My hero is the Dalai Lama.

Registration

That's right, it's registration time for next fall. Sigh. registration always gets me so depressed. I get to be isolated from my almost-friends and I have to meet all new people, and that never goes well.

I am so damn lonely.

Fuck.

As I Went Down in the River to Pray

Alright, it is time for another of my introspective ramblings! Y'all excited?
This time, the subject is religion. Especially religious conversion and missionary work.

My question, or quandary, is people who believe that other people who do not share their religion are in need of saving. You know, those "come into the light, and ye will be saved from eternal suffering" types. In a strictly functional, objective way, I completely understand it - a religion ain't a religion unless there are a bunch of people who believe it, and the best way to get people to believe in something is promise them a better, more fulfilling life. I get it, religion and thus conversion fill a need. But what I truly don't comprehend is that some people really believe that if I'm not Christian, or whatever, my eternal soul (presuming I have one - not the point) is endangered.
What got me thinking about this subject was the following exchange, which I found in the comments of a YouTube video for the titled song.

wacko0500: I don't beleive [sic] in god, but i still love this song. :)

Enoch2: Lord Jesus Christ, please lead wacko0500 to Yourself. Show him your great love and power to save. Let Your will be done. Amen.

This Enoch2 person seems sincere to me, and in a later comment he cites some scripture to a similar effect.
I realise, of course, that all religions are different both between and within, depending on which denomination a person is and even the person him/herself, but I just don't get how someone can believe that simply because I do not share their ideas about the universe and the nature of being, that I am in grave danger. To be frank, it really kind of hurts my feelings. Am I any less worthy than someone else? Are my contributions that less valued? Just because I live my life following the way of peace and goodness and righteousness, but have different reasons for doing so, does that mean I do not deserve peace after I die? Just because I do not believe that Jesus was the son of god, just because I do not believe in a single creating entity? Just because I don't think that, even if there is a God (or Goddess), he/she has nothing better to do in His (or Her) realm of being than pay attention to who thinks he/she is real, and treat them accordingly?

I'm sorry, but if I believed in a God, it would be a God who didn't give a damn if I believed in it/him/her. I want to be judged by my actions, not what I believe to be true about the universe. And I don't want my actions judged by any scriptures, either. In the end, I, and the people I affect, are the ones who decide what the consequences are.

(I also believe that my actions will be judged through karma and samsara: the cycle of being in the universe, but not through any conscious, deliberate means, and that is separate from the issue at hand. Or at least I think so.)

Thoughts? Comments? Don't know what the flaming water stops on a biscuit I'm talking about?

Ruby Red Grapefruit

So this running thing? Actually starting to like it! I know, insane. A truly awful run on Tuesday made me almost give up, but then I thought "Ali, you are being dumb and quitting on this before you even give it a shot. Just like you always do when you think something is going to be hard. Suck it up, and put on your $15 running shoes, and get out there!" And I did and it was great. Go me.

Since I am evidently sticking to this running thing, I'm sure you'll be hearing more about it. I'll try not to be too boring, it's just so exciting!

The Daily 'Dote
I'd almost given up on Ovaltine after an incident when I decided it would be an acceptable whitener/sweetener in coffee. (Hint: It's really not.) Now I've decided I like it. It has 5 essential nutrients!

Ouchies.

So remember that list of resolutions I made? I have actually started one, and I'm even sticking to it. Ladies, I have taken up running. Crazy right? Me, doing cardio? I have decided that the optimal time to run is between 9 and 10 at night, because it is dark and not many people are out, so no one can see me wheezing and running like an ancient three-legged warthog, but people are still awake so I can knock on doors should an emergency arise. I think I should make it clear that I hate having to run (why can't I get fit sitting in a chair?) I hate preparing to run (2 bras - I should go shopping [TMI?]) and I hate the actual running, because I am convinced either one leg is shorter than the other or my body is disproportionately muscled, as my right leg always complains. The one thing I do like about running is not running after running. Feels sooo goooood.

The Daily 'Dote
On Monday I went to a free screening of To Kill a Mockingbird (which was pretty well done, the child actors were good) and on the way, as I was sitting on the bus, I overheard this aged, foreign bus driver talk about how people who refuse to drink think they're better than Jesus, because Jesus drank and it says in the Bible you're supposed to. He was very good natured about it, and I was impressed by his rhetoric. (I realise, of course, that there are many different versions of the Bible that I am not familiar with, and I don't think he was either, but still: very convincing.

Ah well.

Today was a full day. I got up rather late, and as a consequence did not have a shower, went to school, suffered through a very un-entertaining class, slept like a wee babe down in the depths of the fine arts building (I brought my sunglasses today, so I was wearing them with my jacket hiked up to my ears, slumped in my seat. If I'd worn a hood, I would have looked like the unibomber, napping.).

Then I had drama, in which we presented our monologues for the directing class that will be directing us in our last scenes, which went well. Then I went to the mall because I had booked an appointment to donate blood, long story short I can't! Which I was actually somewhat relieved about, because R-Girl was informing me of horror stories. Basically, because I was in a malaria risk area (Turkey) I am ineligible for a year. But I did get to have my hemoglobin tested, which was cool (I am not anemic!), but the puncture dealy hurt like a sonofabitch and I bled all over the lady's glove.

So THEN I went to the store where I got the previously discussed stuffed animal, and found a cheap mug with a duck motif. I really need to stop going there.


And while I'm sure that qualifies as The Daily 'Dote, here is another.

I went to a lecture on Race, Gender and Citizenship after 9/11 (which was as interesting as it sounds), ate way too many cookies, and met a charming octogenarian. He showed me the wonderous prairie view from the balcony (which I was already familiar with) and seemed to sincerely believe that all the world's problems would be solved by making all positions of power egalitarian in terms of gender. I am inclined to agree, but his basis for this assertion was "women are nurturers who instinctively seek out gentleness and kindness, and men are heartless destroying machines." I hesitate to paint the world with such broad strokes, but I try to avoid feverent debates with people on the cusp of senility. (It's true. He was a charming man, but he gave everybody in the room the same careful description of the magnificent prairie valleys.)

Well then.

So today, I learned that I did not get a part in a directing scene. Sad. Later today I was shopping for supplies for my monologue (my teacher suggested I put my hair up, which will be the first time in a decade) and I came across a stuffed animal in a discount bin. The store where I was shopping was one of those cheap stores that sell cheaply made copy-cat products. It's a fascinating stuffed animal, about 14 inches tall, grey, and it looks like a cross between snarf from Thundercats and an old-school Disney animation cat wearing sunglasses. It's interesting appearance, cheap price, and my need of cheering up all added up to me being richer one toy.

As I was searching the Internet for pictures of the toy that I could show you, I found out that it is a character from a book. The book is called Kittywimpuss Got Game, written by a fairly successful (at least by her website) animal knick-knack seller. I don't know why this seems more momentous than it is. Perhaps because I thought it was just a ridiculous, fair-ground, let's-stick-sunglasses-on-it-because-we-have-spare-fabric kind of toys, that to find out it was based on a character...

Sadly, the basketball was not included.

Strangers in the Night

So although my blogger dashboard says this is my 101st post, a careful count of my archives reveals that it's around 105, but some of those I am sure are accidental, completely blank posts and edited posts, because, as in the rest of my life, I'm clumsy on the Internet.

So I have a really slack week ahead of me, and as a result I have reached that stage in boredom where I am paralysed with it. I don't feel like doing anything, and nothing holds my interest. You cannot believe the effort it took to talk myself into getting out of bed. (My father says that if you are bored, you're boring, but I don't think he's felt this recently. In other news, I have an undying love for parenthesis.)

This week, too, was a relatively uneventful one. I did audition for directing scenes, so I am rather excited about that. (Although not many people showed up, and they have a grand total of 24 parts to fill, so if I don't hear back my poor ego might die.)

I have found a website on the Internets with all the Xena episodes from all the seasons with Spanish subtitles, so I've decided I will learn a language in a really passive way. I actually watched a Spanish PSA the other day, and I could understand a lot of it, so my plan is working! Mwahaha! (I am choosing to ignore the fact that my method will only teach me to understand Spanish, not speak it. OH WELL.)

Since my week was so utterly boring, I thought I'd share an anecdote as a precursor to the return of The Daily 'Dote. This happened last Sunday, when I was on the bus on the way back to Lethbridge. I got on the bus at the depot when it was already rather full, and I started walking towards the back looking for a non-suspicious person to sit next to. I always get paranoid when I enter a crowded bus because I fear I will make it all the way to the back without a good candidate seat, and of course you can't turn around when you're at the back, and so you might have to sit next to a scary/hideous person. Shut up, I'm shallow. So this paranoia caused me to take a seat only about a 3rd down the bus next to a kid who looked approximately 15. (This diagnosis was later confirmed when I saw him reading The Giver and The Golden Compass.) Behind me sat a woman of about 40 and her young (5?6? I suck at age guessing. He got stuck in the bathroom, anyway) son.

THUS BEGAN THE BUS RIDE FROM HELL!!!

I did what I normally do during bus rides: fished out my iPod, switched on the tunes, and dozed. Or at least I tried to. Every 20 minutes, the woman behind me had to get up to do something. And every single time, she touched me. It seemed accidental, but she was constantly brushing against my shoulder, or my hair, and one time she put her hand on my head. Every 20 minutes. For a 3 hour bus ride. And she never said anything! No apologies, nothing. Eventually I tired of this and gave up trying to sleep, and devoted most of my energy to trying not to yell rude things at her. Soon, I had to divide my restraint between her and the young man next to me. When he saw I was awake, He put away his book and ostensibly looked out the window, but he was constantly shooting glances at me. Little, darting glaces every 5 seconds or so. Very annoying. And every time I looked at him and caught him looking, he's quickly look away, and then shortly after press his leg against mine. At first I thought this was accidental, but after the 7th time it became clear. Over time, his courage built up and he'd leave his leg there instead of taking it away after a bit, so I was forced to move every instance. Then, for the last 45 minutes of the trip, the woman in the seat in front of me took out her sketchbook. Her seat was slightly reclined, and the man in front of my tormentor was not, so there was a gap that my seatmate stuck his head in. Like, all the way. I don't know why the woman didn't notice him staring at her sketching, because his head was practically against hers. This posture required him to lean over me, further reducing my space. He'd bob back and forth from sitting in his seat (and continuing to stare) and pressing his face in that crack for the duration of the ride. Not subtle bobbing, either. He'd slump loudly into his seat, jolting mine, and then lurch forward again. I hadn't had a proper bus nap, so I was doubly ready to kill him. I swear, it was the most homicidal for the longest amount of time I've ever felt.

Needless to say, I just about ran from the bus.