Maybe it's the post-college philosophical side of some of my fellow graduates, or the "Welcome-to-Seattle-now-let's-have-some-deep-conversations-so-we-can-get-to-know-one-another" side of moving from the Quad Cities to the Emerald City, but, for one reason or another, a stunning number of folks have been asking me about my religious beliefs lately.
Why? Damned if I know. Is there some general concern out there for my spiritual health? Worry over my immortal soul (if I have one, that is)?
Well, whatever the reasons may be, I've had an onslaught of inquiries over the past two weeks alone; so, time to unzip my fly (so to speak) and open a little window for ya'll into my brain:
No, I am not exactly an athiest.
Yes, I have religious beliefs, of sorts.
Yes, I have a spiritual side.
Why do I always say "I'm agnostic" whenever someone asks me about my spiritual side? Why, to avoid the question altogether, naturally!
Perhaps it's better to begin with tidbits of my Religious Upbringing - or perhaps, that of my parents. My parents, as far as I can tell, were spoon-fed their religious beliefs, little-by-little, in a rather strict manner. Always dictated. Ever inflexible. Church every Sunday; and church choir is a must. Immersed in the rightmost wings of Protestantism, prayers, Sunday school, hymns, and the ever-present guilt wielded more influence in their daily lives than television, dating, or school. My mother's parents underwent a terrible, painful divorce over (what I see as "minor") religious differences, leading to the gut-wrenching estrangement of my mother and her sister from their father for over a decade. He did not attend either of their weddings. Luckily, for the record, peace was made before my sister and I were born, making all of my grandparents an important part of my upbringing when we lived in Arkansas.
The "force-fed" approach to Protestantism worked on my parents for quite awhile, until they got married and left "the nest." I guess moving to other places, meeting other people, seeing how differently (yet just as fulfillingly) they live their lives had quite an experience on them. By the time my sister and I came around, mom and dad's version of Religious Upbringing was (in a nutshell): "Go out, and discover for yourself... We'll give you a base, and you can expand from there."
So, at a young age, my sister and I were taken to church, and we went to Sunday school (our endless questions, however, occasionally banned us from the classroom... "Are we all inbred if Adam and Eve's children had to marry one another?"...), and given Southern Protestantism as a base from which to launch ourselves. Unfortunately, other more conservative members of my extended family fought hard to "force-feed" my sister and I, just as my parents had been. These repeated attempts ultimately contributed (to an extent) to our moves across the country during my childhood. Damage had already been done, particularly to my sister. Our religious growth continued safe in Illinois, albeit I can say confidently for both myself and my sister that we were both highly jaded based on the tug-of-war that had ensued; we both also developed a keen sense of caution towards organized religion and held our beliefs (whatever we had at the time) close and private. I'd been punished, to an extent, for trying to "go it alone" before, and there's no way in hell I'd ever let that happen to me again.
My parents again pushed, as best they could, a kind, withdrawn mixture of Self-Reflection and Midwestern-style "Transcendentalism." Years passed. I grew. Pimples, body hair, homosexuality, orchestra, braces, glasses, no glasses, glasses again, cars, boys, college, divorce, friends, love, hugs, jobs. West with the night - And now here I sit in Seattle, thousands of miles from where It All Began; and people are asking the dreaded questions:
"So, do you have religious beliefs?"
"What's your spiritual health like these days?"
"Do you go to church?"
"Tell me all about your spiritual side."
Well, based on what I've previously said, you'll understand when I simply answer, "I'm agnostic." It's a lie, of course. But it's an easy, painless cop-out. You don't need to know my spiritual side to know me, befriend me, read my website, love me, hate me, hug me, or converse. It's a highly private part of my life. No human knows them except me.
I'll tell you this much, if you find my previous explanation is insufficient:
-I have religious beliefs.
-I do not need an organized religious service (Christian or otherwise) to express my beliefs. I am still quite wary of organized spiritual or religious gatherings, as they remind me all too often of the religious "pains" of my childhood. I do not discourage others from attending organized, legal, respectful, prudent religious services or gatherings of their own, however, as they see fit.
-I've occasionally attended church as needed, mostly for others.
-I have the full and unconditional support of my parents and sibling for whatever I believe - for I have done what they wanted, and what I wanted: I went out and discovered for myself.
-I do not believe I should impose my beliefs upon others, or try to "convert" them. I assert that such acts would be horrific invasions of individual privacy and inward thought, the tenets of what I assert are essential for proper spiritual development.
If you need me to know your religious or spiritual beliefs, that's fine. Hypocritically, someday I might ask you yours out of curiosity, though I'll most likely refrain from volunteering details of my own beliefs, aside form what I've posted here. I assume few are as secretive as I, as I assume few have had the experiences my sister and I have had. So, forgive me if I inquire and accidentally offend you. I assume all others are more willing to share than I.
That is all.
A conversation a work today made me realize that, half the time, you guys don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Why didn't someone say something sooner?!
Yes, I take nonsense words, usually from movies, and use them in everyday language. Click below for a smattering of the James Language:
Degradetation: Feelings of helplessness, or depressed frustration, usually surfacing after events have transpired that I feel I've had little control over. Verb forms are also highly utilized.
Fubar: Nope, not "F*cked Up Beyond All Recognition." Instead, I've twisted it into a state of depression; nothing severe or suicidal... just a persistent feeling of the "downs."
Esculvalor: While the first two entries were, no doubt, stolen from movies, this one is definately my own brainchild. Picture fat, little Jim combining the words for "Escalator" and "Elevator," because, in his puny mind, the two MUST be the same; after all, they both get you upstairs or downstairs without moving your legs! Idiot.
Rejartables: I've a sinking feeling I stole this from Absolutely Fabulous; I can almost hear Edina saying it. Rejartables is a general term for "things which much be purchased at the store I recently said I was going to." Bonus if it's a grocery store, farmer's market, or supermarket, since "rejartables" sounds to me like something that should be eaten.
Yao Labbery: This does NOT refer to the Yao Lab itself. In such a case, I would obviously say "Yao Lab" (as we do when we answer the phone). Yao Labbery is an all-encompassing term for the comaraderie, good will, and general insanity that spills over our lab benches, in between the floor tiles, and even seeps into the air. It invades our cells; it clings to our clothes. It's the way we make fun of one another, while also helping each other. Laughing at, and with each other... getting sidetracked so easily at lab meeting... going to lunch at the drop of a hat. Discussing Harry Potter, the war on terrorism, songs of the 1980s, Israeli politics (you can bet I brought that one up)and Strong Bad e-mails all while running gels, blotting, and setting up PCRs and restriction enzyme digests.
There you have it. Five words, and ways in which I rape them.
That is all.
Purchased the third season DVD set of The Simpsons last night.
Enough said.
Meng-Chao is giving lab meeting today = Chinese baked goods!
Yes, I can indeed spend twenty-five minutes pacing around, wasting time; AND still come up with a legitimate reason to justify such a fritter.
Observe:
In the complex of buildings at the Hutch that I work at, there is one coffee/espresso bar (it's Seattle, after all), and one cafeteria, the Double Helix Cafe. Yes, read that again. Double. Helix. Cafe.
"Analysis, children..."
Double Helix: sly reference to the structure of DNA proposed by Watson and Crick (and, I would also argue, by Rosalind Franklin... but we'll save the Scienceandfeminism debate for another Tuesday) in 1953/4.
Cafe: "a coffeehouse, restaurant, or bar serving coffee and liquors" But, the Hutch can only oblige us with the liquor every Friday at 5:00PM for Beer Hour.
Alas, poor cafe! Destined for days in which only the most sh*tterific of substances are available for consumption! And yesterday was one of those days. I'd gotten to work around noon after supervising the installation of a new battery into my car ("But, James! Why didn't you install the battery yourself?" Quoth me: "Because Buick put a huge steel rod directly over the battery casing, effectively blocking it and necessitating manly power tools to gain access to it."), so I was fully prepared to stay through lunch and dinner. Having only brought enough leftovers for one meal, however, and knowing that the Double Helix isn't open for dinner, I opted to save my leftovers for dinner, and buy lunch at work.
But swampy fish tacos (it was more like Fish Taco Soup) and a French Dip selection (that made me wish instead they were handing out copies of bad Gérard Depardieu movies) turned my stomach like nobody's business. Stubborness and Raw Southern Pride soon set in. It was late for lunch (1:30PM), the best selections had already been picked over. I searched the Cafe in vain for some morsel and, with each lap, I became convinced that I would not go back upstairs to lab and announce that I'd wasted five... ten... fifteen... twenty minutes wandering around the cafe for something to eat. I HAD to return with something to show for all my wasted time.
But pride and dignity collapsed. I resigned myself to going upstairs, empty-handed, labelling myself as a time-waster. But, as I passed one of the conference rooms on the walk back to the elevators, I noticed a makeshift nurse station being set up for some lofty purpose. Still eager to reclaim my dignity and have SOME purpose for spending so much time absent, I investigated.
Victory! My time away suddenly developed a purpose:
I got a free flu shot, went back to lab, and ate my leftovers for lunch.
Much has happened in my monthlong hiatus. Read on:
Changeness:
-Turned 23 a few weeks ago. Old am I. Big Holysh*t: a friend of mine masterminded a surprise birthday party! I was floored. Still am. Greatest shock: They flew in Sarah from the QC to spend the weekend here. It was fabulous. God as my witness, she is going to move here.
-Moved into my permanent room in the Castle. It's huge, and I've already made it a horrific mess. An uncontrolled assemblage of IKEA furniture, hand-me-downs, and the Howard-Till Memorial Furniture Collection (consisting of an old kitchen table and two bookshelves donated by a labmate and her husband). I finally got around to hanging stuff on the walls - including the eversosacred Ewan McGregor poster.
-Know of any cheap basses in Seattle?
-The Jane Austen Binge of the Summer 2003 hit a Snag: Got through Sense and Sensibility, Persuasion (LOVE IT!), and Northanger Abbey just fine. But Emma is kicking my ass. I shall keep trying. After that, it's Mansfield Park, Sanditon (maybe), and Pride and Prejudice to finish it off. But, either way, it's now become The Jane Austen Binge of the Summer 2003 that Trittled into the Autumn of 2003 because James is a Slow Reader.
-Go see Kill Bill, Volume 1!
-Turkey Sub.
-My car is a corpse, apparently. Needs to be reanimated. AAA, anyone?
-Yao Labbery is going as well as can be expected. With Meng-Chao's departure looming on the horizon, we're all anxious to glean as much as we can from him: paternal advice, stock options, Tetrahymena tidbits.
-(skip this bullet if you're not into biology) I'm between projects now: helping Marcella with her smc4 tagging, and starting a pseudo-RNAi experiment with Patrick. I swear, both endeavours would be so much easier if Tetrahymena weren't binucleate.
-New glasses, new hoodies, clean teeth.
-From what I can gather, my parents are getting along quite well these days. Both have been out to visit now (separately). My father and I had quite a time at IKEA in a failed, clownlike attempt to fit my new bedframe into his rental car. Something to laugh about when I'm 80.
-For my birthday, my sister gave me the first three seasons of Absolutely Fabulous on DVD. It's scary how well she knows me.
-Seattle recycles everything.
-Apparently, not many Americans know the capitol of Nunavut. What is the world coming to?
-The Basic Sciences retreat last month was spectacular. Got a free t-shirt, stayed in an expensive resort, lots of free food, great converstation, SCIENCE SCIENCE SCIENCE, talks, posters, wine, beer, bonfire, bonding, and sleeping in the car all the way back home.
-Still have yet to go to Canada. Ferry to Victoria soon?
-Friends visiting in Thanksgiving, Ellen visiting for Christmas; don't know when I'll get back to the midwest yet (three more months until my vacation time kicks in), but I have a flight "coupon" from ATA for whenever I fly back. Seems to me a Chicago-Missouri-Iowa City-Quad Cities loop is on order to cover everyone I want to visit!
-Volcanoes: Mount Rainier (with Tahoma), Mount Saint Helens, Mount Adams, and now Mount Baker. It's still shocking to see more mountain peaks than cornfields whenever I look out a window.
-The Seattle winter is approaching: 8 hours of day and drizzle. But, in the meantime, today is sunny, cool, and breezey. Bliss.
-I'll pay the extra money to see the third Matrix installment at the Boeing IMAX Theatre.
-I've a crush on a friend of mine; he's not interested.
-A different friend of mine has a crush on me; I'm not interested.
-I've actually ventured to Seattle gay bars. Not as horrific as I thought they'd be. 2 down, 12,000 to go?
-Am I really asocial?
-I want a Cheat hoodie. Medium or large.
-I think I should paint my toenails again. It's going to be a long winter.
Wilkommen.
In case you haven't heard, then it is my sad duty to announce the untimely death of Demand Instant Gratification. Hatched in the summer of 2001 in an overly-air-conditioned computer lab in Mayflower Hall at the University of Iowa by myself and Sah (the best teams, after all, have two brains and three arms), my first attempt at weblogging served me well for over two years. Alas, it met an untimely death, thanks to the corruption of blogger. New posts after Sunday, 21 September 2003 became dreams deferred. Blogger killed it. Smote the Precious. Damn them all.
But fear not, mortals! Welcome to www.isleepinadrawer.com. If you do not yet know the holy Simpsons reference, see the episode where Milhouse's parents get divorced. Many many many heartfelt thanks to Sah for setting this up. Lovelove; thou art truly righteous. Movabletype rocks.
Unfortunately, the manner in which blogger killed my old site prevents towing over old scraps of genius. But, should the stomach crave Old Sustenance, feel free to pop in and read for a spell, while it's still there.
So enjoy! Expect your old favorites to return:
-Cursing.
-Overuse-of-hyphens
-Runningwordstogetherforemphasis.
-Bleeding-heart liberal rants.
-Ms. Manners
-Gargamel
-One. Word. Sentences.
-Childhood trauma.
-Thrills!
-Chills!
-Nudity (You know, the kind in which I remain fully clothed.)
-Pictures? Won't promise much.
-Contradiction & General Gayness
-Jamesness