Both of Those Things You Shouldn't Argue About at the Dinner Table

So, I have to get this off my chest and straighten out my thoughts for next time someone feels like arguing, so here goes. Feel free to skip this post if you'd like. It's about to get all self-righteous and rant-y up in here. It probably will not be one of those funny posts.

The issue is same-sex marriage.

A little background on my involvement in the issue. I was raised Roman Catholic, and my parents have always supported Republican political candidates. I registered to vote as a Republican. Apparently, my position on same-sex marriage flies in the face of these facts. I am no longer a "real" Catholic or a real Republican. Well, I went to church today.

Anyway, here's the crux of the issue for me. I have best friends that are gay. I don't see why they shouldn't have all the same rights and freedoms that I do. Throughout my life, at home and at church, I have been taught to treat people equally, and to not discriminate against people because of their race or religious beliefs or other such factors. So why is discrimination now suddenly okay, even expected of me?

It perplexes me that something like religion (specifically organized religion) can be so edifying and yet so damaging at the same time. I personally, do not feel like the Catholic church should do my thinking for me. I don't want anyone but me to do my thinking for me. That's pretty much the same reason I'm against banning/censoring books, but that's for another entry.

Now, I will freely admit to you that the bible is not among the I think pretty respectable amount of books that I have read cover to cover. I'm pretty sure (though I am speculating) that most Catholics, especially those that are my age, will tell you the same thing. Granted, I know a lot of it from hearing parts of it every Sunday (or Saturday) since I was 3, but I don't know every verse of it. However, I thought  I had a pretty good idea of the main points in my head. If asked what the bible was about, keywords such as 'loving God', 'sacrifice' , 'forgiveness', 'tolerance', and 'morality'.  Over the last couple weeks I have realized that many people believe or demonstrate that tolerance should not be on that list.

I just want to throw this in here: this is the story that got me a riled up. http://rochester.ynn.com/content/top_stories/548125/what-effect-will-the-marriage-vote-have-on-the-gop-/
Watch it, and feel free to let me know what you think. I'll steer away from commenting on the content of the story, because I think it's an unnecessary segue that would make this blog post way to long. But I will say that you should make sure to concentrate on what the 'conservative' blogger says, what her website says, and the difference between the attitudes of the two groups interviewed. Oh man it's coming on tv again.

I'm going to end this rant here, right after I say the following: change is always hard. Change is what is going on in our society right now. In reality though, change is what allows progress. I am very proud of the progress I have made since going off to college, however, at times I feel like I'm going through a time warp when I come back home and hear that the opinions of most of my friends have not changed.

Homosexuality used to make me uncomfortable too. There was this lesbian couple in my high school who used to make out in the hallways, and it would freak me out. I would say that it grossed me out and that it was disgusting. I once told a friend she was the gayest straight person I knew. I don't think I meant it to be hurtful, I was probably trying to be funny. The problem is that only half of my sentence was correct. My friend was a lesbian, and probably struggling through high school, trying to decide when to come out. I feel bad every time I think of this incident. Another friend perpetuated a joke about one of my friends and I  being a lesbian couple to the point where we were both severely annoyed. I realize now that she has come out that this was probably a defense mechanism.  In hindsight though, I am ashamed to have said and thought these things. I am so glad that I have become more accepting over the years.

Okay, for real stopping now. Feel free to comment, and disagree if you must. But if you would, please try not to argue from a religious standpoint (because it is almost impossible to have a useful debate on this issue from that position) or from a place of your own discomfort. Feel free to share stories about  your discomfort, but please do not try to argue that same-sex marriage is wrong because it makes you uncomfortable. That is just frustrating. What if your rights make me uncomfortable? Should we debate taking those away?

Wow, it's 1 am. Well, goodnight. I promise I'll try to write something funny soon, to make up for the serious post.

The Tale of How My Favorite Shirt Became My Lucky Shirt

So I have this shirt. I quite like it. It's nice and worn in, and it has that wonderful soft worn in feel. It's grey and it says FDNY on the front in red/orange letters with blue trim. It's all faded from the billions of wash cycles it's been through, and they edges are a little frayed. I got it from the wonderful (but unfortunately now closed ) Steve and Berry's. Anyway, if you know me in real life, you've seen me wear it probably at least a dozen times. This, my friends, is my favorite shirt. I love this shirt.

Okay, now that I've made that clear, here comes the tragedy. This shirt has a hole in it. Well, actually three holes, technically.  There are  two itty bitty holes right in the middle down by the belly button area, but they're okay because this shirt is a big old T shirt so they're really not that noticeable. I think they just give the shirt some added character, like an interesting mole on a person's face. Don't worry, they're really itty bitty holes, you can't see my stomach or anything, I promise. The real tragedy is this gigantic gaping hole in the armpit seam. Like, if I lift my arm, whoa, hope I shaved recently! Now, I'm no seamstress, but it looks pretty unfixable (unfixable's not  a word? Well why the hell not?).  So with a heavy heart I had relegated my favorite shirt to a pajama shirt.

So when I was packing for Lake Placid, I packed it as such. But then, one day, toward the end of our trip, I only had two pairs of shorts left. The ones I wanted to wear that day were red. I didn't have a shirt to go with red shorts. Except...voila! Out of the bottom of my duffle (how do you spell duffle?)bag appears my favorite shirt! It's calling me - "wear me Allison, I match! Wear meeeeeee!!" So I take it out and examine it, debating in my head whether or not I should wear it, calculating how much I plan on raising my left arm, finally convincing myself that no one knows me here so it won't matter anyway. So on goes the shirt. Damn I forgot how comfy it was.  Seriously, it makes the whole world seem a little nicer and softer.

So the day goes on, and I eventually forget what shirt I'm wearing. We park on Main St. to go buy our Olympic passports, and Nicole reads some sign ahead and decides that where she is parked is free even though the rest of the street is metered (honestly I wasn't paying that much attention, parking was clearly her concern since she was driving). So in we go. Fifteen minutes and $30 later, we come out, jay walk across the street, and see a police officer standing in the general area of Nicole's car, writing a ticket. We awkwardly get in the car, hoping it's for the car in front of us. It's not. He comes up to the passenger side as tells Nicole she's being issued a parking citation. A $25 dollar ticket.

Then the cop looks at me and asks if I have family in FDNY. Now, at first I was a little perplexed, but then he points at my shirt. Ah. No, I say, I just like the shirt. He says he has family in FDNY. I stutter something like an 'oh' (if only I was more eloquent). He says he will offer us a deal. So Nicole goes off with him to pay the meter ( 25 cents instead of 25 dollars sounds real good) and I wait in the car.

She comes back complaining, and I say "I think my shirt just saved us a ticket!" Nicole says, "I know it did, he just told me that flat out."

The end.

Let's face it, I'm horrible at coming up with titles!

So here we go...haven't blogged in a while...well, not really. I've been using tumblr, which is really cool, but much different (lazier, I must say) than this kind of blogging. My friend Joanna has been bothering me for a while to write another entry - good to know someone likes your writing, huh? One problem...I don't know what to write about...I mean, I have a ton I could write about, but I don't know how to organize it. I guess I'll just wing it and see how it goes, and if this becomes a rambling Nicole story of doom, well,  I warned you.

Before I start, you must appreciate the writing conditions...my cat is staring at me. Seriously, she's creeping me out. I think she's resting for her next all out sprint to the kitchen and back (which is what she's been doing for at least 10 minutes now). Do you remember doing the shuttle run in gym class in elementary school? That's what my cat's doing, minus the little wooden blocks and with a tricky corner thrown in.

Okay. Ready, Set, GO! I went to Lake Placid, NY last week. My friend Nicole said her aunt (or some similar relative...once she gets that far into stories I'm really only half listening) had a timeshare up there and that we could stay in it for free. Let me tell you, I like free. Nicole and I were the only ones who could go, because we were the ones without jobs :(

Anyway, so Sunday morning we are supposed to leave at 9am. Knowing Nicole (chronically late) I figured it would be more toward 9:30 or 10. It ended up being more like 11, but hey, whatever. So off we went. The ride was a bit awkward at times - I mean, neither of us are exactly professional conversationalists (really, who has 5 hours of things to talk about!?) and the radio became basically useless as soon as we got out of the Rochester range (neither of us are country or bluegrass fans). Once we got up toward the Adirondacks, we got off the thruway onto this nice little state route something (86 maybe?) that ran through all these small towns, each of which had at least one ice cream place (we promised to gorge ourselves on the way back - and we took pics of each ice cream outing lol).

So we got there, checked in, and settled in to this LUXURY townhouse - I felt really stupid for having brought a sleeping bag...I mean, this place had a frickin sauna in the downstairs bathroom. That's right, It had two bathrooms, and two floors! I had totally been expecting a little camping cabin...whoops.

We had been marveling at the mountains for pretty much 1/3rd of the way there (it is kinda what the Adirondack region is known for), but that really didn't prepare me for the view FROM OUR BACK DECK! Just past the beautifully manicured golf course and across the road were beautiful, soaring, blue-green mountains. To our right we could see the Olympic ski jumps in the distance. It was breathtaking (and believe me, I don't use that word lightly...it's not really a me kind of word, but it's more than appropriate here).

I guess I'll leave the story here for now, because Joanna likes short entries lol