Religion and Masturbation Are Not Synonymous

"A glimpse of religion – a piece of coming closer to what intrigues me most"

I had a vicarious church experience last night. I sat in the booth of a Texas Roadhouse -- surrounded by peanut shells, 16 oz sirloins, and Middle America. Friday nights are my weekly guaranteed social interactions; even if I shut my blinds to the rest of society, and favor an anti-social reclusion into my head, Friday night assures a step out of isolation -- a free dinner and film. My Friday night partner: my unmarried and childless uncle. This man has led a colorful life, but is conservative with his confessions (unlike my nude and veracious disclosures), and I sit in anticipation across from him for a spill of writing material to pool on the table. Last night as I munched my grilled chicken salad (I want to live to be 100) he tells me that he has begun attending church regularly; but not the Catholic one of his youth. A chunk of lettuce falls from my lips, honey mustard dressing follows suit, and I question, a mouth filled with food, "Oh?" Church does for men like my uncle what the NFL, writing, and children do for the rest of us – they give us a purpose knotted with meaning.

He asks, "Would you be interested in coming one Sunday?" My mother's presence eluded me as I usually find her buried beneath a textbook in an attempted escape from her white trash roots, but then I felt a kick under the table, and I see my mother's blue eyes roll to the ceiling and back around. I grabbed the handle of my XL Bud Light and gulped. Fortunately the sentences that left his lips next supplied this skeptic's sinner soul with a valid excuse -- I cannot afford church.

My brothers and sisters, my debt burdened holder of a three digit checking account cannot heed the wicker basket pleas for donation. My grandmother gives these words of advice regarding church donations: give as much as you would to see a good film. My uncle decided on $10, and $10 every Sunday is far too expensive for the unemployed. You say I should get a job? Yes, I agree, but I would rather not accumulate more debt in the name of the Lord, but only for online shopping and shoe sales. I quiver over the thought of being the one who passes the donation basket to her left/right without placing monetary funds inside the braided sides, or worse, the one who places a white envelope in the basket while my neighbor's question its content.

In a tribute to the sinner in need of confession let us now jump from saint to wicked – more specifically sex. Sex is my muse, not the act, but the thought. Before I belly flop into my stories -- too inexperienced for the dive -- I stretch my limbs out on my bed, each reaching for their post, while the sounds of sex music gyrate through the room.

Sex music: any music that evokes images of physical passion. This morning it was "Numb" by Portishead.

If I am feeling especially imaginative I close my eyes and pretend physical pleasure. I realize this must sound like the deprived thoughts of one without the experiences of opposite sex petting. I assure you this is not so in my case. It saddens me to inform you that this play is not pornographic, nor is it fit for erotica. It is the sappy sensual side of sex only an overly-sensitive girl such as me would enjoy. I prefer on screen sex than I do the real thing. You can imagine my disappointment when I discovered they are not synonymous. Sex on screen is art, and in the bed of reality it is sloppy and lacking a soundtrack. It is only within the bed sheets of imagination that it can be reproduced. My niche is in the field of cinematic sex consultation. I'm moving to Hollywood.

When experiencing a creative block, whether due to a hangover or excessive outside temperatures, I allow myself to become the female character in the story, and my fingers those of the male. It is not as disturbing as it may seem. You must switch from literal to the figurative. It is a mental masturbation if you will.

In fact I think I will engage in some mental masturbation now.

"Give me a reason to be a woman"