Jesus is the CEO.

I made this for my little cousin who made her first Holy Communion last weekend. We all know what that means. FINALLY, she too will be able to partake in the holy sacraments of the body and blood of Christ. A traditional Catholic "promotion" of sorts. A time in a young Catholic's life as important as the Bahmitzvah to the J-Team, or the nose piercing of a young Hindu goddess. And it doesn't come free, it comes with weeks and weeks of sunday school to teach that jesus gave his body and blood FOR US. we're supposed to understand that However. I have been there.

See, the whole ordeal of communion for me, was that as soon as it was OVER, that meant mass was over and that was the GOAL-to get it the heck over with. So I can go back to class and I wouldn't have to endure Mrs. Honen's smacking my knees with a ruler because I had forgotten that if you cross your legs in church, the tip of your knee shows and that gives the boys hard-ons, and we wouldn't be having any hard-ons. That was just the PROcession of the communion...
As for the sacrament of communion,
When I was in second grade, what it really meant was: "OH THANK GOD! now I won't be sitting there all alone next Sunday when the rest of my family gets to go up and get a treat from the priest, and on special days...I'll get to DRINK WINE! I'm finally old enough to drink wine!! all that boring talk about jesus and body and breaking bread, (who breaks bread anyway? we CUT bread) has finally paid off." After myiiee first communion, I took it as an age granted permission slip to be able to DRINK WINE. yay.

Now in my thirties, it means something entirely different. I don't take communion anymore, and I certaintly wouldn't let my best friend drink from the same glass as me let alone the rest of the congregation. It's a little grose OK?
I abstain from communion because one reason: I do not believe that I need a priest or a saint to talk to jesus for ME. So that just about nix's everything that the communion represents, doesn't it?

Yeilding a good solid upbringing in the Catholic church that taught me respect and discipline I am grateful for even in my adult life, more than I think I am conveying here. Yet, they're the same morals I rebel against.
The Catholic church frustrates me with all of the "lucky lottery" saints and the "safe driving" saints, the saint that makes you take out weird ads in the classifieds, and the saint of holy tennis shoes, I mean c'mon...didn't they just tell me that it was a sin to worship other god's, a big sin? one of the top 10? and if I'm praying to them aren't I worshipping them?

so, why am I supposed to talk to St. Christopher before a trip when I can go right to the source? I made my first holy communion, jesus is MY man now. I eat his body.
Back then I just couldn't understand the levels and their individual significance. Now here's how I think it's supposed to be:
Jesus is the CEO, Mary is defidently the VP in charge of operations, St. Mary of Magdelene is the Social Chair, St. Francis of Assisi is the Marketing Mgr. and so on...whoa! look at that! St. Isidore of Seville is the IP dept! What second grader is supposed to know the order of importance levels of the employees at a Foutune 500 company? phsst, not me.

see what I mean! it's out of control.

I digress. It was wonderful to see my little cousin making her First Holy Communion she was so beautiful with her white gloves and matching iridescent clutch and shoes, veil and all...and it doesn't matter how many times I asked my mom "how long is this?".
Someday maybe MacKenzie will look back at memories and religious milestones she's making now, and remember how she never did get a good answer to her question on Good Friday...
"Mom, if Jesus dies today on the cross, then why do they call it good friday? that doesn't sound like it was good."
maybe she won't but either way,
I got'cha Kenz, I saw you eyeing the wine glass during the mass.

from 1999.

This is a conversation I sat in on while expiermenting with a calligraphy pen. I was writing what the boy with his nose in the bag was saying. From 1999....

"So, what happend?
"No one ever thought we'd break-up. If somebody seduced me, hell yeah, I'd cheat. Dude. She was uppity. Yeah, not much to look at. I loved her though. So, I drive up to New Jersy, have you ever been so depressed? I walk in, the bed's dented. Big hickey on her neck. Ended up leaving. Er, I mean staying. Is this who I married? would jumping on the freeway be kidnapping? "
"uhh, I think so."
"I paid an extra hundred bucks to have her papers served to her in the pit at her gig. My lawyer's a satan worshipper. Do you know about the Kuma Sutra? I do want to get on target with my life and that's what I'll probably do. I can do calligraphy though. No, really, look, She loved my face. It's my complexion. Look at my face, what do you think? What are YOU writing?! write me a note, go ahead. Do you trip?"
"Sometimes, when I walk on crooked sidewalks."
"I was gettin all buff, she knew it. and I did have a girlfriend for a while, but I fucked it all up. It was nice. Tomorrow it's all over, she probably won't be there."

keep yer nose out da bag.

the Pimp lamp

I have one of these. It was given to me by my old Landlord. It's so contemporary, I have used it but right now it's put away. I thought I'd see what kind of lamp it was, ( I could've sworn it didn't say anything on it, but then I acutally looked at the bottom)I did a little research online and learned that there is one in the MOMA! JEEze! Christie's auctions them off, they're in MUSEUMS for god's sake!
I'll sell that sucker. Any one know of a dealer looking for a Pipistrello lamp made by Martinelli Luce, designed by Gae Aulenti? It's made in Italy and I'll take $3,000 for it. Just don't tell my old landlord.

September. Ninety Seven.

I have an old suitcase I bought at the thrift store a long time ago. It looks like something a traveler from the 1950's would carry, it has a lot of character. I fill this suitcase with special mementos of my years. Stuff: like, a little bitty bag of what is now dust of mushrooms (REALLY good mushrooms) that my roommates and I ate it's dated: "1996". No need to label, I KNOW what it is. I remember. My old college ID, an ocelot hide, VIP passes, crystals, pictures, notes, letters, 8-mm video tapes, an "official" puked on Terrible Towel, and my journals are just a few of the things I keep in my old trunk of memories.

I drug it out because I was looking for a particular picture, I got sidetracked and started reading my OLD journals. Old journals are always good for a little insight. Besides having acquired a more positive attitude through the years (uh, I think), I think am pretty much the same. Please excuse me, the writing's a bit old school.

Here is one entry that really made me tingle. It's about me and my twenty-something life. I had just moved back to Ohio after graduation and a horrid breakup.

Maybe it's one of those Chrstine things. They say I'm in left field with some of the ideas I dream up. I probably wouldn't have a problem if I wasn't so scared of everything. I was talking to a friend and I can't commit to working seven days a week for cash. I am spoiled that my Mario's (Mario's is a restaurant in Pittsburgh I worked at, for four years while I was in college) days are over, and that I'm not coming home after working three days with the month's rent in hand.

I miss that old hell hole. the yelling from Bob, the stupid frat boys puking all over the floor, Ray and the pocket rockets, Cecil looking for his tip, Hal telling all the bitches to straighten up, Nat's down home advice and her obsession for having "nice lady like" arches, sexy little Laura the shot girl- looking for that phat tipping table, Meeting rock stars and serving Jack to Penguins & Steelers, Talking art with Johno, and grand larceny (not the game, it wasn't invented yet) with Carl and ESPECIALLY - the best part, joining Mila on the balcony for an overview of the night's cuties.

Hmm, and that's just at work. I had even more fun times out of work. Jumping in the car to go to Tele-Ropa, The Red, White and Blue, The Carniege library, and coming home to my apartment watering plants and being in time for Oprah, while the evening sun casts a shadow on another Pittsburgh day. Looking into the sky and seeing the Goodyear Blimp hovering over Three Rivers Stadium, The "T" that comes rumbling down my street, The old blind guy that always tried to grab Lindsay's tits, the lady that smells like old fryer grease and talks in Japanese as I'm starving on my way home from school.

boring post

well, the days are getting warmer and I feel so much better. I really go into a slump in the winter, it seems like I shut down, just like mother nature. Pretty soon, the cherry tree in my backyard will be blooming with beautiful white blossoms, I can't wait.
I went over my friend mike's for dinner the other night, the first BBQ of the year! we had grilled veggies, pork ribs, and home made wine. Mike's roomate, George makes some good wine. we drank a whole jug of it....ahh spring is here.
I really don't have anything to write about.