Terri's Cellar Door

Stuff that happens to me, Terri.

Friday, November 19, 2004


Just recently (like about 12 minutes ago) I was at a International Thanksgiving celebration. The food was great and there was this cellist named Lathazar (from Bulgaria). I was physically attracted to him, but that wasn't the point. Something about him moved me and I felt the need to be near him. Maybe that's my stalker coming out, but what are you going to do? Thanks to Lucius, who I know is reading this, for going with me. No offense, about Lathazar I mean. Anyway, what I really want to talk about was the prayer. After the food was served, the pastor of this church we where at was called up and asked to bless us. It was weird, because I thought they should have it before we ate, but anyway. So this guy comes up and asks us to bow our heads. We were sitting across from this older couple, the husband kept trying to drag me into conversation, and I kept dragging myself back out, kicking and screaming. That's just way I am, the guy was nice enough, but I just don't do conversation. So, you remember when you were a kid, and people would pray? They would close their eyes, and bow their heads, and you would be able to look right into their faces and they wouldn't have any idea that you were doing it. As you got older, you probably have stopped doing it, because you don't have ADD anymore and can sit still for a couple of minutes. So tonight, instead of closing my eyes, I looked around while the pastor was praying. I looked at all the people around me and didn't even have to worry about them looking back. There were several others like me, looking around. A few, not that many really. I felt like I was in some secret club, and me and those few others, were the only ones who truly knew what was going on. I don't know what we knew, but we knew something. Anyway, it was prett weird. About half way through I put my head back down and wonder if others like me were still looking around, looking at me and I didn't know it. I wonder what they thought of me, what judgements they were making about me, and what they thought my life was like. Maybe I'm reading to much into this, but I felt special, just for those few minutes. Maybe that was why we did it as kids. Not just because we couldn't focus on anything longer than it takes to eat a slice of pie, but that for those moments we were members of some secret society that knew and acknowledge the others. Who could look into the faces of people that normally would avert their eyes, and for the first time, really see somebody.


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