What a full day today:
First I bicycled to church (so I get to sleep in tomorrow), a new thing with my brand-new bike after years of no bike. I got to visit with the people at coffee hour, practice Greek, try to understand Greek, and chat with a new friend, a very spiritual young man who’s become close enough to know my struggles with faith and the loss of a meaningful but abusive friendship.
I spoke to him about it back in February, told him the whole thing. It’s hard for a shy introvert like me to make that close of a friend. Facebook chats help a lot.
It’s good to find another spiritual, potentially close friend, to have someone to talk to who’s close enough to actually help. Just his presence at church is quiet moral support as I go through this tough time.
My priest has also known for the past two years about my struggles, the various things that have come up, since I’ve been going to him for advice, prayer and counsel over this ever since July 2010.
They were my support system since long before the ex-friends (Richard and Tracy) found my blog. So I’m not all alone there, even though Jeff goes to a different church. There’s nothing the ex-friends can do to me with my support system in place.
They have threatened to sue me if I tell members of the church about what they’ve done, but I told my priest and this friend long before they made that threat, and I’ve also told them about the threat and the blog stalking and intimidation they’ve done since.
It is my human right to confide in whomever I choose about my problems, so such a lawsuit would violate my free speech, would be frivolous, and would be thrown out of court.
Such threats are often used by bullies/abusers to keep their victims quiet and fearful.
That woman, Tracy, even pressed up against my back in the communion line and started breathing loudly–literally breathing down my neck and snarling!
It is a huge relief to connect and re-connect with normal, nice people who do not abuse their friends, who just have the usual human foibles. The more I see them, the better I feel, the farther along I get on the healing process.
Then I went to another friend’s annual Highland Games/caber toss thing. Stoneput, spear throwing and another tossing thing were added, and the usual caber tossing (big pole like a utility pole, in various weights/sizes). Extra points if you wear a kilt.
The usual/annual jokes about men tossing their wood and what’s under that kilt. (The rules stated that you cannot go commando because it’s unsanitary and could subject the people behind you to an unwelcome view as you toss your caber.)
And the usual fun was had by all.…Oh, and Jeff got a plaque (homemade by my friend, T., a gifted craftsman) for coming in 1st place in mini caber.
I tend to have unique friends. I’m not used to the rougher types T. hangs out with, but my friends are usually geeks of some kind, computer geeks, British comedy fans, Dr. Who fans, roleplaying geeks, reenactment geeks (SCA, Renaissance Faire). I even married one.
That’s also why my friends tend to be guys, though sometimes girls are this way as well.
T. is one of these unique friends, met years ago through other geeky friends I met on a local BBS (back before the Internet made BBS’s into a bunch of crickets chirping, around 2000). He also has Scottish ancestry, and even claims to go back to King Nebucchadnezzar. I believe he goes back to King MacAlpine as well, which makes us cousins in a way, because so do I.
Though I couldn’t help wondering–after discovering that not only does my dad’s line go back to royalty, so does my mother’s–if some of the records coming down have been fudged.
Why is it that everybody I know, who has records stretching back that far, goes back to royalty? Or is it just that if you can trace your records back that far, you must be from royalty, because the records of common peons would not be so carefully kept?
[Update: I recently read some Internet article which demonstrated that, based on math and probability, EVERYONE goes back to some kind of royalty.]
T. also comes from a unique family: Today he told the story of his stepfather, I believe it was, who likes to go into the pharmacy, let a nasty one go in one aisle, then go to another aisle and watch in the security mirror to see people’s reactions.
Once he did this while T.’s mother was bent down looking at a bottle. An old lady came along, said, “Well, I never!” and started hitting her with her purse. The response: “Maybe you should, and then you’ll be in a better mood.”
Another of my unique friends, M., seems to know other people I know as well: the youth pastor I used to work with 12 years ago, and a new convert at my church who almost went to live with him.
He is the kind of person who started out with a completely normal, ordinary name, hated it, and legally changed it to a name from myth (which if I named to you, would identify him, so I won’t give the name). He also wore a beautiful kilt to T’s first Highland Games, in October 2010.
We used to play Dungeons and Dragons with him, his sister, his sister’s boyfriend (now husband, who was the first one I befriended on that BBS), T., and a teenager who also hung around in our little group on the BBS and in person, back around 2000.
The teenager was obsessed with Star Wars, wore a Jedi cloak to my birthday party in 1999, and to this day, despite being a mature adult, insists on being called the name of a certain Star Wars character.
In maybe 2001 or so, there was a rift in this group when everyone except me turned against one of the members. I felt like, because I did not want to cut him out as well, I was also jettisoned, because after that, there were no more invites, no more showing up for our invites.
But in the summer of 2010, having reconnected with all these people through Facebook, and finding the rift repaired because the outed member had greatly matured, Jeff and I invited them to a party.
M. had a sunburn, claimed that grass was good for sunburn, then went out and rubbed his back on our little closed-in lawn. While doing so, he lost his iPod, but didn’t realize it. That night, it rained.
The next morning, we found his iPod on the lawn, and returned it to him. I don’t know if it still worked.
I’m told by T. that M.’s wife was a very serious person in high school, the last person he would’ve expected to marry M. Yet they were together for many years before getting married, so she must’ve had both eyes open. Funny how things turn out, isn’t it?