Thanksgiving (the Holiday) Came Early This Year

My family (parents & sister) were in town this past weekend (Thursday night through Tuesday morning), and now I’m left to push through the funk that always accompanies the days and weeks following their presence. Fortunately this morning at work, I felt an incredible weight lifted off me and my lungs were able to breathe easily again. It might be a coincidence that this relief coincided with the ascension of my family’s aircraft, but I think not! I love them ‘til death, but 96 hours + in one sitting is a bit too much these days.

Things they disturbed while they were here (to name a few):
My social agenda (suffered the most).
My blood alcohol level (is dangerously low).
My stove (quit working for a spell on Monday morning).
Broadway went dark. (This is the one thing I didn’t see coming!)

It could have been worse, but it could always be better. Here’s the cynical rundown and obvious highlights…

So, I went to what I consider church on Saturday night (The Urge) and then was coerced into going to what my family considers church Sunday morning (The Brooklyn Tabernacle). And I must say, thank God (read: goodness) that I got some much-needed relief on Saturday night; because even though I was extremely tired and hung-over on the way to Brooklyn (and my sister bravely called me out on it), at least I had the memories of the previous night to reflect upon while the crazies around me got drunk on religion and high on ignorance.

Sitting there, reverently observing, I thought a lot about religious intoxication and how it could (and should) be considered just as detrimental to someone’s health as the more tangible substances I choose to intake to feel better about myself and the circumstances around me.

Every person alive is guilty of chasing down temporary highs; those moments that give our lives purpose; that elevate the consciousness and add complexity to the self. I believe that the freedom to choose how we achieve these moments in time is one of the greatest characteristics of our civilization.

I found it interesting that my family felt it necessary to guilt me into attending the 12 o’clock service with them, knowing that there is no way in hell (or heaven, since they believe in both) that they would have indulged me the same way and accompanied me to my favorite bar on Saturday night. We can add this to the long list of double standards that my family lives by, but why should I expect anything less (read: more).

Pastor Cymbala (whom I blame, as a leader – one of many – who is misusing the position that his manipulated and exploited congregation has ignorantly bestowed upon him) even spoke briefly about intoxication by worldly substances, and how he wouldn’t feel condemned for drinking a glass of wine with dinner, BUT how he wouldn’t do it because 1) his father was an alcoholic & 2) he might be a stumbling block to someone else who has a problem with alcohol. Well, you know what I say to that? Bullshit. Other people’s problems should remain other people’s problems. Belief in what you want and leave me out of it. I will return the favor.

As an outsider, it was very obvious that the vast congregation was intoxicated by the beautiful (award-winning) choir, loud music (I, the faggot, felt the need for ear plugs) and the ritualistic formula that resembles that of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Same thing over and over, with very few surprises and a lot of the same dramatic music used as a device to make the audience feel something they normally wouldn’t (and probably shouldn’t).

I honestly have nothing against religion, but when it comes between me and the loves of my life (sleep, alcohol & friends), it’s not on my happy list. Of course, when you put everything in perspective, my family’s idea of fun is playing dominos and Mad Gab. Little do they know that the whole time my cup was filled with Sauvignon Blanc, my only salvation this weekend. I’m such a bitch.

Highlights of the weekend:

Friday -
Spamalot, even though the whole time all I wanted was Callie O’Malley (Tony Award winner Sara Ramirez) to be back as the Lady of the Lake (instead of the sub-par singer & actress that is Emily Hsu…ugh). The Virgin Mary was a doll to treat.

Saturday -
The Palace Hotel, even though I had to endure the Madison Avenue street fair in order to have the opportunity to geek out in the real (fictional) Serena’s courtyard.

Sunday -
Fall in CP (Central Park), even though we had to search for the only 2 trees in the park that have cooperated with the changing seasons (not that we’ve had much Fall at all here in the city).

Quote of the weekend (said by Mom after the stove was found to be broken not long after she cleaned it): “I thought I was doing something good.”

My response: “You always think you are!”

Lesson of the week – LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE.

Report back to me on how that works for ya…