Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Friday, Mar. 17, 2006 - 8:47 p.m.

I am having a weird Lent. Really weird. Very ambiguous or ambivalent or some combination of both. I don't like it. Usually during Lent I feel good, that I am sacrificing for God, to sort of say "look, you got nailed to a cross for my ass, and I just want you to know, I appreciate that." It sucks to jones for sugar all day long for 45 days, but it also feels good to affirm my faith in that small way. This time, I left myself the birthday cake out, and it's been weird. Like, not really guilty, but not really good either. More like it doesn't really matter whether I have the cake or not. And that's just unsettling, because every other time I've left an out and then utilized it, I felt really bad and decided not to do it again for the whole of that Lent. This time though, it's just really like it could not possibly matter. Have cake, don't have cake, eat sugar, don't eat sugar, who cares? Does God really care? Like, when I'm jonesing, which I haven't done much of, actually, and maybe that's why it's so weird, coz it doesn't feel like much of a sacrifice at all anyway, usually, there's like this battle going on inside, all day long every day of the thing: man, I really want sugar; i would kill for some sugar. just a bite man, have one little bite, what's it gonna hurt? And then the next thought is, dude; christ got nailed to a cross for your ass - do you really want to have to look him in the eye and explain how you couldn't go without sugar for 45 measley days? come on. This time all that's going on besides the general lack of cravings is, seriously, in the general scheme of things, is it really any kind of deal at all whether or not you eat some sugar?

As I said, it's unsettling. I'm thinking of changing in mid-stream and giving up Diet Coke, because that will freaking SUCK and might actually feel like I'm doing something. Problem is, I need to give up coke anyway, so I'm thinking that won't really serve the purpose anymore than sugar, which is pretty much just a spiritually-enforced diet. I don't know.

I love when you write crap in your blog, and people* feel compelled to write you and tell you how wrong you are for writing what you did and how you have no right to say something like that, and what if someone reads it, etc.

Know what? It's MY blog. It's how I feel. You need to learn some boundaries, you twit. I am not you. You are not me. We do not merge in some fucked-up Brian DePalma sort of way, wherein I think what you think and vice versa. I am interested in what other people have to say, which is why I have a comments feature and post my email address. Unlike you, however, my self-image does not hinge on whether or not other people agree with me. It's nice when they do, but the world is composed of a whole heapa different viewpoints and thought processes, and news flash for ya: that's normal. That's the way it goes. If we all loved vanilla, there'd be no need for other flavors. We don't. Grow up and learn to deal. Because I guarantee you, no matter where you go, no matter what you do, every single day, somebody, somewhere disagrees with your ass. That's just life. Believe me, I disagree with at least half a dozen people I run across every single day of my life. Acknowledge and move on.

And no, I do not need you to pray for my soul. But thank you for asking.

And "copies" is spelled c-o-p-i-e-s, not coppyes. Dude.

(But ME, you're concerned with. ::sigh::)

(Bygones.)

*I wish to stress I am not referring to anyone here who reads regularly or whom I consider a peep. I am referring to total strangers who send me random mail trying to guilt my ass.

The editor in Bay 4 the other night, who is also an actor when he's not editing stuff, asked me when I said he looked tired if I "[had] anything".

Do I have anything??? Like what, dude? Are you asking me if I'm packing speed around in my bag? Coke? PCP? Angel dust? The hell? Seriously; what the hell do you think I would be carrying around with me that would help you with your bleary-eyed exhaustion at 1am on a weeknight??? And what in hell makes you think I'd bring it with me to work, if I did have? Then, to top it off, me being the dumbass that I am, I actually had to ponder that a second before I shook my head and said "Vitamins."

Yes, I actually said that. I am a dork.

And then because I am a problem solver, when I was on my way out, I stuck my head back in his door and said, "You know, there's some string cheese and coke in the refrigerator," and he's all, coke? Like the white stuff? And I'm like, no, dude, like the soda. "Oh," he says, "No thanks."

This conversation made more sense today, when I found out he's from Miami.

Peace out,
Katie

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