Thursday, November 25, 2010

the blood of christ

Happy thanksgiving.

I feel sooo damn lonely, but I know I am to blame, I mean there had been opportunities (not many, but a couple) but I don't know why I really don't want to take a chance. I get so nervous, scared, and I just think the worst. Perhaps with some time I will feel better, and be able to be friendlier. I hate that I think about the worst of myself rather than the good. I'm glad of a lot of things, but I can easily list the others. I complain too much. I need to stop. But if I don't complain in here who will I complain to? Complaining can be very therapeutic.

I need someone. I need someone to make me feel better, a friend.

I haven't drank alchol since I found out I was pregnant, so that was like almost four years ago. I've never drank wine other than white wine and didn't like it. I only drank liquor mixed with something, and beer. My parents bought a wine at the local supermarket, so I am drinking $5 merlot- blackberry flavor. It's okay.

Wine, the smell of it and the taste of it always reminds me of "the blood of christ". So right now I am thinking of the times I went up when I was seven, and eight years old to take the body and blood of christ. I had my first comunion about three months before i turned eight. I can hardly remember it. I hardly remember the times I went up. Not many times. I remember taking the body of christ, this round thing the priest held up in front of me while mumbling something I cant remember, while I open my mouth waiting for it. Sometimes (depending on the priest) he would place it on my hands and I would place it on my tongue amazed and enjoying the way it dissolved so fast. Even faster when I took a sip of the wine. Wine from the same cup everyone placed their lips on. After one took a sip it would be wiped with a a thick white cloth (which by the way was never refolded or rotated to use a side which did not wipe)  and rotated so another side would be placed on a nother set of lips until eventually someone touched a wiped set of lips. I stopped going up when I was about ten, I kinda stopped going to church when I was ten. The times that I did go would be with my family, or actually it would be only with my father, and he would be upset when I didnt want to go. So, I went just to please him. I don't remember ever confessing, not even when I was going to do my first comunion. Did I? Maybe I just don't remember. What does a seven year old have to confess about? The time I lied to my mom about taking a fruit punch she bought to class when I accidently dropped it going up the stairs making the plastic container break and the punch spill? The times I was bossy to my cousins? The times I fought with my cousins? What?