Wednesday, February 6, 2008

A Journey of a Thousand Miles...

Last night's Fat Tuesday may have been the best yet. The gumbo turned out extra spicy, the crowd was extra fun, and Francine, our secretary at work, took home the arm-wrestling trophy and earned a day off from work with her powerhouse win over yours-truly(I said if I beat her she would have to go in--it was a good thing I didn't!)

I took the day off from work and spent the day with Jeannie. We got Dunkin' Donuts to help nurse out my hangover and went for a walk in Fairmount Park in the afternoon. I spent the latter part of the day napping before having my one meal of leftover cornbread, collards, and beans, and catching the bus to Andorra to go to Mass. No one would be seeing my ashes tonight after church since it is so late--no running into other members of the Tribe marked with the charred sign of the cross on their forehead; no subtle masonic nods of recognition on the bus; no feeling like a full burka-clad Muslim gliding along the streets of Germantown, passing stares like a fantôme noire. Instead, it is a quiet bike ride back to Roxborough, pedaling lightly and coasting downhill in the windless warm red night, for the evening benediction of taking the pictures off the wall and putting them into storage until Easter, shaving my head, and lying down to sleep. I did not go into the basement tonight, though my mind twirled with thoughts of geared electric motors and three-speed hubs as I sat in the pew at church, munching on the Body of Christ. Riding home without my laden messenger bag (which I almost always have with me, filled with things, 'essentials'), there seemed to be a lightness to each stroke, like cutting butter with a warm knife; it was nice to do without the weight for a night.

Upcoming Lenten blogs:

"No Light Without Darkness"
"Ashes to Ashes"
"What Goes In; What Goes Out"
"Plucking Grain"
"Orgasm--the Capstone of an Anticipatory Existence"
"Slowly, Slowly"
"Liturgy in Two Part Harmony"

Quote for the night:

"Don't even think about leaving." --Msgr. Mcgeown, addressing those who might be tempted to get their ashes and run before the end of the liturgy tonight.

Listening to: Samamidon; But This Chicken Proved Falsehearted

1 comment:

Jeannie said...

you look a little like an ax murderer in that top pic, but a hot ax murderer - one that I would have conjugal visits with in jail.