What I Do Instead of Praying...[Save Me From The Giggle Loop]

I was on the bus today, thinking about all the times that I have bowed my head in pretended prayer in my life. I had assumed that pretending to pray/going through the motions is what is expected of me.

On the bus today, though, I had an epiphany: this could actually be offensive. I mean, everyone else assumes I am just like them, over here with my head bowed, solemn expression, having my own private talk with God. Except I'm not, because I don't believe there is even a God to listen to me, and even if He did exist, he would think that my thoughts were the worst, ever.

Mostly, during these moments of silence/contemplation/group prayer, I have one internal objective.

Do not think anything that could start a giggle loop:

[Warning: to know about the giggle loop is to become a part of the giggle loop]


So without further ado, this is what I'm doing while pretending to pray in different siutations

 1. The before meal prayer

This one is probably the most straightforward of them all. Basically, while something is talking about whatever, and yes, I did just call a prayer "whatever," I'm thinking something along the lines of this:

Hungry. Hungry.  Hungry. Hungry. Restrain yourself. Hungry. Hungry. Salivating. Hungry. Restraint. Restraint. Hungry. 

 You know. Until the prayer is done. Because I'm hungry, and the food is all on the table (we can't pre-pray for this? Like when its cooking? Get it out of the way?) and one of the reasons I don't argue with the prayer is that even though the prayer is taking up precious moments when I could be stuffing my face, the argument would take even longer.

The thing is, if I wasn't to hungry to restrain my thoughts, I would try to think about the gratefulness of having a meal in front of me. Generally, this is what I do after meals: be thankful that my life's circumstances have allowed me to eat so generously. 

2. Moment of silence for the recently departed

 This obviously isn't so much about praying as the one before. No one commands you to think about any Gods. I prefer to think of it as recreational sad time. I really, really try to think good thoughts about the person I knew who has now died.

This gets complicated when I don't know the person. Then I try to think good thoughts about the person that I know that is affected.

But there are moments of silence when I don't have any connection to anyone involved whatsoever, and these fill me with the greatest sadness. In my recreational sad time, I hear the sad story and all I am thinking about is how awful it is. Recreational sad time imagination exploits this for all the awfulness it can get out of it. Immediately confronted in my own head with an imaginary drama. Without the structure of prayer, my mind seizes onto the worst of the imagery. And then instead of the aforementioned giggle loop, I'm trying not to loudly sob at the loss. This could possibly be worse than a giggle loop, because I have no connection whatsoever to the people who are actually hurting.

[Edit: I thought more about this, and its mostly because I don't know anything about this person whatsoever except their tragedy. And social construct demands that I think about this person, so I'm left with their tragedy. It'd be nice if I got thrown a bone, like, "Mildred, who died this week at 67 after living a nice full life in Friendship Heights," so my mind could be like "Full life! Nice section of town!" But no, Mildred died, please pray for her immediate family....so all I think about is people who loved this lovely Mildred person and no longer have her in their life.]

3. Random "Let Us Pray" moments

This is maybe the worst of them all, because these are the most susceptible to laughter. Thankfully, they don't come up accept in religious environments. But I do run into them.

Occasionally, I go to churches. My boyfriend is into Unitarian Universalism, and honestly, if I were to enter any house of worship, I'd prefer it be a UU church. The last wedding I went to had a "Let Us Pray" moment too.

There are generally stages to the madness that goes on in my brain during a "Let Us Pray" moment:

The Stage Where I Try To Think About Something Positive

Work hasn't been so bad lately. I had a really good hamburger last week. My commutes been going smoothly. I read a really awesome book yesterday

The Stage Where I Treat This Like A Shooting Star

I would like a raise, lose twenty pounds, win the lottery, be generally awesome, get new chapsticks, write in my blog more often....

The Stage Where I Begin To Wonder When The "Let Us Pray" Will end

So....how long are we going to sit here and do nothing but be quiet?

The Stage Where I Sneakily Look Around The Room

Yeah, everyone looks like they're still praying

Generally, this is the part when prayer gets ended. But who's timing it? Is the person in charge just waiting until they feel like they've got all their prayers in, or do they have a timer going? If its the former, is it one of those things where the more practice you have, the more efficient you are? Or is it more like endurance, like because you pray like, all the time, you can go for longer? And is it really fair to put me against that standard, the equivalent of a prayer couch potato?

Anyway. None of this is shocking. I'm not deliberately thinking of SINS AND HOW MUCH I LOVE SINNING during prayer, because it doesn't seem worthwhile; it would only be minimally rewarding, because I would be the only one to know. And, after all, if they are the type to care about that, they are certainly the type to be pissed that I'm mimicking prayer instead of doing the real thing.

This video might be offensive to you...

....if you dislike hearing the word "fuck" too much.



It was in my head all weekend. Maybe I should have had a catchiness warning as well as a Watch Out, Prudes! warning.

Ray Bradbury turned 90 recently.

[From io9]

New Elsinore Album Out!

...And Facebook thought that I wouldn't know, even though I'm a fan of Elsinore on Facebook, so they helpfully suggested it.

 

Good try, Facebook, I'm all over it!

[You should probably be checking out their new album right freaking now]

Blur vs Oasis on Facebook

Hey, Facebook, thanks for bringing the mid nighties!

We Landed On The Moon - "All The Little Lambs"

I've been subscribed to Hollaback DC on my Google Reader for a while now, and usually read with a strange fascination. It isn't just me that hates being gawked at, forced into awkward conversations, and asked for my hand in marriage.... all by perfect strangers.  I hate when men I don't know motion for me to take off my headphones to tell me that they think I'm beautiful, Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have a husband?

My headphones were on because I didn't want to be bothered. My nose was in a book because I didn't want you to talk to me. I didn't make eye contact because I want to be left alone. You need directions? I'll give them to you. You need help finding where the nearest Starbucks is? Fine. But you want to proposition me for sex, you want me to smile for you, you want to distract me from whatever I'm doing just because? You want a hug from me so you can grab my ass? No thank you.

I've had We Landed On The Moon's cd, This Will Be One For The Books on a flash drive at a concert of theirs in February.

[Side note: On the clip above and at the concert I was at, the lead singer's vocals were not mixed high enough. Her voice is great and I think highlighting it would be the best for everybody.]

I was listening to it this morning on the way to work when "All The Little Lambs" came on. And it was angsty about all the Hollaback problems that I'd both been experiencing and reading about lately (an example of such angst; trying to find a place where street harassment does not exist).

The song starts with these repeated words, over and over and over again:

He said, "Hey babydoll, won't you come sit across from me

so I can look at you more."

Well, what you looking at me for?

When I try to explain to people the situations, the fact that I don't like it, they don't get it. I don't see any reason for anybody to be gawking at me; he doesn't even want to talk; all he wants his her looks. Degrading, right? What if I don't want to cater to your need, your desire to look at me? To talk to me so you can flirt and hit on me? So you can use degrading nicknames like 'babydoll' to refer to a grown-ass woman?

The chorus is a little hard to understand. I think it goes something like, "And all the little lambs / we need to get a lock for the door." I guess I wouldn't compare myself to a lamb in this situation: I can do something. I can say no, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to stay in the same vicinity as you. If it goes too far, I can call the police.


And a stranger saying this to a woman is seriously disturbing:

You got an old hand rag and a box full of magazines

Wipe the sheets where you say you keep score

Well, what you looking at me for?

 But the next verse makes me think she's a waitress:

You got some change in your pocket that you want to try to give to me

 Should I pick it up from the floor?

Well, what you looking at me for?

Dropping her change, her tip and livelihood so he can watch her bend down and pick up? Yeah, I've seen worse. Even the previous verse isn't out of the ordinary for someone working customer service. While being a cashier in a video rental store, I was handed six note pad pages. The first one and a half were about how the author of the pages (an older man, maybe in his 50s) was a good Christian man. The remaining pages were all the sex acts he wanted to perform on/with me.

I can't remember what I did, but I remember this part very clearly: I was angry at him for taking advantage of my status as a customer service worker. I was being friendly because I was being paid to be friendly, nothing more. And I wasn't asking for it in the way that I was dressed: I was wearing loose khaki pants and a polo three sizes too big. I treated him not differently before that than any other customer.

A waitress depends on her tips. Rocking the boat and calling someone out on their bullshit can hurt your livelihood. As a CSR, I was afraid that if I did anything that I would get in trouble for not being nice enough to the customer. That complicates things, and the harasser knows it, takes advantage.

The thing I like most about this song? It doesn't beg you to like it like most pop songs do. This is the song, this is the woman, this is the message; accept it. Most of the other songs on the album have a toe tapping beat and a nice melody; this features awesome, escalating, defiant vocals.

Yeah. I'm going to say this made my day.

Insatiable by Meg Cabot

I had heard all the hype about Insatiable by Meg Cabot from her blog. She was featured in EW's Summer Beach Reads, which, honestly, I don't know how anyone can say "Beach Read" ironically with everything happening in the gulf.

Of course, the only thing I was thinking as a finished it was, "When's the next one coming out? There is going to be a next one, right?"

I hope its not too much to say, but this video makes my boyfriend cry....

Fireworks don't make me feel patriotic. That letter makes me feel patriotic.

[And in the interest of full disclosure, it makes me cry too. Ken Burn's The Civil War, on Netflix Watch Instantly now!]