Bloody but unbowed

"Discrimination is a hellhound that gnaws at Negroes in every waking moment of their lives to remind them that the lie of their inferiority is accepted as truth in the society dominating them." --Martin Luther King, Jr.

Carol Anderson, who was for over 20 years the Rector of All Saints Episcopal Church in Beverly Hills, was one of the first women priests ever ordained.  She is a giant in the Christian faith, and her sermons and books are a profound inspiration to people all over the world.  She is also a person who I am extremely fortunate enough to have formed a friendship with over the last couple of decades, and although most people don't know it - she has knee problems.

Serenity, with a Side of Panic

Written in early 2008 I hate flying. Its pretty horrendous, sitting on an airplane and getting claustrophobia while being terrified of dying, but surely the worst part of it for me is the airport. Airports are full of those things I have mental blocks about and which I'm therefore scared of - numbers, clocks...people...I get so freaked out about going to airports that I hate having anyone take me or pick me up. I would rather spend a bazillion dollars taking a cab with a non-English-speaking cab driver than have anyone drive me because my nervousness is so great that I seize up and go into slow motion and I can't even make decent conversation. When I'm not having recurring nightmares about losing my purse, I'm dreaming about being in airports and being pelted with numbers and clocks while people are running over me with Smarte Cartes. That's how much I hate them.

A Karma Macchiato

Written in December 2007

A Karma Macchiato

All sorts of weird things have happened to me this year. I had a cancer scare, a stalker, a mean guy dumped me and broke my heart, I got an ulcer and lost 15 pounds, then I lost my job and sprained my ankle. Oh, and I sprained my wrist too.

All of these terrible things have prompted my friends to ask me, one by one, that age-old question: "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Mollie’s Roommates

Written Monday, October 15, 2007 

One of the many reasons I love doing volunteer work at my church is because it's the only area of my life that, 100% of the time, turns out to be more fun than I expect it to be.  You know how it is. The majority of activities in life are underwhelming. You get all psyched for a party and then you get dressed up and go, and after about fifteen minutes you think "OK. I'm so bored I want to chop my own head off." or - as you're headed home from your friend's show in Pasadena at 1AM on a work night you think "Well, that's twenty dollars and three hours of my life I'll never get back..." Maybe it's just me, but most things don't live up to my expectations. Maybe I'm a bitch.

Scared of Skunks

Written in Sept. 2007

This past Monday night at 8:05 PM, I was standing at my boss' desk thinking "C'mon, c'mon, hurry it up. I gotta get out of here.." as he pondered the items on some invoices. He was taking his time, trying to make sure I hadn't left out any charges to our clients, and I was antsy. 

Finally after an eternity he handed me the sheaf of papers and I asked, crossing my fingers, "Can I possibly do these corrections tomorrow morning?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Go on." he grumbled reluctantly in his low growl.

Are you ready?

Written Wednesday, September 05, 2007 

When I was a kid growing up in the Baptist church, they used to preach a lot about the Rapture. The church I attended with my mom and my grandma, Pleasant Valley South, was a very sweet, nurturing, wonderful place where I had many positive spiritual experiences, but that Rapture stuff - I gotta tell ya - it scared the shit out of me. According to the Bible, the Rapture is that day, somewhere in the future, where God decides to take the righteous people up to heaven and he leaves the wicked people on earth to be judged and sent to purgatory and various levels of hell. You can imagine how this scenario might play out in the mind of a child sitting on a pew chewing Juicy Fruit gum from grandma's purse and listening to Preacher Mathis, with his Navy Tattoos running up and down his arms, expounding on how one of these days - nobody knows when - some of y'all are gonna git left.

Thoughts on love and loneliness in preparation for Valentine's Day

Written on Wednesday, February 07, 2007 

Carol Anderson, the rector at my church, was one of the first women to be ordained as an Episcopal priest in the late 1970's. She is an imposing figure - an intellectual giant who is regarded as one of the world's foremost authorities on theology. Carol is a dear friend of mine and while I love and admire her, I have to admit I am still a teeny bit intimidated by her. While she's preaching she can be very warm and spiritual, but her one-on-one conversational style is brusque and direct, and you immediately sense that you'd better say what you mean quickly and get the heck out of her face because she's very busy saving the world. Woe be unto ye who try to push Carol around. You'll get a razor-sharp rebuttal straight from her genius-level I.Q. and you'll walk away with a red, smarting ego.