Yesterday, in church, the priest talked about her husband and grandchildren.

I love saying that.

She looks like a cross between Betty White and Estelle Getty.

There is something so real about going to Mass there-- though it takes forever! A two hour Mass, and damnit, Anglicans have a hymn every three minutes for ever blessed occasion and speech after impromptu speech. But there is something so real there. As much fun as we had last night, and at the club: I mean Maura and I because she was at church with me, we both agreed Mass was about five times as fun.

Freaks and sideshows ! Yes, I know.

It seems for years now I have felt that I was being lied to in church. I felt that everything was totally and completely real.

I've gone to the Basilica for how many years, now? And it was last night, at a gay night club, that I actually SPOKE to these people I go to church with. Went to church with. I don't get it, not really. The whole conspiracy of silence thing. I don't want to be silent. And I don't want to be in something I can't really believe in.