Sick

Well I'm home sick and feeling guilty. June has been a crappy month healthwise. I had the incident of the 1/2 cooked bacon, then the leg and now a cold. I'm sluggish and eh. So I decided I'll try cracking open a bible whilst waiting for the Nyquil to knock me out. Starting with Matt and reading who was the father of who till you get to Joseph, I'm wondering why is this important? If Jesus is the son of the Great Divine then he's not related to Jospeh so what is the point of the geneology? I put the book down and decided time would be better spent hunting down tissues.

Gay Lawyer church

Well another even numbered Sunday, it's the Church of the Gay Lawyer. Which seemed a little less gay yesterday. I didn't see the pew of 4-6 men who usually sit in the same pew, coupled up. I also didn't see the super butch acolyte either. I didn't even see the gay lawyer, for whom I named the church after. If this keeps up I'm going to have to rename it the church of the Super Catholics who aren't Roman.

Wardrobe mishap

So it seemed like a good idea. Bike to church in t-shirt and shorts, change in bathroom in dress. I had worn the dress before and it can be casual or fancy depending on pearls. Well I biked to church, had about 10 minutes to get ready and changed. First the bra kept peaking out. So I ditched the bra. Mistake. Although the dress has an internal bra it still didn't give a lot of support. Then I go to put on pearls. Clasp broke.
Looking at myself in the tiny bathroom mirror I notice I have cleavage. Ack! Cleavage doesn't belong in church! I have nothing to cover the cleavage and the top can't go up without losing the minimal breast support. I resolve to sit in the back. I kept adjusting the dress through the whole service. I debated should I go up to the alter to take the body and the blood. I hoped I'd get the side with the female priest. Generally I can give or take female priests, but yesterday I really wanted a female priest so that the male priest wouldn't see how low cut the dress was. My luck only 1 priest that Sunday, and he was a he. I never looked up during the communion. I guess he does these things so quickly (bodyochrys, bodyochrys, bodyochrys, bodyochrys) that he wouldn't notice, we I hope he didn't. After communion I left. Changed back into shorts, discovered the scruffy old guy at the church might be homeless when he asked for spare change, ate something from coffee hour and left.

Clarity

Well at brunch we decided that after a few months we were in fact dating. Then as we talked about our relationship a few hours later we decided we were not dating. I am thankful that we cleared all that up, because I was seriously confused.
Part of me is trying to be thankful that I am no longer dating a short facial ticky church junkie with an Orthodox bent and bad breath. The other part is just dealing with the loss of the whole "what could have been" that one gets into when one starts dating.
There was a logic to our pairing. He has a PhD, in a subject I like. We share similar political and religious beliefs. He laughs at my jokes. We're both earth signs, not that I really give astrology much weight. But logically we make a good pair. Sadly, there wasn't that element that makes the difference between friendship and dating.
Oh, well, back to the drawing board.