Adventures of the religious sort.

Okay, so here's the thing: as much as I am a non-believer, church is a comfortable place for me. I know what to expect, generally, I know what's going to happen next and what the people will be like. And when I say church, I mean the Episcopal church. I was raised going to church on Sundays and major religious holidays. I was an acolyte and then a lay reader, I was baptised and confirmed in my grandmother's church of choice (Church of the Atonement, a tiny congregation in the town where she was born all of a million years ago). Church is safe. I even enjoy church, at certain times of the year/when I'm in certain moods. Lent/the Easter season is my favorite. Like spring, it's all about rebirth and making things new- a fresh start, if you will. So, while here, I've decided to go to church, as I was saying.
Most of the reason that I don't attend services in the US, besides the part where I'm way too busy/tired on most Sundays to bother and the fact that I don't have a car, is because religion in the US terrifies me. People who go to church regularly are becoming more and more the type of person that lives for religion. I'm not interested in that. I think that it makes people one-dimensional and boring, in addition to making them ignorant of most other things that make up a life worth living. Not everybody, but yeah, my feelings on all things religious are well known.
Here, it's much different. Religion isn't about abstaining from things and depriving yourself of worldly pleasures and not enjoying your time on earth. Religion, like everything else in Scotland, is fun. With that said, I went to a young persons' group meeting for the church that I'm planning on attending last night. The meeting was at a pub and was really just a small group of people who were willing to make me feel welcome. We talked about "church" for approximately 5 minutes the entire night. Other than that, we talked about everything else under the sun. While drinking. After the pub, we decided to go to CC Bloom's, which happens to be a gay nightclub. Yeah. Everyone's welcome in the Episcopal church. At I don't even know what o'clock, I left the nightclub with a girl named Alice, and Tom, an economist (ahaha) who are both in their mid to upper 20s. We went back to Tom's flat for "coffee" which actually ended up being a bottle of wine and some scotch (my first woo). I haven't been so drunk in a long, long while. I don't actually remember going to bed, though I do remember walking home.
Anyway, Tom's flat is in New Town, which is the other side of town. It's very wealthy, as well. Imagine the type of townhouse where you would expect to see a rich Victorian family, and that's Tom's flat. The person who owns it is the heir to the position of head of the Clan Cameron, though I didn't actually get to meet him. I assume that he's Tom's age or a little older.
Today, I got up and went to church (still slightly drunk, not gonna lie), which was a good way to pass the morning. There was a coffee hour afterwards where I met some more people and bought a ticket for the Burns supper and ceilidh that the church is hosting next Friday. Again, something terribly exciting to do.
And that has been my weekend. Also, I haven't been to church since last Easter, and I figure that I could use some spiritual cleansing after last semester ahaha.
I've heard that the weekend back home was passed with debauchery and insanity, so well done. Until next time, send me emails.

- C