18

What do I think I'm dong?

My good deeds come back to haunt me tonight, as I'm invited to a Christmas dinner at a Baptist camp that's about to be sold and closed. Not only that, but I can't find a reasonable way to beg out without feeling like I'm abandoning neighbors and friends, disappointing those who have counted on me. I always felt guilty even among them, the outsider, the heretic, the nonbeliever. Tonight that feeling would be worst. Without the secular distraction of work to keep things from getting too painful, that kept me tolerant last summer, there's nothing to consider tonight but God and worship - neither of which I think of in the same ways they do. I have to leave my compatriots in the world of online D&D, too - other friends that I've known for longer and felt closest to. (I don't even need to remind you that you don't tell Conservative Baptists that you can't come to their Christmas party because you're playing Dungeons and Dragons. I'd find an exorcism team on my doorstep by 8:00.)

Alas, there is no escape for this sinner.

I can't be online nearly as much as I'd like. I can only even post this much because of offline clients - when I'm through, I will disable my internet lock, gear up Trillian, then talk to my beloved or anyone else online while I check email and journals. Then I have to shut down and lock up the internet again, lest my parents run out of hours (like they've warned me three times against).

I miss independence.

I miss Mudd.

I miss Robin.

I miss my computer.

Dammit, Brian, don't sink this way. My cheese and crackers, they comfort me!

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In other news

I feel better. Except the lack of snow, but my faith in my homeland holds that it will come, in its time.

Maybe I can get the Woodbine folks to pray for it....?

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