July 2007 Archives

Yesterday, I repeated the seven mile walk along the Erie Canal Trail that I made back in June. And as the title of this post suggests, the second trip was even better than the first. For starters, I made a point of wearing sunscreen this time. I almost decided against it, since it was supposed to be cloudy and rainy. But at the last minute, I grabbed the bottle and started slathering. I was quite glad of it, too. As soon as I started walking, the clouds parted and I found myself making the trek on a glorious and sunny day.

The other factor that improved this walk over the previous one is that I made a point of buying new shoes. It's hard to believe what a difference such a detail would make. However, I was a true believer last night when I realized that while my feet were somewhat sore, they felt about the same as they had felt after several days of healing the last time.

This isn't to say this trip wasn't frought with it's own difficulties, mind you. The whole plan was nearly upset when I arrived at my planned starting point, only to discover that the park was completely closed off due to some sort of tournament. This meant that I had to find a new place to leave my car that would be near an access point to the trail.

Fortunately, after several minutes of driving around while muttering and cussing under my breath (not to mention considering calling the whole thing off ever twenty seconds or so), I decided to settle on one of the parking lots at the University of Rochester. I was a little nervous as all of the UofR lots are clearly marked "permit only" (and I managed to find and choose the faculty lot no less). However, as I considered the facts that (1) it's the summer, (2) it was a Saturday, and (3) the lot was practically empty anyway, it would be safe. (And if push comes to shove, I'd simply have to pay towing expenses and whatnot anyway.) Fortunately, my reasoning proved fine and my car was still there -- without so much as a fine on it -- when Belinda dropped me off to pick it up around 2:30pm.

I'm disappointed that I yet again chose not to take my camera with me. In June, I made the decision based on the fact that I wanted to just enjoy the walk and not worry about picture taking. This time, the weather report had disuaded me. I reasoned that if it really was going to rain, I'd rather leave the camera someplace dry. I don't mind if I get wet (after all, Fran Baum made that whole business about witches melting out of whole cloth), but I was a bit concerned what a hypothetical downpour could do to a camera, even if it was protected by its case and my backpack.

I'm currently a bit distraught because I've realized that making this journey next month might prove to be a bit of a challenge. The first two weekends are already booked with preparing for and attending the 2007 Northeast Naturist Festival. The Saturday after that, I have a party to attend. The final Saturday, there's a chance I may have to help out at the shop. So unless I schedule the walk for the third or fourth Sunday rather than on a Saturday, I may just be out of luck. Hopefully, I'll figure something out, though.

While checking out The Wild Hunt today, I ran across Jason's post where he talks about an attempt to get a fortune telling law overturned in Casper, Wyoming.

Let me first state that I wish Ms. Forest the best of luck. I am a strong believer that such laws should be removed. Having had readings from a handful of professional tarot readers, I believe that they offer an excellent service. And while I might understand the city's desire to prevent potential con artists from defrauding people through tarot readings and other psychic readings, I do not think that such a blanket prohibitiion is the way to go about it. (Truth be told, it's my experience that the psychic community does a fairly good job of policing itself.) I also think that such a blanket prohibition singles out Pagans and is unethical until governments also look to address the practice of prophecies and words of knowledge that goes on in many charismatic and Pentecostal churches, churches which often turn around and ask for donations. (I even attended one such church that brought in a "professional prophet" for one service and took a special offering that went to said prophet for her ministry.)

That being said, I do find myself bothered by one part of Ms. Forest's argument. I'm not at all comfortable with the following statement:

It keeps her from charging for tarot card readings, a key aspect of Wiccan religion, she said.

While I certainly think that tarot readings are a handy tool for Witches and Pagans alike, I am not at all comfortable the suggestion that it qualifies as a "key aspect" of our practice. And I certainly would not consider the kind of readings professional readers offer client for monetary compensation specifically essential. (After all, there is a difference between what is essential or key and even that which is highly beneficial.) To present these readings as so key suggests to me that Ms. Forest and I practice rather different religions. (Of course, this is not entirely surprising, as I don't consider myself Wiccan.)

Of course, it is entirely possible that Ms. Forest is making this claim simply for the sake of political expediency. And I can certainly see the appeal in such an approach. After all, a claim of religious freedom is probably the best argument against this law. But again, I'm not sure that claiming it as a key practice is entirely necessary to make that argument.

Of course, ultimately, I don't know whether Ms. Forest made her claim out of sincere belief or in the name of political expediency. I cannot and will not judge her motives. But in either case, the idea just leaves me somewhat uncomfortable, despite the fact that I agree with her goal to get this law removed.

Matt Hill posted the following clip from Loggerheads on his blog. I had to share it here.

The horror!

Of course, what I think is particularly funny is how the husband makes the comment about another neighbor only being "half mad" since only one of the new neighbors is Mexican. It demonstrates how we can easily make fun of another person's prejudice while being completely oblivious to our own.

Last night, I ate with the Cheap Dinner Group again. To be honest, I think I've gone every week for about a month now. I think it'll be difficult to drop down to only attending every other Monday night once my father starts staying at my place on Monday nights regularly again. It's just nice to get out and chat with people that night.

At the end of dinner, just before we left, I got a massive cramp in my left thigh. I wasn't ready to go yet, so I had fun trying to manage to get the muscles to relax while still sitting there. At one point, I had to stand up briefly. I'm not sure what brought the whole incident on, but I managed to survive it without too much difficulty.

After the dinner, I went for my walk. I walked West on Park Avenue until I reached Alexandar, which I then took to East. From there, I headed back to Berkeley, crossed back to Park from there, and continued back along Park until I got back to my car. The whole trip took me just under 45 minutes, which made it a pretty good walk. It was actually quite pleasant, though I was somewhat disappointed that I didn't get hit on this time. Oh sure, last week was just a fluke and I shouldn't realistically expect it to happen all the time anyway. But it still would've been nice to get another little ego boost out of the whole thing.

During my walk, I came to my conclusion about iPods. One of the things I noticed is that the vast majority of the other people walking, running, or riding bike along my route had an iPod in them. So as a result, they were lost in their own world of music and endorphins. And while I can certainly see how that might make the process of exercising more enjoyable in some ways (and certainly helps with focus), it also has a negative impact on my other reason for walking.

At the risk of showing just how old fashioned I am, I tend to still see going for a walk through town as a social act. The whole idea brings up rustic images of Main Street in a small town right around sunset. People are all walking along, greeting each other as they pass.

"Hello there, Joe!"

"Hey Sam! How are the kids?"

"Pretty good. Eugene called the other night. Susan had the baby two nights ago. A little girl."

I'll be the first to admit that a small city like Rochester probably isn't going to support that kind of neighborly intimacy. Like I said, I'll be the first to admit I'm old fashioned (and something of a country bumpkin in some ways). However, you'd think there'd still be room for simple pleasantries.

Wearing an iPod enables a person to isolate themselves from that kind of interaction. "Being off in their own world" becomes pretty literal after a while. And I find that a shame.

Of course, it wouldn't be so bad if this isolation was just limited to wearing an iPod while exercising. We seem to be pretty insular on many levels and in many areas of our lives. So to me, the problem wasn't so much that everyone wears iPods while out getting their exercise as that this fact is representative of what seems to me to be a greater problem.

First of all, let me confess that I was bad and skipped church yesterday morning. I woke up in time for it, looked at the clock, realized my tummy was still bothering me, and rolled back over to catch another couple hours of sleep. Of course, the church I've been attended is Rochester First Unitarian, which many people wouldn't consider a "real church" anyway, so I figure I'm no worse off anyway. *g*

When I finally did roll myself out of bed, I did a few odds and ends and took my shower. Then I spent some time deciding whether or not to go to the Pride Picnic. I finally decided to go, so I put on my sunscreen, packed a small bag, and headed for the park where it was being held.

I figured parking might be problematic, so I decided to park on the opposite side of the Erie Canal from the picnic and walk in from there. After that, I found the tent where I could buy a ticket (which could've been marked a bit more clearly, in my opinion), then joined the line at the official entrance into the reserved area.

I had a fantastic time. I checked out the music over by the Roundhouse, but decided not to do any dancing. For starters, there were very few other people dancing. I'm not sure if that was because of how hot it was (and in the low seventies, it certainly could've been worse) or if everyone was just as self-conscious as I would've been. I did hang out there for a bit though, and my body even got into the rhythm.

I checked out the various organizations and vendors that were there. Suprisingly, I didn't pick up any pride paraphernalia. To be honest, there were only two vendors that I noticed. One was Outlandish, where I can go any time. And I didn't even catch a name on the other tent. That vendor had mostly hats with some shirts and jewelry. Nothing just spoke to me.

Speaking of paraphernalia, I got several chuckles out of the shirt I chose to wore for the day. I decided to wear my black tee shirt from Sikworld which says, "I may have a bad mouth, but I can do great things for it." Several people read it and started laughing. One person even commented, "I'm sure!" Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your persepctive), no one demanded proof of the claim.

One of the booths I checked out was looking for volunteers for upcoming HIV vaccine trials taking place at University of Rochester. The guy was giving information about the process and otherwise fielding questions. I thought about signing up, but eventually decided against it. Actually, I asked if being diabetic would impact my chances of being selected. The guy admitted that as a rule, they're ruling out any candidates with diabetes and a number of other health conditions due to concerns for said individual's health and safety. (Personally, I find it a bit odd as according to the information, the vaccinations they're testing are based on synthetic virus strains and actual infection through the program is impossible. But oh well.) I did get a small glow-in-the-dark frisbee though.

I eventually made my way to the volleyball nets. I decided to lay out my blanket several feet from the nets so that I could sunbathe and watch the more athletic types play. It was fun to watch in between moments where I closed my eyes. I don't think I ever fell asleep, but it was just pleasant to lay there soaking up the sun. And Only came close to being squashed by a (rather good looking) frisbee player a couple of times.

While there, I ran into a couple of the guys I've met at Game Night. Paul was one of the people playing volleyball. He was playing in black pants of all things! I thought he was nuts. (Though I have to admit, he looked pretty good in the outfit.) I also ran across Woody, who promised he really would be at Game Night at the end of this month. (He's missed the last three due to being crazy busy.) I gave him a bit of a hard time about that, but it was all in fun.

Eventually, I decided it was time to head home. I had gotten enough sun and eye candy for the day. Plus I was getting hungry and the picnic food didn't sound all that appealing to me.

Tonight, I'm going out with the Monday Cheap Night Dinner Group again. After that, I figure I'll take another walk around Park and East Avenue. I'm even planning on wearing my sandals again! *beg*

I had a rather busy and active weekend. Saturday morning, I got a call from my mother at 8:30. My parents were on their way to the Rochester area. They had my brother's daughters with them, and they were all coming up to spend part of the day at Seneca Park Zoo. So I got up, showered, shaved, and grabbed a quick breakfast before they got to my apartment. Once they arrived, I jumped in the van, and we were off.

I haven't seen Terry's girls for at least seven years, when they made their last trip out to visit my parents. Since that time, Christine and Val have both graduated from high school and grown into a couple of great young women. It was nice to be able to spend some time with them.

We had a great day at the zoo, too. Due to the relatively low temperatures of the day, many of the animals were out and about. We even managed to get there while the one zoo keeper was putting the arctic wolves' food in their exhibit. So we waited until she was done and were rewarded with watching the wolves search around the exhibit for their food.

Val and Christine were both impressed with the tiger triplets, which are now just over two years old. They were quite shocked when they learned this as I pointed out that the cubs (already considerable in size) get bigger. I made a point of taking them over to the Sasha's cage so they could meet the triplets' father. Needless to say, while they were already impressed with the size of the young tigers, seeing how much bigger a full-grown adult can be was quite an eye-opener for them.

I think everyone's favorite exhibit on Saturday was the polar bear exhibit. The big white furballs were quite active. They had pulled their blue plastic barrels into the water and were playing with them there. At one point, the one bear was hanging onto his barrel with all four paws, floating underneath it. I'm hoping my father got a picture so that I can post it later. Sadly, I ran out of the house without my own camera.

On a sad note, I was quite disappointed to hear that Ariel, one of the zoo's sea lions, died sometime this past winter. I originally saw Ariel and Flounder (who is still at the zoo) doing tricks last summer. We attended the same show (which has been renamed a "feeding") Saturday, where we met the exhibit's new addition, the year old Puff. The zoo is working on training Puff to do some of the tricks Ariel used to do (Flounder simply has never show interest in doing so), and I look forward to seeing what he learns in the future.

After we left the zoo, we headed over to Pittsford to try and find the new Cheesecake Factory store that's opening soon. Val works as a trainer for the chain and thought one of her coworkers might be there training people for the store opening, so she wanted to stop in and say hi. Unfortunately, said coworker wasn't there, but Val got to see the new store anyway. Apparently, she has a goal to see all of the stores the chain has.

After that, I had my parents drop me off at Psychic's Thyme so I could hang out with Michele, Belinda, and Char, who were all working. We had a pretty good time, though it was a slow business day. Afterwards, Belinda, Michele and I went out for dinner (where I was rewarded with the perfect view of one of the waiter's butts as he cleaned off the table next to us) and followed up with ice cream.

Originally, I had planned on going to the Pride Festival over at Village Gate. But by the time we were done with ice cream, I decided that I was tired from a long day and decided to go home.

On Sunday, I went to the Pride Picnic, which I will talk about in a future post.

Last week, I attended the First Unitarian Church of Rochester for the first time. This week, I decided to make my second visit there, despite arriving home late from a party and getting to bed at 3am. Somehow, I managed to get up in plenty of time to get a shower, get dressed, and arrive more than fifteen minutes before the start of the service. It was well worth it.

Today's sermon was on improvisation. Pastor Jen opened her sermon by pointing out that she would not be improvising her sermon, as she was not very good at that. So instead, she offered an excellent prepared sermon about improvising life. In it, she discussed how the principles of improvisational theater could be applied to a spiritual life.

I think that the principle or rule that resonated with me most was "start anywhere." I think this is because I've often found that starting something is always one of the hardest parts of any endeavor. (In fact, it was the subject of my first blog post here. This principle reminds us that the first step simply needs to be made.

Of course, the other rule or principle that resonated with me was "don't worry about making mistakes." I think the two are related. I think the fear of making a mistake is what makes the first step in any venture so hard. So we allow that fear to stop us. These rules together remind us that making the first step at all is more important than making it the "right" one.

I'm reminded of another comment I've heard, though I don't remember the source. At one point, I remember someone saying that a change in direction is easier to make than a change in inertia. So by this theory, getting the ball rolling is important even if it starts rolling in the wrong direction. After all, you can use the new momentum to help effect the course correction over time.

Like I said, the sermon was fascinating.

After the service, Rick and I hung out for a while. He wanted to learn a bit more about what I believed and what I mean when I say that I'm a witch. The conversation lasted for about an hour. I'm not sure how much I really told him, as the conversation actually meandered across a wide range of topics. But hopefully, it was a start to satisfying his curiosity. If nothing else, he's gotten a better glimpse into my mind in general. Hopefully, he didn't find it too frightening. *g*

Friday I mentioned that Michele and I were going to another party held by the members of the WNY Paranormal Society. The party has come and gone, and once again we had a blast.

This particular party was to celebrate the birthday of one of the group's members, Stacie. Michele and I eventually arrived at the party, but only after searching for the host's house for over forty five minutes. We learned a valuable lesson: No matter how sure you are that you can find the place because you've been there before, it's always smart to at least take the hosts' phone number with you. But we eventually arrived you and were greeted warmly (that may be the understatement of the decades).

The party had a lot of color and light in the decor. Each of us were given plastic, glow-in-the-ark necklaces and bracelets. Sarah had even found glasses (and shot glasses no less) with LED's embedded in the bottom. The LED's woud blink in a pattern, lighting up any drink put into them. The topper for the cake -- which was also a rather interesting shape -- was also clear and lit up with different colors. (And I won't even go into detail about how various guests demonstrated certain talents with the topper.)

The night was filled with good drinks, great food, and tasty Jello shots (I even had a few). During all of this, we had some great conversations and simply enjoyed ourselves. The only thing we did not partake in was the skinny dipping -- not that David didn't make a valient attempt to talk me into it.

Hopefully, we'll get together again before the summer is out.

Matt over at InterstateQ has an update on the recent doings of Michael Glatze, former editor of Young Gay America and now happy ex-gay. Apparently, he's been sending an email to various gay bloggers, the full test of which can be found courtesy of Good as You. (Other bloggers, like Brady, have received the same message as a comment on their blogs. Being the curious sort, I decided to read this mass mailing. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Part of me wants to laugh because of how ridiculous the whole thing is. However, the part of me who realizes that Mr. Glatze likely believes the things he's saying wants to cry. At any rate, I had to comment on a few comments in this "email."

Think about that; you could – really – be a man or a woman! Not a strange creature… but, real!

Apparently, Mr. Glatze has confused sexual orientation with Gender Identity Disorder. The fact that I am romantically and sexually attracted to other men does not negate the fact that I am a man myself one iota. If Mr. Glatze felt that his homosexuality made him "less of a man," then that is unfortunate and something he should have sought to rectify. But I find his desire to project his lacking sense of masculinity on me or the rest of the gay community at large.

Gay Identity has been packaged and fed to you...

Actually, gay identity is something that I came to understand myself. In reality, I grew up knowing nothing about gay identity. In fact, I didn't know there was such a thing as same sex sexual activity until seventh grade. (And believe me, it wasn't presented to me in a positive light by any stretch of the imagination.) No, the idea of sexual orientation as an integral part of identity was something I didn't learn about until well into adulthood, after many years of trying to change or ignore my feelings and desires.

...those angry voices in your mind, planted there by Satan, might scream and judge and ridicule...

This may be one of the most bizarre statements I have heard in a long time. To suggest that there are voices in another person's head -- angry or otherwise -- seems absolutely strange. I find myself wondering if Mr. Glatze makes this suggestion because he has angry voices inside his head. After all, it is common for us to assume that everyone thinks and feels exactly like us. If that is the case, then Mr. Glatze has my deepest sympathy. Because if he's been dealing with angry voices in his head, he has much bigger issues to face than the question of his sexual orientation. I merely hope he gets any hope he might need.

I know, in my heart, that all homosexuals desire to be free.

The thing that Mr. Glatze fails to understand is that many of us are free. The problem is, he chooses to see a non-heterosexual orientation as something that holds us in bondage. He is welcome to that opinion. But to assume that we share that basic viewpoint with him on any level and therefore desire the "freedom" he's offering is both foolish and rude.

This man's letter demonstrates everything that is wrong with the ex-gay movement.

I had a pretty good Independence Day. I went to Michele and Belinda's house for a picnic. We actually ate indoors due to the bad weather. However, Michele and Amy took turns braving the elements to grill the food outdoors. I did my part by holding the oversized umbrella over them to keep them from getting too wet.

I even got another ego boost, though it wasn't intentional. As I was getting ready to leave around 6pm (I was tired for some reason) I mentioned in passing that I was enjoying the fact that I've recently discovered there were a couple of people who thought I was in my twenties. Amy turned around with a shocked look on her face and said, "You mean you're not?" I laughed and pointed out to her that I just turned 33 last month. She couldn't believe it. Needless to say, I thanked her and had a huge smile on my face the rest of the day.

This Saturday, Michele and I are headed for a birthday party for one of the members of the Western New York Paranormal Society. Apparently, they enjoyed our company so much at their Christmas party that they decided to join us again. Dwayne even mentioned in the email to Michele that he loved my blog entry about the Christmas party. (I had to go back and read what I wrote.)

I'm also debating on whether I'm going to ImageOut's Beach Party Tea Dance on Sunday. It sounds like it could be fun. But I'm finding myself wondering if it's something I'll enjoy going to alone. And yet, I keep telling myself I have to put myself in places to meet people and make friends, right? We'll see.

Today, she majorly fisked Chuck Colson's commentary on hiring Pagan chaplains in the military.

I don't have much to add on the topic, other than to say that one of the nice benefits of moving out of my parents home was no longer hearing Colson's radio show on a regular basis.

It's nine o'clock and I'm still home in my jammies. I'm waiting for the dryer to get done so I can grab a pair of shorts and head out the door to work. It's probably looking like I won't get in until ten at the earliest. I'm feeling rather dumb about it.

Last night, after getting home from the Cheap Monday Night Dinner Group, I gathered up a load of dirty clothes and threw them into the washer. After the washer was done, I even made a point of running downstairs and tossing the wet clothes into the dryer. (Of course, this was after reminding Precious that the dryer wasn't a kitty hiding spot and got her out of there.) Then I went back upstairs and went to bed. The truly observant (and those who just know me so well) might note that I didn't say anything about starting the dryer. That's because I didn't. So when I got up this morning and went downstairs to get the rest of the clothes I needed to go to work, I discovered everything was still wet. So I have about an hour to ninety minutes of down time while I wait for today's outfit to finish drying.

I decided to get up this morning and attend the 10am service at the First Unitarian Church of Rochester NY. I had heard of it back when I first came to the Rochester area and had even learned approximately where it was. However, I had originally decided not to check it out.

That was largely due to my experiences at the UUA church back in Big Flats. Those experiences weren't negative in any sense. The people were friendly enough, as was the pastor. I got no sense that the leadership was abusive (spiritually or otherwise). In fact, I would be hard pressed to say anything disparaging about the church there. I'd even encourage those who are interested in that church to check it out for themselves.

So why did I quit going? It simply wasn't right for me. I have an idea of the kind of spirituality I'm looking for, and I didn't find it there. Instead, I found a number of services that included what were (in my opinion, at least) exercises in hyper-intellectualism. As I was looking for something more down-to-earth and applicable to real life, I just decided the services weren't for me.

In many ways, that was too bad. I actually liked the people there and would have considered socializing with them and building friendships. (Indeed, had I attended that church now, I might be willing to give it more time than I did back then for that very reason.) But spirituality-wise, I didn't find a good fit. And since that's what I was looking for at the time, I moved on.

To be honest (and I hope Tracie and any other UU readers won't hold this against me), that's generally been my impression of the UUA in general. UU's are great people, and I'd gladly have lengthy conversations with them, go on picnics with them, and generally just hang out. But as a rule, I just think that the UU is too loose and unfocused for the kind of worship I appreciate and look for.

However, when I was once again reminded of First Unitarian here in Rochester last week, I decided I might as well give it another try. After all, this is a different church. And I have grown as a person. So I convinced myself to set aside my skepticism and prejudices and have a go. I'm glad I did.

Let me just say that this morning's sermon did not suffer from the hyper-intellectualism I had experienced in Big Flats. In fact, I found this morning's sermon, which focused on "The path of non-effort" and learning to be the one being helped rather than the one helping to be entirely applicable to my life. Indeed, it fit well into many of the lessons I'm going through on my own right now.

The rest of the service was quite nice as well. It had a time for prayer and meditation, some group hymns, and some readings from various sources. I also liked how everyone was encouraged to stay after the service for coffee to talk and learn about the various programs the church is offering.

I suspect I'll go back again soon, possibly as early as next week. In fact, if today's service is representative, I could find myself becoming a regular attender. Mind you, I don't think I will ever make Unitarian Universalism my primary spiritual identity. Nor do I think it will become my primary form of worship. I prefer too much focus and tradition for that. Besides, I'm a witch through and through. But I could certainly see myself as going to First Unitarian as a secondary form of corporate worship. It would give me a chance to be around other open-minded people too, which is always a plus.