Peace is a Parabola

by Becky, Guest Blogger

An evening at home with May, Alicia, and Deena:

When I got home tonight May was still high off of yesterday’s energy drink.

So I explained to everyone how binary and hexadecimal numbers work. Though, of course, May already had a sound understanding. 

It was Time Warner Cable’s fault that the subject came up; I had to call them tonight when Super Maynard (Deena’s DVR) decided to stop working.  I explained to Ronald that our cable box had been doing funky things and he asked me what kind of funky things.  I told him that it suddenly shut off and started counting down backwards from 500 in hexadecimal.  For whatever reason, Deena found that quite hilarious and laughed during the rest of my conversation.  Ronald complimented her on her laugh.

Without the ability to watch Chess on DVR, we listened to music on my computer.

I like it when May points out key changes in songs.  I laugh every time.  And I mean laugh.  And I mean every time.

Deena got up, after some encouragement, and agreed to play the game where I choose a song and she has to interpret it through dance.  Alicia accurately observed that Deena is not just a back-up dancer.

When that got old, Deena played ringtones on her phone for us.  What’s more fun than that?  They were mostly snippets from movies that she would make us guess and then glare at us when we couldn’t.

Alicia finally left to go do something “productive”.  May followed, as it was quite late for a week night.  Deena made parallelograms with her fingers as they were leaving and called them parabolas.  I missed May when she was away last week.

The cable box is counting down backwards again, in hexadecimal.

Introduction to the Rest of the Week

If you are reading this, it’s not because I’m back (even though I am). It’s because I’ve quite enjoyed not writing for a week, and I think it would be nice not writing for a little while longer.

If you are reading this, it’s not because I haven’t thought ahead (because I have).

You see, I have these friends who are pretty awesome writers. Their words are full of power and punch and are appropriately saccharine. That’s a good thing, because I really need to cut down on my sugar intake. Maybe the caffeine, too. Well … maybe not.

So, these pretty awesome writers who are my friends, I’ve asked them to take over my blog the rest of the week. They’re guest blogging! And this is the first time I’ve done this sort of thing, but this sort of thing is the sort of thing I’ve always wanted to do, and these friends, who are pretty awesome writers as well as pretty awesome friends, have agreed to appear on my blog.

Appear, like magic? I hesitate to say no. And yes just isn’t strong enough.

Wait until you get a load of this.

Wednesday, my friend, Becky, whom you all should know and love, will dazzle and entertain. And you’re going to want more. She can crank out just about anything about anything at any time. Her post will prove that; her post will chase doubt’s shadow away; her post is like high noon.

Thursday, my friend, Andrea, will captivate you with honest legerdemain. Her voice is so distinct and rife with her personality, you can’t help but feel you know her like she’s your best friend. I have the privilege of feeling this way all the time. How you read her is what she’s like in real life. No lie.

Friday, my friend, Alicia, will finish off the week with some signature Alicia. Her writing is otherworldly; I like where I go when I read her. Her style is commanding and raw, yet polished, and it effortlessly comes from a place I could only wish to reach in my wildest dreams. How does she do it?

Lest you think these claims are specious, read for yourself. Check out their blogs and peruse their archives. Then you’ll discover that these friends can write; they can write circles around me. They often do. Their friendship feeds their writing, as well as mine; you’ll understand why it’s impossible for us not to be friends. You’ll see what these friends can do is so much better, bigger, and bolder than magic.

At Sunrise in Inwood

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“[New York] carries on its lapel the unexpungeable odor of the long past, so that no matter where you sit in New York you feel the vibrations of great times and tall deeds, of queer people and events and undertakings.”

-From Here Is New York, E.B. White

E.B. White is incredible; I’ve loved his writing from Charlotte’s Web to Once More to the Lake and beyond. This essay is one of the finest I’ve ever read. Maybe it’s because I live here, but it feels like more than that. It’s bigger than that. Please find a copy and read it, and let it nest in your heart, so that we can agree about something.

Amen.

Trinity Church - North Side by you.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Prayer of St. Francis