words/4 pages to do this.

Now, I consider myself (and my grades reflect) that I'm a fairly strong academic writer. I'm seriously considering playing with forms a little bit to impress the professor with style instead of just relying on substance, but. (Isn't there always a but?) But I know that half the class (roughly) will be using style to cover for a lack of substance. This is a class of people who can't do citations in grad school.

If I play with style, I run the risk of being lumped in with them unless I pull off a major coup. If I go with a straight-up essay, I bore myself. So do I dazzle the man with style AND form or just play it safe and go with dazzling content in a boring box?

I'm up at 7a to do some work that I knew wouldn't get done last night, to plow on through. So I pull out the pills I forgot to take last night (multivitamin, B and C complex, D3, calcium), then finish my apple so I'm not taking the pills on an empty stomach. I carefully line them up by size on my computer, waiting to swallow. Not five minutes later, I move to take them...and they're gone.

These pills are big enough and taste terrible enough that I'd remember having swallowed them. And they are not to be found. I don't even.

I woke up craving thick, soupy lentils that reek of cumin and lemon with a dollop of sour cream on top.
My body must be mocking me: I have never successfully cooked lentils, and my spices are all in New Orleans. Cravings, you're frustrating!

The wildcard means anything. I thought this year's game needed a pregnancy recs set so voila! Wildcard! My card is here (and obviously NSFW).

( Let's get in the family way... )

My name is Suzanne. I'm pictured above. I'm pretty awesome. Since I'm adding new folks and starting a new chapter of life, I thought it would be good to introduce myself again. Consider it a refresher if you're an old hand around here.

Some of my self-identifiers (in alphabetical order!) include: bespeckled, bespectacled, Christian, educated, fat, feminist, genderwild, married, mentally ill, non-monogamous, orderly, pierced, privileged, Quakerly, queer, reader, Southern, unshaven, white.

I'm full of ego and opinions, often to my detriment. I tend to get caught in routine, believing that there are a limited number of "correct" solutions to any problem. When faced with problems, I offer too many solutions instead of properly sympathizing. I promise I'm trying to learn new behaviors!

My formative years were passed in Georgia and Mississippi, resulting in an optional Southern accent and a fantastic biscuit recipe. I'm proud to be from Mississippi and devoted to improved representation of the Deep South. When I get enmeshed in an academic situation, my accent gets stronger. I want to hear people like me saying brilliant things...and taken seriously.

I try to live a low-impact life. This means I avoid buying new as much as I can, as well as avoiding stuff with a passion. My book collection is small and getting smaller. (Digital books are awesome!) My yarn collection is getting smaller. My closet is getting more simple, with an emphasis on clothes that will last more than one season. (This is as much a Quakerly thing as it is an environmental thing.) We do everything we can to live small and within our means, both fiscally and environmentally. To that end, no car for us. We're bike-walk-transit people, and we sort of love it. (No lie.) Adapting our life around what is and isn't available in our geographic area has been really good for our wallets.

Without exaggeration, I am an excellent cook. My abilities to improvise and to season are pretty top-notch for someone with no formal training besides "eats a lot." I don't need a lot in the kitchen, but I do love working with a good tools. I'm committed to making healthy choices for my planet and my family. Because I've been functionally unemployed for the past year, I am the primary cook in the family. This is a role I cherish. I love tasting food for what it is and enjoying seasonality as well as local favorites. When we can, we cook from scratch.

When I drink, I gravitate towards beer first and wine second with exotic and unusual liquor a distant third. I would love to geek out about beer with you. I drink loose tea with gusto and consume iced tea like it's going out of style. After years of enjoying co-cola as a special restaurant treat, I have finally broken that habit in favor of an organic, HFCS-free cola. It's a special treat to have a can of Blue Sky instead. Because I live in New Orleans, I believe that alcohol should be a walk-and-talk beverage.

I am deeply, deeply religious. My wife is deeply religious. In that respect, we are good. However, we're on opposite ends of the worship spectrum. I am a lowest of low church Christian, worshiping primarily in unprogrammed Quaker fashion. My wife is a high church, pomp and circumstance Anglican who loves the soaring arches and crashing crescendos of a cathedral. We both acknowledge that visiting each other's worship space is nice as an occasional treat, but our needs aren't met when we exchange styles. Still, I love her church; and she thinks my Quaker ways are fun. Together, we pray for a universal church. The $10 word to describe us is "ecumenical." Will I be shoving the Jebus teachings down your throat? Nada. Will I stand up for religion and faith having a place in this world? Absolutely. Do I think that religion and the church have screwed the pooch over and over, wreaking havoc and doing more harm than good in a number of cases? Yes, yes, yes. The church and Christianity are not above reproach, and I fully believe they should be held accountable for their misdeeds. Church, faith, and worship aren't for everyone. I respectfully request that you allow those of us who find strength in talking to an invisible friend God to continue doing so, just as I am glad to allow you the space to not even bother. (And I swear I'm not judging you. It's a waste of my time to make a decision about your religious space.)

In a week, I'm moving to Boston, MA, for graduate school. I moved to Boston, disliked it, and came back. In January, I will be moving to Indiana instead. My wife (see below) is staying in New Orleans to continue with her own graduate studies. This isn't an ideal situation, but it's also not the first time we've lived it. (Our first year of marriage was spent in two different countries. Being in the same country this time is a real boon.) The other members of our family are staying with my wife to keep her company and because they are a pain to move.

We have two guinea pigs who exist as a bonded pair. Lily--the alpha pig--vaguely resembles a buffalo and eats like it's going out of style. She is a vacuum in pet form. She's lived with me for over 4 years, and I really like her. Right now, she takes daily pain meds to manage a chronic condition (probably arthritis). At approximately 5.5 years old, Lily is considered old for the average guinea pig community but still quite spry for serious owners! Her cagemate and beta is another special needs pig named Daisy. Daisy got an ear infection at the pet store that was untreated, resulting in a permanent head tilt. We suspect her vision is a little skewed because she licks everything to figure her world out! If it can be tasted, Daisy has tasted it. Daisy is approximately 2, and she came to live with us in January of 2011. We love our pigs and give them the very best life we can. Both girls were adopted from shelters or rescues, as was my very first guinea pig (the now deceased Diana). Pet stores are a bad place to find small animals, especially because the rescues are full!

(Would you like to see a picture of our current piglets? Daisy is the ginger on the left, and Lily is the spotty one on the right.)

Together, we have a cunning little apartment full of books and art and yarn and fun. It's a great life.


This is my wife, Aliyah. You may know her on Dreamwidth as rooibos. She's amazing, and I completely adore her.

We met in college, hung out, had fun, and fell in love. We got married just a few days before she moved back to her home country (island nation, Caribbean, small) to work.

I am utterly head-over-heels in love with this woman. I hate being away from her so I'm often not. When we are apart, I talk about her incessantly. She's not my other half. She doesn't complete me. We are independent and fully formed people. She softens my hard edges and gently rounds my corners, in addition to being utterly wonderful. We compliment each other nicely. We are often touching in public, as indicators of our relationship. It's all G rated (hands, shoulders, head, maybe a waist or a knee), but it's visible lady-love.

She is a voracious reader, a tri-lingual wizard, and smarter than practically everyone else I've ever known. (Sorry, folks. But it's true. I think my wife is blindingly intelligent.) She's also endowed with a well-developed sense of compassion and grace to execute it.

We have our own verbal shorthand by now, enjoying each other's company too much to bother with certain linguistic formalities. Our roommate Sid (see below) calls us the cutest couple EVER IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD.

She's a good cook, an excellent baker, a whimsical crafter, and a decent singer. I like when she breaks into song while she does chores. She takes care of me as much as I take care of her. Aliyah is the reason I'm not ashamed to admit to being a hausfrau. When I'm creating a home and a welcome environment for her, it's a joy.

(Would you like to see us together? Here's a picture from a Yelp event.)


This hooligan (almost typed "hooligay", which would be accurate and funny) is Sid. For a little bit of money, she rents a corner of our living room. We enjoy having her around, and she gets to eat our awesome cooking as well as enjoy our scintillating repartee.

Sid is a college friend with a big heart and more whimsy than the average bear. Her brain operates in cartoon physics. If a game exists, she's probably played it. And has an opinion. She's a sushi junkie, dislikes wearing pants, and survived a year in a dysfunctional branch of AmeriCorps. She's also a lesbian, although she and Aliyah tolerate being referred to as "the lesbeans."

When I say I live in a clothing-optional lesbian commune, it's mostly Sid's influence that got us there.
In addition to paying us rent, Sid trades in the universal currency of women's colleges (head scritches). She's an excellent roommate.

We're all more complex than an entry like this can convey, but I wanted to sketch out something. Now when I say "my wife" or "my roommate" or "the lesbeans", y'all can pretend to know what I'm talking about!

For my Voyeurism square, I have 11 SFW Veronica/her camera icons from Veronica Mars (mostly season 1) for your entertainment purposes. My card is here (and obviously NSFW). The idea behind this set is that Veronica is proto-PI, watching all of your naughty moments through her camera lens. Since the show aired on network TV, it's not going to be NSFW. (You'll have to use your imaginations!) This set isn't my best work, but I wanted to get the ball rolling for this year's kink_bingo card.

If you enjoy these, feel free to love them and pet them and call them George. I don't mind credit, but I don't like lying so don't claim them to be yours.

( Veronica Mars/I'm watching you )

BINGO! This is my last entry, and I'm freaking excited. This is a dart-centric fic because I thought it was very funny. My NSFW card is available here.

Title: Ship's Log
Fandom: Red Dwarf
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: a very fluffy PG
Summary: Listie has been using Rimmer as a dart board
Prompt: Piercing/needleplay
Warnings: None of the usual piercing/needleplay restrictions apply, thanks to some non-traditional applications.
Beta: My darling rooibos read and Briticized for me!

Disclaimer: Red Dwarf and all associated characters are property of the BBC, not some piddling little twerp like me.

Author's Note: This journal-style story is part of my big, bad, British bingo attempt for kink_bingo. Set late in the Dwarfdom, because I want to use images from all the seasons.

( Ship's Log )

For my Authority Figures square, I have a little story about Archie from Monarch of the Glen. Fic isn't my strong suit, but it's an attempt. My card is here (and obviously NSFW).

( Happy-fun-in-his-pants time. )