So, I'm a Witch, Apparently

The other day somebody asked me a question about Autumn--I can't remember what.  It all runs together these days...I'm pretty sure September is designed specifically to make me go nuts--and I said, "Well, of course.  I'm a witch, after all."

Um.

What?

Then a few days later, Mrs. B linked to a story about a man in Canada being arrested for witchcraft and I got all huffy in the comments and said, "As a witch..."

Hunh?

Then that mess with the O'Donnell woman and her bloody altar picnic (bleagh)  came up and I was just flabbergasted and peeved at the joke that witchcraft was to a lot of folks.  It made me personally angry.

But the corker was Sunday night when we rented Double, Double, Toil and Trouble with the Olsen twins before they started wearing red lipstick and forgetting how to smile.  Y'all.  That movie was awful. Aw.  Ful.  Aw to the ful.  Awful, Awful, Bleagh and Awful.  Not even Will from Will and Grace  could save it.  Not even Cloris Leachman.  Not even ANTHONY from DESIGNING WOMEN could save it. 

Not only was the acting sub-par (sorry Mary Kate and Ashley), but the story was just dumb.  And it offended the poo out of me.  Every five minutes, I wound up saying, "Are you kidding me?"  or "That is soooo wrong." or "Who came up with this mess?" 

First was a character talking about a "gathering" that had gone on since the "time of the Druids and Pagans" for witches.  (Vague much?)  Apparently, this was only for the bad witches, though.  Like Cloris Leachman, who you knew was bad because she wore a lot of black and lace and had long, grey hair that she wore in a braid.  (Frankly, whichever Olsen twin wears those long dresses and clunky shoes and ratty shawls might actually have gotten her fashion inspiration here.  Just saying...)

A lot of dumb stuff happened and then we were at the gathering, where...I don't even know where to start.  There was moaning and chanting and  waving one's hands in the air like one just didn't care.  It was ridiculous and annoying and at some point in time, I said, "My witchy stomach cannot take this."  Seriously.  I don't know y'all and you might very well rat your hair and smear on black eyeliner and dress in a black lace skirt under a barbershop quartet jacket so you can wail something discordantly, and Mother love you for it.  But I'm sorry, if I saw you doing that, I have to say that I would laugh hysterically at you while pointing you out to all of my friends because you were acting the fool.  It's true.  Sue me for being narrow-minded.

Anyway, what all this boils down to is that somehow over the course of a few weeks, I've started thinking of myself as a witch.  I mean, I'm a pagan, because I'm not a Christian.  But the thing is, that's so vague and it doesn't really pinpoint how I work, what I do, or my specific world view. 

Will I tell anybody outside of this blog?  Erm.  I don't know.  "Pagan" is so much...easier for people to take, you know what I mean?  It's so much more accessible.  It conjures up images so much less...Cloris Leachman-y in Awful, Awful, Bleagh and Awful. 

I don't know if this is a step forward or back or in another direction or what.  For now, I'm just going to let the label lie quietly over me to see if it fits.  We'll see...

I wanted to remind you that NaBloWriMo starts on Friday.  I was hoping to get more Paganesque people involved, because it's a great way to get into the habit of writing frequently AND meet interesting people.  We've got a pretty big list so far, but we are woefully short on my Pagan Peeps.  So I invite you to head on over to the website and check it out.  If you're interested, shoot me an email at nothannah @ comsouth dot net and we'll get you on the list.

Later, taters.  Hope all is well with you and yours!