Saturday, October 30, 2010

God sees you even in the bathrrom

I absolutely hate it when "no-touch" sensor-driven technology refuses to acknowledge my presence! 

You know what I am talking about:  Hand dryers, faucets, soap dispensors and lets not forget...toilets that can't sense the motion of my lily white tush! (and that is not the word that I wanted to use)

Why is it that this stuff can't "see" me?  Am I wearing the wrong color?  Do I not radiate the correct infrared wave frequency?  I don't get it.  Is it just me? 

I've been told that they "see" motion, but I am not convinced.  I kid you not, I have done something I have come to call the "Walmart Wiggle" and I still come up wet handed!

Well this phenomena has got me to thinking about God. Yup, in my head there is a connection. 

I have always liked the story of Hagar in the Bible.  Here is the simple version:  Hagar is a slave woman who gets knocked up by her master, Abraham at the request of  Abraham's wife, Sarah.  (Sarah is barren).  Well Sarah gets all bent out of shape about something and then tells Abraham to get rid of her and they kick Hagar to the desert.  (This is my version, for the Biblically correct version go to Genesis 16 or so)

Anyway, this Egyptian slave encounters God in the desert and He sees her predicament and speaks to her...  In fact, Hagar coins a new name for God...EL ROI (pronounced Elroy--like George Jetson's dog).  Anyway, EL ROI means "The God Who Sees ME".

This name for God is only used once in the entire Bible...and it is Hagar's story.  I like that...  (and I bet that if Hagar lived in 21st century USA the bathroom fixtures would cooperate for her!)

So everytime those blasted dryers, soapers and flushers won't work for you, just remember that even if they can't see you--God can. 

So have a great Saturday morning and if you end up in a Walmart bathroom or such, just go ahead, I won't judge you...just shake wiggle, shake and if need be dance...and if all else fails, just wipe your hands on your pants.



Sincerely,
The Church Organist Daughter

She [Hagar] gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her:  "You are the God who sees me, " for she said, "I have now seen the One who sees me."  That is why the well was call Beer Lahai Roi [well of the Living One who sees me"]  Genesis 16:13-14 
Seriously a Beer well...I am all for beer...well I use to be...

Thursday, October 21, 2010

unmentionables

I have been creatively stunted lately.  Just haven't felt that I have much to contribute to the Blogosphere.  These "dry spells" generally coincide with periods of duress.  Too much work.  Too little play.  Too.  Too. Too everything...

However today I have had a breakthrough and have some thoughts I would like to share.  Life still feels a little (okay, "a lot") cRoOKed & UnBALAnCeD, but I need to say something, or surely my head will soon go kablooey!

My topic really is quite sensitive, a little delicate and in some circles unmentionable.
Let's talk BVDs, G-strings, bikinis, boxers, briefs,  drawers, intimate things, lingerie, loincloth, long johns, panties, skivvies, underclothes, undies undergarment, underpants, underthings, knickers, and bloomers...

Lately I have found myself describing the quality of a day in terms of what a particular undergarment might feel like to ME should I be required to wear it.

For instance, a happy, contented, peaceful & productive day equates (in my world) wearing the classic brief : nylon shell, no lace (too itchy), tags torn out and a cotton crotch... 
A less satisfying day would perhaps be labeled a hipster or high cut brief  day.  Life is pretty good with just a few adjustments here and there.

A "bad day" is equivalent to the boy short or bloomers.  I think that bloomers really are quite deceptive; they give the illusion & promise of comfort, but in reality they ride up and twist on you at will.  


In my world an absolute crap day is symbolized by the infamous thong .   If I were to report to you that, "I am having a thong kinda day", it would probably be in your best interests to stay away and let me ride out the wedgie.

Speaking of thongs...I woke this morning all crabbied-up and irritated and sent the following text to a friend who understands my strange language.  It read: 

"Thong.  On backwards.  And it is splitting the girls in two.  And you?" 


And with that word picture I will leave you...

 
Wishing you all a "cotton-crotch" kinda day,

The Church Organist Daughter
 

Monday, October 11, 2010

not forgotten.

This month I celebrated 21 sober months.
My husband bought me a cake.
It said, "Happy 21st"
Ironic.
Thanks, Hun...
I loved the frosting.


This picture was also taken this month.
I like this picture.
I can see myself again.


It really took a long time for this girl to come out of hiding.
I mean she quit drinking twenty-one months ago...
What took her so long?


I have stared at the stranger in the mirror I hope for the last time.
The stranger I both smiled politely at and I cursed at.
I think she is gone.


Gone.
But not forgotten.




Thursday, October 7, 2010

sit like a lady...


This was Rosebud's and Clodhopper's favorite chair while growing up.

They often would "negotiate" to determine which of them got to sit in the chair first.  

This chair was awesome.  It was round, blue and made of 'slippery-est' of vinyls.  Clodhopper and Rosebud would slide, spin and splay their limbs every-which-direction.  Sitting still was simply not an option.  Maintaining an erect and lady-like posture was out of the question... 

I can still hear The Mom & The GrandMom, "Sit like a lady!"

But we weren't ladies then...we were kids...and we sat like kids...

 I believe that if Rosebud & Clodhopper had access to a cool, round, blue chair today, they still MIGHT still push & shove a little to get first chance at it.... but they would most DEFINITELY still sit, spin, splay and...do all that unladylike sisters do.  Yup...that is what they would do...