Yesterday at the Union Square's Farmer's Market there were signs advertising A Real Farmer! that was going to be there in person. It was my lunch break and one of the first sunny days we've had since Winter ended (YEAH Spring!) so I mosyed on over to where the Farmer was and lo-and be-hold there were a swarm of New Yorkers around him

-- aaaaaall excited---

"oooooooooo! a REAL LIVE FARMER!"

hil.ar.ious.

I am going to have to do something very difficult tomorrow. I have not had the strength to do it before now, but this needs to be done.

Peace Pipes and Bibles.


Happy Easter ya’ll!

Oh wait.

I’m from Los Angeles not Dallas.

Happy Easter dudes!

YEAH West Coast 80’s vernacular still being used today!

Anywhoozies, I was nice and asleep in my bed—it is currently 7:30am on a Sunday and I went to sleep at 3am but something was BUGGING me so much I needed to get up and write it down. It all started yesterday when I saw this picture on a Christian website:
















that had this caption:

"Fun Fact: The Pilgrims were radical non-conformists who, unlike the Puritans who maintained their membership to the Church of England, believed worship should be organized independently of the trappings, traditions and organization of a central state church. The above picture is of Pilgrim leader John Carver and Massasoit, leader of the Wampanoag Confederacy, sharing a peace pipe."


But before I get to the picture I want to share what I believe. I am a Christian. People say, of course you are, your parents are both Christians, so it makes total sense. My response to that will forever be ERM…NO. My upbringing was a living nightmare filled poor choices on my “Christian” parents and “Christian” step-parents part and if anything I believe in God DESPITE what the people who raised me believe.

That being said, I am not a conservative person. People seem to think Christians are all from the South are all Republicans, love Bush and hate abortions and gay-marriage.

Unless you count Southern California as part of the South, then ERM…NO to all of that.

But please get me started on abortions and gay folks since most Christians wont touch these topics with a ten-foot pole unless they are saying it is wrong. Abortion. I don’t believe in it…but I will fight with every breath in my body for a woman’s right to chose. I would NEVER impose my morals on somebody else…and the founding fathers chose separation of church and a state for a reason. Gay-marriage. That one is tricky. I am fully aware of what the Bible says—the New Testament Bible at that and I believe that a lot of Christians believe gays are going to Hell anyway. But that is pure ignorance. We ALL have fallen short of the Glory of God and ALL would be Hell bound if it were not for God’s grace. That includes gay people too ya’ll. I mean dudes. A lot of Christians don’t really know any gay people. It’s easy to judge people you don’t know. Or really know--I’ll give an analogy. Just because you have one black friend does not mean you understand inner-city poverty. In addition, although I struggle to see why anybody would want to get married in the first place, I support gay –marriage because I support the fundamental belief--and the foundation of American Democracy—that all men are created equal.

But this blog entry is entitled Peace pipes and Bibles. WTF? You may ask. YES. This is my real struggle. Some Christians are so so busy converting the gay folk and the pregnant girls…but that is not what my Jesus loving heart struggles with. I have brown, white red and black colors (in that order) running through my veins.

YEAH mixed people!

And because of that, "Manifest Destiny" bothers me to my very CORE. And everyone else seems to have moved on. Peace pipes are just as much as my culture as Bibles are and my Cherokee—raised on a reservation in Oklahoma—Peace pipe smoking grandma would roll over in her red ground grave if I said that Manifest Destiny was God’s will. (The fact that my grandma is even from Oklahoma and not Georgia because my peeps had to go on a little hike called the Trail of Tears bothers me too—but I won’t open up THAT CAN OF WORMS.)

This is what I really struggle with. WHERE IS ALL OF THIS COMING FROM ELIDIA?

Seeing that stupid picture! Siiigh.

But back to the picture:













When I saw this picture yesterday along with the caption and it was all, yeaaah we’re progressive Christians! But all I kept on thinking was did he smoke that peace pipe before or after giving dem brown folks small pox infested blankets? I don’t have an answer to this…this is just something that really bothers me…so…

ya'll can put that in your pipe and smoke it.

That's right. I'm back to ya'll.


Feedback would be great::::

hit me up here:

ducontra04 (at) yahoo.com

Obama is one smart cookie.

Read or watch his Speech on Race here.

This man knows how to get to the heart of the touchiest of subjects in such a honest yet tender way.

I would love to see what would happen with him in office.

Happiness is…stomping to work this morning during the thunderstorm knowing that my toesies would stay nice and dry because of these bad boys:

For all you science geeks out there:

Today is National "Talk Like a Physicist Day!"

WHY?

"Because we're at least as cool as pirates, that's why."


I LOVE IT!

and

I LOVE HIM!"


Any 71 year old teacher who risks his life for the love of teaching Physics (confident the Laws of Physics will not kill him) is so adorbs to me.

That's right people.

Elidia loves math and science and is not ashamed to admit it.

So, an e-mail was sent out last week to our clients asking them if their titles have changed to let us know so we can update our databook. One of the clients wants his title changed from General Manager to Deputy General Manager.

This is not a joke.

Ummm, does he want me to call him Sherriff too?

On another note, my UCB Improv 301 show on Saturday was so much fun! It was pretty packed even with the crazy rainy weather and flood alerts.

LOVE to those who came out to support!

Although, afterwards we all went out, and I promise you I did not have that much to drink nor was in a restaurant that had ketchup packets, yet I woke up the next morning with like 30 ketchup packets in my purse. I am assuming some prankster put them there as a joke, because the other, more ridonkulous option was that I did it myself and have absolutely no recollection of doing so.

I don’t know why I found this hilarious but my work group got a high priority orange alert e-mail from a VIP client with only this as the message:


Who are you?


I think the real question is good sir, (in my best hookahed up Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland imitation voice, “WHO…are…YOU???”

For some reason whenever I feel BLAH, nostalgic / melancholy songs like Sarah McLachlan’s Building A Mystery make me feel better. Isn’t that weird? Shouldn't happy songs like R.E.M’s Shiny Happy People make me feel less blah? I am such a backwards person.

Also, I had a new Bikram Yoga instructor this morning and he was so cute I had no idea he was talking to me--for like five minutes!--because I was busy simply staring at him.

I am such a doof.

A backwards –tongued tied around cute boys-doof.

But, I’m kinda ok with this.

Here are the song lyrics:

Sarah McLachlan – Building A Mystery (HOW can you not love this song?)

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side's light
And the vampires roam
You strut your rasta wear
And your suicide poem
And a cross from a faith that died
Before Jesus came
You're building a mystery

You live in a church
Where you sleep with voodoo dolls
And you won't give up the search
For the ghosts in the halls
You wear sandals in the snow
And a smile that won't wash away
Can you look out the window
Without your shadow getting in the way?

You're so beautiful
With an edge and charm
but so careful
When I'm in your arms

Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

You woke up screaming aloud
A prayer from your secret god
You feed off our fears
And hold back your tears, oh
Give us a tantrum
And a know it all grin
Just when we need one
When the evening's thin

You're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up your
Razor wire shrine

Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

Ooh you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

You're building a mystery

I hate doctors. No really. I have had a ridiculous pain in my right heel and a swollen ankle in said heel since mid November and I refused to go to the doctor because I hate’emhate’emhate’em. Instead I just mastered the art of the discreet limp. But then I googled blog-clot this morning and got freaked out b/c it said you can die if it’s not treated (BAH!) so off I went this afternoon. The doctor laughed at the idea that I thought I had a blood clot because I have excellent circulation (yeah Bikram Yoga!) and was puzzled by my refusal to see a doctor about the intense pain for upwards of what? More than four months? Is that right? Holy Crap I am stubborn. Anywhoo…the doc says no blood clots—I have Plantar Fasciitis and a super Novocain-ed up right footsie—from a cortisone shot with a needle so deep it hit bone. TMI? Yeah..try being the patient who had to watch, pop some meds and then go back to work.

good times.