Kim Priore

The non-FCCH readers are going to have to bear with me on this one, and will require a bit of explanation.  Of late, I have been dragged kicking and screaming into a little something called “40 Days of Community” ™, brought to you by the same people who brought you the Purpose Driven Life ™, the Purpose Driven Journal ™, and what I maintain *must* be out there somewhere, the Purpose Driven Lunchbox ™.  And right now you’re probably asking yourself, gee, what’s wrong with community?  Sounds like a great idea to me Kim.  Isn’t this just one more example of you being a cranky, hyper-critical bitch?  And this may very well be true.

I’m all for community, I really am.  In fact, I lived in it once for a year, an “intentional” one, to be exact, where I learned many valuable lessons that can be summed up in the Onion article entitled “Marxists’ Apartment a Microcosm of Why Marxism Doesn’t Work.”  (See especially the part about the organic peanut butter).  But seriously, I really did learn a lot, about myself, about community, about what our body of believers could and should look like.  We did it by studying the greats: Merton, Nouwen, Day, the Acts 2 community, others.  We did it not by stocking up on new books and dvds and posters, but by living life stripped down of the consumerist culture that we had known back home and looking to eachother for insights.  And I tried to bring those lessons back home with me and incorporate them into life here.  So I guess what really bugs me is the insinuation that I didn’t have “community” before this Hawaiian-shirt wearing dude came along and taught me all about it, in weekly installments of theological insights that can be summed up in 4 easy fill in the blank points that all happen to start with the same letter. 

I’m all for *real* community, not the manufactured kind.  I think Warren’s a great person who’s done some great things with his fortune, but I really can’t stand the cookie-cutter approach to life.  The one-size-fits-all, just add water, formulaic oversimplification. 

Some examples of real community, imho: friends who find comfort in a night of watching movies in your sweatpants (especially 6-hour movies involving Colin Firth, woo!); bailing one another out when you have car trouble (this mostly applies if you’re friends with JG and LT); friends who bring you Frosties and coffees; friends who are willing to indulge me in my overanalyzation of my personal life (or lack thereof); friends who are there after the wake’s over or the plane leaves.  What does not constitute community, imho: busying ourselves with a p.r. campaign to the point where we’re more concerned with what the outside world thinks of us, than those closest to us.

The small group’s been great, I really hope it continues, I hope we’re able to truly explore what real, radical, counter-cultural community looks like.  I guess what I’m saying is, the next time someone tells me we’re doing something for 40 days, I’m building an ark.

Since I know I must have an overwhelming number of male readers…ok maybe a few?  no?  Well anyways, in case I ever get any, I thought that as a public service I could provide an advice column, in question and answer format in the spirit of Dear Abby.  So here goes.

Q: Dear Kim, once upon a time you and I sort of dated.  Not really in the true sense, we more had that tragic star-crossed ships in the night thing going.  Then I got another girlfriend and didn’t bother to tell you, and let you hear it from someone else, remember that?  That was fun.  So now I’m thinking of breaking up with said girlfriend, because, in a shocking twist of events, the distance is making things difficult.  If only someone I liked before had told me that distance would make a relationship hard.  Anyways, I’m really looking for advice, I have a hard time making decisions and I’d like someone to just tell me what to do.  I thought you’d be an excellent person to ask, and I thought I would do so by calling you up while you’re studying for midterms and dropping a lot of hints and fishing around for an answer. And then inquiring about your dating status.  Don’t you think this is an excellent plan?

A:  No, you dumbass.

That concludes the Advice for Guys portion of this week’s blog.  Tune in next week when our question might be, “Kim, is waiting around forever until the fencepole needs to be surgically removed from my butt and assuming someone will still be available, in fact, the best way to display interest in them?”  Here’s a sneak preview…the answer looks much like this week’s. 

Happy Friday everyone!

Well boys and girls, I’ve been quite the world traveler lately, or at the very least, the East-coast traveler.  I don’t dare go much farther since a certain one-handed wonder who shall remain nameless is currently in possession of my St. Christopher’s medal, so it really wouldn’t be prudent.  On Thursday and Friday I was in sunny Florida…I’m guessing it was sunny, I was inside the hotel the whole time so it’s kinda hard to say.  I went there on business for one of my many jobs.  This is the one where I do research for the Bible Agencies.  That’s right, Kim in Florida, holed up in meetings for 2 days with CEOs of Bible Agencies.  What could possible go wrong?  Heh.  Well despite the multitude of possible answers to that question, I am proud to say that I was very well-behaved, and kept my liberal academic Ivy-league elitist mouth shut.  I know, right!  First time for everything.  I had to leave in the wee hours of the morning on Thursday, got to the airport in plenty of time, only to discover a mile-long security line.  At 6a.m.?  Seriously?  Ok, live and learn.  I still had plenty of time though and then….that’s right, you always knew I looked like a terrorist:  I got singled out for the pat-down (good morning!) and then they went thru my bag with a fine tooth comb.  Now I had done my homework and everything, or so I thought, I had nothing over 3 ounces and had it in a clear ziplock bag, but APPARENTLY I didn’t read closely enough, because you’re only allowed to have like 5 things.  I had like, 15.  So some poor long-suffering security guard had to stand there while I nearly cried trying to choose between like my MAC makeup and my Origins skincare stuff.  I mean could you choose between your kids?  Honestly.  I was like, I’m sorry, I know I’m being such a girl right now.  And he was like, oh that’s ok.  It’s just that this stuff is so expensive!  So by the time I was done with my reenactment of Sophie’s Choice, I had only 15 minutes till the flight left, i.e. 5 minutes till they close the door.  So this is where Kim, dancer/cheerleader extraordinaire, who NEVER runs if she can help it, breaks into an all-out sprint for the plane.  Prior to this I had been looking quite the consummate professional, in my nice purple linen Banana Republic pants and my freshly ironed and starched blouse.  By the time I arrived at the plane, I was a sweaty mess.  Lovely.

So it must have been during that time, i.e. when we moved from Sophie’s Choice to Chariots of Fire, that I ripped said linen pants.  I didn’t realize this until AFTER I had arrived at the Ft. Lauderdale airport, stopped off at the restroom, stopped in the gift shop and bought replacement toiletries for the ones I had to toss aside back in Boston, and was heading for the van with my driver.  THIS is when I realize that the hem of my pants, which before had maybe an inch-high slit on the side, was now split halfway up my leg.  Freken A.  I’m long past anywhere I can stop and buy a sewing kit.  So I get to the place I’m staying, which is a conference center run by one of the Bible Agencies, very nice but doesn’t have everything (like, for example, a sewing kit) that a normal hotel would have.  I even asked the cleaning crew, I was like, el safety-o pin-o?  No?  Gracias.  I’m like crap I am so screwed.  But THEN, I have the brilliant idea, aha!  I could staple it!  So I go down to the front desk, and I’m all, uhhh do you have a stapler I could borrow?  And the lady’s very nice, she’s all, here you go, and then I say, now, please ignore what I am about to do, and I disappear from her view, bend over, and staple my linen pants shut.  That’s right folks, a product of Wellesley and Harvard, roughly $150K worth of education stuffed inside this skull and counting, and she’s got staples holding her pants together.  Awesome.

So other than that, the Florida trip was a success and I met some cool people and got to spend some quality time with EM, so that’s always fun!  This weekend I headed up to North Woodstock, New Hampshire for the Annual Priore Family Columbus Day Weekend Leaf-Peeping Extravaganza ™.  Now new and improved, featuring Goedharts and VanderArks and Giffords, oh my!  I had lots of fun playing with the godsons and drinking beer around the campfire and staring at the foliage.  And eating.  Lots of eating.  I think I gained like 20 pounds this weekend.  But at least if I split my pants I’ll know what to do.