Forty Days of Bitching

Another Easter has come and gone, and with it, marks the end of Lent. In case you need a refresher, Lent is a 40-day period in Catholic tradition that begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on Easter Sunday. Many devout Catholics will give stuff up for Lent. I thought it was because of the whole story of Jesus being in the desert for 40 days, being tempted by Satan, but according to this Wikipedia article, it seems that I was wrong. Either that or I skimmed the article and did a crappy job of reading it (sorry). At any rate, the types of things that people give up for Lent include (but are obviously not limited to) chocolate, sex, coffee, and drinking. I even know of a friend of Facebook who gave up using her Blackberry for Lent. Uh, whatever.

Well, thank goodness that Lent is over, because I am sick and tired of people on Facebook talking about what they gave up for Lent and how hard it was for them. Boo frickity hoo. Nobody forced you to give anything up; you did it out of your own free will. So please, spare me the bitching and moaning about how you can't live without coffee and how you won't make it to 40 days. If you can't live without coffee, then drink some, for the love of god, but stop complaining!!!

Actually, my beef isn't really with Lent per se. My beef is with religious tradition in general (ANY religious tradition). When we are born, most of us take up the religious faith of our parents. I was born into a Roman Catholic family, and therefore I was raised as a Catholic, having been baptized and had my first communion per the traditions of the Catholic faith. Catholicism, compared to Protestantism, for example, is VERY VERY focused on tradition. Devout Catholics, for example, will not eat meat on Fridays. Catholic mass is huge on tradition (I'm not sure that tradition is the right word here, but I can't think of a better one right now). My husband, a Protestant, attended Christmas Midnight Mass with me once (I was dragged), and was quite surprised by how we had to stand up, sit down, and kneel at various points throughout the mass. And then there are the various things that are recited. I've been to mass a number of times in my youth, and I still don't know all the stuff that's recited. But I think that even the people who DO know what's being recited are just saying the words. I'll go out on a limb and say that I think this applies to 90% of Catholic churchgoers. I say that because in the recent times that I attended (ahem...was dragged to) mass, most of the people looked totally unenthused about what they were saying. It was just pure regurgitation.

So back to my original point. We are born into our parents' faiths. We are immersed in their religion. We are often (though not always) taught to accept their faith and its accompanying traditions as the only way of doing things. Questioning the faith is not really encouraged, even though are parents and/or teachers/schools/workplaces can make us aware we are made aware of other faiths. After all, most of us don't live in isolated communities and will at some point be exposed to other religions. Hell, I even took world religions in my Catholic high school (I was already an atheist by then).

And questioning faith doesn't necessarily have to be all about questioning the existence of god or Jesus or any of that stuff. It can even include questioning traditions. What does it mean to follow the rules of Kosher, or to eat Halal meat, or to eat fish on Fridays? What does it mean for women to cover their hair with a wig in the traditional Jewish faith or with a scarf in Muslim faith? If god is supposed to be this benevolent, omniscient, omnipresent being who created humans in his (or her) image, then what will it matter what food we eat or what we wear? (Okay, I'm not saying to skank it up here.) I don't think god will love you any more or any less for it. And if such a god did judge us that way, then I think we have bigger problems on our hands.

Make that Ringing Stop!

So much for peace and quiet. I came into the office at 7am this morning. While I hate waking up early to make it into the office early, there is something to be said for the serenity you get at the office when NOBODY is around. Except that this morning, I had company. As I walked into the office, I heard a cell phone ringing. CONTINUOUSLY. It is still going on, and it's about 7:45am now. For all I know, it was probably going on for hours. I thought that maybe someone left their phone at their desk overnight or something and some poor unwitting soul was trying to reach the owner of said phone. But then the phone wouldn't be ringing continuously like that. It would probably go to voicemail or just cut off. I guess it must be one of those walkie-talkie phones that Bell used to offer. (Or still offers?)

I walked down the hall to investigate where this sound was coming from. And then I spotted it. Not the phone itself. A package. And the phone was INSIDE the package. For a split-second there, I thought I was in the Matrix or something. Whoa!

I really hope that whatever this thing is, its rightful owner arrives soon so that this ringing can go away already. It's driving me nuts!

I Really Don't Get It

What's the deal with the Pussycat Dolls? I really don't get it. There are 5 chicks, one of which is good-looking and who can sing. The other four are just there for aesthetic appeal. They all dress like Bratz dolls. The other 4 Pussycat Dolls don't even sing. They just "dance" (if you consider stripper moves to be a form of dancing). Oh, and they have the audacity to claim that they're a positive influence on girls. If you consider dressing up like a hooker and doing lap-dances on TV to be a positive influence, then clearly I'm just either getting way too old, or I'm maybe missing some subliminal message here.

Blogging Conundrum

These days, everyone and their brother blogs, and everyone and their brother has an opinion about SOMETHING or other that will eventually make it on to their blog. I am but one little ant in a rainforest full of big, exotic creatures. Still, I do like to blog, and I like the fact that I have a small readership. My readership consists mainly of friends who pop in on a semi-regular basis (my fault, since I haven't been posting here as often), plus a few strangers who comment on my blog topics every so often.

I find that part of the fun of having this blog is to be able to express myself with no holds barred. I am very opinionated, and my opinions can be quite flaming at times. Unfortunately, I have a bit of a conundrum. Since I know some of my audience, I now find myself editing out some of my flaming comments as I write a post. Or I'll refrain from writing a post altogether if I know that it will piss off one of my friends.

I guess that makes it a self-imposed censorship of sorts. It's self-imposed because there's really nothing stopping me from expressing my opinions about certain topics, except hurting my friends' feelings. I guess that's why I'm in IT and not in journalism!

Holy Freaking Crap!

I'm obviously working for the wrong company. Check this out.

A Wee Bit of Humor

Yesterday I was at the JCC (Jewish Community Center - kind of like the YMCA) for a fitness class. I had to sign in at the athletics desk, since I'm not a member. When I looked up, I noticed that one of the guys working at the desk had a JCC uniform T-shirt. Makes sense, since he works there. His name was also embroidered on the T-shirt. It was Jesus.