First of all: This re-reading the Bible thing is going to take a LOOOONNNNG time. I’m not even halfway through Genesis and I’ve already got about 10 pages of notes and questions. Yes, I’m taking the Bible for what it is, reading it in order. All I can say is I’m remembering why I got into reading it in the first place.
Oh, the questions, the questions…and how utterly strict and crazy the times were that Genesis portrays.
Seriously, no room for error, mistakes can’t be tolerated, and God gets angry and kills everybody but one family and a boat full of animals.
Ugh… and to top it off, Noah gets drunk and naked, one son sees and tells the others, and then he gets cursed for looking at his dad naked.
Yeah, total accidents screw up whole generations that will come after you. That sucks.
I doubt the son wanted to see Noah passed out and bare naked and just stared. I’m sure this was the more accurate reaction:
Was just supposed to “un-see” that, and maybe not tell anybody what happened to dad so they could walk in on it, too? Ugh.
I haven’t done a comparison reading with my NIV version yet to double check what was going on, but let’s just say that so far I’m seeing lots of judgment, anger, and instant prophecies that are meant to explain why certain cultures will share in certain good fortunes or bad.
It feels like reading Nostradamus and fitting an event in after the fact. Cutting a piece to fit in the puzzle hole just right.
Anyhoo, I had to take a break from it and clean today, and was so tempted to go for my atheist literature on the shelf.
Today was spent waiting around and finally going to the grocery store when I got hungry. I did need to clean, though, so that wasn’t too concerning. But I was again waiting to see if my dad’s old friend was gonna show up, and I got no phone call or arrival.
Yeah, I spent a good chunk of time working on another jigsaw puzzle, checking e-mail, and listening to The Thinking Atheist after I got back from the grocery store. And that made me mad in a way.
I’m not sure how that worked, but between listening to podcasts about questioning and free-thinking and waiting on dad’s old friend, I just got it in my head that I didn’t give a damn, I’m going to get the hell out of the house next weekend, at least for a Sunday.
Or even some other day. Time to go browsing for better things to do, people to meet and greet. I’m done with entertaining the dogs and sitting on my butt trying to make the day go faster.
I think part of it was the usual bane of my existence on Sundays–thinking too much. The phone call from dad’s friend last night made me a bit mad in one sense because he kept repeating how much he missed dad, that he was his best friend. At one point, he mentioned how he thinks he was the only one crying at the funeral, and noted that even I didn’t. He said that must’ve been because we were mad at each other and not talking.
Yeah, I just wanted off the phone after that pretty quickly and got the subject changed somewhat, only it went to more annoying waters, namely if I called my aunt and uncle to get some stuff from them.
The biggest issue that I really want and NEED to lay to rest is guns. My dad had an extensive gun collection and when he died and I went to stay with my uncle a while, my uncle cleaned out the safe and took the guns with us (paranoia about break ins or cops getting them, apparently). They’ve been at his place since July because at first we were all gonna live together, and then I decided not to have them live with me (that whole crazy story, you know), and when I was moving I had dad’s gun safe in storage for four months. Besides, the moving companies won’t haul a gun safe with guns and ammo in it.
But we also weren’t talking a while. My uncle was helping me sell some of dad’s reloads, and got me a couple boxes of ammo from my own pistol out of it, so it worked out okay.
But dad’s friend’s bugging me about helping sell dad’s guns. And I tried last weekend to contact my aunt and uncle and neither responded. Maybe they didn’t recognize my number and just didn’t pick up, but I’ll leave another message tomorrow.
Either way, I’m gonna get this crap resolved.
I hate guns. I really do. I got the one I need. I’m not an octopus, so having an arsenal doesn’t make sense. I also don’t hunt, so I’d rather get rid of the rifles.
Dad bought ’em because he liked ’em. They were an investment of a sort…and I’m gonna get rid of them legally as fast as I please.
But it makes sense to put them in a more secure location than somebody’s hall closet, too, in the meantime. Right?
I’m paranoid about guns and the legality associated with them. I want them to have the proper documentation, the right paper trail to ensure that they’re officially out of my hands (and dad’s name) before going to the next buyer.
That’s my whole thing. I’m sure I’d get less than at a private sale, but I don’t care. That proper paper trail means a helluva lot more to me. And I plan to do some research so they can’t low-ball me just because I’m female, dammit.
The bottom line: they’re mine now, and I’m going to get them back and sell them myself. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can get people off my back about selling them or giving them away or whatever. I’m tired of people telling me what to keep or sell or whatever with what’s now my stuff…even if it was dad’s they’ve got no say so. I just hope I’ve got dad’s inventory sheet of which guns he still had and which he sold before he passed and it’s accurate, because otherwise I could be robbed blind and not even know it by my own family.
And I’m paranoid enough to think that’s possible…and it makes me sick that I could think that.
But that’s why I want to get this gun thing resolved and done with, too. Get ’em, sell ’em, move on with my life.
That’s been on my mind the past month, and I’m so damned sick of it. It’s bad enough that my dad’s friend still thinks he has a say in things because when I was seven years old, he was named as executor of dad’s will. Dad changed that eventually, going back and forth, but I doubt there can be more than 1 executor.
I’m just tired of all of this. I have a feeling that once the guns and most of dad’s goodies are gone, people will be leaving me alone again because they won’t have any carcass left to pick at. I’m sure as hell not handing anything over for nothing, not anymore.
That’s been the trickiest part of all this–I’m crazy alone and I hate it, but the people I know around here, I’d just as soon prefer to lose. Family and I are super-strained and other than my next door neighbors and my S.B.C., I don’t have anybody to talk to or trust.
It’s like I said: he’s my dad’s friend, not my friend. And since I’m in the deep end trying to start a new life for myself and naive as all get out, I’d rather just wipe the slate clean and get new friends. Learn how to make friends.
That’s where The Thinking Atheist comes in.
In an attempt to find some people my age to hang out with and get to know, I’d considered finding a church around here to go to. I nearly always have Sundays off, but the idea of going to a church kind of makes me ill. My belief in Christian teachings, the Bible, and other stuff vacillates between shaky and non-existent.
I don’t want conversion, and can’t stand being preached at. More than that, I’d feel like a hypocrite, like a woman who goes into nursing school just so she can find and marry a rich doctor (I’ve actually bumped into a few of those…thought it was a bad soap-opera joke til recently).
Also, every time I think about church, I get this lingering paranoia that I might be stepping into a place that talks about the prosperity gospel or is full of young earth creationists. No thank you, not for me. I’d be out that door so damned fast it would be ridiculous.
And I’d rather read the Bible for myself and the shelf full of books on Christianity first, anyway.
No, but there are groups out there for freethinkers. I’d not really understood what that was before I started listening to The Thinking Atheist, and though I’m more of a Questioner, “my kind” are supposedly welcome in that type of get-together or friendship circle.
I’d be willing to give it a shot. I’m sick of religious judgment and wouldn’t that to be a defining characteristic in a friendship or relationship. I’m tired of being alone and need more friends…and it’s a damned good excuse to get out of the house for more than just shopping and work.
I’m hoping next weekend’s outlook will be much brighter.