Suburbian Thanksgiving

I had to do some internet exploration (thank you, little blue "e") to find the right word for the concept I wanted to get across- mainly, my distaste for suburbs and all that they stand for (i.e. driving everywhere and wasting gas, not encouraging the general public to get up and walk, oh … and aluminum siding with florescent lighting).

Having said this, I acknowledge that suburbs do serve mankind; they get some people out of my way (haha). Wikipedia wasn't very much help, but the closest definition I could find was "xenocentrism": the preference for the products, styles, or ideas of someone else's culture rather than of one's own. Sadly, this was the exact opposite of what I was looking for, so perhaps I am an anti-xenocentrist (sounds like a comic book character – I am my own hero!). As people from the suburbs are of a completely different culture, I feel fully justified in applying this definition (for a full list of "isms" please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Isms). For those of you who say "no, you're simply an ethnocentrist", obviously you do not believe in hyphens and rarely-used letters of the alphabet.

My Thanksgiving Day took me deep into the heart of southern Maryland (a.k.a. Whites-ville … no kidding, there was an aerobics complex named "Big Vanilla", good lord …) to a friend's house where an enormous gut-blasting belt-popping tummy-rumbling feast of 2 turkeys and sides galore reeked havoc on my thighs and reservations. I still haven't recovered my appetite.

I looked around the neighborhood there and my anti-xenocentric self was immediately challenged: Wait! I kinda like the idea of a house and a yard and a fence with a dog and neighbors to smile at and quiet streets to stroll along. Dammit!!! My entire construct-of-self is being put to the test!

What was particularly interesting was that in stepping outside of my comfort zone I was more aware of who I am and how I behave. I am used to a college-aged environment in a highly liberal town; I don't give a moment's pause to bashing the President, openly discussing race and immigration, or disclosing my sexuality. Even the word "disclosing" seems oppressive to me.

And suddenly, there I was- careful with what I said, how I said it, and in what context. I was monitoring, calculating, evaluating; simply, I couldn't be myself. But in not being myself I was more mindful, more aware, and experiencing more presence than I usually do.

Anti-xenocentrism comes with its own challenges. It allows you to think you're always right, and rarely forces you to be accountable for your opinions, lifestyle, and worldview.

Damn you, suburbs … *wink*

have your cake and eat it too much

We are a fat country that likes to avoid responsibility. For example, we don't mind that we are physically unappealing as sexual partners to other human beings, but god forbid if this morbid obesity would negatively impact our health! All this was made very clear to me in a recent CNN report on "resveratrol".

The report was as such: "Are you fat? Are you concerned that your clogged arteries will eventually cease their unheard plea for relief and finally collapse under the pressure of a cardiovascular system that's working so exorbitantly hard it's a wonder that the heart hasn't burst through your rib cage from mere expenditure of energy? Well good news, America! There's a substance called resveratrol. But don't worry! You can still be fat, gross, and completely repulsive even in dim lighting! Resveratrol will keep you healthy, despite your obnoxiously obese state of being!" (please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Resveratrol for more information)

This news brief inspired me to consume an immense amount of cake in the past few weeks (along with the psychological trauma of being kicked in the face by my faculty at school). Here is my account of my caloric rampage:

Chicken Out – chocolate cake, fudge frosting
I know, I know. No place that's named Chicken Out should actually be frequented by people who aren't from Alabama, but hold on friends- this chocolate rocked my friggin' world. For locations near you please visit: http://www.chickenout.com

Cheesecake Factory – Chris' Outrageous Chocolate Cake
From the menu: "Layers of Moist Chocolate Cake, Chewy Brownie, Toasted Coconut Pecan Filling and Creamy Chocolate Chip Coconut Cheesecake". Well … just reading that makes me moist, toasted, and creamy all at once. This Chris fellow can chew, layer, and fill my coconut cake anytime (good lord, does that even make sense? This is where attempts at seductive dirty talk fall flat like a frat boy after homecoming)

Starbucks – Carrot Cake and Cranberry Bliss Bar
I root for carrot cake above all other cakes (if you get the pun I'll give you $100), especially when it is given to you for free along with a cranberry bliss bar (slightly disappointed, to be honest). I think the barista was hoping for some carrot bliss action in exchange for the free cake …

Soho – Chocolate Cake
Orgasmic, if you can tolerate the barista who looks like he accidentally mistook a porcupine for a suppository.

Kramer's – Death by Chocolate
Again, orgasmic (note: the French word for orgasm is "la petite mort", or "the little death")

Bread and Chocolate – The Oprah
God only knows why they named a piece of cake "Oprah", but I have to chuckle every time I think about saying "I wanna piece-a Oprah!!!"

Buca di Beppo – Chocolate Vesuvio
It's a humungous slice of chocolate-caramel cake stood up on its end, with one scoop of vanilla ice cream on each side. If your imagination cooks at high enough a temperature, you may even melt the ice cream…

Jesus, money, and sex

I know what you're thinking- "what do Jesus, money, and sex have to do with one another???" And then you start thinking about the temple and the money changers, and Jesus' alleged prostitute wife (don't look at me, blame Dan Brown). And suddenly I feel like we should be chanting "Jerry … Jerry !!!" whenever we crack open the holy book.

But before I step on any more toes (hey! he just washed those feet!), I shall share what religious sentiments have floated my way in the past few weeks:

-"Chaplain Gordon Klingenschmitt sues Congress for suppressing his First Amendment rights to pray in the name of Jesus at public ceremonies for the Navy."

I wonder if Chaplain Klingenschmitt ever considered how a gay person in the military feels when they cannot exercise their right to freedom of speech by disclosing their sexuality? Hmm… I guess it's alright- this poor guy probably has pent up aggression due to an embarrassingly longwinded last name (NO Gordon, you may NOT go out to recess until you've spelled your last name correctly!! – DAMMIT!!!!!!!!)

-A sign on campus advertising a seminar, and I precisely quote: "using scienctific facts to prove bible is true!"

I suppose correct spelling isn't valued in the scientific community, but I would recommend that this bible study group do some dictionary-thumping as well before they start explaining the trufth.

-CNN did a report on an "ATM for Jesus", in which a church had set up a "giving kiosk" where you could charge your offerings to the church by debit or credit card.

Right … So I'm imagining it's like at a restaurant when they bring you the bill (one entree of righteousness, a side of blessing-biscuits, and two filtered holy waters) and then you have to fill in the amount for the tip (Holy crap! Tax is 10%, and then another 10% for tithing!!! Then I have to tip this friggin' server on top of that???). It's OK, just slide your card and Jabez will multiply your earnings ten fold …

And that about wraps up our religious debriefing for the evening (and no, not that kind of de-briefing Mr. Foley! You can be religious and off your knees, you know…). Good night!