saturday.

amazingly the Brit didn’t spend the entire day in the office yesterday and was home by five. I watched all five episodes of “our mutual friend” yesterday and managed to do no freelance work. “I can do it tomorrow” i kept saying.

well, ‘tomorrow’ is now upon me and a mere hint of a cold (sore throat and cough) has relegated me to the couch to be doted on by the Brit who has promised that he will not need to go back to the office til tuesday. in the meantime, my freelance job slips another day and my shoes remain in a pile downstairs but I’ll get to it “tomorrow.” I have my Piorot novel to keep me company. I was going to read our mutual friend again because I loved it so much but I think I should move on to something I haven’t read before.

tomorrow, if I’m feeling better, I’m going to make hot cross buns for Easter. yum. we had a bakery deliver some to our office on Thursday and I didn’t have one so now I have a hankering for some. they smelled so good!

having a hint of a cold was a good excuse for not going to church yesterday or Sunday. my mom didn’t guilt trip me. I don’t think I could cope with good Friday mass. I remember it being three hours. we used to act out the stations of the cross when I was in grade school. I always wanted to be Mary but always ended up being the chick that washed Jesus’ feet or a random townsperson shouting out “crucify him!” one year, I got to be a roman soldier because the kid playing him threw up five minutes before he had to go on. panic ensued. Sister Helen grabbed me and told me to take his place. I had a boy haircut and she probably mixed me up with ray apudo, the other Asian kid in the class who had the same hair (thanks mom). it was cool though. I had a spear… which was really a broom handle spray painted silver with triangle covered in tin foil, stuck to the end with a hot glue gun. it was a big budget production as you can see. anyway, those are the good Friday masses I remember fondly. I can’t imagine it any other way. when we were too old to put on the play, the girls did liturgical “dancing” after the little kids were done with the play.  liturgical dancing is a whole other blog post.  it was a cross between polyphonic spree and the happy hands club from Napoleon dynamite. I loved it and I thought I was so cool til I met people who (a) weren’t catholic (b) didn’t go to my school (c) didn’t think much of polyester robes and (d) didn’t give a fuck. so that’s … hmmm, maybe everyone. man, catholic grade school really tries its damnedest to make you a geek.

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