2001-08-24 - 9:10 a.m.
Rambling, liberal conservatism, and a refusal to pine away

Well, I'm officially completing my first week back on eight-hour days. I'm really enjoying the ability to leave at an early hour, but I will desperately miss my 3-day weekends. Wouldn't it be nice if America had a 35-hour work week like France does? And that's their maximum limit. Of course, the friend who mentioned it to me was going off about socialism in Europe and how the American experiment with shoring up the masses (Social Security) is doomed to failure, but the idea still sounded cool.

I put in my Sarah McLachlan CD today, after several months of sticking it in my bottom drawer. I felt a little brazen about putting it in my CD player at work, especially when "Building a Mystery" came on, but ... *shrug*. Working at a Christian University has about the same effect on me that my ex-fiance did: If I do not feel that something violates my moral code, and you cannot convince me that it actually does, just try getting me to follow your rules.

With the Weatherman, it was "God said 'Give unto Ceasar what is Ceasar's' and (blah blah insert other verses), so we should follow the authority he put over us, and obey the speed limits exactly." So I go 64 mph sometimes instead of 55mph ... and occasionally inch up to 70 on the long empty stretches. And on I-5 ... good grief ... try getting anywhere at the speed limit. You'll get passed even in the slow lane. I was only 19 when I dated him, and (at that point) unnerved by hurtling along in a heavy metal cage, but even then I had enough of my Dad's genetics in me to get impatient on the freeway. And no matter what Weatherman said, he could not convince me that I, a pretty cautious driver except for the speed thing, was being Evil.

Maybe someday someone will convince me of the errors of my ways. I have a fairly open mind. If someone has a really good argument, I will do some serious thinking at the very least. Probably I'll just get less impatient as the years go by. But what's youth without acting a little young sometimes? And where else can I blow off the daily tension of work before I get home? Seriously.

The alcohol thing is a lot the same. If my boss knew for a fact that I have a bottle of wine and a six-pack of Mike's in my fridge, it wouldn't matter that I only drink about one serving a month compared to my brother's one a week, I would still get fired. It's in my fridge anyway. It's not like they're going to come inspect or anything, and I can't summon up any moral indignation either way. My belief on the matter is that most things are okay in moderation. Try finding where Jesus says you can't drink. He said not to get drunk, and he also said not to lead "your weaker brothers" astray, but all that means is to limit your intake and don't be a bad influence with it.

How did I get off on this tangent? Oh, yes. Music. I still listen to Michael W. Smith and Jars of Clay and many other Christian bands, but I also enjoy a lot of secular stuff. A lot of things are like that in my life. I found beveragegirl today and really identified with a lot of what she writes, but the particular comment that is infecting my entry was her description of her "conservative liberal" upbringing. In other words, liberal with conservative elements. I think I'd describe myself, then, as a "liberal conservative."

I even enjoyed her entry on tattoos. I really want one. I would like a little blue scallop shell on my lower back. No one will know it's there unless I want them to ... but I will know it's there. It's an expression and identification of my self. The only concern I have left now is that it bars you from giving blood ... so I've heard, anyway. Oh, and my mother would be "disappointed" in me. Oh well.

I should shut up now, I'm starting to meander.

Oh! I should mention (not that anyone will remember who I'm talking about) that New Zealand Boy, who was previously Antarctic Boy, is now Antarctic Boy again. I mentioned it to Mom and she said, with this I'm-so-sorry tone to her voice, "You've given up on him, haven't you?"

Newsflash, Mom, he was never mine to give up, and I wasn't even all that attached. It was more of a mild infatuation with the beauty of a fine, young independent Christian man, who fits the "mold" as poorly as I do. He's not the most handsome man I ever met, but he was intelligent, gentlemanly, tall, entertaining, well-muscled, and flirting with ME. Of course I was interested. But it's been a year and a half since he took us rafting!

Anyway. Later.