Lenten rose.

For a girl raised in a deity-free liberal religious community, I've got a real thing for Christianity. I think it's kind of on par with kids who are denied sugary treats in their youth becoming total candy monsters later in life, but I have some serious Christian wannabe tendencies. Especially at this time of year, the darkest point in the calendar, Holy Week. I wrote about this last year, but I think it bears repeating. Maybe it's the masochist in me, but I love the whole idea of Lent, of giving something up and really missing it. None of this lame "oooh I'm giving up chocolate" bullshit--I think Lent should be about letting go of something that really brings you joy, like smelling the flowers, or giving yourself half an hour of solitude every morning to drink coffee and read the paper, or whatever. Not that I ever actually give these things up, but I sure admire the notion.

I used to think it was because suffering was just important, something that people should learn to do because life's just such a rotten thing and you're bound to be miserable in the end. But lately I've realized this kind of giving up is about more than just suffering--it's about acknowledging that things go away. When you give something up, you recognize that you're not always going to have it. You detach from the things that give you comfort (and the things that don't) and if you really commit to it, in the end, you find that all you have left is yourself, your choices, your life. It's not such a bad way to be.

Enough philosophizing for now. I'm reading Mommie Dearest and I cannot recommend it highly enough. Joan Crawford was a DOG, man!

Clearly I've given up intellectual content for Lent too. With that in mind, I leave you with David Brent.