tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71451335234687684462012-02-14T10:29:41.712-05:00The sometimes confused ramblings of a Canadian Christo-Pagan, including thoughts on spirituality (of course), feminism, fat acceptance/HAES and whatever else I feel like talking about.Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.comBlogger1151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-73328559251886211212012-02-08T19:34:00.002-05:002012-02-09T14:02:54.844-05:00

As narcissistic as it may be, I have to admit that I do check my statistics page once or twice a week. I'm curious about the people who read this blog, after all; I don't get many comments, so it's nice to be able to get at least some kind of an idea of what sort of people read what I write. First of all, not a lot of people read this blog. Generally, I only get a couple hundred pageviews per

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-4885734634475357282012-01-26T17:38:00.002-05:002012-02-13T13:57:52.037-05:00

(Today's post title taken from a song by the "Bravo Allstars," a pop supergroup composed of acts like the Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and The Moffats.) I've been thinking lately of the role that music played in my gradual adoption of a Christo-Pagan spirituality. When I was a child, the thing I loved best about all those mandatory school Masses was all the singing we got to do. If I had to, I

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-75848056632028060252012-01-18T10:24:00.002-05:002012-01-18T10:57:54.588-05:00

I'm a small-time blogger from Canada, but I get enough pageviews from the USA that I believe that it's worth saying something about two dangerous and unnecessary pieces of legislation in the USA that can, and will, affect more than just citizens the United States should they pass.  Because I'm not a U.S. citizen, and I don't live within the borders of the USA even if I'm a very near neighbour, I

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-42432088477533325832011-12-31T20:45:00.001-05:002011-12-31T20:55:07.930-05:00

By some measures, this has been a significantly more interesting year than I'd expected it to be.  In the past year, I've made some headway in conquering my depression and my eating-disordered behaviour, mustered the courage to let several new people into my life, become friends with most of them, started working (if only on a volunteer basis) in my chosen field, come to a slightly better

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-73543196811814277252011-12-17T00:56:00.000-05:002011-12-17T00:56:24.863-05:00

It occurs to me that there's something else that I should've made a bit clearer in my previous post: I don't just consider myself pro-choice because I believe that the option of abortion should be available if it is necessary, for whatever reason a pregnant person might want or need it. I am also pro-choice because I believe that it should be easier for those who want to continue the pregnancy,

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-91673838998645278542011-12-16T17:06:00.001-05:002011-12-16T17:20:34.360-05:00

(The following post started out as a response to a comment on my post Why I Am Pro-Choice.  However, my usual verbosity got the better of me, and I decided that it would be better in the end if I made an actual post of it.) Hello Anonymous, I wish I could be sure that you would see my reply to your comment, because just as you felt called to comment, I feel called to respond.  You say that you

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-31124321065045887812011-12-05T22:54:00.001-05:002011-12-14T18:56:35.486-05:00

Look, I know that it's extremely important to a lot of people that they buy the perfect Christmas gift for everybody on their gift list.  (Incidentally, I find the idea of compulsory gifts somewhat ridiculous—yes, even when I'm the one receiving them—but that's a whole other rant.)  And I know that the task can be rather frustrating.  But those articles that list gift suggestions for people based

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-91759787573181377582011-12-01T23:04:00.000-05:002011-12-01T23:04:54.016-05:00

I apologize for the fact that my most recent posts here haven't been particularly uplifting.  This, I'm afraid, will be more of the same.  I wish it didn't have to be.  But unfortunately, I woke up to some sad news today.  One of the altos from my church choir died sometime yesterday.  It wasn't really surprising—she had been suffering from heart problems for years, and they'd gotten worse in the

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-1100185961622231262011-11-24T08:59:00.000-05:002011-11-24T08:59:30.711-05:00

Today is the first anniversary of my grandfather's death.  As much as I feel tempted to write about that at some length, and I'll probably do so in the pen-and-paper journal that I still keep, I find that my thoughts are turning every bit as much to my family's reactions to that terribly difficult time, not least because of the role that religion played, particularly in the last week and a half

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-60282524072511605872011-11-20T23:51:00.000-05:002011-11-20T23:51:03.790-05:00

It's no secret that I like to crochet.  Wherever I go, I generally have my current project with me, and I pick it up and work on it every chance I get.  And it took over a year, but I finally finished my first lap blanket tonight. I could've finished it a long time ago, but I held off, though I wasn't quite sure why. The thing is, this particular project was one that I started shortly before my

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-62175461885069124782011-11-16T08:27:00.000-05:002011-11-16T08:27:43.328-05:00

"You're taking this too seriously, dear." It's a common criticism of feminists—that we have no sense of humour, that we take things way too seriously.  In this case, some months ago my mother was telling me about a distant cousin of ours who had male-to-female sex-change surgery.  She still refers to that distant cousin as "he," and even laughed at me when I corrected the pronoun to "she,"

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-74482333552563732782011-11-11T11:04:00.000-05:002011-11-11T11:04:59.067-05:00

The last time there was an 11/11/11, so many things hadn't happened yet. The RMS Titanic was still being fitted out for what was then assumed would be a long and safe career at sea as a luxury liner. Lester B. Pearson, the Canadian Prime Minister whose government (among other things) would introduce such things as universal health care, the Canada Pension Plan, and the current Canadian flag,

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-16918624049402067392011-11-04T20:00:00.000-04:002011-11-04T20:00:11.820-04:00

When talking about Christianity, people inevitably end up talking about "the Church," as if all the denominations were still (if they were ever really) all the very same.  But the thing is, despite the fact that all of them talk about this dude named Jesus who said some pretty awesome and radical things about 2000 years ago—and I'm not just using the words "awesome" and "radical" in their 90's

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-40045883689284427912011-10-28T17:55:00.002-04:002011-12-26T13:42:32.298-05:00

I've written before about the problems that I've had with my starvation-type eating-disordered behaviour.  I've talked about the health problems it's caused me; if I've been restricting again, I even experience rumination syndrome for a few days afterwards, no matter how little I eat, though I find that it does subside after awhile.  I've talked about the possible reasons behind my tendency to

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-64453608386828596152011-10-28T11:08:00.000-04:002011-10-28T11:08:17.469-04:00

Just a heads-up: I'm not planning on abandoning or deleting this blog, but I did decide that it might be a good idea to back it up elsewhere, just in case, so from now on everything will be posted both here and at the WordPress version of Meditations of a Surprised Christo-Pagan.

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-66350658027273656492011-10-22T07:50:00.000-04:002011-10-22T07:50:16.248-04:00

Talk about a lack of compassion. According to this article at Firedoglake, the US Conference of Catholic Bishops has banned Catholic nursing homes and hospitals from "removing feeding tubes or ending palliative procedures of any kind, even when the individual has an advance directive to guide their end-of-life care."  Where there used to be some leeway for judgement about whether it would be

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-48028752144330841632011-10-20T08:20:00.000-04:002011-10-20T08:20:00.634-04:00

In some ways, I was lucky. I grew up without any real concept of sexual orientation.  When I was in Grade 2, it was briefly mentioned that some kids had two moms or two dads, and I believe it was in the context of remarriage after a divorce, but it was easy enough for my mind to come to the conclusion that some kids had two moms or two dads who lived in the same house.  It seemed like a strange

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-91173426705895333122011-10-09T17:52:00.004-04:002011-10-09T18:02:20.923-04:00

I was in high school when those "WWJD" bracelets really became a trend. "WWJD" is, of course, "What Would Jesus Do?" I have to admit that I never liked them. At first, it was because I thought they were too self-consciously pious, too self-righteous. They didn't seem, to me, to be asking; they proclaimed that the wearer was religious and they implied something holier-than-thou about them,

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-44904338154517679702011-10-05T09:06:00.000-04:002011-10-05T09:06:01.180-04:00

Just now, I was re-reading the post that I wrote on the day of Troy Davis' funeral, and I realized something.  In that post, I refer to "the state of Georgia," but (I hope) it is implicitly understood that I meant its institutions; its government, its legal and judicial systems, etc. rather than its people as a whole.  It seems to me that in general, we tend to refer to provinces, states, entire

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-23353065725352156532011-10-03T15:17:00.001-04:002011-10-05T08:58:55.055-04:00

It seems to me that the phrase "when all else fails, read the directions" isn't always a great piece of advice.  Sometimes the directions don't work, or are too vaguely outlined, or, in the worst cases, are set up so that only some people will ever really get the full benefits of whatever we're supposed to be reading the directions for.  Sometimes the best advice can be "when all else fails,

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-56694573237577257292011-10-01T12:00:00.001-04:002011-10-03T17:00:41.152-04:00

As I write this, there's a funeral going on that should not have been necessary.  I have the live stream of the celebration of Troy Davis' life on in the background, and this is what is going through my mind. Since Davis was put to death on September 21, two other men have been executed in the USA, not counting Lawrence Brewer of Texas, who was also executed on September 21, a few hours before

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-5976400420039453392011-09-29T08:33:00.000-04:002011-09-29T08:33:52.557-04:00

The other day, I was looking for my brother's passport.  He doesn't live here at present, and he forgot it here the last time he came to visit, and he needed the information in it for some reason.  In the process of sifting through the ridiculous amount of stuff on his desk (and finding out more about my brother than I really needed to know), I found a little book of affirmations and meditations

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-65326900022195388572011-09-26T10:07:00.001-04:002012-02-14T10:29:41.727-05:00

So the other day I had dinner with a friend. This wouldn't be particularly noteworthy if it weren't for the fact that for the moment, at least, this friend of mine lives in Michigan.  He's there as a result of some circumstances I don't feel free to divulge because although there's nothing criminal involved, it's a situation that has been very hurtful to two people of whom I am very fond, and I

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-58385965323133609712011-09-23T11:05:00.001-04:002011-09-23T11:06:50.050-04:00

I'll admit up front that I'm not much of an activist.  I've walked picket lines a time or two in support of causes which I felt deserved my time and attention.  I've donated money to various causes when I could afford to do so.   (Hint: even when you can't afford to do so, sometimes there'll be a way to manage a donation of some kind.  See the "Free Rice" and "FreePoverty" links on my left

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-88367350364977073742011-09-21T19:49:00.001-04:002011-09-21T21:02:52.963-04:00

For what is probably an extremely obvious reason, I've been thinking a lot about capital punishment today. I've never lived in a country where there is a death penalty; the last execution in Canada was carried out twenty years before I was born, and the practice was entirely abolished here six years before I was born.  But according to a relatively recent poll, a fair number of Canadians support

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-42075698567558190412011-09-11T09:30:00.167-04:002011-09-21T12:08:58.345-04:00

You should know that I wasn't going to write this post.  Believe it or not, I'd said pretty much everything that I'd meant to say in the post I wrote a year ago today.  There are already so many perspectives out there on the September 11 terrorist attacks, and many of them are far deeper and far more powerful than I suspect that this is going to be.  And yet, I find myself compelled to write

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-3101239185393466372011-09-05T07:53:00.004-04:002011-10-23T08:03:01.203-04:00

Before I get on with this post, I should warn you that my depression has been kicking in again lately.  Right now, I just need to vent... Anyway. I started keeping a diary when I was eleven years old.  There were a couple of years when I would reserve the very last page in each book for a letter to myself at some future age; it was fun to imagine the type of life I might have back then.  I got

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-47953553392890589782011-08-26T05:51:00.000-04:002011-08-26T05:51:27.117-04:00

So I've been home for a few days now.  I wanted to blog several times when I was in Dublin, but my access to the internet was somewhat erratic; the hotel where we stayed wanted to charge an outrageous amount even just for a couple of days' worth of access, and we were there slightly over a week, so that didn't really work out that well; the few times I managed to hop online, it was generally to

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-82905436897755008422011-08-12T16:21:00.001-04:002011-12-26T13:22:29.335-05:00

So I'm walking down Princes Street today when this tall older gentleman (I'd place him in his late 60's at the youngest) offers me a Gospel pamphlet.  I politely decline and he goes on his way, offering other people his pamphlets as he goes along.  And then I stop for awhile to look down at some of the gardens, which are really very beautiful, and he (apparently forgetting that he'd already

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-36127410456270094852011-08-11T05:06:00.000-04:002011-08-11T05:06:53.254-04:00

This will probably be a fairly scattered collection of thoughts; a kind of mental potpourri, so to speak, so there won't be much structure... The last time I was here, I was seventeen years old and not nearly as streetwise or as confident as I am now.  I wasn't quite a nervous wreck, but I did tend to stay close to my mother, and I spent most of our day in Edinburgh trying to assure her that,

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-56976314414127997932011-08-06T14:29:00.000-04:002011-08-06T14:29:40.098-04:00

So, here I am, sitting in a surprisingly comfortable chair at Pearson International Airport in Toronto.  If all goes well, in a few hours, I'm going to be boarding a flight bound for Heathrow Airport, and then travelling to Scotland (Edinburgh, to be precise) for a week, with a week in Dublin, Ireland, to follow.  It's the first time I've gone on such a long trip to such far-away places since

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-37610353686106772102011-07-31T14:45:00.001-04:002011-07-31T14:45:00.215-04:00

This afternoon, someone I used to care very deeply for got married to his girlfriend of five years. There was a time, about nine years ago now, when we were very good friends, and I cherished some hope of eventually being more than that, even as I berated myself for that hope.  He's tall and slender and looks a bit like Orlando Bloom; as much as I'm still trying to convince myself that I'm

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-28482615126523195552011-07-20T09:09:00.002-04:002011-07-20T09:13:17.872-04:00

I hate the way that the phrase "politically incorrect" gets misused.  And "politically correct" as well, for that matter. Being politically correct, or at least trying to be, can sound a little silly at times.  Maybe it's even downright ridiculous sometimes because of the verbal gymnastics involved.  But it also tends to come from an intention of not being offensive or hurtful; it's usually a

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-10444332749939663092011-07-16T12:46:00.006-04:002011-07-20T09:19:58.219-04:00

I admit it: I'm a die-hard Get Smart fan. The original series, that is, though I also enjoyed the movie that came out in 2008, in spite of its many problems with characterization and plot.  Get Smart is, and always has been, one of the inspirations for my funnier writing; as ridiculous as some of the plots may seem, the writers, cast, and crew of Get Smart told great stories that somehow managed

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-34668187280722740252011-06-30T15:03:00.006-04:002011-07-01T11:28:01.370-04:00

We hear a lot about whether other people's choices about what to do with their bodies is "natural." Two cis women, or two cis men, for that matter, who have sex with each other are held to be "unnatural" because they can't reproduce without scientific help and a donor of some kind.  Heterosexual couples who don't want children are called "unnatural" because apparently everyone should want to

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-4108584209137687672011-06-12T08:53:00.001-04:002011-06-12T08:53:00.292-04:00

Those who insist on upholding the sanctity of human life also tend to be the ones who don't mind if a longer life means more suffering.  Are you looking for an abortion because you were raped or the fetus is missing something rather important, like most of its lungs?  Tough, you're just going to have to give birth anyway, because human life is so sacred that it should have to suffer as much as

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-51292313040193356162011-06-08T14:35:00.002-04:002011-06-08T17:49:57.367-04:00

It seems odd, doesn't it?  A Christo-Pagan who has capital-"I" Issues with Christianity.  But it's true.  I've said before that I do have a lot of problems with things related to the faith that makes up about half of my current spiritual life. Actually, my problem isn't even with Christ himself.  (I'd hardly be a Christo-Pagan if that were the case, after all.)  Even when I was most adamant that

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-28466936222847216552011-05-19T09:38:00.000-04:002011-05-19T09:38:02.291-04:00

I know I've dealt with this question before—in my second entry here, no less—but I think it's one that I could stand to re-visit every once in awhile. The most obvious reason is that Christo-Paganism, as I practice it, anyway, is partially based on a framework that makes sense to me at a very deep level because even though my immediate family wasn't (and still isn't) particularly religious, I

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-24700773218350913332011-05-09T19:00:00.001-04:002011-05-09T19:02:07.185-04:00

...because, as far as I can tell from having read this article on Ars Technica, there's actually some sense coming out of the Vatican.  Environmentally speaking, anyway.  And though I still feel no small measure of contempt for the source of this statement, I can't deny that I agree with this particular message anyway. To summarize: the damage that we've been causing to the environment is real

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-76417084084121415742011-05-03T09:37:00.002-04:002011-05-03T09:45:19.170-04:00

I am so disappointed in my country right now. We have given a majority government to the one party leader in Canada who I absolutely think is the last person who should ever have had it—and the worst possible person for the Prime Minister's office.  We've just validated all his lies, all his hostility towards democracy and the common person, all his secrecy, all his refusals to do anything

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-35192341959832723322011-05-01T16:51:00.000-04:002011-05-01T16:51:46.098-04:00

Depending on how familiar you are with Canadian politics, you may or may not know that tomorrow, my country is heading to the polls.  For a lot of reasons, I don't think that it would be an exaggeration to say that this may be the most important Federal election that's yet taken place within my lifetime. And I'd like ask you to do a very little something for me. If you believe in any deity (or

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-38742898683396434672011-04-21T10:08:00.001-04:002011-04-21T10:10:40.470-04:00

Lately I've become very interested in shipwrecks.  I'm not sure why.  Once in awhile, though, the urge to learn more about shipwrecks just strikes me.  (I'm really missing the Shipwreck Central website right now; it went down last September.  It was a very informative site, and they had a fantastic interactive map of shipwrecks from all over the world, many of which included dive videos.)  

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-15150384531593949132011-04-08T08:11:00.003-04:002011-04-08T08:11:00.522-04:00

Here's what we're going to do. We are going to approach the subject of my health as if it doesn't solely depend on the amount of fat tissue I'm carrying with me. We are going to treat me as a human being, not an ambulatory pile of lard. We are going to look at possible decisions for my life and my health based on whether they're actually good for me, and possible for me, and not whether

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-45073550281633411912011-04-05T07:51:00.000-04:002011-04-05T07:51:56.191-04:00

Assholes like you infuriate me.  You are human, so I have to love you.  However, that doesn't mean that I have to like you very much or endorse your rotten, hateful, spiteful actions. Burning the Koran is no more a Christian act than bulldozing a church would be.  It's a senseless act of hate that's designed to offend.  Being a fanatic member of another religion, even one that has

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-42760340270523837382011-04-02T08:07:00.000-04:002011-04-02T08:07:05.454-04:00

For the most part, I don't wear much jewellery.  I have some nice things; some are relatively expensive (these are mostly gifts from my parents for various milestone birthdays or achievements), but mostly what I've got is pairs of earrings of the sort that you can get as a three-for-ten-dollars deal at low-budget accessory shops.  Strange, offbeat earrings are one of my guilty pleasures, though I

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-85392694313931150342011-03-28T07:11:00.000-04:002011-03-28T07:11:27.727-04:00

"Life is not fair.  Get used to it." I have always hated this piece of advice.  On the surface, it seems wise; let's face it, life is not fair for a hell of a lot of reasons.  There's never any guarantee that you'll actually earn the rewards you work for, or that you'll get them if you do earn them.  The right side, if there is one, doesn't always win.  There will always be people who will

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-74041762599203989602011-03-08T23:57:00.002-05:002011-03-09T00:00:13.423-05:00

If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals. —J. K. Rowling, through Sirius Black, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire A decent provision for the poor is the true test of civilization. —Samuel Johnson, Boswell: Life of Johnson The most certain test by which we judge whether a country is really free is the amount of security enjoyed by

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-53326123866808294742011-02-25T13:06:00.001-05:002011-02-25T13:06:30.036-05:00

 You can't protect life by condoning murder.  Or does "life" not matter once it's actually out of the womb?  I suppose not...otherwise, you'd be doing more to actually make things easier for the families of all those babies you're so keen on making women have.  Y'know, like giving them access to good health care, educational prospects, childcare options and the like. Oh, but I forgot—those are

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-4366940566176283682011-02-14T12:16:00.000-05:002011-02-14T12:16:45.152-05:00

Trigger Warnings: Suicide, Sexual Abuse I've just read The Agonizing Last Words of Programmer Bill Zeller.  For anyone who doesn't want to click through, this is apparently the suicide note that he left when he took his own life earlier this year.  In this note, he describes the horrific sexual abuse he suffered as a child and the darkness within him that resulted, a darkness which controlled

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-26510670536784823912011-02-10T11:33:00.000-05:002011-02-10T11:33:58.776-05:00

Ten years ago, spiritually speaking, I have to admit that I was a bit of a hypocrite. By that point in time, I'd been a practicing Pagan for about four years.  I admit, I still wasn't quite out of that stage in my life when I was extremely disillusioned with the faith of my childhood.  I believed that most Christians were closed-minded anti-Pagan fanatics who wouldn't hesitate to persecute the

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-9154624950275670542011-02-04T12:31:00.000-05:002011-02-04T12:31:28.764-05:00

Oh, hello, Eating Disorder.  You've been behaving so well lately that I hoped you'd managed to starve yourself to death instead of trying to do it to me.  Foolish, I know... I've written frequently here about my frequent urges to sink into that self-imposed state of semi-starvation that I believe is some form of eating disorder.  Social beliefs about fat people and our supposed constant gluttony

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-5063103140313157172011-01-21T09:53:00.001-05:002011-01-21T10:02:56.758-05:00

Before my community choir's Christmas concert last month, our director sent out an e-mail noting that there was an empty food donation box for a local charity near the door of the venue where we were going to perform—a museum of sorts that doesn't get much business in the winter—and he asked us to encourage our family and friends who were going to hear us sing to bring a couple of non-perishable

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-39754854746431054662011-01-19T11:18:00.000-05:002011-01-19T11:18:27.018-05:00

It's hardly a revelation that there are as many definitions of "normal" as there are people who use the word. In all actuality, it's become quite a cliché, hasn't it?  We're all different.  We're all individuals.  Even those who do their best to conform, to not stand out in the crowd, will have a certain amount of of individualism, even if it's only a tiny shred. What got me thinking about all

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-46032797091965124792010-12-23T11:32:00.000-05:002010-12-23T11:32:36.718-05:00

Here's the clip from The Vicar of Dibley I was talking about, with a bit of context.  Just be careful where and when you watch it, because of a couple of the jokes are definitely not work-safe, and abslolutely not kid-safe.

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-91311064116956859862010-12-23T10:45:00.003-05:002010-12-23T11:35:09.565-05:00

So here we are, about halfway between the Solstice and Christmas; I've had this post halfway in mind for the past week, but it finally seems to have come together. In many ways, the Winter Solstice is my favourite part of the year.  Up to that point, the amount of sunshine we get has been getting progressively smaller.  We tend to get large amounts of snow where I live, sometimes all at once (

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-44096063354730835462010-12-21T19:13:00.001-05:002010-12-21T19:25:53.732-05:00

This afternoon, I was re-reading this post by Tasha Fierce; she was reflecting on the series of posts she'd written for Bitch Magazine about fat and pop culture.  There was one line in this post that really got me thinking; for context's sake, I should probably tell you that she was talking about the fact that because of the hostility that her subject had aroused in so many readers, she quickly

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-31727352905254637112010-12-03T22:15:00.005-05:002010-12-23T11:18:29.125-05:00

My paternal grandfather died just a bit over a week ago; his funeral was a week ago today. He'd been in the hospital for about three months, at first just for something that could be treated; he was diabetic, though not insulin-dependent, and he developed gangrene in one of his toes. Unfortunately, even after the toe was removed he developed gangrene in his lower leg; it was amputated below the

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-82169685944804080862010-11-23T15:58:00.000-05:002010-11-23T15:58:21.916-05:00

It occurred to me just now that I should probably say that I have not lost interest in—or inspiration for—this blog; more updates are coming.  However, I'm in the midst of a family emergency at the moment and between stress, mild malnutrition, lack of sleep and a feeling that I'm not that far from becoming a complete emotional and physical wreck, I haven't got a whole lot of energy or ambition.

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-44487169945201271892010-11-11T11:00:00.091-05:002011-11-14T09:40:10.129-05:00

On November 11, 1918, the First World War came to its official end.  Since then, November 11 has been known as a day to remember those who died in war.  Generations of school children have been raised with the idea that war is not glorious and that we should be grateful to those who died in battle because they died for our freedom—though we should not idealize the way they died. Sometimes I

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-71096782651825987652010-10-27T10:20:00.000-04:002010-10-27T10:20:59.789-04:00

I've been going through another of my disordered eating (or starvation, rather) phases again lately. Something triggered it.  I'm not sure what; maybe it's because I've been exposed to even more fat hatred lately than I usually am, or maybe the usual low-level-but-constant-and-painful awareness of the way that people who are shaped like me are seen and treated in a world where only thin people

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-9531497841355174562010-10-22T18:55:00.002-04:002010-10-24T08:42:49.947-04:00

I read an editorial a few days ago that all but made my blood boil.  It has taken me this long to get my thoughts clear on this matter because even a single sentence written by Mr. Den Tandt is so full of absolute unwavering FAIL that it's a wonder that I could get through it once, never mind the several times that clarifying my objections to it required. I am not familiar with the case in

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-80792076448471211832010-10-09T17:21:00.001-04:002010-10-09T17:22:15.109-04:00

I found this poem when I was browsing through a poetry website the other day.  It's religiously-themed, but I think that anyone who's hopelessly self-righteous about anything, not just their religion, should be made to read it. A Word to the "Elect" Emily Brontë (as Ellis Bell) You may rejoice to think YOURSELVES secure; You may be grateful for the gift divine— That grace unsought, which made

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-29531527165838385262010-10-03T20:36:00.000-04:002010-10-03T20:36:17.632-04:00

The annual Life Chain demonstration was held today.  That bullshit like this still happens, even though abortion has been legal in Canada for a long time, is a source of never-ending frustration for me.  And although as a general rule I try to keep a fair and open mind about people, I just can't think well of anti-abortion activists and in the past, I've stated why. It's not that I dislike the

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-68567972567849214242010-09-28T11:44:00.001-04:002010-09-28T11:45:28.378-04:00

Over the next few days I'm going to be experimenting with various looks for the blog—I've always planned to put up my own background and fiddle with the colours a bit, but never got around to it until now.  Feedback would be very welcome should you choose to leave it! :)

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-37677735771941771952010-09-19T19:44:00.001-04:002010-09-20T23:53:43.035-04:00

Don't tell me that because of the "Pagan" in "Christo-Pagan" I can't see Jesus as a face of the Divine. Don't tell me that because of the "Christo" in "Christo-Pagan" I'm not really a Pagan. Don't tell me that because of the "Pagan" part of "Christo-Pagan" I can't really be a Christian. Don't tell me that because I am a Christo-Pagan, I'm really just trying to cover my ass in case the "real

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-38329247446247422652010-09-11T11:49:00.002-04:002011-09-11T08:48:43.191-04:00

Nine years ago today, I was an eighteen-year-old student barely into my first year of university.  As I had decided to earn my B.A. at the university in my hometown, I was dropped off at school that morning by my mother; I strolled in with a few books in my shoulder bag, an English Toffee cappuccino (courtesy of that questionably grand Canadian institution, Tim Hortons) in one hand and an orange

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-59639996817263387822010-09-06T13:31:00.001-04:002010-09-06T18:16:04.595-04:00

While she was cleaning out her closet today, my mother found something of mine that I hadn't seen in nearly seventeen years. Perhaps I should go further back.  Sometime when I was in Grade 4 (the 1991-92 school year), one of my classmates brought a box of small silver medallions to school and gave one to everyone in our class; apparently she'd written to the Vatican (or perhaps her parents had

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-25570939743817035032010-08-26T20:06:00.002-04:002010-08-30T10:30:12.673-04:00

This is the post that two days ago I mentioned I might write.  You see, today one of my cats died.  It wasn't totally unexpected; she was about fifteen years old and her health went into a sudden decline early last month.  Though she'd visibly been very strong and healthy before that, she was transformed into a bedraggled shadow of her former self.  She was barely eating, didn't drink a whole lot

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-40059053881465689622010-08-24T21:45:00.000-04:002010-08-24T21:45:29.732-04:00

They say that prostitution is the world's oldest profession. Whether or not that's true, four of its practitioners in my hometown—as well as many of their clients—were arrested last week.  (Somewhat unusually, the johns were held up for as much public disgrace as the prostitutes; their names were published by several news sources.)  There's been a fair amount of pearl-clutching in the media and

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-21506181892007274012010-08-11T23:19:00.005-04:002011-02-14T13:55:26.492-05:00

Remember that little rant I wrote about how for the most part, proselytizers embarrass me? The general idea was that their lack of respect for other people and their right to believe (or not believe) as they choose really gets up my nose. The same goes for atheist proselytizers. I mean, come on. So you don't like religion? Don't practice one. Telling people who are spiritually and/or

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-38340612332983483462010-08-05T04:31:00.005-04:002010-08-05T05:22:17.466-04:00

Lately I've been thinking about some of the things that have set me on the spiritual path I'm now on. The incident I'm about to describe happened when I was eighteen and had considered myself a Pagan for about three and a half years; even so, I sometimes think that it affected my current views on spirituality every bit as much as the realization that I could no longer in good conscience consider

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-40581361736270893662010-08-03T21:27:00.003-04:002010-08-03T21:59:46.460-04:00

I admit that I don't tend to follow current trends in music, pop culture or the like as closely as most people do. It's not that I'm one of those culture-snobs who think that nothing worth seeing/listening to has been invented since 1899; it's just that a lot of my spare time is dedicated to singing various flavours of older music, doing a lot of writing and figuring out how to turn myself into

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-27774833957693969932010-07-27T23:20:00.004-04:002010-07-27T23:35:11.507-04:00

Today, while randomly surfing the Internet Movie Database, I stumbled upon a quote from the first season of the "Flight of the Conchords" TV show, spoken by Jemaine Clement:It doesn't matter what country someone's from, or what they look like, or the color of their skin. It doesn't matter what they smell like, or that they spell words slightly differently...some would say, more correctly...I'm

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-14430211873007305472010-07-20T21:12:00.007-04:002011-02-14T15:13:32.840-05:00

I have a question. Every fundamentalist, everyone who uses the Bible as an excuse to hate, everyone who says that the Christian God hates this or that just because they do, everyone who says that Jesus wants them to do awful things to people who they personally disapprove of, and everyone who believes that because they believe something, everyone else should as well...I want them to answer it

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-19400668313823658852010-07-18T15:13:00.007-04:002010-07-18T17:06:47.885-04:00

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.Edna St. Vincent MillayI think I would not be mistaken in saying that unrequited love is something that most people experience sooner or later. It's certainly been very familiar to me—especially in the past few years, not least because

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-47773535406708004832010-07-08T15:22:00.005-04:002010-07-08T15:39:45.920-04:00

I was tidying up my "Works-In-Progress" folder on my laptop this afternoon when I found a list of extremely sarcastic responses I'd made to a list of general dating rules I read on a website. I hope you find these responses as funny as I sometimes do. :)(My responses are in bolded italic text.)Source: http://www.topdatingtips.com/dating-rules-for-women.htmFound via a comment at http://

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-27495715680243358662010-06-24T08:23:00.001-04:002010-06-24T08:23:00.382-04:00

At times, it's difficult.Because I sing in a church choir, it's rather obvious that there's a strongly Christian influence on my spirituality. It's something that, until I joined that choir, I hadn't acknowledged very often—even to myself—in a very long time. So I felt very relieved when I finally became familiar with the usual Sunday routine; a few weeks after I'd joined my church choir I felt

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-43224775402548738552010-06-23T08:24:00.000-04:002010-06-23T08:24:00.325-04:00

It may not come a surprise when I say that my political views have always been fairly liberal. I admit that at first, it was largely because I was young and naïve and had taken the words "be nice" a little more seriously than most people do, without really thinking about what they really meant. When I got a little older and (I hope) a bit wiser, I retained my liberal outlook—not so much because

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-83014936560788119642010-06-21T15:32:00.010-04:002010-06-23T08:13:35.209-04:00

Dear [Choirmaster],We've known each other for just a little less than thirteen years. While we've never been particularly close, I think you know by now that I usually appreciate your sense of humour, and I'm reasonably sure that whatever your faults are, they probably don't include a tendency to be intentionally cruel to people. This is why—for now, at least—I am trying very, very hard to give

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-13963653486722804322010-06-20T15:40:00.003-04:002010-06-20T16:15:41.989-04:00

"Cautiously optimistic". Those two words pretty much sum up my general outlook these days.For example, my church choir is planning a trip to the UK next August; I'm hoping to be able to go, as it sounds like it's going to be a great two weeks. We're having a meeting about it tonight, in fact, and anyone who wants to go is required to bring a cheque as a deposit on the trip. Once tax receipts

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-58492171988677217252010-06-15T12:20:00.005-04:002010-06-15T14:34:50.625-04:00

A couple of months ago, Renee of Womanist Musings wrote a post in which she talks about the hostility that people often show towards Christianity in liberal-oriented spaces, particularly online. A good many of the comments absolutely infuriated me; it wasn't so much the fact that the issue of Christian privilege was brought up, but the way that so many people decided that it was perfectly OK to

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-48076737455132874732010-06-14T16:25:00.002-04:002010-06-14T16:25:45.160-04:00

If I write a blog that nobody reads, am I still a blogger? ;)

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-43845882920339118002010-06-06T19:57:00.010-04:002010-06-06T21:22:47.573-04:00

I don't read chick lit very often, and I think I just remembered why. Today I've been reading a book that's so bad it's hilarious, but it's also sad in many ways because the main female character adheres to so many ridiculous stereotypes about women—nearly every one that's on the list that follows, actually. Not being the sort to pass up a chance to be sarcastic about something that irritates

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-61525326314307575012010-06-01T21:28:00.011-04:002010-06-15T14:15:11.698-04:00

There are some drawbacks to having an extremely good memory. Learning new things is easy, at least when there's enough interest in them. I remember a lot of happy and amusing things that other people who were there have long since forgotten. But I also have an excellent memory for bad things, as my musings on May 9 probably show. The incident I'm about to describe happened about five years

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-88045969430531349652010-05-24T09:26:00.006-04:002010-05-24T10:16:15.384-04:00

On occasion, I visit a website dedicated to news from my hometown that often includes articles about things happening on a larger scale. Today, they featured a set of videos consisting of statements from the Pope. I was stupid enough to watch them; let me tell you, watching or reading just about anything he says is generally an unhealthy influence on my blood pressure.To be fair, he did make a

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-30675634262804529342010-05-16T14:21:00.005-04:002010-05-16T14:28:22.742-04:00

What I'm about to write now is probably eventually going to give rise to a lengthy, rambling post about nostalgia and the fear of change, but for now, what I'm going to say is not particularly eloquent. Namely:Ugh, special vestry meeting. Ugh, people who hold on to nostalgia and fear, rather than opening their minds to the fact that a decision has to be made, or in ten years or less, our church

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-8349797101344528912010-05-15T09:27:00.006-04:002010-05-16T14:34:21.896-04:00

I had an interesting personal revelation last night.For the past several months, I've been deeply afraid that I was developing inappropriate feelings for a married friend. The idea perplexed me, because I actually don't feel drawn to him as anything but a friend; anything non-platonic would, quite frankly, seem incestuous even if it wouldn't be completely against my sense of ethics, and it most

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-62878396587483288992010-05-11T08:29:00.001-04:002010-05-11T08:39:08.948-04:00

Right now, I'm listening to a recording of Rachmaninoff's second symphony. This symphony is a piece I wasn't well acquainted with until fairly recently; I'd heard bits and pieces of it over the years, but I'd never heard it in its entirety until late last month, when I was lucky enough to have a ticket to hear it performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. (As I mentioned in a previous entry,

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-39017352400764186932010-05-09T19:13:00.003-04:002010-05-10T23:39:19.747-04:00

Nine years ago today, something happened that hurt me terribly; I felt the sting of it for years afterward, even after I'd long since lost contact with everyone else involved. Even now, when what happened no longer actually has the power to hurt me, I can't help but think of the time I wasted in moping over it and wishing that the people who had hurt me had suffered for what they did. I won't

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-31490568224007889252010-05-08T01:35:00.004-04:002010-05-24T10:30:07.685-04:00

Neil Young isn't really one of my favourite musicians, but I love this song (skip ahead to about 5:27). All of its questions, in one way or another, hint at something very close to my view of religion and spirituality—and a few other things, come to that. You see, as heretical as it may be, my beliefs go so much further than the words of the Apostles' Creed or even the slightly more-detailed

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-49913081041027045982010-04-29T04:58:00.010-04:002010-05-15T14:59:43.564-04:00

...namely, another white woman's views on racism. I realize that my life is full of white privilege, regardless of how many aspects of it are negated by other circumstances of my life, and that a white person's views of racism are nowhere near as valid as those of a person of colour. But part of the reason I started this blog was to work through ideas that I'm struggling with, and though I know

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-19529629348607974812010-03-29T17:51:00.004-04:002010-03-29T18:43:13.097-04:00

The older I get, the more I become convinced that the way that those of us who have religious or spiritual beliefs label ourselves and define our beliefs doesn't matter to the Divine as much as it matters to us. I've had many intense spiritual experiences over the years, starting in my time as a Catholic, continuing in my years as a Solitary Kinda-Wiccan Pagan and in the years since I realized

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-22832099626888875122010-03-25T11:58:00.008-04:002010-03-26T10:34:04.599-04:00

My body is not a disease. You can't catch "fat" by being in my immediate vicinity.My body is not a moral battle. I am not evil because I am fat. Neither can I be made a saint by becoming thin.My body is not an indication of laziness or stupidity. I work hard when I've got work to do, and although I'm no Einstein, my intelligence is at an average—or perhaps slightly above average—level. My

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-14400551471458583242010-03-18T13:31:00.003-04:002010-05-07T23:59:22.995-04:00

Anti-abortion extremists go to Hell...and once again, a religion that's supposed to be devoted to a God of Love is used as an excuse for anger and hate.Stop it. Just stop it. If you claim that you want to follow the path laid out by Jesus, don't harrass people going into places where abortions are performed. Don't murder the doctors who perform the abortions. Don't create "WANTED" posters

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-90344706555516697992010-02-28T07:34:00.006-05:002010-02-28T17:04:06.808-05:00

My father has been a smoker for longer than I've been alive. He used to smoke around me when I was a child; it was usually in the car, and he claimed that because he did it with an open window, it couldn't really be hurting me or my brother. And though he couldn't smoke inside the house (Mom insisted), he always smoked right outside the back door, which was the only door we could actually use

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-45618817630486682232010-02-27T09:45:00.001-05:002010-02-27T09:45:00.621-05:00

I think I've mentioned my personal experiences with depression a few times in the past. However, I suspect that for the purposes of this post, I'll have to give a bit more background information for what I'm about to say to make any real sense.So. I started having unexplained fits of moodiness that were unusual even for a teenager when I was thirteen years old; I called them a "soulless calm",

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-15573830132712939472010-02-26T11:14:00.006-05:002010-05-11T08:28:14.713-04:00

In my bookmarks menu, I have a category called "You Are A Privileged Asshole (And Don't You Forget It)". It's where I keep bookmarks to pages like Derailing For Dummies and various blog posts and "checklists" relating to various types of privilege. Call it an example of my somewhat bizarre sense of humour; it's intended to make me chuckle and remind me of something at the same time—while its

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-42737422316478535452010-02-25T08:30:00.000-05:002010-02-25T08:30:33.366-05:00

Or, "Help! Help! I'm Being Repressed!"In his Annotations to Reynolds' Discourses, William Blake contemptuously wrote that "to generalize is to be an idiot". Nonetheless, I'm going to embrace this idiocy for a moment and hazard a guess that most people who are, or have considered becoming, Pagans of one kind or another have come across the idea of the "Pagan persecution complex". You know, the

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-59968866725416650392010-01-28T06:30:00.002-05:002010-03-26T10:17:28.472-04:00

It annoys me (and, to a degree, even offends me) when people throw the word "Nazi" around. You know, like calling somebody who likes good spelling and grammar a spelling or grammar Nazi, calling a feminist a Feminazi or even that time in The X-Files when Morris-Fletcher-As-Mulder asks Scully to buy him a pack of cigarettes and, when she can't believe he's asking her to do that because Mulder

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145133523468768446.post-57182905143941704912010-01-22T09:06:00.000-05:002010-01-22T10:52:53.871-05:00

Today is the 5th annual "Blog for Choice" day. Although I'm not officially involved—after all, abortion is legal where I live, and access to it is not generally impeded by financial considerations—I thought I'd offer my thoughts about why I'm pro-choice.Because you know what? I am pro-choice, though not explicitly pro-abortion. I'm pro-choice because I believe that nobody has a right to define

Zillahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00818031446903225167noreply@blogger.com1