Signs That You May Be A Pagan

You Might be Pagan If ...

You know the term "fluffy bunny" has nothing to do with Easter.
When you're sworn in in court, you bring your own grimoire.
You've been seen talking to cats. They talk back. You understand what they're saying.
When asked if you believe in God, you ask, "Which one?"
You know what "widdershins" means. You apply it.
You have an entire spice cabinet and you don't cook. You know that laurel and bay leaves are the same thing.
You have a frequent buyer card at the local antique bookstore. The proprietor of said bookstore picks out anything to do with the Celts and saves it for you.
You think Mercedes Lackey should be a cultural icon.
You know that there are exceptions to the laws of physics. You've caused them.
The first thing your guests say is, "My, that's a nice... altar... you have there."
On Halloween, you yell "Happy New Year!" at passers-by.
You know that Christmas trees were originally pagan symbols. That's why you bought one.
You have friends who say they are elves. You believe them.
You commit blasphemy in the plural.
Upon dying, your first thought is, "Darn it, not AGAIN."
When you say "Mother Nature," you don't mean it in an anthropomorphic way.
Gaia is NOT the lady on Captain Planet.
You think The Mists of Avalon should be a religious text. You use it as such.
In Religion 100, you were disappointed because they didn't cover YOUR gods.
You know that there is a right way and a wrong way to draw a pentacle. You can explain the difference.
You've spent the last year and a half looking for a familiar.
You talk to trees. They talk back.
You know dragons and fae exist. You've seen them.
Painting yourself blue, spiking your hair, and dancing naked around a bonfire sounds like large amounts of fun.
You've seen "The Craft." You know where they were making stuff up in "The Craft." You have explained this to other people. You can do it better than they did it in "The Craft." You know it's a load of crap.
You understand the symbolism behind a maypole.
You've ever ended a phone call with "so mote it be."
Your children go around telling people that "the Goddess loves you."
You consider unicorns to be an endangered species.
You commonly (and frequently accidentally) call the days of the week by alternate names: Sunday, Moonday, Tyr's Day, Woden's Day, Thurse Day, Frigga-Day, Satyr Day.
You keep wondering what year this is, as that whole time-travel thing has you confused.
The Futhark or the Theban alphabet (one of them) was the first alphabet you learned to write.
When someone says they have a headache, you pull out White Willow Bark and a Crystal Healing Kit.
You wonder why the Pope doesn't have any concubines in his position of obvious power.
Your candles outnumber your light bulbs.
Your telephone, computer, radio, television, or other electronic device is in a spot where you can protect the rest of the house from it.
Your telephone, computer, radio, television, or other electronic device is in a spot where you can protect them from the rest of the house.
You feel inclined to dance around and/or jump over a campfire, and keep piling wood on it because it's not a proper bonfire.
You go on religious pilgrimages that end up in or pass through (with a stop) any of the following: Nepal, the Burning Man festival, the woods (nearby or not), Stonehenge, the Pyramids or any other place with a usable pyramid, Salem (Massachusetts), Eerie (Indiana), Avalon, Atlantis, anywhere where there are standing stones or burial mounds, any cave with drawings older than the nation it's in, or pretty much any place wild.
You really do wonder why the faeries keep hiding from you... after all, you're one of them.
You keep getting mistaken by religious zealots for someone Satanic, or you are directly called by these same zealots a "devil-worshipper" or some such.
You like the movie "The Matrix" for its philosophical content more than its technological aspects.
You dislike the Christian Bible because it's "way too strict for fun-loving people."
You can accurately quote the Bible better than your Fundie neighbor, relate said scripture to parallel sources in other cultures and religions, and rebut it all from quotes of the Seth books or material you have channeled on your own.
You constantly wonder why all the decent people in the world are in hiding.
You never blow out your candles because you consider it an affront to the element of fire. Your kids have to snuff out their birthday cake.
You don't keep your hammer in the toolbox.
The last time Jehovah Witnesses came to your house they ran away so fast they forgot to leave any pamphlets behind.
Your friends talk about "WitchCraft" or "The Occult" among themselves and then aren't surprised when you give them a referenced, coherent, well-formed explanation for whatever they were talking about at the time, from memory.
People who you vaguely recognize ask you to fix deeply personal problems so they don't have to do it themselves.
You're reading this page. You understand what it's talking about.
You have argued for the acceptance of Paganism as a mainstream religion.
You honestly didn't understand what Jerry Falwell was blaming you for, or why he has such a problem with your beliefs.
You write your philosophy papers comparing the beliefs of Gerald Gardner and Aleister Crowley.
When people ask "What's Wicca?" you are genuninely shocked that they have never heard of it.
Instead of singing "God Bless America", you change it to "All the Gods Bless America".
You can point out exactly where Silver RavenWolf is inaccurate.
Your home doubles as an evergreen wood or rain forest.
You know that Ragnarok is not a heavy metal band.
You keep referring to the Bible as Christian Mythology.
You keep talking about how Jesus had the perfect coven of 13.
You make arguments that you are not a Neo-Pagan but a Reconstructionist Pagan.
You cheer when watching Marilyn Manson say we must "fight the Fascism of Christianity."
You say, "Yes I have found Christ. I added him to my Pantheon only last week."
You think that Julian is the greatest Roman Emperor.
You call yourself a Vinelander.
You have to explain that you can't be a Satanist because Satanism is merely Xian heresy.
You know the difference between a Heathen and a Neo-Pagan.
You try to trace your ancestry back to Odin or Lugh.
You learn Old Norse just to be able to read the Eddas and Sagas easier.
You have multiple translations of the Eddas and Sagas on your book shelves. You've read all of them and wrote one of them. You can discuss the finer points of interpretation.
You get tired of explaining the your Hammer necklace is not an upside-down Satanic cross.
You argue that we are in cyclical time and not linear time.
You know that the Swastika was not invented by Hitler.
The phrase "It's Hammer Time" brings up thoughts of Thor.
When family members here you're not Christian, they ask if you will still celebrate Christmas and Easter. You reply, "Those were my religious holidays first!"
You refer to your religion as Celtic or Germanic.
When a Christian asks if you've found the Lord, you ask "Which one Freyr or Jesus?"
When asked if you've found Jesus, you reply: "I wasn't aware he was lost."
You don't want to go to Hel, since it's such a dark, cold and dreary place. Valhalla is better.
You've ever answered "Yes?" when someone said "Oh God" or "Oh Lord".
You don't work in a New Age/Occult shop, but you know the inventory better than most of the employees.
... and you know most of the employees
... and they call you when they have questions.
The last time a screaming, proselytizing, evangelist Christian fundie told you that you were going to hell, you just gave him a big hug and told him you hoped you could be roommates when that happened.
Somebody asks you what time it is and you look at the sky, not your watch.
Your entire neighborhood comes to you first when they have a cold, asking for a cup of your special tea.
People look at the way you're dressed and say "Nice Halloween costume!" but you're wearing your everyday clothes and jewelry.
You absentmindedly use DragonScript or Theban when taking notes, and you can speak the language it comes from as well. Fluently.
Last time you heard a Pentacostal Christian speak in tongues you winced due to the horrible grammar and weird pronounciations.
You understand what people say when they speak in tongues and have responded, arguing a point just made. (Extra points if you won the argument without using violence or shouting.)
People have introduced you to their friends as a practicing witch. You've gotten used to it.
That funny feeling in your stomach whenever you'd go to church as a kid-it wasn't a breakfast gone bad. It was a sign.
You see people reading various pagan literature and feel compelled to give commentary.
You think there's something suspiciously pagan about the way Mary Poppins comes and goes with the directions of the wind.
You're still looking for your ruby slippers.
You think a South Park episode making fun of Wiccans would be really really funny.
... and you've written scripts for such an episode, but none of your friends got the humor.
You greatly enjoy explaining your religion to the Mormon missionaries who knock on your door. (Let's face it, the confused looks on their faces were priceless.)
Every Halloween, news stations and schools call you up asking you to talk about paganism.
... and after talking to them about it, you make the mistake of giving out your email address, and find your inbox stuffed full of love spell requests.
The local church kept asking you to bring in some baked goodies for their bake sale. You brought in cookies made using a pentacle cookie cutter. They stopped calling.
You have close to a dozen (or more) quick, witty and/or cutting remarks at the ready whenever you might be asked if you're a good witch or an evil one.
After having spent 10 minutes out of doors you can do a week long weather prediction. It'll be more accurate than what the weather forecasters on TV manages.
If getting wet isn't an option and you've forgotten your raincoat or umbrella, you walk between the raindrops. That is, if the rain won't hold up a couple of minutes just for your sake.
You've been asked by your co-workers to perform a binding spell on your boss, to allow them to slack off, and you've considered how to do it without doing harm.
You spend all day trying to get kids not to run away from you whenever you talk about "Spells".