God likes voodoo dolls.. no really!

So I think God is out to get me. I just get this feeling I'm not on His 'favorites' list anymore. Maybe not my biggest fan. Yeah, not so much.. I mean, because of my name I have this thing for God, the devil, and all things of that nature. My moniker is just a play off of my name, or the opposite of my name and I don't mean anything by it..really God, NOTHING..it's a joke.. you know jokes, right? And I know I've got a mouth like a sailor, but you'd think, hey, He invented language, He's certainly heard everything under the sun, um.. literally, and God's been around a looooooong time. I'm betting He doesn't shock easily..

But I imagine Him up there, in Heaven, where God is supposed to be, and getting bored with hearing the same old choirs of angels He's heard since oh, the beginning of time, and wondering why the hell the angel Michael doesn't just change it up a bit - add in some funk or some J. Timberlake - he's got some moves you know, but Michael gets snippy when anyone asks for requests. So God is just sitting there, unsatisfied, and then He remembers His voodoo doll. Yes I said it. His voodoo doll. What, you don't think God believes in voodoo? How do you know? He does, ok?! And He calls over St. Peter and shows him this little voodoo doll, which He quickly labels with my name and says, 'Hey Pete, get a load of this!' and then stabs me violently in the nose and throat and you know what? He gives me a cold.. a big ol stinking - well not that I can really smell anything - coughing, aching, sneezing COLD. Meanie.

You'd think with a name like Angel I'd have the best 'in'.. like, forever. Not that He owes me anything.. not saying that, God. Just.. you know, saying.. I mean, we, meaning God and I, should have a special relationship...where He'd look upon me with a fondness like few others, like Jesus, or close to it.. like if Jesus had a baby sister.. or.. something. I mean, 'angel' means messenger of God for chrissakes.. so um.. where are my friggin messages?? Don't tell me it's in this little cold You sent me cuz all THAT clearly says to me is 'hey, better find the Kleenex and the Alka Seltzer Liqui-gels!'

And I'm sure You think this is all very funny.. yeah yeah, I can hear You snickering up there.. You know, You should take that act on the road.. no, really, not kidding. You're hysterical. Seriously.

God knows this is my week of rest.. the only one I've had in ages and you'd think even He would be getting tired of my whining - but um, apparently not. It's getting down to the wire and the days of the LAST MOVE OF MY LIFE this month are quickly approaching - like TOMORROW - and He AFFLICTS me with a friggin cold. Like I don't have a big enough cross to bear or anything! I know, I know.. there's a parable I read once (probably in some Christian related propaganda like oh, in the days I was forced to go to church cuz I was small and didn't know Catholics are um.. hypocritical at best, but that's another story), about a man who prayed to God saying his cross was too heavy and he couldn't bear it any longer. So God, being His loving and compassionate self, answered his prayers and offered the man another cross of his choosing. The man was very relieved, of course. So God took the man to where all the crosses were - possibly blindfolded and to some undisclosed location I'm sure cuz God doesn't want just anyone knowing where the crosses are kept.. cuz then there'd be stealing and black market prices and suddenly crosses would be the thing and Paris Hilton would have to have one.. and that'd be some sort of blasphemy.. or anarchy.. and He'd have to send us swarms of locusts and frog rain and somewhere there'd be a bake sale and a pancake breakfast.. and well, you get the picture.

So, my point.. and I DO have one.. so be quiet.. is that this cute little man is shown the room with all the crosses and sees this tiny one, way in the back corner. He points to it and tells God, 'That one, that's the one I'd like.' God, all parental and understanding, then lays the obvious on the poor sap and tells him, 'That's the one you just brought in.'

Isn't that a wonderful story? Doesn't it just warm your friggin HEART?? Didn't you just learn a BIG lesson right THERE in those LITTLE WORDS?? I know, you did, didn't you? Of course.. cuz God is great and good and kind and loving and omni-allkindsofthings.. and I would agree with ALL of that. Really I do God.. true story! But then why strike me down, right when I'm trying so very hard to pick myself back up, and You pick on the very tiny and cute and big-eyed sweeter than all that's sweet Angel and give me a friggin COLD?? Why? Why?? Right in the middle of all the very very important things I HAVE to do??

[silence]

Yes.. all those were rhetorical.. right..

See? He just gives me the silent treatment thinking that I'll figure it out I guess. It's not like I won't.. cuz it's not like He made me stupid or anything.. just you know, absent-minded sometimes.. and clumsy.. but maybe we need some family counseling to open the lines of communication. Maybe a night of seances or deep entrancing meditation or, I don't know.. maybe TALKING IN TONGUES WITH SNAKES to get thru to Him?? Cuz I tell you, the kicking, screaming, and crying til I'm blue in the face is definitely not working. Yeah, all my usual tactics don't work on God.. I, um, think He can see thru them. Unlike my mother.. whining does wonders with her if I lay the groundwork juuuuust right. Oh, don't look at me like that.. if you only knew my mother - trust me, I'm owed a tad bit of spoiling for some friggin talented whining.

But fear not (cuz I'm sure you were just sitting there, shaking in terror for my very life, right, right), I'm calm, I will not worry, I will prevail, I will TRIUMPH! I uh, sorta have no choice. Tomorrow will come, meds will be swallowed (I swear, that Alka Seltzer Liqui-gel stuff, if you can find it, works like a charm, tho you'll be a tad loopy - but hey, a pain-free noggin and actual BREATHING are good!), and boxes will again be loaded and unloaded, walked up and down 83-THOUSAND stairs and out of and into strange and new and soon-to-be-old places.

And tho irritated by this maddening situation, don't think I'm not grateful for this new place and (crosses fingers) great new roommates and all the yucky that happened that led me to this new and better situation. Really. Soooo thankful! Like BURSTING with heaps and heaps of appreciation! Honest! But um.. God? Yeah, just one thing.. um.. will You please PLEASE, put the doll down now?