A woman whom I’ve always thought to be a reasonable sort of person left me a voicemail–the time stamp was five thirty this morning!–asking I measure one of the church’s banners. I went into the sanctuary with my trusty yardstick a moment ago only to discover that the banners are hanging about nine feet from the floor. I don’t know I’ll be getting to that task today. My reluctance is only partly based on my sartorial response to waking up and discovering the outside of my bedroom windows sweating like a margarita glass. There are things a lady doesn’t wear to climb a ladder. Or rather doesn’t not wear. So to speak.

I’m wearing a long skirt. Don’t judge me.

What is this, anyway, ladder week?

You know what surprises me about the whole Mel Gibson thing? Nothing at all. It’s more or less a manifestation of what creeps me out about a version of Christianity that puts Western white men in a dominant position. Power, as we’re all fond of saying, has a potential to corrupt. I’m not saying every man who exercises what he believes is “biblical headship” over his family exercises it with a baseball bat. I am saying that building a subculture of male dominance, a subcultural that grants men nearly unlimited power over his family, is building a subculture that can sometimes call assholiness holiness. And, indeed, a subculture that will attract assholes. Mel Gibson’s a public face of something, and it ain’t Christianity.

I just posted a little note on the church’s facebook page warning church members that “the lovely and talented secretary” was going to be gone on vacation and received this uncomfortable reply: You left out beautiful and when Jesus shines on your face it truly is.

If I knew that was Jesus, I wouldn’t’ve been so zealous with the loose powder this morning.

I’m trying to finish a newsletter by the end of the day. I am not succeeding, because Microsoft Word is the devil. The pastor has been helpfully peering over my shoulder, though. That’s made things much easier.

This zine may not be finished in time for my vacation. Because I’m a sucker for a handsome face. Basically. If you have a handsome face and have promised me an article that was so enticing I couldn’t tell you sorry charley and you haven’t yet delivered it, please hurry the fuck up. Everyone’s waiting on you. And, because people are silly fools, not everyone thinks you’re as handsome as I do.