This is the journal only my dearest beloved and total strangers get to see; it's not for the folks who see me every day, who work with me, who think the nice lady in the alb at the organ is just your basic soccer-mom-to-be or who assume that the scholarly writer who pens articles about the practicalities of Catholic ritual music necessarily likes to stay within the ritual envelope. Nor is it for those who assume that anyone who belly dances, communes with the universe, attends drum circles, is friends with pagans, etc. would be too "enlightened" to take the liturgical and theological legacy of the incredibly patriarchal Roman Catholic church seriously. This is the me who dances and covets Kuchi jewelry and teaches her children to hug trees and remember that they got their milk from her breasts, who prays and shimmies and walks labyrinths and weeps at the Mahler 2 and talks to her departed dog and writes and dreams and hates to play by the rules. This is the me I don't get to be often.