I love you, my bunnies...

I changed the blog template because I really am a springtime (actually more a late springtime) person but don't think all of those flowers make me a hippy happy quiet soul - because I am not.

And it's because I wanted to wish Happy Easter, but it feels a bit strange in these times of catholic crisis...

Me, I am just a recovered Catholic, like my maid of honor, and I kind of had problems with the Church from the very beginning.

That is because I don't let anyone tell my which WAY I have to go.

But let's start from, let's say...Sunday school.

This is when I first met nuns (as an abstract object). I do remember very well this old lady asking everybody if they ever went to church and of course everybody went to church, because their parents were church people.

My parents never were, especially my dad...so what I could tell was, more or less "On Sundays my parents sleep".

It must have sounded like heresy, but think about it: they were both waking up every morning very early, didn't they have the right to sleep longer on weekends?Now that I am a parent I tell you straight: they had that right.

But the nun, shocked, suggested I torment my mom and dad until they bring me to church on Sundays and me, the innocent child, wanted to be like all the other kids. 

My mom was probably ok with that, thinking it might do me some good to hear the word of Jesus- not that I had been a bad girl, but there is always  improvement (...).

From then on I started going regularly to the Church, pushed by the next teacher in Sunday school, who was a relative of mine (distant relative, of course).

When I was a teen I really enjoyed mass, for two reasons: I would meet with my best friend and we would sing some of our favorite songs - there are some church songs who make you feel good, especially around Christmas time. Anyway it was fun and all the different Sunday school teachers - after this relative of mine - were very nice and funny and they organized little events like concerts for seniors, which made us feel better kids.

But then, then it all started getting tough.

Sunday school was less and less interesting and service was mass boredom.

Also, I became more and more myself and there were things that I didn't like anymore. Like that priests would openly criticize homosexual people during mass. It was obviously a sign that our society was becoming more open on one side and totally preoccupied on the other side - terrified is a better word I think. It was like Church was seeing that the ideal family they so much emphasized wasn't a truth anymore (did they ever have a clue anyway?) and they needed their scapegoat.

But, then, it sounded all so silly. Now it all starts making sense.

In my "catholic career" I met many nice priests, some were the best jokes tellers, some were alcoholics (at least they really enjoyed alcohol more the a bit) and some were nice persons; two of them were actually very handsome guys. Those who made you superficially think "It's a waste they became priests". One was a nice person, the other one was an asshole (if you are a kind of Hitler in ropes  I am no forgiver!).

So, if you ask me, AT LEAST these two were clearly gay  people in disguise: instead of a coming-out they decided to announce they had a call (Lift up the receiver, I make you a believer) to keep their bigot catholic families and friends quiet.

And I firmly believe most of priests are following this pattern.

Some find an inner peace, some other don't. So we have a problem.

I am not saying that priest=bad, but if you have to bury your real self to let it come out in such a miserable and embarrassing way as it is happening now, well...then it is about time the Church rethinks itself from within and not from ME and YOU and SINNERS around the world.

You know what scares me now?Nuns.

Priest are a very small percentage of the Catholic Church (and isn't it crazy that they have so much power?) but nuns are the hidden power of it.

No, not all nuns are bad, just those who run around with their long pants when they think nobody sees them and those who don't let me read books in the train because they think the gospel would be more suited - these make me want to scream!

Anyway, my position is very clear: I respect you as long as you respect me, you can be a beggar of even the Pope, I don't make any difference.

Now I can drink my coffee with a relieved spirit.Amen.

I wish you a very nice Easter Weekend!!!