"The blood of Christ, shed for you."

This is what I told about two hundred people this afternoon. And maybe fifty of them had that figured out. I can't blame them, it's taken me quite a long time to get that figured out.

So here's the story of communion --at His last Passover meal, Jesus passed around a loaf of bread to His buddies and told them "This is my body, broken for you." So they were like "Mkay, this is weird, but He must know what He's talking about..."
And then He busts out the wine. "This is my blood, shed for you."
In short, Jesus died. Yup. He did. And He did it so that we wouldn't have to go to hell. Communion is one of the ways we Christians take time out of our lives to remember or ponder or whatever we do that Jesus suffered immeasurable pain so that we can go about complaining about how badly our lives suck knowing that there's something out there better than this.

Exhibit A --The Man

How is it
that guys can be such assholes.
They're as nice as can be for months, years even, then they turn into these wrathful machines that spew off crap about your personality and every little nit picky thing you've ever done in their presence and they think it makes them manly.

Damn what is wrong with the human race?
When chicks do that, its understandable --hormones. And something about having parts of your body slowly ooze out over a time frame of three to six days is just fucking painful.


psykulor: and you said nothing
psykulor: like you are now

LewaANDGali3: as I just told you
LewaANDGali3: I'm working on this blog
LewaANDGali3: so I can go to bed

psykulor: okay
psykulor: jeez
psykulor: don't jump down my throat about it

LewaANDGali3: you were doing the exact same thing

psykulor: yeah
psykulor: but I do want to know what you think

So we won.

This year it really didn't come as a surprise to me, for whatever reason. My team is going to World Finals, which this year is being held in East Lansing. Conveniently, I will be attending my grandfather's memorial service while I'm out celebrating creativity and all that good stuff.
How lovely.

Not that I was really close to him or anything, but it'll just be.... odd. The last funeral for a member of my family was '99 or '00, right after my grandmother's ninetieth birthday. Never knew her. I recognized the person who lived in Loftland, the person who I would deliver Depends to occasionally when my parents didn't have time to visit. A person who would be laboriously brought into my living room every Christmas to blankly watch my sisters and I open our presents.

Not like I'm really close to anyone, actually. I know better than that.
Don't I?