A Higher Power and Myself

After much surfing on the web, trying to find something to do I stumbled onto the topic of religion. It's something that I stumble onto quite a bit, and I thought I would post about my own thoughts about religion.

Officially I say that I'm an atheist. This is because I personally have some serious problems with religion as a whole and I believe that God and religion go hand in hand. Some people believe that it is possible to have faith in God and not believe in a certain religion. For a while I tried to be this person, I tried to have faith in God without believing in a religion, but eventually found that I couldn't. I believe that religion defines God and without religion and its customs and traditions, you cannot define God. And that makes me uneasy, because I don't like the idea of believing in something that cannot be defined. So I choose not to.

I that I am officially an atheist, but I am not really one in terms of definition. But I don't really consider myself an agnostic either. I am not completely sure that there is no God, but I don't believe in a God. But to be honest, it's not something that's a big part of my life. To me religion is as important as my sleepwear. Sometimes it's important, but most of the time it usually not integral to the fabric of my being.

That being said, I feel that I should provide some background in my own experiences with religion. My father was raised Catholic, but is not a religious man himself. Religion was never a topic within our dynamic as father and daughter and not something that we ever discussed in depth. My mother on the other hand is a completely different story. When I was younger she was essentially looking for a religion to be part of her life. She felt that it was important and was looking for the right fit for her. (This included a short stint at the Church of Latterday Saints, which most people recognize as the Mormon faith. I am glad that she did not become a Mormon.) Eventually she became a Jehovah's Witness.

My mother would lapse in between periods of being very faithful, to being not so. It was an odd balance, and eventually she found a compromise between these two urges. She still attends church every Sunday, but has stopped going to every event that the church holds.

When I was about thirteen my mother gave the choice of continuing to go to that church or stop going entirely. To this day I am profoundly grateful that she has given me this choice.

That's a Pleasant Mental Picture

My brothers have twisted, twisted minds. Somehow a moderately disgusting trading of insults led to the discussing of our parents' sex lives.

Normally people would stop at the barest mention of their parent's sex lives. But not my youngest brother. He has no boundaries.

The conversation involved the personal grooming that our mother may or may not do. ("She doesn't use a douche! She uses a Q-tip!") Whether or not my parent still have sex despite having been separated for nearly fifteen years, their masturbatory habits ("She calls it Big Bob and throws it behind the television when someone enters the room!"), and whether or not my father hires hookers.

Thanks for the mental pictures baby brother. You have scarred me for life.

Maybe You Should Start

My father called me in the morning with the strangest question: "What's your bra size?"

It's certainly a strange question to hear from your father. But I told him anyway. Turns out that he was just buying me a couple of bras.

...

I honestly don't know how to feel about that. It's a little weird, but very thoughtful of him considering that I had mentioned that some of my bras were getting old and stretchy and therefore defeating the purpose of wearing them at all.

It was nice of him to think of me.

ETA: When I mentioned to him that I didn't wear bras with underwire, he said "Maybe you should start."

They ache a bit.

The Obligitory First Post

So this is the blog. I've tried to start others before, but have never had much success. It's a need to be recognized, and it's a crappy reason to start a blog, at least it is for me. I'm not good with doing things, but thought this would be a good way to express myself in a way that I am unable to do so in real life. By airing my dirty laundry for all the world to see.

This blog is going to get me into trouble. But at least it's cheaper than therapy.

On the name:
Mari-Cris is something that my grandmother calls my mother, considering that her first two names are Maria Cristina. My grandmother sometimes calls me this as well. The blog name is an homage to my mother, and the hardships that she has endured in order to raise me and my two younger brothers. The relationship between my mother and I has been rocky over the last couple of years but has bettered as I grew older and she has gotten to know me better.