Home again, home again

Neat links. My type-A personality particularly loves the Schoolhouse 2 app; I promptly made course folders for this semester and I've enjoyed messing around with the various assignment/task/scheduling features. Fun stuff.

In other words, I'm back from the beach. It was a grand adventure and a good refresher course in Relaxing 101. Joey's uncles were excellent and generous hosts and Joey and I enjoyed peace and quiet together.

Today I headed up to Mark's school for Mass, carefully sitting on the other side of the church from him so as not to embarrass him. Fie on tweenhood. I saw a few teachers who are still there from the days that I ruled the school, which was nice. Mark and I went out for Coldstone ice cream after school. Despite his whiny and sometimes selfish moods, he's really turning out to be a good kid. When he's not upset about something, he's very compassionate and attentive to the feelings of others. Since when does my little brother offer to celebrate my birthday this weekend by doing whatever I want to do? He's a good listener and does what he can to help fix others' problems. And as it turned out, I made myself so invisible at Mass that he didn't even know I was there until later, so he wasn't avoiding me. He makes me feel old when he acts so grown up.

A song that spoke to me today...

All in all it's just another day now
You're falling down; what you gonna do?
Standing on top of the world tonight
No ones looking back at you.

Stand tall
It's going on, It's going on
It's gonna be just fine
You're holding on, holding on today

Lifehouse has its moments of brilliance. Music can either help me get through something or make it worse, but it's definitely a big source of solace and wisdom. Is anyone else like that, or am I just weird?

Insomnia

Why is it that when one most needs to sleep, one is most awake? There's a trick to making yourself sleep when you need to that I've never quite learned. I think it's a doctor thing. My parents are out in two seconds. Must have been med school.

I've spent most of this week hanging out with various people and quietly ignoring the less desirable tasks that need to be done before I go back to school. I wrote a few pages of my paper and read some of the first chapter of a required book, but my efforts have been rather half-hearted. My room remains in a state of total disrepair and disorganization; I have even less motivation to bother about that. The reality of all of this will likely come crashing down on me when I get home on Tuesday, but until then, I intend to enjoy Florida beaches and the company of my boyfriend and his uncles. Yay for disregarding responsibility! But is it really disregarding when I know that I will take care of it later? I'm way too type-A to really disregard responsibility. I just fool myself for a while and pretend to.

This week, in my blissful and willful ignorance of duties, I went to lunch with a woman from my parents' office and a woman from church, Pat and Carma, both of whom are delightful and fascinating people. I ate yummy pizza with Matt and Joey, which Matt paid for after we griped too much about not having summer jobs (oops and hehe). Joey and I hung out with his Life Teen friends and played a monumental game of Apples to Apples. Joey's parents cooked an amazing dinner and invited me to partake of their feast, after which the infamous Taboo team of Joey, Eric, and I destroyed the opposition team of Meghan and Mr & Mrs Grone. Tonight Mom and I met up with some Girl Scout friends for our traditional Olive Garden yearly dinner and pirate-themed birthday party (for three of the four women present). Joey and I also deeply enjoyed Grumpy Old Men, a hilarious gem of a movie that I had somehow never seen. Mark (under my supervision) made a peanut butter pie, and then we served it to my parents' prayer group. Hurray for relaxing and spending time with friends. Maybe that counts as a responsibility too. :-)

Ok, bed time. Theoretically, Joey is picking me up for our road trip at 9 tomorrow morning. Heh, heh. Hopefully we'll leave before noon and make it to the beach when it's still light outside. The beauty of our trips is we are such relaxed go-with-the-flow travelers, and we always end up having a good time. Note to self: treasure these last few days of freedom. When I get home, it will be all about getting ready to go back to school, and as much as I'm looking forward to it, vacation does have its perks.

Mmm

More for Maria than anyone else:
While picking up the fixings for a peanut butter pie I'm about to make with Mark at the grocery store, I stopped by that coffee house that has become so well-liked by certain members of my church. I am now sipping a nice frozen mocha, and I agree, mmm. The guy behind the counter was nice too. Basically, I'm just affirming that you guys have good taste. :-)

Awesomeness

Dailylit.com

Pick a book and subscribe to the RSS feed, and they send you a short segment (takes about 5 minutes to read) as often as you like, for free. I would never pick up some of the classics on the site during the year, but in these bite-sized portions they become much more manageable. I'm reading The Hound of the Baskervilles first. :-)

Random observation about myself, for future reference:
I crave security and safety, but I do crazy and silly things. I just sent a long email to someone who used to be a big part of my life, but we haven't spoken in five years. I asked if he wanted to go get coffee and catch up. Where the heck did that come from? Other examples: going to school 12 hours away, my summer service program, encouraging my family to run out to the beach amid a thunderstorm.
Official conclusion: My mind makes no sense. If I were an android, my positronic net would be fused and I would have exploded by now.

Concentrated Summer

My normally several-month-long summer has been condensed into four weeks (at least the part involving family, high school friends, and stuff like that). I feel like the all-the-rage concentrated detergent bottles. Use half the liquid for the same kick. Anyway...

My family returned home today after three days at the beach. Perhaps it wasn't as extravagant as some years (blame Notre Dame, not me...) but at least I feel like I've fulfilled my Quality Time Quotient for a while, something that is often hard to do in the craziness of being home. Wanting to spend time with everyone makes it hard to be home sometimes. We walked/ran on the beach, avoided getting sunburned (most of the time), ate seafood and pizza and fudge, drank "fancy coffee," browsed shops in the village, read our books, watched lots of Star Trek episodes, and in general did our best to chill out.

We also almost got killed in a nasty thunderstorm... fortunately no one was electrocuted. We had just arrived Monday afternoon, and we of course had to go see the beach as soon as we got our stuff in the room... so we walked out, ignoring the drizzle that was increasing to a steady rain. It was about a two minute walk to the beach, past the pool and under trees. We made it to the beach, took note of the large and angry-looking storm clouds behind us, and hunkered under one of those metal-framed pop-up canopies some wiser family had abandoned. We were pretty much soaked and the beach was deserted. The choice was to try to make it back to the condo thing, through the rain now coming in sheets, towards the quickly-approaching lightning, or hope that it would blow over our heads momentarily. We stuck it out, playing it brave for Mark, with Dad chancing touching the metal frame once in a while to keep the canopy on the ground. It was pretty much incredible, especially because no one got hurt. Good times.

I've been busy trying to catch up with my high school friends too. Margy, Liana, and I met for Chickfila lunching goodness, and I saved Christine from agonizing over the finals for her summer classes at UGA by whisking her away for a picnic and free outdoor movie in downtown Decatur. The picnic was great, as were the desperately competitive rounds of Taboo between the two of us and Joey and Dan; the movie got viciously rained out (I seem to be getting soaked in freak storms a lot lately). We took refuge at Dan's house and watched Batman instead. I am now deeply in need of my Akeelah and the Bee fix, however; my family won't watch it with me. I was so psyched to see it and have been sadly disappointed. Takers?

Tonight brought some much-needed room-cleaning time. I never unpacked my college stuff when I came home in May, I just packed out of boxes for my summer. Now I have college stuff and summer suitcases to unpack and organize. I went through most of the "random stuff" boxes tonight, sorting out stuff that doesn't need to come back to school with me, and putting the re-packed boxes out of the way downstairs. The process inevitably involved sorting through the books-to-read-or-reread box, and now I'm shifting from foot to foot in anticipation of the books I want to read. I'm leaving about half at home. I should leave them all. I didn't read a single book for fun during last school year (breaks don't count). But how sad is a bookshelf full of just mandatory reading? I think my soul at least needs the promise of non-academic books. And now that I have accomplished one goal for the night (writing a mondo-huge and disjointed blog post (yes, my to-do list actually says those very words)) I think I'm going to indulge my insatiable written-word craving.

One last thing: I'm reading Snow Flower and the Secret Fan on the high recommendation of many people, and I have to ask of those who've read it, what's with all the hype? I'm not impressed, but I'm holding out for that kick-butt chapter that makes it all worthwhile.

Displacement

My program/class this summer assigned a book by Henri Nouwen and others called Compassion. At times I cursed this book for the way it explained service, because it claims that service is only truly possible if we first have a deep relationship with God. I would agree that it helps, that it keeps you from serving for the sake of serving and points you towards what you're called to do, but I would argue that simply because I have the faith of a rather desperate agnostic does not mean that I can't serve and offer compassion.

Sorry for ranting. There were parts of the book that spoke to me, and one was the chapter on displacement. It started by talking about voluntary displacement- the times in our lives that we decide to make ourselves uncomfortable in order to reach out to others. My eight weeks of service was the most radical voluntary displacement I have ever done. The first part of this chapter has you ready to move to Calcutta and work with Mother Teresa's nuns, so passionate is its speech. But then comes the catch: involuntary displacement, the ways in which we struggle in our ordinary lives that we have no control over, are also calls from God.

"If voluntary displacement is such a central theme in the life of Christ and his followers, must we not begin by displacing ourselves? Probably not. Rather, we must begin to identify in our own lives where displacement is already occurring... Our first and most difficult task... is to allow these actual displacements to become places where we can hear God's call... In and through this recognition a conversion can take place, a conversion from involuntary displacement leading to resentment, bitterness, resignation, and apathy, to voluntary displacement that can become an expression of discipleship. We do not have to go after crosses, but we have to take up the crosses that have been ours all along" (Nouwen, et al. 70-71).

I both love and hate that sort of uncomfortable wincing that comes with realizing how blind you've been. The mantra in the back of my mind since I've been home has been, "I don't want to be here, I want to go back." I am being uncomfortably and involuntarily displaced, and I naturally rebel against that. But that's not the healthy and moral thing to do, is it? Thanks for your questions in your comment on my last post, Maria- they made me think.

Also, I've started a site, mostly for my own use, to collect and organize the nifty bits of wisdom I keep finding all over the place. I have recently fallen in love with the label function of Blogger. Yay! http://wisdomcrumbs.blogspot.com/

Last but not least- a big, happy, grateful, public thank you to Miss Linda, Mr. Jeff, Annie, and Chloe for letting Mark and I crash at their place last night. It was my parents' 25th wedding anniversary yesterday, and we tried to let them have the house to themselves. Of course, rather than go quietly, they brought the cake I had made them and champagne over to Linda's house to share before going home for the night, but what can you do. They're where I get my stubbornness from, but also my life, so I can't be too disgruntled.

Peace be with everyone :-)

The best of friends have a knack of gently showing you the error of your ways, without actually coming out and saying that you're misguided. Or maybe it's the love of a friend that fills you with enough love for yourself that you can see yourself more clearly. Regardless, I had a long conversation with my ex-goingtobe-roomie-currently-entering-theDominicans last night, and I might have my head on straight now. My love belongs to everyone around me because it's within me to give it. Love might have been more easy to offer at Bethany, where we talked immediately about real things, but love can still be offered in listening to someone talk about such seemingly-pointless things as Harry Potter. Time to start applying what I learned instead of spending all my time missing a place I can't go back to any time soon. Thanks, whoever reads this, for not just saying that to my face- I wouldn't have understood yet.

Paradoxes

It's been much more rough transitioning back into real life than I thought. How could I have figured out a good deal about how to find and be peace at a homeless shelter, and not be able to do the same at home, where I am supposed to feel the most loved and secure? Why is life so much more complicated and even unhappy here than in a place of constant chaos and trauma? I knew it would be hard to go, but I had no idea it would be so hard to come home. Despite the chaos and the sometimes overwhelming despair, the place that I spent my summer was also full of unconditional love that accepted you and what you had to offer. I was allowed to be me and grow at my own pace, offering as much love as I could as I learned. No one ever disapproved of me (at least, they never made me feel that way). My family and friends here are mostly the same loving, awesome people, but it feels like they're trying to love someone who's not here. I'm still me, but I left a big piece of my heart in New York and I'm just not sure how to be happy or fulfilled without it.

Base Camp

After a half hour delay, my plane took off without mishap from Rochester's cute little airport at around 6 PM last night, depositing me back in Atlanta along with two very full suitcases and a backpack. Thus far in my transition back into real life I am still thoroughly overwhelmed. My first surprise was remembering what it's like to be deeply loved. My family and my boyfriend were waiting for me at the Atlanta airport, and it took me a good fifteen minutes to get used to the idea that they had loved me and missed me so much that they wanted to hug and kiss me. I loved deeply and found a lot of love in Rochester, seeing as they weren't family, it was, of course, different. I hadn't even really noticed how genuine unconditional love had simply been missing from my life for the last eight weeks. I've never been without both family and boyfriend at the same time for any extended length of time, if that makes this more comprehensible. I had just forgotten what it's like, to be loved in this way. I don't think I stopped to consider what I was expecting for them to do when I got home, but the hugs and kisses and huge smiles genuinely surprised me and overwhelmed me.

Of course, some things I have adjusted to easily. I slept well in my bed last night, and I took a shower this morning without flipflops on my feet. I ate a sandwich for lunch that my dad made me last night, just like when I was growing up. I went by my church and my parents' office and saw several familiar faces. And the other things will come in time. I have a month to re-adjust to life outside of a homeless shelter. Tonight I'm going to On the Deck, a kind of Catholic youth group for college kids in Atlanta. It will be nice to be with kids my own age again and do "normal" things like eat burgers and talk about majors. There are several important holidays coming up (birthdays and anniversaries) that will keep me busy too. That's the key right now, keeping busy. Then I don't think about how my friends are doing back in Rochester, and for right now, I can't handle thinking about them too much.

The house (in Rochester) is closing for two weeks to do repairs and stuff, as it does every year. I'm hoping and praying that they all had a place to go and that the transition is going smoothly. The silence is oppressive- I'm all alone in my house right now. I haven't been all alone in a building in a long time. I miss their voices and laughter and constant requests. I'll get used to this nagging ache eventually, but it's going to take some time before I really feel at home in my own house.

The middle of the bridge

I have a childhood memory, or maybe just a strong memory from a dream, of standing on the middle of a bridge over a river that formed a state line, one foot in each state. I'm kind of like that now. I've been here for about four weeks, and I have about four weeks to go. "Here," by the way, is a Catholic Worker House in upstate NY. I'm living and spending most of my days serving here, in the somewhat odd position of a staff member without much authority or her own shifts.

It's been wonderful so far. I have learned so much here about so many things, including a lot of insights into myself. It's incredible. I'm journaling as much as I can so I won't miss anything, and I know that I'll also come to understand more stuff when I get home and have some time to reflect. There are ups and downs and big bundles of crises that make us think the house is just falling apart, but there are also a lot of ways to learn peace and patience. Most of the time, when thinking about the house, I just sit back and marvel. It's incredible (I know, I've already used this sentence once in this paragraph, but it is so true). I know I'm not getting into enough detail now to satisfy anyone, but I'm still in the middle of it and truly stepping back to analyze where I'm at is hard. Basically: nobody worry about me, my summer is beautiful.

The times that it's difficult to be here are not what I thought they would be. I was all worried about missing friends and family and special events back home. I was a little homesick at first, especially my first day when the prospect of eight weeks in a strange city where I didn't know a soul was just a lot to handle. But really, that wore off pretty fast. What's been hardest has been learning how to balance being compassionate with protecting myself. Everyone, during my first week, told me to remember to give myself free time away from the house or I would burn out. But it's also all to easy to isolate myself and not let myself be present with these women through their pain. How much easier it is to read a book at night than to listen with full attention to the difficulties our guests have faced during their days. At first I was writing letters, reading, and journaling every night. Now I try to make time for journaling before falling into bed. My time belongs to them while I'm here. I take my breaks when I know that I've become too self-centered on my own inner problems to be able to be fully attentive to them. It's a continual struggle to be passionately compassionate. To listen with all of my mind and heart is the greatest gift I can give these women who are so often sidelined and quietly ignored.

So that's where I am. I won't lie, I will enjoy being home in an environment that is much more secure and supporting than being here, but I wouldn't leave here until I have to for the world, and I will cry when it's time to say goodbye. I am home in such an irrevocable way. I hope everyone is doing well and taking care of themselves! Love you guys.

With Donna, the awesome/insane/brilliant lady who directs this place with the rest of the staff, at a hermitage near a Benedictine monastery about 2 hours away.

I'm off for my eight weeks of service learning in the morning. Happy summer, everyone! I'll be back in July.

Notes from my perch on the eve of final exams week

In one week, I will be home and done with a year of college. In two weeks, I will be in New York and starting a whole new adventure.

This is supposed to evoke feelings of excitement.

I'm ready to leave, but not ready for eight weeks of service. Mostly, I am worried about missing things. I knew some things would have to be missed: my brother's twelfth birthday, my pastor's fortieth anniversary of being a priest, and the ordination of my favorite seminarian. Now I'm also missing the last Gold Award ceremony for my circle of Girl Scout friends and a weekend in Charleston with high school friends.

Blasted Facebook. The invites will continue to come in for events. Pictures will be posted from things I never even knew were happening.

I have a jealousy problem. I know this. Being left out, then finding out about it later, always hurts. Facebook is excellent at showing me, as soon as I log in, photos of my friends out together. Inevitably, I end up questioning my priorities. If I had gone to more club meetings instead of studying, would they have invited me? What if I had been more present instead of needing to leave to go to bed on time? Have I been too preoccupied? It's hopeless, really, and kind of absurd. Facebook photos are going to cause me to slowly die from stress.

Fortunately, I will limit my online time this summer as much as possible. The way to reach me will be through the house's phone if it's urgent, or letters if it's not. Cell phone voicemail and email will be checked max of once a week. I'm looking forward to the freedom. I just hope it won't be too lonely.

So I'm waiting outside of my Spanish classroom to take my oral final. I've stared at my notes for too long and they're starting to run together. The caffeine at my side isn't helping much. Today's something of a marathon for me- almost worse than finals. After I take my oral exam, I turn in a term paper for my next class (International Relations). Then I have a break to eat. In English, I'm giving a presentation instead of turning in a term paper. My partner and I have sort of written a skit/ conversation between two characters from works we've read this semester. I'm Emi from Tropic of Orange, if that helps anyone. Should be interesting. Then I'm turning in a semester-long project in my last class, Peace Studies.

But it's all good (prepare yourself for mushiness) because tonight I will be swept off my feet and taken to some exciting dining location. Yes, my dears, today my boyfriend and I have been together for eighteen months. Life is beautiful.

Just Thoughts

Things like projects, papers, and finals are pulling at the edge of my attention, but I'm too far away to settle down to that. Little things preoccupy me- did you know that preocupado means "worried" in Spanish? So maybe little things worry me. Confusion and trepidation and something like silent hysteria. Maybe it's because I'm finishing my first year of college in two weeks, and who knows what that means. Maybe I feel no wiser or stronger or in touch with myself. Maybe someone from my past wrote something just the right way to make me think back and sigh. Maybe I can't get the sound of the shuffling of an old man's feet out of my head. He moved his cane an inch, then his feet, step-step. Maybe I'm thinking of the thunderstorm that broke furiously five minutes later, and wondering if he made it to shelter. Maybe I'm thinking that in three weeks I'll be in New York, and good grief what was I thinking. Maybe I'm thinking of the robin perching on the handlebars of a bike yesterday, singing with all its might and breaking my heart. Maybe I think too much.

Why does life so often feel like something to get through? If I just write these papers, finish these projects and presentations, study for these finals, pack this stuff, drive this car back home, then I'll have time to actually live. But I never have the time.

Yay Spring.

Gun Control

A blog I follow posted a rather moving argument for more gun control today, here. On this topic, I have three things to say that summarize my feelings:

1. I'm not sure where I stand on using the current VT situation to further political agendas. On one hand, it feels irreverent. On the other, it makes sense to use the public outcry to get reforms that have needed to happen for a while.
2. Rather than making an argument for more gun control based on statistics, I will merely say that the scariest moment in my life thus far was when I was in 5th grade, and a shooting occurred at a high school near my house. I went to grade school 30+ minutes away from home, so I was in no danger, but thanks to the widespread policy of educational institutions to not tell their kids what's going on, I lived in complete terror all day, not knowing if the shooter had been caught. My parents' office was very close by the school, as was my house where my beloved babysitter/adopted 3rd grandmother and baby brother were. When my mom came to pick me up from school at the end of the day, I sobbed and sobbed out of relief. I'll never forget that feeling of desperate fear. Better gun control could have kept a gun out of that kid's hands.
3. Joey, and other boyfriends I might have in the future, have been/will be strictly informed that should they marry me, they will not, under any circumstances, be allowed to keep a gun in my house. I made this decision the day after the shooting when I was in 5th grade.
   

Peace Studies Professor George Lopez: Class, what happened between 1950 and 1960?

Class: um...

PSPGL: BABIES!!!

I love peace studies.

So here's a thought: I'm going to try to write a blog entry in which I don't go on about my busy-ness and commitments. Because really, one can only do that for so long before it gets really irritating, and I think I passed that point a few months ago.

Instead, I'm stealing a blog idea from my blogging friend Tia over at Living Deliberately, who today wrote about simple pleasures. I thought about her attention to simple pleasures while going about my business today, and it improved my mood dramatically.

Simple pleasures I noted today:

• Paved, not carpeted, sidewalks. My job at the music department involves dragging around a huge lime green suitcase full of recording equipment, and it really is much easier to pull it on pavement than carpeting. Well done whoever came up with that idea.
• Raisins- they are really very delightful little morsels. I'm a fan. Also good for keeping up blood sugar in the middle of the day.
  
• Deserted student center lounges on Saturday nights. It makes me happy to feel like I have my own space.
• Thick gloves in chilly wind. I'm not a fan of numbness.
• The "change language" option on Blogger. Tonight I switched my language to Spanish, put my latest composition for Spanish class in an entry, and ran a spell check. Very helpful in finding where I missed accent marks.
  
• A website that provides links to places where tv shows and movies have been uploaded to the internet. I finally got around to watching Breakfast at Tiffany's- what a crazy, heartwarming, adorable movie.

Feel free to join me- we could all use more causes for cheerfulness :-)

Geez.

I guess I have been pretty awful about taking time to write here. I'm not dead (Linda, O Leaver of Desperate-Sounding Comments, you should know that, you saw me last week). I am, however, exceedingly busy. This semester doesn't feel worse than last semester work-wise, but it is. Hello, real college classes with real college finals (i.e. cumulative and no study guides). I'm also working, not a lot, but some, and those hours have to come from somewhere.

Next semester isn't looking much easier, but I think that's good. I was elected Membership Chair for Right to Life, so I'll have all sorts of officer duties and things. I made it on the Experiential Learning Council, so I'll be helping with the service learning seminars through the Center for Social Concerns (I went on one over Christmas, the Urban Plunge, and I'll be going on one this summer called the Summer Service Learning Program). I have declared a PoliSci major and a Catholic Social Tradition minor, with a Peace Studies supplementary major to follow as soon as I get the form signed. I'm official, as it were. All of that is in preparation for course registration, which is turning out to be quite the headache as no one can agree if I'm currently a sophomore or a freshman. Silly bureaucracy. I applied for a grad-research-in-undergrad sort of program through the Kellogg Institute for International Studies, and I'm hoping that I get into that. I'd work with one of the fellows next year on his research and then do research of my own, eventually writing a thesis. I'm also going to keep my job at the Music Department through next semester, with the hope that, if I got into this research program, eventually that would become my work-study. I also want to get back involved in Amnesty International and maybe take swing dancing lessons. I'm still deciding whether I want to work with Take Ten, a conflict resolution education program in area schools, next semester, but I've enjoyed it this semester. I also need to decide if I want to work with leading some of the freshman programs through campus ministry that I've been involved in this year, such as freshman retreats and freshman peer leaders. Lots to do, not enough hours.

That's where I am. Crazy, once-in-a-lifetime opportunities popping up all around me all the time. Good times.

English class exercises

My English teacher wants us to write one crisp, descriptive, "shining" paragraph about our lives every day for the next five days. Here is my first one; I might post the others as I write them. This one is about a violence-prevention program I teach to middle schoolers called Take Ten.


My face furrows in a frown in the midst of a lecture on Carl Shmitt (he was a Nazi, you know, but his logic is everywhere in the speeches of the most unlikely politicians). I have let my thoughts escape the classroom and dwell upon the events looming in my schedule. A commitment has just resurfaced in my memory, and I grieve for the time that it will consume. I perform time management calculus in my head. Because of the lost three hours, my homework load will anchor me to my desk and keep me from another lecture I had hoped to attend tonight, on a topic far more interesting to me than political theory. But there is no escaping it; my afternoon is destined to be spent in a room full of children, trying to read, sing, and laugh my way into their hearts, so that they might accept the message I have to offer. I want to show them (not tell them) that no matter what their role models might do, engaging in violence and intolerance is no way to live a life (after all, we only have one life to live). My frown now is directed at the clock, whose hands are keeping me from giggles and shouts, proudly-held jaws and folded arms.

My second "living will"

The first was when I agreed to put the "donate organs" icon on my driver's license. The second, which I just electronically "signed", says this:

"I hereby declare that should I die as a result of a violent crime, I request that the person or persons found guilty of homicide for my killing not be subject to or put in jeopardy of the death penalty under any circumstances, no matter how heinous their crime or how much I may have suffered."

The fuller version is here.

Want to sign too?

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Honey, I'm home

I feel moderately guilty that I'm not going on a mission trip to Appalachia (like my friends Alicia and Kristi) or Guatemala (like my friend Michael) or on a class-based/ educational trip to Rome (like John) or London (like Christine). Instead, I am home, sitting in my chair in my room. I intend to relax, see friends, get a lot of course reading done, and spend excessive amounts of time doing what I want, when I want. Selfish? Maybe. But also good for the soul. And in the absence of the funds necessary for the adventures my friends are having, this was probably my best choice of spring break plans.

So this is what being a peace studies kid means

I rarely cry in movies. When I do, it's just a tear or two escaping my eyes.

Tonight, I sobbed into my boyfriend's shoulder, not just once, but several times.

We went to go see Casino Royale. He'd seen it and liked it, I had heard it was a decent Bond movie. $3 a piece through the student union board. I'm so glad now that none of our friends could come with us.

Throughout the first 2/3rds of the movie, the violence seemed excessive, but I could handle it. I wasn't enjoying myself, per se, but I was still chuckling at the jokes. Then Bond gets captured. The torture scene was the most graphic one I had ever seen. Even now, it's replaying in my head, and I'm crying again. The way he slumped in the chair, the moans. The fact that he was naked and stripped of his dignity. I know he wasn't really being hurt. I didn't even like his character that much. But I just finished reading The Human Security Report 2005, which gives as detailed statistics as we know them about things like torture. It didn't bother me severely to read it- I was more just trying to get through the raw data to be able to use it in a paper. It's different to get a visual and audio representation of a little bit of the suffering you've been reading about for a semester.

Anyway, I lost it. I cried the hardest I've ever cried in a theater. And then I couldn't handle the rest of the violence in the movie, either, and it didn't help that the ending message was something along the lines of trust no one but yourself, love doesn't work as an alternative.

O God, hear my voice and grant our world your peace.
Hear my voice,
it is the voice of the victims of all wars and violence;

Hear my voice,
it is the voice of all children
who suffer when we put our faith in weapons and war;

Hear my voice,
for I speak for those in every country
and in every period of history
who do not want war and are ready to walk the road of peace;

O God, hear my voice and grant our world your peace.

Send us your Holy Spirit,
instil into the hearts of all people
the wisdom of peace,
the strength of justice
and the joy of fellowship

so that we may respond
to hatred with courage and love,
to injustice with dedication to truth,
to suffering and need
by the compassionate sharing of ourselves,
to war with the non-violence of Jesus,
who brings hope and peace.

O God, hear my voice
and grant our world your peace.

Amen.

from http://www.carmelite.com/prayer/peace.shtml

Whoa, I'm taking care of myself?

I was just thinking about my study habits recently. I'm in the midst of the craziness of midterms. At one point, I had two exams and three papers in three days, but now one of those papers has been moved to Monday. My schedule for the week now is Intl Relations exam Wednesday, Continental Poli Thought paper due Wednesday (already done), and Peace Studies paper due Wed (also done). I had a Spanish midterm this morning. Granted, I lucked out that my English paper isn't due until Monday (along with a Spanish composition and a major Peace Studies paper), but I'm actually on top of things. And I relaxed while working really hard, which is the amazing thing. I went to a basketball game and a concert on Saturday (both of which were fabulous!) and to a hockey game friday night. Since when do I give myself that much time off? Go me! Oh, and I worked 16.5 hours last week, so maybe I might start making money now!

Sometimes a pat on the back or two is necessary for sanity.

Ups and Downs

So the day started off very well with me getting a lot done and then Joey bringing me Chickfila for breakfast midway through the morning. He now has a trump card when I'm annoyed with him ("but I brought you Chickfila"). He had to brave two cab companies, both of which took advantage of him. But the food was good!

I've been working hard trying to get everything out of the way. I wanted to go to a basketball and a hockey game today, but I ended up just going to the bball game. I've got an extremely busy week ahead of me, so the more I can get ahead, the better.

I lost thirty bucks today, fresh from the ATM. I don't know how. I was more than a little unhappy, so much so that I missed the first ten minutes of the bball game to go back and look. It was really windy though, so any hope of no one picking it up was dashed by the fact that it would have been blown away. It's not that huge of a deal. I am pretty short on money right now, but seriously, it's not like I have to worry where my next meal is going to come from. I just hope that my $30 makes it to someone who needs it. P.S. the basketball game was awesome.

In other news, life is sometimes very difficult to bear with patience. You do everything right and you still end up in a bad place. Nothing can fix that. You deal and try to ignore it when it gets to be too much. Sometimes that's all there is left to do. In the end, you remind yourself that things will get better, people do care about you, and no one can take away your smile unless you let them. And on your way you go.

lenten thoughts

Lent doesn't start until Ash Wednesday, of course, but my lovely seasonal black book has already started as of yesterday. Every little (insert liturgical color) book starts off with a page urging you to examine your goals for the special Church season. Then the rest of the book has daily six-minute meditations on appropriate scripture for the season, plus a page of tidbits and trivia.

In thinking about my goals for Lent, the usual suspects came to mind. Give up Starbucks! (With, as my boyfriend pointed out, the ulterior motive of saving money). Give up chocolate! (with the ulterior motive of eating more healthily, which I need to do anyway). Joey is very good about pointing out the shortcomings in my shortcuts. So tonight I sat still for a bit and thought about Lenten goals for real. Let me tell a short story first so my thoughts make more sense.

Last Sunday I worked my first recital for the music department. The audience filed past me into the auditorium, taking a program each. One was an old man wrapped in many layers of mismatched winter gear. I couldn't figure out from looking at him if he was homeless or just a little eccentric. Another worker told me that he'd been warned that this guy comes to most, if not all, recitals.

The performer had ordered two vases of flowers, one for the stage next to her and one for the back table near the entrance. The man kindly took a program from me and continued on, but drew up short at the sight of the flowers. "Real flowers!" he exclaimed, and proceeded to bury his face in them, breathing deeply. The joy on his face was heartwarming, even if I was a bit shocked by his behavior.

While thinking quietly tonight, I realized, I want that kind of joy. The joy at things as simple as a vase of flowers in the middle of winter. Not only do I want it for myself, but I want to be able to transmit it to others. I struggle a lot with finding ways to love certain people in my life, especially when overt gestures of love are harshly criticized. The key, I concluded, is prayer. Prayer for them can only help our relationships, and prayer can deepen my appreciation of little gifts and ultimately lead to joy.

I tend to sideline prayer. In a life in which everything is mentally scheduled, prayer just doesn't make it very often into my daily routine. It's hard to find a spare moment, especially when I have the energy to focus. I also struggle with feeling fulfilled in prayer, like I'm holding a conversation with someone who loves me, not just a wall. So maybe I don't try because I don't want to feel so inadequate. I don't want to face nagging doubts about whether God is really there. It's much easier not to try.

But as I've seen, I miss out on so much without a good relationship with God. So, my Lenten goal is to try. Not to feel better, not to necessarily find joy, but just to try.

Happy things

Sometimes you just need to make a list of everything that's going right in your life to remind yourself that life really does rock.

• friends calling and text messaging to offer love and support
• a boyfriend who takes such good care of me
• Rector and RA who genuinely take an interest in my life and want to help
• lots more events during weekends on campus this semester- Ragtime, Chinese New Year Celebration, Brazilian carnival
• (slowly) learning how to dance and look good while doing it
• pierogi at the dining hall
  
• throwing my first party (dedicated to happiness and love, not drinking)
• feeling like the songs I'm playing for guitar class are actually sort of pretty
• having enough self-discipline to sleep at normal hours and not waste weekends sleeping
• lots of apples-to-apples playing
• random memories about special people in my life (Mr. Bird making fun of the afternoon announcements girl, who liked to yell into the microphone and scare him)
  
• singing the salve regina when no one's in my room
• feet of snow, and jumping in huge piles of it
• Joey finding a latin translation attributed to our deceased and dearly loved latin teacher on a polish website
• lovely pictures sent via cell phone from my mom
• quiet library space and time to get work done.

Yeah, life is good.

to be humble

I'm finding that humility leads to being trampled on and used, which makes me think that I've got the idea of humility wrong. How do you put others first while still taking care of yourself?

Note to self

There is absolutely nothing wrong with me that a couple of hours spent with a good novel in a completely empty, quiet, softly lit dorm room won't cure.

More than anything, I miss my huge comfy Queen Anne-style reclining chair that I got for my seventeenth birthday. I also deeply miss the quiet and solitude of my room. It's so strange how you can be around tons of people and feel lonely, but be alone and feel complete. That was an emo thing to say.

I have my first Spanish test tomorrow, and no, I am not ready. I am also deathly afraid I will oversleep because I have been not sleeping well.

Spring break plans are still up in the air. My current favored plan is going to Chicago via train for the first weekend, hanging out with my favorite Northwestern girl, then swinging through a grocery store on my way back and holing up in my empty dorm, assuming I can find a job for the week on campus. There were jobs offered over fall break that paid pretty well. I need the money, and the time alone to do whatever I want (i.e. cross stitch and read happy books that aren't about running the world or war or dead babies) sounds pretty freaking amazing. We'll see.

Brr.

I got an email from my mom yesterday that read something like this: “You haven’t called and you aren’t even updating your blog. Are you ok?!” The answer (which, being a good daughter, I told her in a phone call last night) is that yes, I am ok, just taking “real” college classes for the first time (not intros) and that keeps me very, very busy, especially with everything else I’m doing on the side this semester. But it’s a good busy, really.

The weather is extremely cold- last night we watched WeatherBug, hoping that we would get up to a whole degree, not just .4 of one. But it’s definitely manageable. I can’t stand being outside much more than the 10-15 minutes it takes to get from building to building, but I can handle that. The weirdest part is when you’re outside, the mucous in your nose starts to freeze, and suddenly it feels like you have very huge boogers in your nose. It goes back to normal soon after getting back inside. I really thought the weather was going to be a lot worse that it has been so far. I was expecting feet of snow, driving wind all the time, and the rumored permacloud (solid cloud wall for months). We have a foot of snow and the natives here are like “wow, I can’t believe we got so much so fast! This hasn’t happened in years!” I mean, schools are cancelled, and have been for a few days. Oh. Ok. Maybe I overdid the worrying. There is also no permacloud to be seen. It’s about half cloudy and half sunny. The wind is bad when it’s here, but it’s not omnipresent.

Maybe I should be thanking God rather than complaining. Hmm.

Of course, Joey is coping much better than I am. Only Joey would complain, when it is literally 1 degree outside, that he got too hot on the way over from his dorm. Yes, in one degree weather, my boyfriend managed to be overdressed. Good grief.

The Dorm Formal Pictures

AAAHH

Life has been SO FREAKING BUSY lately, but maybe things are starting to settle into a routine for the semester? Just so that my loves back home won't think I've fallen off the face of the earth, here's what's going on in my life- maybe soon I can start posting something coherent again.

Friday I fell on the uber-slippery ice and smacked my tailbone, so I spent most of Friday afternoon/evening/night chilling on my futon trying to be comfortable. Joey even ordered in dinner for me. But the upside was I got to watch Mr. and Mrs. Smith instead of decorating the dorm for our spirit week, which was a pretty good tradeoff. I love my understanding RA.

Yesterday Joey and I attempted to navigate the public transportation system and get to Target, despite our respective injuries (his foot/shin has been having issues since the March). We ended up spending all of the morning and the first half of the afternoon on this endeavor. It was necessary, but it makes me really really want a car. I got Chick-fil-A at the mall to console myself. It worked.

Last night was my dorm's formal, which was infinitely better than the halloween dance and pretty much a blast. I'll try to get pictures up later. I looked decent considering my mom's best friend wasn't around to do my hair. The best part was that it snowed many inches last night before the dance started but after the plows had retired for the day, so we trekked over to the dance, which was held in a building about ten minutes away, with me wearing sweatpants under my dress, boots, and a parka and trying to keep my hem out of the snow. Good times.

Right now I'm holed up in the library doing homework. In between everything else, little of that has gotten done this weekend. Tonight I'm lectoring at our dorm's spirit week's closing Mass, at which the president of the university happens to be presiding. Apparently there's a wine and cheese reception to follow? I kid you not. They better have grape juice for us little ones.

I think that's everything. OH and I watched ND beat Villanova yesterday in men's basketball, which was ridiculously intense. Tomorrow night Joey and I start our Latin dancing class- I'm pretty excited. Ok, now maybe that's everything. Back to work. :-)

Hesburgh rocks the casbah

Tonight the extraordinary man known as Fr. Ted Hesburgh hung out in my dorm's chapel and shared a few stories and words of wisdom. My favorite:

"Yeah, they've got bright kids, but you're bright kids. Ok, they've got some stuff that we don't, I guess- like dope."
-Father Theodore Martin Hesburgh, on Harvard

The best part is, he has every right to say that because he worked there for a while as chairperson of the board of faculty or something like that. He's my hero.

Good grief, I misspelled the title of my last post.

I'm back (again)- this time from a long weekend in D.C.

Stories and details might be forthcoming if homework allows, of which there is currently a large amount. And by large, I mean ginourmous.

But the upside is, I just spent the weekend touring DC and protesting about a cause I believe in (the annual March for Life was yesterday) with some of the best friends I have at ND. Totally, completely, 100% worth it.

Committments thus far this semester

Subtitle: Not to impress anyone, but so I can look back on my insane self and laugh.

• 5 classes, plus P.E. (none are only freshman now. all were last semester. I just launched myself into real college classes)
• Take Ten- working in a local community learning center to teach violence-prevention and conflict-resolution techniques.
  
• Latin dancing class with Joseph.
• Freshman Peer Leaders Small Group (and occaisionally Big Group), Right to Life, Peace Fellowship, Four:7, and maybe Amnesty.
  
• Working 3 hours/ week in the music department, plus weekend events.
• Guitar II- an extra expense, but if I don't continue now, I'll lose what I've learned on the instrument all over again, and I WILL NOT take Guitar I again. Ew.
• Maybe photographing for Scholastic?
• And of course basketball games, hockey games, Chicago trips, and everything else that comes with being a ND student.
• Maybe I should make time for Joey and friends, too.

I'm scared and excited.

Very full weeks

So I know I haven't posted for over a week, and normally this is blasphemy, but I promise I've been super busy. Really. Early Wednesday I left for my Urban Plunge experience in Mobile, AL- an educational seminar on urban poverty in which I was exposed to just about every major charity in Mobile. I got back late Friday night, at which point I ditched my suitcase, threw my toiletry bag in my other suitcase, and took it with me camping near Rutledge, GA, arriving at our cabin around midnight. I hung out with my beautiful Girl Scout friends, then came home early Sunday morning to shower, wash clothes, and go to Mass. Mom repacked my stuff ingeniously such that all of my belongings and a sleeping bag fit into two bags. Then Dad and I were off to the airport, and the rest of the day Sunday was spent travelling back to Notre Dame. Today I bought my books, freaked out at the price tag, re-bought my books using many gift cards on Amazon.com, unpacked all of my stuff, caught up on email, watched Moulin Rouge, and made cappuccino cookie dough milkshakes.

Tomorrow classes start again. Fortunately I have only one class tomorrow, as my other one isn't meeting yet. But this one class happens to be known as Continental Political Thought, and it involves ten large books by authors like Weber, Nietzsche, and Marx. Plans for later in the week include more first classes, breaking it to my Monday professors that I won't be in class on Monday, and a trip to D.C. to walk in the March for Life, a huge abortion protest and rally.

I should probably be intimidated, but right now, I'm too tired.

Random List of Things

• More people at church thought I was already gone than knew that I was still here. Maybe I'm being subconcsiously asked to leave? [just kidding. the real reason is that most of my friends at church are starting to show their old age through memory loss- Greg, I'm looking at you ;-) ]
• I've only seen my blogging pal and writing inspiration Bego in person once, and very briefly, while I've been home. But I've read all of her blog entries while I've been on break.
  
• I discovered while at the cabin in the mountains that it is very very easy to become used to staying up late with Joey and falling asleep against him on the couch when I was just too sleepy to stay up any more, knowing that in an hour or so he would wake me up and make me go sleep in my real bed. Now he's in Florida and I miss that way more than I thought I would. Good thing there are parietals at ND, or I could really learn to live like that.
• I started my very own Blockbuster card tonight. Wait, all that means is I get to pay my own late fees. Crap.
• I've been buying books much more than I've been reading them. I've only finished one book over break. I blame Merton and his denseness and the weirdness of the other book I'm reading.
• BUT in defense of my spending habits, I didn't buy any movies or CDs when out shopping with Joey last night, even though he did. I think it's been a year since I bought a CD, and I've never bought any music on iTunes. I just borrow my friends' CDs and stagger when I open CDs I get for Xmas and my birthday.
  
• Being a Girl Scout lent me a lot of prestige in the mountains, especially in the areas of fire-building, smore-making, and horseback riding. I left the fishing to the boys, though.
  
• Joey spent a Barnes and Noble gift card on a Snoopyopoly game last night, and it's amazing. The most expensive property (next to Go) is Joe Cool's sunglasses.
  I'm such a sucker for all things Peanuts.

How to destroy my self confidence in ten seconds or less

Tomorrow afternoon, I depart with the Boy for some quality time in the mountains with him, his parents, his older brother, and his brother's girlfriend. In the days leading up to this trip, I have been very excited about it, mostly because I hope it will be fun and relaxing and good for all relationships involved.

Then, on the phone with the Boy tonight, he dropped this beautiful comment:

"And there's a hot tub at the cabin, so we can enjoy that..."

The ironic thing is, I asked him when we were still up at Notre Dame whether or not I ought to bring a swimsuit home in my limited suitcase space. We decided no, that was silly, why would I go swimming in December? Yes, dear readers, both of my swimsuits are hundreds of miles away in Indiana.

It's not that huge of a deal, really; I could potentially wear shorts and a t-shirt in said hot tub, or procure a cheap suit tomorrow sometime. But it triggered a whole host of other issues. My legs aren't shaved, I'm out of shape, I've gained a little weight during the food fest that my break has become, etc. These led to feelings of discomfort, anxiety, and general unhappiness, of course accompanied by natural envy of Joey's brother's girlfriend, who is gorgeous and will have no problem looking great in a bikini. I'm worried about how I'll look in a one-piece. All of this sent me reeling into a fanatically depressed anxious introverted mental fetal position. It doesn't take much to push me off the edge, huh?

So now I find myself hopelessly awake at 3 AM, worried to pieces about my ability to be generally cheerful and fun to be around with people I'm apparently not all that comfortable with for days. I'm ok with Joey's parents, but I haven't spent nearly enough time around Eric and Meghan. Yes, you read right, somehow a minor swimsuit incident led to a complete loss of faith in my social skills.

What else is there to do at this point but blog about it, laugh at myself, and hope that someone else will laugh with me? I'm obviously not backing out of the trip based on something so minor. I will end up being ok, probably embarassing myself a few times and never entirely relaxing around Eric and Meghan, but parts of it will be fun. This is one of those beautiful times in life when you bite the bullet and hope for the best.

I spend way too much time organizing my life

I end up going overboard with the whole internet/ connectivity/ online organization thing. I just get so excited at starting new ways to share things- thoughts, photos, opinions, wants. It's silly, but can lead to good things if done in moderation.

That being said, I spent quite some time this evening exploring 43things.com, and its interconnected sister sites, 43people.com, allconsuming.net, and listsofbests.com. This is New Years resolutions to the extreme, and much more. It's all really pretty interesting- people swap opinions on books, movies, food, places, destinations, other users, famous people, and lists. Just go browse around, it's much more fun to look around than to read a description.

I also have decided to give this photo-a-day-for-a-year trend a try. It might actually happen, it might not, but when better to try than the first day of the year? I started a new blog just for these photos- flashbulb365.blogspot.com.

At this point, I know at least Maria, Joey, and my mother are snickering at me, but I love doing stuff like this. It's like looking at the first clean page of a beautiful notebook or filling a plain piece of cheesecloth with stitches. It's so exciting to me. :-P

Yep, I'm ready to go back.

Being home is nice for a while, but eventually exuberance at my return starts to fade, and I remember why I loved the idea of going far away to college in the first place. I love my family and my high school friends, but right now I also love that I will be mostly out of town for the next couple of weeks and then back at school. So it goes.

Love.

Sometimes I find myself in a beautiful state in which I can't love everyone enough. In these moments of clarity, which are the closest thing I have to being in touch with God, I realize how much I love everyone and that if I could maintain this state of love, I could maybe convince others to love too, and the world would slowly become a place in which everyone loved and was loved. And that would be heaven. These moments have been coming with more frequency and intensity. At the same time, though, I know how much I fall short of being able to love like this every minute. When I am touched by this feeling, I want to call everyone on my cell phone and thank them for living, or hug everyone at Mass during the sign of peace and make them feel how much I care about them. I could never keep that up, though, because I am not perfect. So I say that this is when I am the most in touch with God because I think that's who God is, and who God's calling me to be. Phrases like "Everlasting Love" start to make sense, in that moment. And the more times it happens the more I want to find a way to make it keep happening, so that my whole life will be lived for and in Love. To me, God is the one who shows me how to love, motivates me to think that this life is the one I should be living, and forgives me when I can't quite make it there. And from there, everything else begins to make sense. Christ's birth. Christ's sacrifice. The Trinity. The Chrurch. These are all topics for other posts, and I couldn't possibly explain everything now. I want to live like this and share this and be this. I don't know if it even makes any sense, but this mystery in my heart is so deep and true that it has to be right, somehow. And I feel like I have to share it as much as possible.

Top Ten Things That Excite Me at 3AM on Friday Morning

1. The idea of going to the mountains with Joey and his family for good relaxing fun with my second family (I was adopted).
2. A scarf with pockets AND cute tassels. Kudos to my aunt for getting it for me, and Bath and Body Works for making it.
3. The distinct possiblility that I will be attending a New Years Eve party for the first time in my life (as opposed to sitting at home trying to get my parents to wake up for the Big Moment).
   
4. My computer being alive (it was completely unresponsive earlier, but then I realized that while the charger was plugged into my laptop, the other end was not in an outlet).
5. Introduction to Peace Studies with Professor George Lopez. In fact, I'm so excited about this one that I nearly want to run up to Notre Dame and make him start class right now.
6. My quickly approaching camping weekend with my Girl Scout lovelies!
7. Star Wars IV, A New Hope. I watched it with my little brother tonight, and I fell in love with Star Wars all over again. I had almost forgotten how rich the universe is, how complex the characters, how well-coceived the plot! George Lucas, I love you almost as much as George Lopez.
8. A date tonight with my darling boyfriend, who abides even my most withdrawn moods.
   
9. That a lovely pair of ankle-high water-proof suede Lands End boots I've had my eye on just went on sale. With the help of a gift card (from the same aunt who gave me the above-mentioned scarf), I will be able to purchase said boots for approximately $2. Now I need to figure out where to ship them to (home and have to find room in my luggage for them? or ND and hope that someone will take them from the nice UPS man for me?)
10. My cold finally letting go of its grip on my nasal cavities. Trust me, this is a very, very good thing.
    

Amusing tidbits

My Christmas, aside from the usual good food, time with family, and early Christmas morning, involved several uniquely humorous moments:

• The guy in the front row of our Christmas Eve Mass spontaneously raised his hand and his wife's hand high in the air every time our pastor mentioned that we were happy to see all of the visitors present.
• I got a new aunt and a new uncle in one week (on different sides of the family, and both from slightly scandalous eloping type things)
• The family cat loathed the sight of my extremely pet-loving aunt, and flatly refused all of her friendly advances
• Mark won a video game after playing it for two days straight (which he has never done)
• The cat, who was finally allowed to look at the Christmas tree, ignored the ornaments completely and nibbled on the needles instead. Silly kitten.
• Just because it was my second Christmas at the Boy's house, and I had met everyone there several times except for one person, didn't mean that I could escape comments such as "I like this one better than the last one." Nearly 14 months is a pretty long trial period from my point of view. Good to know I passed the test.
• I realized halfway to the Boy's house that I probably would get arrested if I hit a police road block because I was carrying wine from my parents to his. I later refused to carry more wine from his parents to mine.
  
• My mom, at a local natural history museum, commented loudly about how an ancient Roman surgical tool looked exactly like what is used today to clear out excess ear wax in older patients.
  
• I learned how to knit. Ok, that's not amusing, but I'm proud of it.

Now go share that smile on your face from reading this post with someone else. Merry Christmas!

Prince of Peace

At times I wonder how I can be so educated in my faith (13.5 years of formal Catholic education and counting) yet so clueless. Perhaps this somewhat rambling self-examination is out of place in the silence before what promises to be a happy Christmas morning, but I am wide awake and thinking.

Tonight at Mass I proclaimed (in a rather nasily, congested way) the traditional Christmas vigil passage from Isaiah, which includes the words, "The Prince of Peace... will rule with justice and peace now and forever. The love of our God will make this happen!"

My (somewhat predictable) quandary is summurized in this eloquent poem, which I found on Kristy's blog tonight:

A Christmas Ghost-Story
By Thomas Hardy

South of the Line, inland from far Durban,

A moldering soldier lies—your countryman.

Awry and doubled up are his gray bones,

And on the breeze his puzzled phantom moans

Nightly to clear Canopus: “I would know

By whom and when the All-Earth-gladdening Law

Of Peace, brought in by that Man Crucified,

Was ruled to be inept, and set aside?

And what of logic or of truth appears

In tacking ‘Anno Domini’ to the years?

Near twenty-hundred liveried thus have hied,

But tarries yet the Cause for which He died.”

To put it bluntly: what happened to Christ's peace?

I believe the traditional Catholic answer would go something like this:
God, who continually tries to bring us into closer relationship with Him, intends for Peace on Earth/ the Kingdom of God to come about not through any imposed method, but through God working among humanity. Christ came to show us how, and the Holy Spirit fills us to enable us to work for our own peace. God wants us to choose to re-create ourselves through His grace. Christ brought the salvation we seek, but not in the form of a traditional ruler: our servant-king offers us peace as a gift to be chosen.

That all makes sense. At some level, I think (at least I hope) that I accept it. But it's all too easy to look at human history since Christ's coming and ask if we've improved at all. I think it would be hard to answer positively. The easy road is to look at the sharp contrast between the true Christian way of life and our world today and despair of the two ever coinciding.

Is it possible? Well, it hasn't happened yet, so it's easy to say no. Faith calls us to say yes, and to work towards the realization of that possibility. It's not so much that I disagree that it's possible; what gnaws at me is the gap between the possibility and the realization.

"... will rule with justice and peace now..."
This is the part I struggle with the most. Where's the now? I see the possibility, the hope for the future, but the now?
The answer that comes to mind is that the Prince of Peace can rule over our hearts now, and through that process His Peace can spread to the rest of the world. Thus, I come face to face with the unavoidable personal nature of my abstract questions: my personal relationship with God is the key to how I can offer Christ's peace to the world. It's also unavoidable that our relationship is not what it should be. My common, honest excuse is that prayer is awkward and I am busy. But it seems that if I'm going to go through with my current course of study (political science/ peace studies) and choice of career, things are going to have to change in this area of my life, so that it is no longer an area of my life but truly is my life. I suppose I've known that all along.

Merry Christmas. Welcome, Prince of Peace.

Christmas Eve Eve greetings

Thus far, my break has been full of good times with friends and family, although the last two days I've spent mostly moping around the house, thanks to a lovely virus my father bequeathed to me. No, he's not dead, I just like the sound of the word bequeath, and maybe I like sounding like I know/ use big words. Hm. I'm supposed to lector tomorrow night; that will require lots of Claritin and cough drops, but shouldn't be too difficult.

Also, I've given up on my Grand Christmas Day Dinner* because: 1) I'm sick 2) My family doesn't really want it anyway, but would have put up with it if I'd done it 3) No one can agree on what meat they want 4) We're so pitiful that my boyfriend's mom, who has her own family plus four staying-at-their-house relatives to cook for, offered to help me. Good grief, I said. We're doing sandwiches, and maybe Mom will make lasagne. I want to go to Waffle House, personally. They're open on Christmas, you know. My mother's laid-back attitude about whether this Christmas is at all traditional has infected me. I don't care that much. As long as Mark, the resident little kid, is happy, life is good.

*I'm pretty sure I mentioned it in a post around Thanksgiving time, but my parents are working through Christmas, being the good doctors that they are. To be fair, they haven't had to do this since I think when I was nine or so. I got into my head that the appropriate counter-measure to save Christmas would be me making a huge homemade meal.

A final bit of holiday cheer: my father and little brother have been gone for hours in the van (not my dad's little sedan). This makes my mother and I think that they might be purchasing a small elephant in some far-off country, because really, the two don't do well together for very long, and Dad refused to tell Mom where he was going. Or maybe they just went to Hooters.

True Story

Once upon a time, three friends, known as Laura the Awkward Village-Dweller, Marguerite the Lovingly Obnoxious, and Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner, sat comfortably in a warm kitchen, all recently returned from fantastic adventures. After a good deal of conversation sprinkled liberally with laughter, one of the three, Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner, received a call from another friend, Katherine the Brave Doubter, who excitedly reported that she would be returning that very night. The three rejoiced that Katherine the Brave Doubter would soon be in their midst again. Marguerite the Lovingly Obnoxious enthusiastically suggested that they all partake of a simple quest for the nectar of the gods, ice cream, later that night.

Laura the Awkward Village-Dweller sighed despondently. She knew that she had been summoned by the People of Village Far Far Away to return to her home that evening. But her face brightened! Laura the Awkward Village-Dweller heroically proposed that she trek forth to her village and then return later in the evening, when Katherine the Brave Doubter had arrived. Marguerite the Lovingly Obnoxious and Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner cheered with great fervor at this plan.

Eventually the three friends parted, excited that their adventure would commence in a few hours hence.

Alas, while Laura the Awkward Village-Dweller managed to escape the grasp of the People of Village Far Far Away, she was not a resident of the Great Kingdom inhabited by the other three, and became desperately lost in the gloomy dark streets. Her friends valiantly tried to their agreed-upon meeting point, known as Sheridan’s Frozen Custard, but by the time their attempts were successful and all four friends had met at the spot, the store had darkened its windows and locked its frozen custard cases.

Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner rallied her friends, reminding them that their quest demanded that they continue their search for ice cream. Laura the Awkward Village-Dweller abandoned her carriage so that all could travel together with Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner. Reassured, the four set out on what proved to be the most demanding quest of their lives.

They searched high and low in the Great Kingdom for establishment that would provide them with their sought-after ice cream. The group covered three Dairy Queens, two Brusters, two McDonalds, and a Sonic in their quest. The defeats suffered at the Sonic and a McDonalds were particularly crushing. The drive-in Sonic restaurant boasted bright lights and several parked cars, strong signs that this would be the end of the great quest. The friends selected their frozen treats from the bright menus, but when Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner attempted to order through their communications system, a man in a vehicle parked next to theirs delivered the sad news: the establishment had just closed.

At this point, the group was quite despondent. Marguerite the Lovingly Obnoxious had exhausted her supply of witty insults for the moment, and the music that Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner played to give cheer in between defeats no longer caused heads to nod in beat. Katherine the Brave Doubter boldly suggested that they succumb to the pressure of finding a reputable ice cream store and instead eat of the lesser goods of the twenty-four-hour Baskin Robbins. Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner would hear nothing of it, and through her efforts the group had the strength to carry on.

The worst was yet to come, however. The group came upon a 24-hour McDonalds, and their hopes soared as they imagined the taste of McFlurries. They eagerly pulled into the drive through line and searched the menu for their frozen treats. But, they were not to be found! The group sighed collectively, but decided to settle for milkshakes instead. Elizabeth the Courageous Vehicle-Owner once again attempted to order for the group. But a woman’s voice delivered a crushing blow instead of sweet victory: this McDonalds had no ice cream of any kind.

Stunned into submission, the group almost gave up hope. But then, miraculously, another 24-hour McDonalds was recalled, a distance away. But that was nothing to the brave four compared to the joy of consuming ice cream. Off they went, and at last, after a long and difficult journey, they were successful. So great was their shared bliss that they sat in silence in the darkened car, gobbling their well-earned treats. Of course visiting ten separate stores was worth this prize.

Laura the Awkward Village-Dweller was returned to her vehicle, and all eventually drifted to their places of residence, sugar buzzed and still smiling from their glorious adventure.

The end.

P.S. photo documentaion of the grand adventure is available at http://flickr.com/photos/gingercrinkle/.

New Chapter in Sibling-hood

My little brother, Mark, is seven years younger than me. We've generally gotten along pretty well, considering the age difference and that I often filled in as his second mom when I was in high school (both of our parents are diehardly wonderful workaholics). Now, however, he has entered that stage known alternatively as Tweenhood and Middle School Syndrome. It's a dark and scary place.

Where I was once the trusted wiser older sister, I am now often scorned and flatly ignored. I assumed that he, being a boy, would go through this with our parents, but I never thought it would mess up our relationship, especially since I'm mostly off at college and not a part of his daily life. But it seems (at least to his somewhat hurt older sister) that he's transferred the insolence he can't show towards his parents to me.

He's always made fun of me, and I of him, but this has a different, meaner edge to it. He has no regard for my opinions, or if he does, he would prefer to keep that appreciation internal and instead negate everything I suggest. For example, in the car on the way to an evening at a friend's house tonight, he was sulking because Mom had been abrupt with him, which was understandable considering that her day had been long, busy, and rough, and we were rushing to get everything together to go. I suggested that perhaps now was not the time to be angry with Mom, citing said long, rough day. He looked at me like I was from another planet, rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Whatever."

I've never been set on dominating him- I'd much rather be his friend, and share with him my life goals and what's going on in my fast-paced world. I'd like to hear about his hopes and dreams too. But the open happy relationship that was mostly still there at fall break now seems closed off. He's a good kid, at heart, but I sometimes can't see that for his selfishness (alhough maybe that comes from him being so anxious?).

He's just not as mature as I thought; he's got some growing up to do. Maybe I do too. Maybe I'm expecting too much. He just has so few people he holds close to his heart enough to trust. I've been one of those people; I've cradled him when he's been crying and afraid all throughout his life. Maybe I'm resentful that he's distancing himself from me- but maybe he had to because I left. I don't know. But I wish he could see the quiet daggers he stabs in my heart every time he looks at me in that oh-my-gosh-you-are-so-dumb-how-did-I-ever-look-up-to-you way.

Sometimes the old Mark shines through, though, and he's giggling and excited. He was like his old self when he was playing with our friends' dogs tonight. And maybe he doesn't mean the things he says to sound so mean- maybe they're meant to be funny, but I'm taking it to personally. I don't know.



Dear Santa,
For Christmas, I want my little brother back.
Love, Laura

eery

This either describes me or who I want to be- I can't figure out which.

You're To Kill a Mockingbird!

by Harper Lee

Perceived as a revolutionary and groundbreaking person, you have
changed the minds of many people. While questioning the authority around you, you've
also taken a significant amount of flack. But you've had the admirable guts to
persevere. There's a weird guy in the neighborhood using dubious means to protect you,
but you're pretty sure it's worth it in the end. In the end, it remains unclear to you
whether finches and mockingbirds get along in real life.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Oh dear. This was only the top school on my list for all of high school, before I changed my mind at the last minute. Maybe it would have been a better school for me... I'll never really know, I guess, but I plan to go here for grad school eventually. Oh, ignore the description, that so isn't me.

You're Georgetown University!

A bit of a lapsed Catholic, you still pay lip service to the faith,
depending on who you're talking to. At the same time, you're more interested in
politics than religion and can't help but be swept away by patriotism from time
to time. While you aren't that soft-spoken, you still seem like a good candidate
for diplomacy. Though you love bulldogs, you'd never admit that that's what
they're called.


Take the University Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Bilbo: "I, uh, I h-have things to do." [fidgets with the Ring behind his back. Whispers to himself] "I've put this off for far too long. I regret to announce — this is The End. I am going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell. Goodbye."
[Bilbo puts the Ring on and vanishes.]

Hobbits: "Ooh!"


Goodbye until next year, Notre Dame!

Anticipation

The prompt at Sunday Scribblings this week is Anticipation. I haven't done one of these before, but I don't think a random prompt from someone who doesn't know me will ever be more appropriate to my life.

Most of my clothes are in two suitcases. Zed the red flowered plant currently lacking flowers has been relocated to the chapel, where some kind soul has offered to water the dorm's plants. My guitar is hiding in the chapel's confessional so it won't melt or warp or otherwise become damaged in our overly heated room with no ventilation. Christmas cards have been sent to my friends around campus, and a few gifts have been given and received. The fridge is off and defrosted. All that remains is to close my laptop, unplug its power cord, and stick it in my backpack.

I'm going home tomorrow. I am so ready. It's not that I don't like it here, or wouldn't be able to keep working and living here were there no break in sight, but a month at home sounds absolutely beautiful right now. I miss my family, non-dining hall food, sweet tea, warmer weather, my church, my pre-college friends. I miss being alone. I miss having the time to sit by myself for hours, reading and cross-stitching and listening to music. I miss the comfort of my room, where I've slept for as long as I can remember (until now, of course). All of this and more is what excites me about being home.

A part of me is worried, too. I don't know if my excellent relationship with my family will continue when we're around each other for more than a week, and I don't like fussing with my family. I hope I won't get bored or restless. That's been a big problem in my large amounts of free time this week- I had two finals Monday and then nothing until today, so Tuesday and Wednesday were spent doing a lot of nothing. But it wasn't comfortable, you know? I've been on overdrive all semester, and it feels weird to be able to relax and not worry about deadlines. Is that bad? I also have a lot of anxiety running through my head regarding the priest situation I mentioned a few posts ago. My rector wrote him a note asking him to leave me alone, but I'm terrified that he'll find me during the break. I have no clue what I would do.

Basically, I'm filled with a lot of anticipation, good and bad, and as with most things, I wish it would just HAPPEN already. I believe that anticipation can be good, but I also dislike being in such a state. Which is why I will distract myself with a book now. Good night, my lovely readers.

That was close

I just narrowly missed sleeping through a final. I have no clue how it happened, but somehow, I did not wake up when my alarms went off but at 8:15. The final started at 8. How I managed to wake up spontaneously at 8:15 instead of 12:15 is an act of God. I'm pretty sleep deprived. I pulled a hoodie on, hoofed it to my classroom 25 minutes late, and took the exam with time to spare. It was soc, and it's a really easy class, so no big deal. I was very rational through the whole process: ok, ten minutes to walk to class, taking the final is no problem, the only issue will be if she doesn't let you walk in late, but she's nice and won't do that.

Let it be known that I have never done something like this before. I almost missed a flight from oversleeping this semester, but never something like a test. I'm an academic perfectionist. Even now, I'm worrying in the back of my head about a multiple choice question I got wrong. Good grief, I say. Regardless, my finals are over, and I just printed my last paper.

I feel like a college student now.

December 12 of 12

My 12 of 12 is here.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Go here.

Argh, blogger. Why do you delete my posts?

Summary of the huge thing I had typed up (cough, before meanie blogger deleted it, cough):

• Two exams down, one exam and one paper to go. Life is better now.
• I'm not scared out of my mind about doing eight weeks of service. I feel like that's the normal reaction, but I don't personally feel that way. Somehow, without me noticing it, I learned how to trust God. Now that's scary. But very, very right.
• I picked my Christmas charity of choice: Catholic Relief Services.
• This article in the Times today about Kofi Annan made me smile. Way to say what desperately needs to be said in as kind a manner as possible. The last few sentences were so unnecessary for the article, but I will admit they made me smile too.
  

I'm standing on the edge of me

Nothing quite so dramatic, but I'm listening to "On Fire" by Switchfoot and I love that line.
Haha, my iTunes shuffle just went to "Rhythm of the Night". Does that mean something?

Anyway. One of the people in my small group at the retreat I went to last weekend said something that has been so true this week. He said that in high school, you see people for a few hours every day, and then everyone goes home and has time to unwind. Here, you people all the time, in all different moods. Being frustrated, or exhausted, or depressed is much harder to hide in such close quarters. Everyone's stressing over finals. Some are sick, too, which totally sucks. We're all pulling hours pouring over textbooks and doing practice exams. I think that most of us know somewhere in the back of our minds that ten years from now, our scores on these finals won't really matter, but you wouldn't be able to tell that from how seriously we're taking the goings-on of next week.

It's like standing on the edge of a cliff. We've studied and studied and wish that it we could just JUMP, already.

And all of that tension and anxiety and impatience inevitably finds its relief through annoyance with others. Interaction right now is kinda like walking over ice while having no clue how thick it is. It could break at any time.

Yeah, we're going to need that month-long break. Badly.

In other news, Notre Dame is in the Sugar Bowl, but I didn't get a ticket from the lottery. I was divided over whether I wanted to go anyway- I had no clue how I would get there, it would be a big expensive hassle, I've already had the best away game experience ever (yesss I so swam in Spartan stadium on 9/23/06), and I've never watched a game with my family. It all worked out for the best. Go Irish!

Final bit of news... I got into the SSLP program through the Center for Social Concerns. Meaning that I will spend eight weeks of my summer somewhere in the US immersed in a non-profit, working with the poor and disadvantaged every day. I'm scared out of my mind, but I want to do this so much. As Maria noted in her post today, I know I'll learn way more from them than I could give to them. I still have to do a placement interview to find out where I'll be. This is probably the most adventurous, taking-it-on-faith thing I've ever done, but it feels right. I feel as called to this as I have to everything else that's been a right choice in my life. But at the same time, I'm only human and- eek.

Do you know what you are getting yourself into?

I'm getting into you, because you got to me
In a way words can't describe.
I'm getting into you, because I've got to be
You're essential to survive.
-Relient K, "Getting Into You"