I had a beer or two tonight.  Not what I really needed.  At first, i just had a glass of wine.  fairly benign, I thought. then I had a bite, watched Survivor at Rodzilla's, then went back to the bar on 7B in the East Village, where I'd left Jed and Jen and Jen's boyfriend Bobbi 65 minutes ago.  Jed was gone, but James and his friend Dierdre were there.  Deej offered to buy me a belated birthday beer, and how could I refuse?  She's too nice.  She also gave me a little present.  A book.  The second book I got for my birthday this year.  Anyway, the book is Meditations from "A Simple Path,"  by Mother Teresa.  Deej wrote a nice little note on the inside.  Such a nice girl.  Anyway, I was reading the book on the subway home. Nice thoughts.  But then i started questioning all sorts of stuff about God.  Especially the idea that we're all God's children. Maybe there's something wrong with the way I pray, but the idea doesn't work for me.  Because it doesn't seem to fit with standard ideas of "good" parenting.  In the most simplistic sense, children shouldn't ever have to ask- of pray- for a parent's help.  We should trust our parents, and believe in them, because we know they're going to do all they can to help.  Ideally.  Am I missing something from the God is our father metaphor?  I'm not asking for a magical fix of all my problems.  but you know, some tangible sign of care would be nice.  And what's with all this suffering and injustice and war and disease? Is this some sort of tough love?  Or are people being punished for sins committed in a past life? And if so, what'd be the point of that?  Wouldn't it be better to punish someone and have them know what they're being punished for?  Then again, on the other side, I suppose it should be enough that I'm alive and healthy, that I have a good family and good friends and am living comfortably, nice and warm in front of a space heater and eating cheese, one of the greatest of God's creations.  Now I'm eating sugarless cherry flavored gum, one of man's greatest creations.  Soi guess the metaphor works better in the big picture.  I suppose I can be satisfied with that.  Anway, the book, what I've read of it, does have a serene sort of quality to it.  I think I'm finding it more thought provoking than it was intended to be, but that's what I seem to be getting out of it.  It's not overly religious and actually really openminded on that front.  Only a devout atheist couldn't get anything out of it.  The backcover has a passage called "Anyway," part of which reads "Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.  Be honest and frank anyway."  I like that. I'm a big idiot too.
    Anyway,  I know these aren't really revolutionary thoughts about god.  I'm just trying to work out some thoughts on the big guy upstairs.  I hope he doesn't take it too personally.
 

    I just saw a shooting star.  it was the brightest shooting star I've ever seen.  In the southern sky. It was really close.  And it burned for a long time. Really magnificent, espeically since you can barely even see stars on the New York streets.  nice night out tonight.

    Lately I've really been thinking that I'd make a great philanthropist. I've always sort of thought so, but I was thinking in the shower- where i do my best thinking- about how I'd actually go about doing it. the biggest obstacle of course is getting a ginormous pile of moolah.  I want to strictly be a philanthropist. I don't want to work for some foundation or anything. i want it to be my money I'm giving away, and I don't want to get paid for it.  That sort of defeats the spirit, doesn't it?  I want to help as many people as I can, yet keep a good amount of distance from the actual people and the problem.  Just throw money at it from afar. I've devised all sorts of methods for giving away money based on merit, like writing essays on why you need it, or more lottery-based giving, but with a twist.  Not sure what the twist would be yet, exactly, but something really dumb and stupid and funny.  I've been thinking about doing volunteer work, but that impulse is completely separate from my desire to be a philanthropist.  I'd help a lot of people on a grand scale if I could. The wrong people have the money. Sure, of course I'd make sure I was living comfortably, and make sure my parents would never have to lift a finger again, and throw a bunch of money at my brothers and friends, but see, in my fantasy there's still plenty where that came from.  Anyway, I just like to think that if I had a lot of money, I'd be socially responsible with it.  I've changed my mind about the needing distance from the people and the problems.  I don't want any middlemen. Just me and a big bag of money, and a long line of people.
What the fuck am I babbling about?
 

    I'm feeling a brand-new sort of discontentment right now. I'm not sure if it's just a new combination of things, or if it's an entirely new feeling.  Whatever it is, I don't like it. Though the novelty is of course interesting.

---

It's late.  Thinking.  Conversation I had with James the other day. Can't remember where. Probably Great Lakes.  You want to know my description of my perfect woman?
"A Subdued Free-Spirit."

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