I didn't have time to post about this earlier and anyway, I was too tired most of today to think about anything like this, but now I have time to distill my thoughts into something lucid, cogent.

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For the break that would make it okay
There's always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction,
oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

So I went for a ride with a friend on Sunday, we'll call her E. E and I headed out along small winding roads out to Piermont, NJ, out on 505 and back on 9W, up a few less than pleasant climbs but otherwise a relatively easy workout. Having exhausted my water bottle before the longest climb (ass.) and having toasted my legs in both the climbs and schlepping Class Ring up and down the stairs on the north side of the GW bridge (about seven flights of stairs in total, people), I decided I needed water before heading back to my own apartment. E, of course, invited me into her place and I proceeded to kill her Brita while we talked about nothing and changed a few tubes and tires. We talked about all sorts of junk: music, living in tiny apartments, rotations and the like. Eventually we got on the topic of things that we had to do with the rest of the day. I had nothing in particular except to feed myself, and she had to dump off a massive pile of dirty scrubs and exchange them for new ones. She also had to go to church.

I think it was at that point that a lot of points of her personality clicked for me, that made me understand what kind of person she was and what motivated her to be the kind of person she was. Let me start by saying she is good at a whole lot of things. Maybe it's already too obvious who it is already, so I will not list all the things she is good at. The floodgates opened, kinda. I volunteered that I attempted spirituality in freshman year when i went with quite a bit of regularity (!) to the Episcopalian service at St. Paul's, mostly for the sermons and for the reverend. She countered by asking me what it was in particular I liked about those sermons. I didn't know what it was. I think it was probably some combination of being intelligent and presupposing intelligence of the listener. They reminded me of the sermons at MemChurch at Harvs. So she said that I would potentially be interested in going to church with her. She invited me to join her.

I rode home, bonking along the way and got in the door and shoved as many whole tomatoes in my mouth as I could. I didn't stop eating until my jaw was tired. Tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, chicken, ice cream, a popsicle. Finally, I was done and I thought about it more and more; what was it about being 'asked' to go to a church - a presbyterian one at that - that made me entertain the thought seriously?

So i went. I ran out the door at 6:30, worried I'd be late. I wated 15 minutes for a train and cursed, arriving just on time and probably stressing my "host," E, out somewhat. I met some people. And then bam, into the church.

The singing was incredible. Of course I sat there mutely humming along, but everyone around me was full out singing. Let me tell you, even I was moved. These people had enough of a relationship with their God to impact me. Then the sermon came. There was talk of model homes, and how "we" had to be model homes for the type of life that we already knew we were supposed to live. Specifically things like sex and being preoccupied in material goods and other such characteristics that we weren't supposed to be exhibiting. Oops. I guess that makes me bad. I am, as it were, living "as if the afterlife did not exist."

So I thought about it. I thought about where I was relative to what this God - presumably my "official" God- wanted and demanded of me and I compared it to that of E. Now I know that I'd fallen off the bandwagon quite a while back. I was certifiably a "bad" person because (and I freely acknowledge this) I choose to do things that according to this God, are wrong. I choose to have sex (I'm not married) with the man I love, I choose to be an asshole to the starving and underserved, I choose to diregard almost all canonical dogma. Most days I feel I'm better off for it. Maybe Sunday I started having doubts.

I looked at E, who is significantly less of an asshole than I am (she even puts up with them and tolerates dating them), who has developed all of her gifts and is a remarkable person, and realize perhaps that following all the rules isn't so bad. Of course, there are disaster examples of those who follow all the rules. There are people who I don't envy who I'm so glad I'm completely unlike. But there are outstanding people I know who have all their ducks in a row, who have by and large followed the rules (okay, so breaking a few is excusable, i'm told, so long as you're sorry) and I am wondering if the acceptance of these rules in some sort of Faustian gamble is what I need to push me to a higher level of understanding within myself and a higher level of achievement and personal satisfaction.

I know God doesn't work like that. I know that God is ultimately displeased with the mere idea of a value-added exchange but I can't wrap my head around that. It's more than a leap of faith that I'd have to take, and it's more than just allowing this Catholic guilt to pressure me into accepting something. It's like Camus' "The Fall" (which, btw, was referred to in the sermon) - this may be the beginning of my own fall perhaps only to be remedied with the promise of an "eternal life" and ultimately in being hardballed into all of the rules that a "good" individual accepts.

But my reasons for having sex and indulging in material hedonistic pleasures are my own. They don't involve any guilt, there is no heady ideology which motivates them and I participate knowing full well they aren't everyone's cup of tea. I'm responsible when I screw around and I'm responsible when I'm an asshole; I am still a bad person. Reconciling this with the potential for being "bad" because my reasons are not divinely inspired is obviously the issue at hand.

Marriage can't be the golden yardstick for sexual contact; the definition of marriage over centuries has been constantly in flux - for a while, marriage didn't even constitute a relationship with someone you loved. Charity can't be the golden yardstick for renouncing material goods; non-profits have existed for only so long and even the most efficient charity gives only a percentage of its "earnings." So what are these rules based in? Intent? Can I intend to marry someone and because of societal restrictions as of yet be unable to and get away with sex? Can I intend that all of my money go to a worthy cause without taking responsibility for whether it does or not? Does that mean I've followed enough rules to make myself privy to the "riches" that one who follows these religous rules is entitled to?

I live well. I eat well, I have never slept on anything but down pillows with a down duvet. I love my man very much. I also screw him, and it means a lot to me, every time. I am generally considerate of other people's feelings and I give to charity sometimes but more often not. Still, I am guilty.