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Expect many more posts from Ryan and Aaron than from me, but that's OK, because they're funnier than I am.

OK, after a long hiatus, I decided to at least post my thoughts for Easter Day.  Whether it's in therapy or over a beer, there's a lot of talk and worry about finding one's identity.  Finding what it is that is core to you and that makes you who you are.  It hit me today that not only can religion be a part of that, but it can also be a very easy way out of facing that conflict.  Now, you say, "Sasha, surely you've realized before now that people sometimes use their religion as an excuse to not think about things?"  Of course.  But that isn't what I mean here.  I mean that it's a way to find yourself.  But I'm not sure that it's yourself that you're finding.  The question for the faithful then becomes:  how do I make sure that I'm finding God and finding myself, but even considering the interaction of the two, but not substituting the one for the other?

The Eucharistic Prayer we used today is definitely my least favorite, but it does have a line I like:  "Deliver  us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for
renewal. "

Happy Easter.  Non-religious posts to follow.

Currently Playing Brooks & Dunn - Greatest Hits By Brooks & Dunn see related

I'm in such a country-lovin' (by that I mean the music, of course, not any patriotic sentiment) mood these days.  People who don't like country don't have a sense of humor. 

However, I feel like whoever writes country songs is stuck in the first two parts of the Oresteia.

On the one hand, you have the fascinating representation of women getting back at their perps of domestic violence ("Independence Day", "Earl Had to Die"), you've got yer infidelity killings and revenge adultery ("Thunder Rolls", "She's not the Cheating Kind", "Mama's in the Graveyard, Papa's in the Pen"), and then - well, I'll not even mention the patriotic songs (praeteritio is totally hot).

But then "Devil Went Down to Georgia" or "Friends in Low Places" comes on the radio and man!  Country music is looking good again.

Back to D.C., finally.  (And home to God's country this Thursday evening, if I can swing it.)  Last week was filled with North Carolinian goodness (getting honked at 3 times in a one block stretch, stepping on a lizard while walking up the steps to the Duke chemistry building, etc.)  Fortunately, this week-end was time for a little rest and relaxation, in the form of flight back to Baltimore, a shuttle ride to Dulles (the *other* D.C. airport), 2 intra-airport shuttles, 3 hours of sitting around Dulles, a flight to State College, PA, to be followed by a one hour drive to Woolrich, PA.  Population:  500.  Mileage:  202.  Time:  11 hours.  Efficiency never felt so good.

This was, of course, followed by a week-end of hilarity, including comments by my grandmother that included "Those structured recesses that you people have these days don't let you use your imagination"  [She thought that P.E. classes had replaced recess], "Let's look through all the china now so that we know which ones you want for when you're married", and "How's all your work with Seapack?"  Monday morning couldn't come soon enough.