Gluttony

Gluttony (Latin, gula)

Gluttony is the over-indulgence and over-consumption of anything to the point of waste. In the Christian religions, it is considered a sin because of the excessive desire for food. Medieval church leaders took a more expansive view of gluttony, arguing that it could also include an obsessive anticipation of meals, and the constant eating of delicacies and excessively costly foods.

Holy cow, does this one fit me. I have such a desire for yummys that hardly anything else tops it. And when I know I’m getting some, I totally obsessively anticipate. Actually, I’m drooling right now just thinking about it, and I just ate.

You can’t really count me in on the over-indulgence or over-consumption though – at least not by the western standard. Of course, in comparison to, say, Africa, we’re all pigs who can’t get enough stuffed into their never-ending pie-holes. But I am not one to waste. In fact, I have a very hard time throwing away food. That’s how it happens that I have eaten many things that were a different color than when they started out, or hairier. But it’s also the reason I don’t keep many “delicacies” around the house – to stop myself from making them vanish. Into thin air. Within seconds. Yes, I’m thinking of Ben & Jerry’s right now. But it also works for Indian food.

I love fine dinery (after all, I spent 10 years in France) just as much as the really bad, sugary, chemically enhanced stuff (hello USA!). But at least I know how to appreciate them both to their full value. I attach so much importance to food, really, that it’s the best way to show affection. Which is where I bring back out my yiddish side. Is anyone familiar with sitting Shiva? Or has watched Weeds recently? Maybe you’re more familiar with Grey’s Anatomy, the part where Izzy is feeling really bad because she lost a loved one, and the only way Christina (who is jewish) knows how to cope is to bring her food? That’s me. If I ever sink to an all time low, where I’m crawled up in ball on the floor and don’t speak? Well then don’t ask me questions. Don’t enquire how I feel. Bring me food. Then you’ll be my best friend.

Lust

Lust (Latin, luxuria)

Lust (or lechery) is usually thought of as involving obsessive or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature. Unfulfilled lusts sometimes lead to sexual or sociological compulsions and/or transgressions including (but obviously not limited to) sexual addiction, adultery, bestiality, rape, and incest.

Woohoo, count me in! Ok, maybe not on those last three. But otherwise, I am very fond of this subject. Actually, I have what is mostly considered a “male” take on sex. The stereotype of men always thinking about and wanting sex? Not true in my eyes. Not any more than women, anyway. But then I can only talk of personal experience. I might be considered a nympho to some (joyless conservatives), but I am definitely not promiscuous. I like sex. There, I said it. But privately, with one lasting partner. And I actually have no problem talking about sex – if it’s with people I know well. Or the subjects of my diploma thesis, because hey – that’s purely scientific. So I’m not quite sure how to write this post, since I would have enough to say, albeit not publicly.

Let’s start from the beginning: my parents always answered every question I had about sex, truthfully, but in an age appropriate manner. My guess is that helped a lot in the process of not getting knocked up at age 14. So I knew what the deal was at a fairly early age, about the birds and the bees and stuff, and I’m curious by nature, so I didn’t stop “educating” myself in that area either. I read a lot of cosmo. I learned both facts and tricks. But it wasn’t until the average age of (just turned) 17 that I “did it” for the first time. Since then I haven’t had many changing sexual partners, at least not the high amount you might expect from a sexually interested college student, but that doesn’t mean I lack experience. Quantity, after all, is not quality. And boy have I got that last part down – in all modesty.

I am not ashamed to admit that I have reached what I think is the pinnacle of my sexual prowess. The BF is all I could have hoped for – and some more, if you know what I mean… OK, enough with the innuendos, I’m not sure how comfortable he would be with this. But on this topic it goes as with anything else in a relationship – if you don’t voice it, the other one can’t just read your mind and guess what you want. COMMUNICATE. And so I’m glad that I can talk to him as openly as I need to, and that he does the same, and that we match well in that area. Very well.

At this point I’d like to close the post by saying I originally intended to write solely about The BF today, because we have been together for exactly a year and a half. And that would have been a perfect date, especially since I planned that post way too early in my writing stages and he’s been waiting. But that would have interrupted my series, and would probably be way to long for just one post. So my plan is to start another series, next week, about how totally rad my BF is. Just like I promised. :-*

Sloth

Sloth (Latin, acedia)

More than other sins, the definition of sloth has changed considerably since its original inclusion among the seven deadly sins. In fact it was first called the sin of sadness or despair. It had been in the early years of Christianity characterized by what modern writers would now describe as melancholy: apathy, depression, and joylessness. The modern view of the vice, as highlighted by its contrary virtue of zeal or diligence, is that it represents the failure to utilize one’s talents and gifts. For example, a student who does not work beyond what is required (and thus fails to achieve his or her full potential) could be labeled slothful.

This fits my mood for today perfectly. I realise I could be writing a much more witty piece on the subject, since I have years of training and practice behind me, but I’ll just stick with what’s going on today. I feel bummed, really bummed, and low on energy. I wish I could go outside and take advantage of the wonderful sun, like everyone else in the summer, but I have no vacation. And no drive. And a now permanent fear of skin cancer. But I digress…

Instead I’m battling myself in the war on learning. I am trying very hard to “work beyond what is required”, but it just seems TOO MUCH STUFF TO KNOW BY HEART (and what’s the point in that anyway?). And thus I combine both sadness / despair and the lack of diligence today. Usually I am rather ambitious. I don’t count myself to the very best or top-percentage, but I definitely want to be better than the average. Even if the average in my major, in this year, at this university, is already insanely achievement oriented. None of that usual “I’m a student, I hang around all day and empty beer kegs at night” – mentality. Although you’d think that since I’ve already been at this for 10 semesters (that’s FIVE WHOLE YEARS!) I’d know what I’m doing and should have time to throw in a drunken night or ten. Well – nope.