Today I went to church looking for answers to all the stress and anxiety and negative feelings I’ve been feeling lately. I was in a very good mood for about 10 minutes after I woke up while I was getting dressed. Then I went and asked my dad if I could take my mom’s car since hers was in the way and he rather rudely told me no and I should take my car. SOOOOO, I was going to just put her car in the street, as it was the most logical and easiest option (my car is always in the garage) and my dad followed me out and said he’d put HIS car in the street and then I could just move my mom’s car in his spot. Honestly this pissed me off even more. He didn’t have to get up from napping because it literally would’ve been so fucking easy to just put my mom’s car in the street instead of moving two cars. Just. Fucking ridiculous.

So I got myself to church. I rushed. There was no reason to, as always, as the whole standing up sitting down making crosses over oneself thing was still happening for a solid 20 minutes after I arrived at like 11:10. As I said, I went searching for answers. I got none. I couldn’t quite hear what the pope was saying (as usual) and the guys in the foyer where they sell candles were being loud as fuck and talking and banging shit around. It only aggravated me more. However, I did notice while trying to recount how many times Jesus is painted on the walls (18 last time I remember) that the painting of him that is right above your head as you walk into the church – he has a triangle (pyramidal if it were 3D) halo around his head. It’s the only one like that. I found that highly interesting and spent quite a bit of time pondering why only that painting was done like that and why it was done like that at all. 3 is a very powerful number, that’s for sure. I have a multitude of theories about it, but I’m not going to expound.

So while I didn’t get what I wanted in church, after hitting up Meijer, I decided I’d go to Ferndale to the Boston Tea Room because it’s always calming in there and I generally feel at peace. I was hoping I’d find some new stones to add to my growing collection. Instead I found a pair of sterling silver bee earring studs (for only $6.25!) that I attempted to use as nose studs but found the gauge to be too big. I also decided to buy Buddhist mala prayer beads made of cherry quartz. So in a way, I did add new stones to my collection. I’m still a bit bummed I didn’t pick up the ombre citrine set while they still had it. I’m half tempted to go back and get the lavender jade set, but I need to be conserving my money, once again. This was a spiritual thing. I bought them to find peace. I don’t need more.  Although I will probably get more in the future, I’m sure. In a way, I made my answers today.

I still feel discord and I’m trying not to let it get to me. Inner peace and tranquility brings forth outer peace and positive energy. You are what you think. Etc etc.

Church and Crystals

Remember the last time I went to church and blogged about it? And I mentioned there’s a chandelier in the center dome that’s like the size of my car? I snapped a picture of it today cause I decided I needed some Jesus in my life or something.

I thought I got there late enough today to not endure standing up and sitting down and making crosses over myself, but apparently 11 AM is still early cause the pope didn’t start talking until 11:35 and I was like sweet baby Jesus and kept looking at all the paintings of the saints and once again thought about aliens and what I learned about saints and architecture in my art history classes.

I hit up downtown Ferndale after and had a lovely time down there by myself. Although winter is really depressing cause there’s like no one else walking around willy nilly. I bought some new crystals (and a pendant) and a really legit cutting board that I don’t have a picture of (yet). I also bought energy chunks and date and coconut rolls from the Natural Patch.

I plan on exploring downtown Ferndale more in depth in the future. I know there’s more to it than just the west side of 9 mile, but I kinda feel like I need a buddy to do it with, you know? Same goes for downtown Berkley and downtown Birmingham. I’ve explored the majority of downtown Royal Oak though. Baby steps!


So this morning I was woken up around 8 in the morning by the sounds of someone HAMMERING for TWO FUCKING STRAIGHT HOURS. Up until about half an hour ago. So like 5 hours today, hammering, coming from a neighbor. I wanted to hammer their face for that long to see how they liked it.

On the bright side, I woke up around 9:30 and had time to get ready to…dun dun dun: GO TO CHURCH. That’s right. I’ve been wanting to go to church for about a year. Literally. Since I got Netflix and watched Mr. Bean episodes where he’s in church and I was like, I kinda miss the smell of church.

So I went today. Got there at 10:40 thinking I was close to hearing the sermon. Nope. Fifty minutes later, after being enamored as always by the amazing and beautiful art all over the place and the massive 6 tiered chandelier hanging from the center dome, I finally got what I wanted. And I literally, literally, only understood one phrase from the entire thing: Prayer is the gate that opens us up to God. In Romanian, of course. But most of the reason why I only heard that is because everything echoes in the place and the pope doesn’t speak like a normal person. Like, it’s still sing-talking but less singing.

That’s the thing about Romanian Orthodox churches and priests. You get this like 2 hour ritual thing with the pope walking around talk-singing, doing stuff up there behind the altar – presumably cutting Jesus bread and pouring Jesus blood wine into a gold goblet – then occasionally coming out with a pimpin’ crucifix and waving it and then everyone does the cross on themselves. I crossed myself more times today then I have in like, this entire month so far.

Depressingly small photo of the church I don’t really go to.

And then there’s the whole business of sitting down and getting up. When the altar gates are open, we all gotta stand up. And vice versa. I was in the very last row, because I like watching people, and I was like oh god every time I saw these old people getting down on their knees and legit praying. I just feel like, it’s not that serious people. Also there were a few cute toddler kids there as well. And my friend’s mother’s ex-manfriend. Or maybe current. I’m not sure what that situation is.

Also, I’m annoyed with myself for being too scared to whip out my phone and take a picture of that giant chandelier. I mean it is literally the biggest chandelier I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and I can’t remember if it was there 6 or 7 years ago when I was last in the place. It’s like the size of my car and maybe like half a smart car. 

I also want to mention that the entire time I was there, I felt dizzy (I’ve been dizzy lately, not sure why) and I couldn’t stop thinking of aliens and the things I learned in art history about saints and architecture. And the church is celebrating 96 years next month. It was built in 1916!

This makes me want to go to temple again. In high school, my Indian friend Vishesha took me and Krista to her Hindi temple. It was lovely. I felt very welcome. And I got to eat white raisins.