Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Retweet THIS

Dear Twitter,

I am the person tweeting anonymously as @OrthodoxRequest. Over a week ago, I tweeted this:

Harmless, right? Oh no. 
Suddenly, I'm caught up in the middle of a debate on where icons belong in the house. Should they not be in the bedroom because we have sex there? Should they not be in the bathroom because apparently we do worse things than sex there? You've been debating this all day! Good gravy!

I'm an Orthodox idiot and I know it, but I learned one thing early: Icons are windows into heaven, but this does not work in reverse. Saints aren't staring at everything you do through your icons. The saints don't care if you have sex (God made that) or if you're pooping (God made that, too). Either stop this stupid, idolatrous nonsense; or delete my handle from your debate. You're pissing me off, and I have better things to do.

I just want to post prayer requests and pictures or music that makes me smile, so leave me out of this garbage. Your salvation does not depend on where your icons are in your house. I hate how nitpicky Orthodox Christians can be--sometimes it feels like enough to drive me away from the Church. Read Matthew 25 and focus on what you should really be doing with your time.

Jiminy Christmas.


Thursday, October 23, 2014

What's New?

I don't have celiac disease. (Yay, bread!)

I am actively fighting an infection. (That might explain being down-and-out.)

And I did a terrible thing:

That's a Stephen Hawking phone case, btw. 
I'm looking forward to when my hair lays down and remotely resembles a hairstyle instead of an abomination, but in the meantime I enjoy looking ... weird. And rather eighties. And kinda punk rock at the same time. 

I think I'll dye it green. 

(Just kidding, Mom.)

Monday, October 20, 2014

Knitting Marathon = Over

... for now. I'm taking the rest of the month off (maybe I'll wind some hanks into balls), then it's back to the grindstone for me. Did I use that metaphor right? I don't know. I've been out of college too long.

About twenty hats (I didn't take an official count before taping up the box), two scarves (one of which had something go disastrously wrong, resulting in my using my mad hand sewing skills), and four 6-packs of Wigwam tube socks (like I can knit socks or something) are going to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, to the St. Vincent de Paul ... home? Anyway, although I'm not Catholic, I have a soft spot for Vincent de Paul, so I chose it after my original choice bottomed out due to embezzlement (sad). There were several things, however, I didn't realize:

  • St. Vincent de Paul in Coeur d'Alene is a massive network of social services, not just a pair of homeless shelters. 
  • Coeur d'Alene is the second largest metropolitan area in Idaho. 
So much for rural. It's a resort town in the panhandle of Idaho, but, as one might expect, it gets miserably cold in winter. Today the high will be 70 though. I wish it were 70 here. I was under the mistaken impression that I was going to be a massive blessing to some rural community. The truth took the wind out of my sails, but I think that's a good thing. I need the wind taken out of my sails basically all the time. Praise God. 

Anyway, enough of what a galoot I am. Everything's packed up--all I need to do is write down the address and get Chris to ferry it to the post office. Lord, bless--and may all these items be of service to someone. 

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Let's Fix Homelessness ...

... by simply moving the homeless to a different location. Check this out from Twitter:

The homeless have a soft spot in my heart. That said, I wouldn't go so far as the Austinite (Austonian?) who I overheard at an art show by homeless artists who said, "I love the homeless! They're so authentic!" (I drain of life just thinking about that.) But that's why I get pissed when more anti-homeless architecture like this pops up. Look at this article about anti-homeless bench design. My "favorite" is the Montreal one: Too low for anyone to sleep under, too weird and far apart for anyone to sleep on. [Tears hair out.] It's hard not to want to engage in a little civil disobedience and take the largest hammer I can find to these stupid things. 

"But, Chandler," the gentle reader protests, "shouldn't we be working on finding homes for the homeless?" Yes, of course. It needs to be a two-pronged approach at this point though: 1) affordable housing and 2) helping those who don't have access to said affordable housing yet. Time to get practical (yay!). I spend my year knitting hats and scarves for the homeless. Since my locale is not unbearably cold in the winter, I send them elsewhere: This year, they go to Idaho. It's about all I can do with the various illnesses plaguing me that I mentioned in the last post. Well, those and the anxiety disorder. Thanks to Pinterest, I come prepared with all kinds of ideas and information about homelessness. And if you want actual housing, cozy up with the 100,000 Homes campaign. 

Why do I care about the homeless? His name was Father Jim Fallis, the priest where I grew up as an Episcopalian. Downtown Columbia, MO, has a large homeless population (and, of course, the requisite number of business owners who want them moved elsewhere because they're bad for business), and Jim knew every one of them. Once upon a time, though he was retired, he and another priest were filling in while there was some upheaval in our clergy (nothing bad--just the usual mess that comes with new clergy moving in). My dad and I had breakfast with him and then walked to church. There was a homeless man on the sidewalk. While I averted my eyes, Jim went out of his way to say hello to him. The resulting awful feeling in my gut was the beginning of change for me. Now there are hats and scarves and winter blankets and conversations (although, to be honest, anxiety means Chris does most of the talking). There should be at least smiles and waves. Jim died four days before I got married--may his memory be eternal. And may he be an example for us all. 

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Me vs Me

I'm being tested for celiac disease as well as hypothyroidism and stuff that could be related to my polycystic ovary syndrome. I am a walking genetic disorder.

Funny how we get sick. Funnier still is how our bodies can betray us with autoimmune disorders like celiac--I can't eat wheat because my body will attack the gluten and shoot everything to hell. And I mean everything: There have been days when even lying down didn't feel like enough. Then again, there are days like today where I feel pretty perky, but a long time without exercise has made me weak. Can't do anything. Now I just sit around and drink peppermint tea with a little dollop of honey and dream about getting out of the house.

Whine, whine, whine. I've got a lot of crap on my plate. I have friends, though, who have it worse and are either learning to deal with or have dealt with the mess. If I test positive, I'll be the fourth person at our little church to be a celiac sufferer. That's crazy ... it's also way more than the 1% the experts say have the disease.

I ate my first gluten-free meal after the test (you have to be eating gluten before the blood test or it'll mess up the results), and I'm eager to recover my health and return to church. But now, some kind of lunch.