To the edge, but not over it.

I've been feeling kind of doomy all week, and that, coupled with the fact that I've been remarkably prescient lately (like when I knew the yoyo that PJ was playing with would shoot off the end of the string. I was wrong about it decapitating me, but still...) really did make today's call-back visit to the Mammogram center a real bummer.
My First Time was last week, and went quickly- the tech was sweet and I could tell she has a lot of experience working with nervous women- but I didn't need a lot of comforting, I knew what to expect and it was such a quick process.
But they called me back, like she warned me (everyone warned me) that they might- it being my first time, with nothing to compare the pictures to, etc. etc... and today I headed back to the Breast Health Center. Scott came with me because he is the sweetest, most loving, most supportive person, really, in the entire world. I'm not even exaggerating. He had to wait in the waiting room all by himself the whole time, and it took a while.
They re-did my mammo's, then asked me to stay for an ultrasound. I finally got to go tell Scott what was going on, but then had to leave him again and head in to the ultrasound. While I waited, though, the women in the inner waiting room swapped stories and "what are you in for?" tales. One woman came back from her ultrasound and told us that they were sending her for a biopsy as a result of the ultrasound. I remembered reading that 1 in 9 women get breast cancer (really, that can't be right, right?) and counted the women I'd shared the waiting room with.
Ultrasounds have not been good to me, overall, and it was a weird feeling to be stretching out on another bed like that, with the same sheets, next to that machine again, staring at the ceiling again. It was hard not to feel gloomy.
The punch line is, everything's fine. The lovely tech checked in with me as I was leaving and I told her everything was fine- she said "I thought so... I wanted to say so but I'm not allowed!" Scott was waiting for me and I think not breathing for the whole time I was in there (which was about an hour and a half) and I was happy to tell him that Everything Is Okay. We hugged and smiled all the way to the car, and now, everything is back to normal. All is well. Thank God.

It's the October of my 40th year

Remember transformation in two-thousand-eightion? It's going well. I got my hair did, got my teeth cleaned, went for a physical. I still need to get glasses, and in December I'm having some major-to-minor surgery (that's a hint!) in early December. I haven't lost any weight... but I did start grad school! And, hey, I turned 40. That's something.
Maybe it's the anti-mid-life crisis. So far, so good- I feel like I've accomplished a lot, or at least have begun to accomplish a lot. It feels good! I'm even getting some good grades! My Mom told me the other day that I'm turning out to be smarter than they thought I was. So, that's always good to hear.
I think I'll extend the transformation year into 2009... finer in two-thousand-niner? I think it's fair to go straight through till my 41st birthday.

I'm so not Italian... but I'm a big fan of their food (and families)!

This weekend it was the circle of life, Italian style. I'm working on some good one-liners, like "more cleavage than an Italian wake" or, "how many black cows have to die for an Italian funeral?" They're still rough, I'm working on them.
We went to the funeral of a co-worker's father, and it was beautiful testament to the man and his family. He was a war hero, and a policeman in the town, then a restaurant owner- he built a royal family and was much respected- the line at 7:00 to enter the wake was a block long, and we waited an hour.
The funeral was impressive too, crowded. Scott leaned over at one point and said "not a lot of blondes here..." and I said "and NO natural blondes!" Sorry, I know, not nice... but Scott's half Italian so by marriage, I'm allowed. But anyway. There were 18 pall bearers, and so many people filed in with the family. The stories told about him were impressive- not just the stories of heroics on the job, but of his prayer life and deep faith.
Then, today, it was a Baptism- one baby (we usually have up to 6 at a time) and she was surrounded by a doting fan club- when the pastor asked the godparents if they were ready to support the parents in bringing the child up in the faith, they said "OH yeah!!" enthusiastically- and I believed them. There was a lot of love in that chapel.
The best part of working in a parish is being able to witness these moments in people's lives. Even the hardest times, in loving families, just brings focus to the one thing that bonds them together, keeps them strong, defines them as family- the love and devotion they have for one another.

Sorry Sandi, I'm sure it's pretty in Alaska too!

I have been loving Fall this year- our big tree is absolutely gorgeous right now and every surface outside is covered with red and yellow and orange. Walking out of the house feels like walking into a Fall-themed snow globe. And we've been blessed with days warm enough that coats are... optional! Here are some pictures from our yard this past weekend-

Some birds take advantage of our garden furniture:




































the last of the neighbor's tomato crop

And another thing... (two new posts)

I met with another wonderful young woman today who I met many years ago (it's hard to believe I'm old enough to say that- she was in high school when we met and now is in grad school. Yikes. But anyway...). We are a lot alike, I think, and both talk fast so though we don't see each other a lot, we get in a lot of talking when we do.
One thing I asked her today was "isn't it strange when your life begins to diverge from your friends' lives?" and she said "YES!!!" I was happy to know that this strange realization wasn't just something that I noticed...
(Like tonight I notice that I am writing rambling, too-detailed intros before getting to my point.)
I have a group of girlfriends with whom I worked at a group home (for adolescent girls) when we were in our 20's. It was hard work, full of drama and crisis and fun times and touching moments. Some of our group worked at the boy's home across town. Some of us worked there for years, others were more temporary. But our time there brought us together as friends, and we've made it a point to stay in touch and get together every now and again- we always have a blast.
But my life is not like their lives. They have kids, they live in communities and their lives sort of revolve around their families and their kids' schools and activities. I'm so not maternal or aunt-y. I'm not a babysitter and am too busy to go watch their kids' games or concerts or shows. I'm the Churchy one, working in a parish and pursuing a Masters in Churchy Stuff. They are all Christians of one type or another, but I'm the minister. I guess if I were more aunty I'd be more in-touch with their lives, but it is a commonly-held understanding that even if I visit one of them in the hospital after they have kids, they won't pass the baby to me. I just don't really know how to hold 'em. Well, I can hold them, but passing is beyond me.
But my friend and I today were amazed at the realization that what bonds us with our friends isn't our common life-plans, but our memories and our relationships at their very heart.
Anyway, my life is full and fun and I am happy in it, even if I feel a bit out of pattern when I visit with my friends, I still love seeing them, laughing with them, and hearing about their lives, as foreign to me as mine is to them, I expect.

Catholic Identity

This week I met with a young woman who I met when she was a middle schooler in my first parish. I remember her a slight, sweet girl with a happy smile- at the time I was doing an A-Z model for middle school youth group, where each week we did a different letter of the alphabet for our theme: apathy, bummers, caring, etc. The nights topped off with "can you __________ this?" It was "can you throw this?" "can you eat this?" etc. She beamed through every game and seemed like she loved it. I remember her smiling up at me and telling me how much she liked youth group, saying "You have the best prizes!"
She's an adult now- has gone to and graduated from college, and is now married to a Navy man and living in Virginia! She told me that she and her husband have found a church that they love down there, and she's feeling strong in her faith life, with this new faith community.
I asked her a question that I also recently asked another of my former youth groupers. "Do you still consider yourself Catholic?"
Of the three young women that I keep in touch with from this era/parish, one went to a Catholic college and the other two went to secular schools and/or Gordon College. Both of the non-Catholic school girls said, when I asked them that, "Not really." Both still have some connection to the Catholic Church through family and attend Mass when they come home from school, but they seem to have a deeper identity with Christianity as a whole, than with Catholicism.
I don't necessarily believe that staying Catholic is the mark of a good/effective youth minister, but it does make me think that YM's must must must focus on Catholic identity- helping kids find and form their identity as Catholic.
I'm not sure how this can happen- the young woman who has remained Catholic (enough to seek out Mass to attend while living in NYC on her own over the summer) comes from a strongly Catholic family, a Mass-going family. I imagine there's nothing a YM can do to trump a Catholic family, but... there must be something we CAN do.
As soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know...

Mt. 25:14-30

So when our parish went to knock down the old convent on our grounds we found a beautiful statue of Mary, tucked in between the bramble bushes in the cloister at the back of the building. But for one missing horn (under her feet) and a lot of dirt and grime and bird poop, she was remarkably pristine and we were overjoyed that she was in such good shape. It was resolved that she would be cleaned up and restored and put in the new park that was to replace the convent.
About a month ago, our priceless statue came back from where it had been restored, a glowing bright white and now smooth surface, it is absolutely beautiful. But what happened next is so interesting to me. The statue was installed, and with her, a sense of fear. What if it was vandalized? Someone would surely come along and spray paint her, break off her fingers, smash this beautiful and literally-priceless possession. So, soon, the talk started as to how to protect it.
Now there is an iron fence surrounding this statue, with a big steel padlock on it.
The whole thing reminded me, somehow, of all the toyshops I've been in where the owners of the store clearly hated kids. Maybe you too have been in toy shops where the person behind the counter eyes your child suspiciously or follows along behind you putting right everything a child has touched. That always blew my mind.
I guess owning something of value brings with it some pressure to keep it valuable, but a part of me wants to be generous and trusting of the people in our neighborhood. The statue could have easily been damaged in the many, many years it was hidden from view and now it is in plain sight, with heavy traffic going by it at all times of the day. But of course, I might be being naive. And maybe it's good enough for everyone to be able to admire this statue from a distance... but I dunno.

Day-trippers

Having two days off in a row, and a house that needs cleaning, and homework, and work to do for...work, we decided to spend Friday on a day trip (because hey, why not? We had a whole Saturday to get stuff done in). We headed toward Salem for coffee after lunch and I beat Scott at checkers, after phoning-a-friend (PJ, of course) to remind us how to play. It's been a while!
We went to Marblehead to find the Catholic Church there, called St. Mary Star of the Sea. Here's what she looks like:


















Then Scott took me to a cool nature conservancy in Salem, and led me along a path through tall grass and oak trees and over a swampy river. No mosquitos and not quite time for the sun to set, it was the perfect temperature, and not toooo muddy.


















Scott leads the way


















swamp corn












After that, we poked around in a Salem State College building that was formerly a Catholic school. One building led to another via bridge, then that building led to another by tunnel, and then came another tunnel. Scott loves checking out buildings like this, and while I get a little nervous about the trespassing end of it, he does make snooping fun.
























After our travels we went back to Salem for a dinner date and a walk around the Halloween-y section of town. It was a very romantic and fun day, and the work at home, well it waited patiently and was all there for us to do today.

so, how'd you do on your paper?

So.... I got to class today after already being at school for a couple of hours- I went in for the noon Mass and then had lunch with the other TCC students. There are only 5 of us- an elite group. The discussion was about how to get more people to come and do this program, but all I could think was that I don't particularly want the grant money that is now only divided between us 5 to be doled out to anyone else.
Anyway, at class, our professor started by announcing that the papers were fine first papers. She told us that a C+ is a passing grade and getting that grade should not discourage anyone, that their comments (hers and the Teaching Assistant's) were meant to help us develop the writing skills we'd need. She said they'd be giving feedback even if we got an A- (which would be an outstanding grade for a paper in this class).
Then, two hours and fifteen minutes of class.
Then, she handed out the papers. I grabbed mine and ran, it had no marks on the front page really but I could see the word "good" written twice on the second page- encouraging! I flipped over to page three for the grade...
A-!!! How about that?? I'm pretty excited. Now I have another paper to write, for tomorrow's class. I hope it goes as well. But in the meantime, Woo! A Minus!!! WOOOO!!!

studious

I'm happy to report that my study habits have indeed improved since my undergrad days. I actually do the reading now, and even take notes on what I read. I'm not sure which books I'll be keeping and which I'll be selling back to the bookstore for a serious loss (although it is becoming clearer as time goes by. Systematic Theology Vol. 1 is TOTALLY going back, because it is almost completely incomprehensible. And miserable. The authors start everything by backpedaling and parsing thoughts and such. Something like: Before we begin to talk about the existence of God, we must first explore the concept of existence. A, B, and C (theologians) all think existence is this, and we talk about it for four pages, each... but they are wrong. Existence is this... it's just excruciating, and I want to scribble in the pages JUST GET TO THE POINT BUSTER because it could, ultimately, be written in one sentence. So that book... GONE. ASAP.) so I have been taking notes rather than underlining and highlighting, mostly, which helps me process what I'm reading a bit better.
I promise a paragraph like that will never go in any of my papers. Promise.
As for assignments, I must confess though, not much has changed- I still can't seem to get a word in print until the day before it's due. Someone told me once that this is called "pre-writing," not "procrastinating," which I totally, totally agree with.
Tomorrow I may be getting my first paper back, which I may mention here tomorrow, depending on how I do. It might be time to get much more private about my studies.

Tag!

I spent the day (while lounging around watching old movies) tagging many of my blog entries. Not because I think you (dear reader) will ever want to go looking for any mind-blowing entries in the throes of nostalgia for my reading, but because nowadays, when I go to write about something, I often feel like I've written it before. With tags, I can see if I've already written a scathing comment on the Archdiocese of Boston's Office of Youth Ministry and Etc. or falling down my front steps and crying or my high school boyfriend. So, not much really has changed here for you (DR), but you can hereby assume that anything you read here is first-run.

Graduate level anxiety. In Georgia.

Oh gosh. My first two papers in... well, many years. They're little ones, three-pagers, and double-spaced (I forgot about double spacing, I probably would have gone back to school years ago if I'd remembered about double spacing... what a difference that makes in filling a page!) so the writing part isn't the hard part so much as the details of paper-writing. I can't remember the details.
Do I indent at every paragraph? Do I staple the pages? Number them? Am I plagiarizing and not even knowing that I'm doing it? What size font?
My first paper is for a professor who gave us two options of what to tackle. About a page on comprehension, about a page on analysis, and about a page on "good constructive thinking." She gave us a list of expectations and directions, really- a list- which we all furiously tried to scribble in our notes, then sent us off with these words "but don't stress about this!" We laughed.
I just spent a bit of time googling for help on these questions. I found an article by a grad student whose grades improved when she switched from Times New Roman to the Georgia font. Just to be sure I checked the Chronicle of Higher Education forums for a discussion there- they all mentioned both those fonts and I felt encouraged by their comments about Georgia, so I went ahead and changed mine over- which meant having to fiddle with the type size to fit it into three pages (exactly, as it turned out!), but they seemed pretty much equal, all things considered.
So, whether it's done right or wrong, one paper's done and one's still yet to be written. Wish me luck!

inform-form-transform

Tonight on my way home from work, I treated myself to an old time radio show. I listened to Lucille Ball's "My Favorite Husband" and the episode was called "Liz learns to swim." The basic premise was that Liz wanted to go to the beach for Summer vaca, while her husband wanted to go the the Weeping Willow Dude Ranch. (She explained that after one meal at the "chuck wagon", she knew why the willows were weeping_ good line!)
Her husband said he'd be willing to go to the beach if Liz would learn to swim. (We'll ignore the sexism that riddles these old radio shows and instead talk about the cool insight I got from the show. Hang on, here it comes!) Liz called her next door neighbor, who comes to her house, explains the physics of water displacement, has her try the swim strokes on the floor of their living room, and tells her proudly that she can swim.
It all made me think about the conversations we've been having at school about the primary goal of faith formation/catechesis/religious education. I read tonight that the goal of catechesis should be "spiritual maturity." However, for years our education programming has not been developed to reflect a goal anywhere near that. Today my professor described it as "pouring from a jug into a mug."
I'm thankful to be working at a parish which takes this idea seriously. I'm thinking particularly of education toward Confirmation. Work has been done in the past several years (by the brilliant youth minister) to broaden the scope of "sacramental prep" from just preparing for the sacramental moment of Confirmation day, to a lived way of life in faith that much more accurately describes the life that a Confirmed Catholic should be living. It makes a difference in the faith and development of young people and it makes a difference in the parish as a whole. It's a good difference.
The saying goes "sitting in Mass doesn't make you a Christian, any more than sitting in a garage makes you a car." You can't learn to swim by studying physics on a living room floor- it may help, but it is not the same as actually getting in the water and giving it a go.

Waaaaah!

I fell down the front steps at our house today, on my way out to work. I dropped everything I had in my hands (lunch, bag, keys, etc...) and ended up splayed across the steps with what I know will turn into a fantastic bruise.
I stood up, hoping no one had seen, and went in the house, and started to cry. And then I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't in pain, really, and I was glad to have been able to get up in one piece, but I just started crying and couldn't stop. Scott was indisposed but was yelling encouragement from where he was, but I didn't need help, really- I knew I just needed to keep crying until I was done.
Once I told a young girl in my youth group that crying is like sneezing. Sneezing, as I understand it, is designed to expel whatever irritant you have in your system. I think for me, and maybe for women in general (although I have not tested that theory) crying serves the same purpose- it gets out something that is irritating our emotional system. All during that crazy week when I felt so stressed out and overwhelmed, I didn't cry at all- so I guess I had some buildup.
I'm not an easy crier. I don't generally fall to tears at slight provocation, and although I may tear up at sad movies and such, that's about where it ends. But a few years ago, for my New Year's resolution, I decided that when I felt like laughing, I would laugh- and when I felt like crying, I would cry. So this morning, when I felt like crying, I just let it flow- even though I wasn't exactly sure what I was crying about. (I guess you don't have to worry over what I'm sneezing about when I sneeze, so maybe I don't have to worry so much about what I'm crying about, when I cry...)
The only drawback to this vow is that when I do cry, my upper lip swells. I end up looking... well, pretty scary, and it takes a while for it to come back down. Note: trust me, do NOT google-image "swollen upper lip."
Anyway, on with my day. Watch your step out there, ladies and gentlemen.

simple woman's day book for this week

FOR TODAY 09/12/08...
Outside My Window... the rain threatens, like it's done all day- the Sox are rained out but here it's just sprinkles.
I am thinking... about the delicious dinner we just finished. YUM, comfort food: meatloaf, mashed potatoes (with cream cheese and our own garden's chives and cheeeeeese on top) and brussels sprouts. I know, I know, but we like 'em, and we toss them (that is, slather them) with butter and parmesan cheese.
I am thankful for... the lazy day today- I keep reminding myself of the giddy fact that we have tomorrow off too- so nice!
From the kitchen... Oh, I guess I jumped the gun there... but later from my kitchen, brownies.
I am wearing... yoga pants! And a Life Is Good T-shirt. So, basically (and more fancifully named) Loungewear.
I am creating... next year's garden! I planted some bulbs today, and trimmed back the poor hydrangea that was slowly dying in the corner of the yard. I harvested some seeds from whatever that yellow flower is in my window box, and spread some forget-me-not seeds in the garden. I'm going to try bringing in several of my plants for the winter and see how we do. I'm going to let my ignorance of the wisdom of this plan be my guide.
I am going... to try to spread this rainy-day goodness well into tomorrow.
I am reading... I'm not, but I should be! I've got homework to do! Systematic Theology and Horizons & Hopes, and some articles.
I am hoping... that Scott will leap up from his seat and put the leftovers away and clean the kitchen.
I am hearing...the wind in the leaves outside my window. It's the perfect combination of Summer and Fall today.
Around the house... some laundry piled here and there, dirty dishes, books to be read, a bed to be made... you know, stuff that shouldn't be done on a lazy day like this.
One of my favorite things... is hot brownies and cold milk! Yeah! Coming right up!
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: dinner with the in-laws tomorrow night, a busy Sunday, and then back in the throes of things. This week we really hit the ground running at work, with all the fun (and I do mean fun!) that entails.
Here is picture thought I am sharing... oh gosh, let me see...
Here's a picture I took on the day of my birthday party, as the sky was starting to clear:

40 and free (two new posts)

I've been making a list in my newly-forty-year-old head of the things that I don't have to ever do again, if I don't want to. It's 'cause I'm 40, dammit, and I don't have to. Here are the ones I've come up with so far.
- be a bridesmaid
- wear really high shoes.
- go to a pool party
- try skiing again
- take a math class

This is not the definitive list, I'm sure I'll come up with more... I used to wonder how it felt for my parents, as they aged, to realize that there were things that they would never do again. My dad used to ski, and I remember wondering if, the last time he skied, he knew it was his last time. I have decided that as I age, I'm going to look at it differently, appreciating the things that I will never have to be burdened with again, instead of losing opportunities and experiences. Maybe someday, at a later age, the other list will start to lengthen, but for now, my growing list is of freedoms. This is fun stuff to think about.

An oasis in the desert of Boston

This week's was the first really ramped up Sunday of a hundred or so more to come before Easter and Spring come again. I am already swamped with work and lists of stuff to achieve and finish and deadlines, oh my.
But Sunday afternoon, after an already busy day, as people started to pour into the church for the 5PM Mass, I had to take a minute to look around. I saw people smiling, greeting each other, looking happy to be at the church. I saw a mother and daughter come in, ready to serve, and walk to the Sacristy together, smiling. I saw teenagers dip quickly and cross themselves as they passed by the Tabernacle, unembarrassed to do so. I saw adults greet teenagers, and teenagers waving at little kids. The music group was smiling and energetic and ready to roll.
I thought to myself how happy I am to be part of this parish. It feels like such a reward to be in a place so full of joy, with genuinely great leadership, amazing people, support at every turn, and no games being played.
I don't know how long this will last, but I hope it's for a long, long time.

items on map are more vertical than they appear (two new posts, read the next one first)

So, I had to do this quick little task at the bookstore- I had bought the wrong volume of Systematic Theology, which just so happens to be the book from which I am supposed to be reading this week. It was a simple, two minute transaction and I just needed to get in and out. In a jiffy.
I asked my classmates what would be the best place to park in order to do this, and they said "pretty much here" which is on another campus altogether. They said that my parking pass would only allow me to park in another garage on campus that was just about as far away from the bookstore as we were. They recommended I take the bus.
I decided to risk it and drove over to the main campus, and parked in the church parking lot on the edge of campus. I didn't have my map with me but I could see the giant crane over the building that was next to the building I was looking for, so I thought proudly that I had really done a clever thing by getting this close.
I headed out toward that crane, and turned the corner to see that from where I was, I would have to climb up 6 flights of stairs. I'm not even kidding! I soldiered on, climbing at a steady pace and didn't stop for a break like I wanted to, because there were young people coming up behind me. I did fine but at the top I had to wait until all the coeds dissipated so that I could pant and sweat in peace. A hundred yards more or so and I was met with a few more sets of steps. I harumphed my way to the bookstore, thinking only of how good this book had better be, and how we'd better be using it a LOT this semester and in future classes too, and how nice it was going to be to go DOWN all those stairs on the way back to my stupid car.
Anyway.
I was surprised to see the lawn littered with people trying to give me things. I got a couple of drinks (tea and juice) from some guy with a cooler, wearing a t-shirt with the drink brand on it. I got a coupon book that is basically only useful if you live near campus, and I got a whole box of stuff from the campus Hillel group- popcorn, another juice drink, deodorant and toothpaste! It's good to be a college student!

what did you learn today?

Today went better, except for a marathon trek across campus to the bookstore, but I'll get to that in a bit.
I am learning a lot about being back in school again, trying to gauge just how hard this is going to be to do and to manage. A whole new world has opened to me and it's a very nice but very uncomfortable place to be teetering. How much do I want to venture into this new world? I'm not in the market for a whole new passel of friends but I want to be friendly and I'm sure I'll need to be working with these people in the future. I'm sure friendships will happen, but I'm willing for it to take a while. I think I'll end up really liking my seminar class and my advisor, and I already know a couple of fellow students by sight and by name, so there you go. Am I being friendly enough though?
I forgot, again, how much it sucks to be new at something. I guess it's like they say childbirth is- awful and difficult and painful, but once you're past it you forget- at least enough to go ahead and make changes when you have to again, and be new again. I walked through the main campus today and saw all the undergrads pretending to feel so confident, and I'm glad to be old enough to NOT have to be that guarded. I know that next week it'll be easier, and the week after that... so, I'm not as worried as I may read here.
One thing that is going to have to change is that I need a new route to school, especially for the 10 am class. I know there are great back sneaky around-the-city routes, but I haven't gotten the word yet. Today I spent more time in the car getting to and from class than I did IN the actual class. Yeauggh. I learned that people lean on their horns in Boston, just like they do on New York tv-shows. I learned that when you're dead-stopped in Kenmore Square, you can get a good bit of reading done. I learned today that I already do know how to take notes (I was afraid it was a skill I had lost, or never really had- I remember a lot of doodling in college notebooks), and I learned that campus distances are often farther than they appear on the map. So, I'm learning all right!

smooth

Well it's my first day as a grad student and I already learned something! Today when I arrived at BC for my first class at 10:00, I learned that my first class is actually at 2:00. So, that's good.
When I was 18 and going away to college for the first time, I arrived at my dorm door a full day early, with a full van and sweaty palms, my parents at my side. My confused RA said "oh. No, tomorrow!" and we turned the van around and headed for home. The next day I arrived to a much livelier-looking campus and tried to pretend the whole thing had never happened.
This afternoon I reckon I'll do the same thing. At least I know which room my class is in- I will look so calm and cool that people will assume I'm a third-year student. And at least when I left my non-class this morning, I got a laugh- only one other student was in there when I went back to retrieve my book bag. He said, "leaving already?" and I said, "yeah, I've had enough..." Always leave 'em laughing.
So this afternoon I'm heading back to my first real class, and I hope it's as least as educational as my first non-class was!

Simple Woman's day book

FOR TODAY 09/01/08...
Outside My Window... it is GORGEOUS, but we are spending the day on our couches, napping and watching the Scrubs marathon. I know, we should be somewhere hiking or something! But the laziness of today has been delicious.
I am thinking... about dinner. The lazy day continues with a trip to the Outback, where you can get takeout without even leaving your car. No standing up!
I am thankful for... the $50.00 gift certificate to the Outback that I got for my birthday!
From the kitchen... yeah... today for lunch I had peanuts and lemonade. I've got to stop doing these things on the days that I don't cook, and instead, do them on the days that I make delicious, several-course meals. You know, about every-other-day.
I am wearing... I just erased "my pajamas" from the last time I did this, so I can write in... my pajamas.
I am creating... a plan to start getting healthy. No, seriously. I'm going to start walking again (but I should probably buy some new shoes, first. And I can't start this week until at least Wednesday, what with class tomorrow morning- oops, no, I have a morning meeting Wednesday. Thursday it is!!)
I am going... back to school tomorrow! My first first day of school since 1987. Tomorrow's class is Theological Foundations in Practical Perspective, and Wednesday's is the Total Community Catechesis Seminar. Woo! Go Eagles!
I am reading... the last secular book I'll probably get to read for the next four years. It's still When You Are Engulfed In Flames, by David Sedaris. It's so freakin' funny.
I am hoping... that I can do grad school work.
I am hearing... Scrubs. It's the Carla and Turk's wedding episode. Don't judge me.
Around the house... sleeping cats. I love living with cats, they are really just perfect. Or maybe that's just my cats. But they really are perfect.
One of my favorite things... to do on a day off is lounge around, I guess you've already figured that out. It's the beauty of more-than-one day off at a time, that one of the days I can spend doing chores, getting things done, errand-ing, and then I can do some hard-core slugging the next day. It's hard-earned sluggdom!!
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: classes, and work. It's crunch time at work, with Faith formation starting up, OH and PMS. I'm tearing up at the wedding on TV right now, Turk and Carla in a hospital room. Well, it's just so sweet! Bless their hearts...
Here is picture thought I am sharing... it's the suncatcher craft that I mentioned in my last daybook entry. It's flat marbles, glued one to another with fishing wire between. I think it looks pretty nifty!

And now, an update from Facebook.

Eight friends have rated your trustworthiness:

* You scored 1.6 out of 5 (Not Very Trusted).
* Your political power index is 13 (PAWN).

Who are these 8 friends?? Show yourself!!!

dear old golden rule days (two new posts)

And now, 21 years later, I'm about to have yet another first day of school! I went to the orientation day at BC last week. It was inspiring and optimistic, this day, and I left feeling pretty ready for the new challenge. I still had to pepper my friend (a recent BC grad...grad) with the questions I didn't dare ask at the orientation, but I did feel like I had a fairly good grip on things when I was done that day.
I sat through the pleasantries; welcome speeches, introductions of the staff and faculty, the pomp and excitement about this brand-new school (it's a combination of Weston Jesuit and BC's IREPM). Then they grouped us up and let us meet with a seasoned student, to give us tips and tricks about the grad student experience, I guess. After another round of welcomes and introductions, we met in small groups with our advisors. I'm excited about mine, she's been really helpful so far, and seems to give me credit for being a grown-up professional-type person.
After all that, I went to the main campus to pick up my parking pass ($230!!!) and ID, and bought my books ($115!). I watched the tour groups snake around the beautiful campus and thought how overwhelming this place must be for a first-year undergrad upon first arrival. So much going on, so much to take care of, and all that at an age where you still care so much about looking cool.
School starts Tuesday and I have all my notebooks and sharp pencils ready. I'll let you know as soon as I start to feel smarter!

drama geeks, coat people, stoners, mathletes

Quiz time! When you were in high school, what clique were you in?
Last night we caught a little bit of Definitely Not The Opera on the radio and heard a pretty interesting story. A woman reporting from her own 20th high school reunion was exploring the myths about high school, and interviewing her former classmates. It was a great show overall, but what struck me was this bit:
She was talking about cliques (which in Canada, apparently, they pronounce like "cleeks")- she said that as she remembered herself in high school, she wasn't part of a clique. I nodded as I listened, because I don't think I was in any particular clique, either- I remember being part of a bunch of different groups- the drama crowd, the cheerleaders, the music people, the ultra-popular (just kidding about that last one).
The interesting thing was, she interviewed her classmates and found that none of them thought they had been in a clique. None of them! They all considered themselves "floaters" with friends of all kinds. Get that? ALL of them! But when she asked them to tell her what clique they remembered her being in, they all could tell her.
So, what's the reality? Are there no actual cliques in high school? Did we all just label each other and each other's groups of friends?
I think I missed some good opportunities at this last reunion, what with being pregnant and self-conscious the whole night. I wasn't as bold as I wish I'd been, to seek out the people who I should have connected with, to find out who my old friends had become. I hope at my 30th, I can get a better look at my past.

Take and Eat

I just stopped by the chapel in a doomed attempt to visit with the Lawd. Adoration and/or prayer before the Tabernacle have never been my Spiritual Thing. I am too antsy and fidgety and too easily distracted. But that's not the real reason that I have never taken to Adoration.
Every time I sit in front of a tabernacle, my eyes settle on the flame in the candle that is always nearby. I know the flame is not meant to be a representation of Jesus, and the object of my adoration is meant to be the True Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist within the tabernacle. But to me, the messages that both items send are so contrary. Jesus is better personified to me through the light-giving, ever-burning, warmth-emitting, living flame. To have the True Presence locked into a strong, heavy, dark box on a platform. The flame says, to me, GO! DO SOMETHING! Where the message I hear about Jesus from the tabernacle is "Sit and stare at the box I'm in." I've said that for me, adoration is like a starving person to sit and stare at a sandwich to receive nourishment. Eucharist, the way I understand it, is a verb- food for the journey, for the mission at hand. Every Sunday, we become tabernacles, and there's no reason for one tabernacle to sit and meditate in front of another one.
I do know that for some people, Adoration is inspiring and wonderful and life-changing. I don't believe that everyone should stop adoring Jesus in the tabernacle or the monstrance. We all have our special devotions that we are called to. Mine is not seated position.. well, not for long!

Who do I say that I am? (two new posts)

Tonight before Mass a woman came over and took me by the arm and asked to talk to me. She said she reads my columns in the bulletin and said "and I think you have a heart for God." I said "oh thank you!" but she stopped and said "well, do you? Do you have a heart for God Margo?"
I was kind of taken aback by this questioning. I mean, I do love God, and am a Christian, and a Catholic, and all that... but to say "Oh yeah! I have a heart for God!" Well, it felt sort of like bragging.
Soon after graduating from college, I moved here to MA and soon after that, I moved into a house with some musicians. Whenever I would meet their friends, they'd ask "are you a musician?" I never knew how to answer. I loved music, love to sing, had studied and performed music in college, (hey I was lead singer in a rock and roll band!) but it just seemed to impressive to be considered A Musician.
And it felt very much the same when I was confronted with today's question. "Do you have a heart for God?" I guess, if she's asking what I think she's asking, then the answer is a proud "yes." I guess the challenge is more to my decision to commit to this title. Yes, I have a heart for God and that will effect the choices I make tomorrow, and every day. Just like in the Gospel today, I am asked not to report on my state of being, but to decide who I am, and how I will respond to the fact that I know that Jesus is the Christ.

I almost wrote, "synchronized swilling" but I DID get to see some of that this weekend.

Awww, the Olympics are over. I loved just about every minute. I soaked up as much gymnastics/swimming/volleyball/diving that I could, skipped the soccer pretty much and ignored the basketball. I tried watching water polo but I couldn't stop worrying about the poor horses.
(Sorry, my last chance to use that joke for another 4 years!)
I won't miss the sound of a whistle, which interrupted water polo every 2 seconds or so, and I won't miss that gymnastics commentator who said that everything was "big." (This is a BIG routine for her. BIG move there! Ohh that's a BIG mistake. Big Big BIG!) I won't miss the way they make you so nervous, watching... and I won't miss the McCain ads that peppered the broadcasts. But other than that I am awfully sad it's over. I will miss getting to know about the athletes, and will miss learning about new sports. I feel like I didn't get to see many of the non-mainstream sports- I saw table tennis and badminton, but didn't see any synchronized swimming or... what are they called, rhythmic gymnastics? That's kind of a bummer. Next time, I guess.
Now we move on to the spectacle of the political conventions. I hope they're peaceful.
But first... the closing ceremonies... a little weird, no? I'm all for creativity but it felt kind of Willy Wonka-ish for the first part. I loved watching the athletes have fun and smile smile smile, and was pleased to know that Jimmy Paige is still kicking it old school. (still kicking, really. Good to know.) The climbing tower of red and silver people was very cool. My sister had just given up on the ceremonies being neat-o and signed off AIM to go to bed when that part of the festivities began, so I hope she didn't miss it.
Ah, the olympics. Thanks for a good 17 days of distraction from reality! See you in four!

off to school

So my nephews are going off to college this week and next, and I can feel their worries and nerves and excitement through the air all the way from Maine to Massachusetts. I remember how I felt, leaving home to go off to college, the biggest life- change I had experienced up till then. But more than that, I remember walking with young people through this time in their lives as a Youth Minister. The waiting and anxiety of waiting for that envelope to come, tears and disappointment of being rejected or wait-listed by a college, the joy and relief of having been accepted, the fears that their choice of schools would turn out to be a wrong choice... and then, the time coming to actually GO to college.
I don't know how many young people I've seen off to college in my career, but there have been a lot, and one thing that always strikes me is how, like coins dropping only into the slot meant for them, kids end up in the Right Place. So many kids' second choice, "safety" schools, have ended up being just where they should have been all along. If there is ever a time in a young person's life when I've seen the Holy Spirit at work, it's been in choosing colleges. It isn't necessarily an easy transition, or a an instant joy, but somehow it always ends up that kids land where they're meant to.
So I feel confident and excited for the boys even as their confidence may be starting to waver. I know that God has plans for them and knows where they should be. I hope they love college from the moment they step on campus- and I hope they grow closer to God while they're farther away from home.

It's all good.

Is this saying making a comeback?


I went to Staples last week to buy a memory card for my new camera (did I mention how AWESOME my new camera is?), and the young girl who waited on me at the checkout counter bagged the card for me. I said "Oh, I don't need a bag, sorry, I should have said that" and she smiled warmly at me and said "It's all good!"
I have to admit that her response did cheer me, not that I was blue to begin with but her smile and laid back reply made me smile. She was right, it was all good!
Since then I think three people have said the same expression to me. Is it a cool quip these days? If it is, or if it isn't, I guess, either way, it's all... right with me.

itchy itchy itchy, scratch scratch scratch...

I've decided that itching is the worst feeling. I used to think it was having to go to the bathroom desperately but the thing with that is, you can go to the bathroom and alleviate the problem (and feel the BEST feeling in the world... well, it's right up there).
I guess I've done pretty well over the past few years to avoid mosquito bites but this year I'm riddled with them. Add to that other itches of other types, including the nasty itchy eyes that have been plaguing me all day (and making me look weird), and I have been a very uncomfortable girl as of late. (By the way we deduced that the Yoda eyes and the blotchy red face I now have are a result of a sample size of lotion I tried this week.)
You know, the thing about many itches is that you mustn't scratch them, because that just makes them itch more! That is just evil, and proof that the devil exists. I recently decided that instead of a last meal, the night before I die, I will spend it rubbing my eyes because that just feels so good, but if you have to look okay the next day then you can't indulge yourself. You must just let it itch. Agony. I can't imagine how people with psoriasis get out of bed in the morning. God bless Benadryl and all the other itch-fighters out there.

Thank you for my new camera!!

It is AWESOME!!!!!
(click on the image to see the freckles on the whiskers of the bee! It's got THAT much detail!!)

Now We Are Four-ty

Today I woke up looking like Yoda. Is this what it's like to be 40?
My eyes are completely swollen and puffy. And on new license picture day!





Oh well. Other than that, 40's pretty good so far. The party was a sure blast, and I felt so proud and lucky (blessed) to have such an amazing assortment of friends and family. The guests ranged from parents in-laws and siblings and nephews to Youth Ministry friends to some of my oldest (meaning long-time) friends to two of my "kids" (now 21) from my first parish. To me it felt like a great resume, a list of proud achievements to brag about. Look at all these wonderful people in my life! And there are even more than this- not all the people I love could be there.
PJ made us all Margo-ritas, and I heard him and Kristen saying "why haven't we always called them that?" which made me laugh. I gave tours of our sweet home and felt proud, and watched my husband shine and felt proud of that too.
Oh did I mention that at 4:00, the exact start time of the party, a very very dark cloud loomed over us, and fat raindrops fell, and seriously the loudest clap of thunder ever recorded rang out above our house? I was inside giving a tour but my family was out under the metal-frame tent in the driveway, under the giant tree. It didn't look good for us but soon after, it cleared and the guests started to turn up. It reminded me of our very rainy (read: monsoon) wedding day, another day that makes me so happy to remember.
So thank you dear friends for being here, for being there! If my life has been this good for 39 years, I can't wait to see what 40+ brings.

It's my birthday!

Well not really, actually. But today is my birthday party! I am not the kid who had a big birthday event party every year as a kid. Birthdays were family events; dinner, cake, presents. My brother Chris' birthday is 2 days before mine (that is, TODAY). One year my Mom and sister Nancy worked to throw us a big birthday party to which we could invite 2 or 3 friends each. It was a BLAST, with a really cool scavenger hunt that had us running all over our neighborhood from the cemetery to the library to the memorial building. I remember that Chris' team beat ours because we just could not find what turned out to be the largest tombstone in the cemetery... Looked everywhere. Oh well, it was a really fun day.
So today is the big 4-0 party, and Scott's been working his patoot off to clean up the yard. There's a little tent out there and lights and tiki torches and all. I'm really excited (despite the calls for HAIL) because so many of my friends and family members will be here. For a humble/lovable character like myself (and Underdog) it's a weird sensation being the subject of a big party. I keep saying "is it too greedy? will people think I'm a self-centered jerk?" Silly, I know- I never went to someone's birthday party thinking "How DARE THEY???"
So, it's just a matter of getting myself spit-shined, excited (no prob. there) and ready to go. Happy Birthday to me! (and Chris!)

kinda fluey

I bravely dressed and went in to work today briefly, just long enough to get everything set for Baptisms, and then hit the road and ultimately, the couch, again. I am not sick to my stomach, but I don't feel like eating, which is HIGHLY unusual for me. I feel, just... kinda... wonky. Sluggish, tired, energy-free. I looked up Tetanus shot reaction and this, I think, is what they mean when they say "mild flu-like symptoms." I also read that you can expect possible "fussiness" and "Crying nonstop for 3 hours or more." Luckily neither of those have happened... yet.
My shooter (the woman who gave me the shot, that is, who I, weirdly, THANKED afterward) said that if my injection site got hot or red, I should call the on-call, they would probably prescribe me some antibiotics. And, you know, my site is indeed hot and red... but overall I just don't see calling the doc. about it- any doctors or nurses out there reeling in horror at this picture? Do advise.
PS, it looks worse if you sit back from the screen a bit. There, see?

40,000 mile checkup (two new posts)

So, yeah, I'm turning 40. I had my physical yesterday (and got the aforementioned Tetanus shot) and for the first time, brought a list of things I wanted to remember to chat with my doctor about. A LIST!! Yikes. There were only 5-6 things on there, so maybe that's not so bad.
But the good news is, I'm in good shape. Well, no- I'm in terrible shape, but I'm healthy overall.
I was pretty excited because our PCP just retired, and transferred us to another practice in the building, and so my physical was supposed to be with a young pip of a thing who treated me for a breathing thang I had back in the Spring. Her name was Dr. Ally, I kid you not. She was, I think, about 13 years old and had a terrificly chic outfit on the day I met her, accented with a pink stethoscope. I know the maxim is to choose a lawyer who's older than you and a doctor who's younger, but really, this was too much.
Anyway, apparently Dr. Ally has moved on and I got to go back to one of the Nurse Practitioners from my old doc's office, and I was quite glad. She's wonderful and didn't make me feel too old or too fat. Now I've got a bunch of follow-up stuff to do- blood test, a trip to see this kind of doc, a trip to see that kind of doc. The older I get, the more doctors I get to visit. And I'm healthy!

It's time again... simple woman's daybook

FOR TODAY 08/09/08...
Outside My Window... what may be a couple hundred crows are cawing and yelling in the high treetops. Crows give me the creeps, and we try to discourage them in our own yard (by the vicious clapping of our hands... tough, we are) but they live somewhere nearby, and every night around 6 they start flocking back and forth and yelling like middle schoolers at a dance.
I am thinking... about the Olympics. I love the Olympics, and although I am not generally a major sports fan, I drink up every bit of whatever is shown on the Olympics. I love the patriotism and spirit and emotion and the thrill of victory, and yes, the agony of defeat. I lounged in front of the tv all day feeling wonky from a tetanus shot, and saw fencing, volleyball, team handball, beach volleyball, swimming, crew, cycling, and badminton. Badminton! Everything is interesting in the Olympics.
I am thankful for... my health, on this day of minor misery- I had to get the tetanus for grad school, and didn't know it would sideline me for (hopefully only) a day. Fortunately it's a good day to stay inside and... yep, watch the Olympics!
From the kitchen... not much! My energy level is near zero. Sorry husband! Last night we got Chinese food to eat while watching the Opening Ceremonies and talked to a real Chinese guy about China!
I am wearing... yeah, my pajamas.
I am creating... a deep divot in my chair cushion. But last week I did a really cool craft project! I made a nifty suncatcher for our porch. I'll try to get a good pic. of it for you to see.
I am going... back to work tomorrow, with a Baptism at 1:00 (well, three Baptisms). But until then, I'm going nowhere fast!
I am reading... Today wasn't a total waste of time, I caught up on Dot's Diary and then read a lot about Bikini Atoll, the site of A-bomb tests by the US after WWII.
I am hoping... to feel better soon, and that it will be sunny and dry next weekend.
I am hearing... those damned crows and Scott hosing something down in the driveway.
Around the house... the gloaming is setting in. Time to turn on the lights inside.
One of my favorite things... Did I mention I love the Olympics?
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Ahhhhh this is my last week before vacation, and that means I'll get a ton of work done. Next Saturday we celebrate my big 4-0... so that means we will have a lot to do around the manse, getting everything set to go.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...




Our cat Pip waiting patiently for someone to turn on the faucet so she can take a drink.



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We Are Fam-Ily...

So, tomorrow we head to Bangor for the Family Reunion. This is my mother's side of the family, and it's an event that most of my siblings avoid at all costs (and it does cost). Each year we are urged to visit with this branch of the family tree either at the Lobster Feed (no, we don't feed lobsters, silly- we feed ON them) or the Christmas party, held also in Bangor, on the day after Christmas. I've been avoiding both events for as many years as I can get away with, and this year we have a wedding the day after Christmas (how cool is that??) so we are compelled to make our appearance.
I have a bad attitude about this side of the family, I admit it. But I think I come by it honestly- my tea-totalling family always felt a bit out of place at the Smith parties, and I think that while we thought they were crass drinkers who mocked us for our virtuousness, they probably thought we were snobs. I was born at an awkward gap in the relative span, too young to be noticed by my older cousins and too old to be interested in our younger cousins. At Thanksgiving, I always ended up hanging out in the room where the men hung out, because their conversations were so much more interesting than the women's, and because they acknowledged my existence so much more than the women did.
In recent years, we've all been turned off by the big water fight that ends each lobster feed- and again the snob/aloof thing has loomed between us and the rest of the clan.
But, you know, maybe I've just gotten into the habit of not liking to go to these things. I mean, hey, I drink now too, and maybe that'll make the lobster feed a whole heck of a lot more fun! Maybe they'll be more interested in me now that I've become so impressive, and have a handsome husband to show off. And the rumor is there's no more water fighting- so, I am going to go into this with an open mind. Maybe I'll make a new/old friend- and if not, I'll take my lobster to where the men hang out, and get my credit for showing. Mom will be happy, either way. That's worth a lotta points!

Okay, Me worry. A little.

Oh I remembered a couple more worries, both food related- I worry that I have food in my teeth, and I worry that I have gross eating habits and everyone knows it but me. Did I mention that sometimes I worry that people didn't have a good time at my wedding?

Yeah, but that's pretty much it.

This! Is! Alphabeat!

THIS is the song that got me hooked on the band that I am currently hooked... on. Alphabeat is a great little band from across the pond, for whom English doesn't appear to be their first language, but who keep me singing and dancing through their whole album (except for a couple of slow tracks near the end...)
Here's my challenge to you: watch this video twice and see if you don't start craving that beat! Then, go buy the album! It's darn catchy!

Staycation

I found out recently that there's a word for my favorite kind of vacation: a STAYcation. It means you take time off from work, but stay home. I guess I'm pretty cutting edge because I've been doing this for years. As I've written there's not many places I'd rather be than home. I love to travel but due to my "lifestyle choice" (aka choosing a career in a less than lucrative ministry- CATHOLIC ministry, even)- it seems that most of my travel opportunities revolve around professional conferences. That's not a bad deal, really- conferences have taken me to Denver, Pittsburgh (okay that was the least exciting), Florida and Las Vegas (yes! apparently it's a cheap place to hold conferences...). I'm working on getting our pastor to book us for the LA Congress or the NPCD conference, both in California next spring. Hey, it's for the learnin'!
My husband's away this week at camp with his youth ministry. I'm jealous, because I know this trip will be great (It's with the Catholic Heart Work Camp crew) but also, I'm looking forward to a week-long taste of my single, Margo Tyler Moore days. Whenever Scott goes away, I miss him a lot, but do assert my alone-hood by making a few unauthorized changes. I put all the shades up just a bit higher, leave the lid of the toilet seat up, leave the bed unmade... fun stuff like that. I change the blinds in the bedroom so that I wake up to sunshine, unlike Scott who likes the bedroom to look a bit like the inside of a pocket.
By the end of the week I will not be able to wait to see Scott again. Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. Gosh, I miss him already.

No worries!

I mentioned something to my sister that I was worried about (nothing serious) and she asked me, "you worry?" I was kind of surprised by her surprise, actually. Do I strike people as a non-worrier? Oh I'VE got WORRIES! (Nothing serious, though. Well, in fact, let's see...

I worry about Scott dying. Not enough that it keeps me up at night but enough that I worry when he's late or I haven't heard from him in a while.
I worry about oversleeping on important mornings.
I worry when a motorcyclist passes me on the highway and he's only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, that he'll skid and crash and I'll have to witness it.
I worry that I'll need to give CPR someday.
I worry about getting pregnant.
I worry that my friends will ask me to babysit.
I worry, in the winter, about falling down and hitting my head.
I worry about catching the flu from my friends.
I worry that secretly, everyone thinks I'm kind of a jerk!
I worry that my pastor will be transferred.
That's all I can think of. Maybe I am pretty worry-free. Well that's good news!
I'm sure I'll come up with additional worries... I'll let you know.

UPDATED: Oh I remember! I worry whenever I get to a meeting or event, that I'm there on the wrong night, or at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Right! Yes, I worry about that. Okay.

Thinking about this reminded me of a great story that was part of a This American Life episode, about a guy who made a list of his fears, and now it's a published book- you can hear his story here, it's act 2.

Although I am no simple woman...

and you can do it too...

FOR TODAY 07/22/08...
Outside My Window... another rainstorm swings through the yard. No thunder tonight, though. It's the best-sounding rainstorm we've had in a while, and I'm glad for the coolness and water for the garden.
I am thinking... about the stressful day we had- a lot of awful stuff in one day, and I'm glad that a fresh new day looms ahead. In fact, I'm going to go all Sabbath-keepy, and consider it a new day now.
I am thankful for... the relationship I have with my husband, for how strong we can be for each other, and how much we can trust each other when we're not strong.
From the kitchen... oh it looks like I picked the wrong day to start a simple woman's day book... Scott had awful asian noodle microwavy stuff, and I had a bowl of cereal. We were just a bit too spent to cook!
I am wearing... comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt.
I am creating... nothing crafty- but at work I'm putting together a nifty brochure.
I am going... to miss Scotty next week, as he heads off to work-camp. But I'm planning to get a lot achieved while he's gone.
I am reading... OOOh just finished "Bonk" by Mary Roach, it was AWESOME, and hoo-boy did I learn a lot! For instance, did you know that cheddar crumbs placed in front of copulating rats will distract the female, but not the male? Next up, David Sedaris' new book "When You Are Engulfed In Flames"
I am hoping... for a peaceful and overall okay tomorrow.
I am hearing... bits of music from my itunes, as we play with Scott's new iphone, which has an app that can identify songs that it hears. So Jetsons.
Around the house... are sleeping cats and unfinished chores.
One of my favorite things... ways to spend a weekend is doing nothing, and that's our plan for this weekend. Yay!
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: my brother's coming on a layover visit Friday night and that means we can hang out on Saturday morning for a while. His visits are always fun and we're glad when he doesn't have to rush off too early.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...
This picture is on the business card we hand out at conferences and such, it says our names and "Youth Ministers" below the picture.










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Prods Among Us

I didn't blog much about the workshop week we attended a couple of weeks ago- the one on Christian Practices- and what I did say, I know, was a bit jumbled. But one thing about the week that struck me was something that wasn't on the syllabus.
There were a few Protestants among us, in the group of about 50 of us. Two were Lutherans (a religion that I'm intrigued by, I'll admit, after watching a PBS doc. about Martin Luther a couple of years back)- one an interim pastor at an Episcopal parish and the other her faith formation director. Also in attendance was a Presbyterian minister. I learned some interesting things about how their clergy work in their respective religions (including the baffling fact that in the Presb. guy's church there were something like 50 ordained clergy! How does that work?) and that Episcopal and Lutheran churches can share clergy- but not on a permanent basis.
But what really struck me was the effect that having some "Prods" as my uncle Bud used to call them, in amongst our mostly Catholic group. I was interested to see that when the Presb. guy (sorry to keep calling him that) referred to scripture, he seemed to expect us to know exactly what he was referencing- and it wasn't that we were all dolts, staring gape-mouthed at him whenever he mentioned the Bible, but there was a difference there. The impressively educated , professional Catholic faith formation people in the room were well versed in Maria Harris but... I guess the difference was, our knowledge was purely Catholic.
I mentioned already here the difference in perception between us- about how when the PGuy (better?) mentioned being "outside your faith tradition" the Catholics among us assumed he meant "Protestant"- not, say, Muslim or Buddhist, etc... I thought that the Protestants seemed to know more about Catholic teaching and tradition than we did about theirs- and it was interested when they would ask questions like "what do you mean when you say a 'reconciliation service'? Everyone goes at once? But they have to do individual confession? Huh, that's interesting..."
On the last day of the workshop we were talking about involving parish groups in each other's activities- like involving the whole parish when the Youth Ministry has a Fast-a-thon or what have you. The PGuy told a story about a church where they commissioned their youth during a church service- the group was making pb&j sandwiches for the homeless. The PGuy beamed as he told about the kids actually making their sandwiches ON THE ALTAR during the service. I had to laugh (I laugh too much) at the polite reactions in the room among the Catholics- everyone smiled and nodded at the PGuy but the tension in the room was palpable. ON THE ALTAR???? It was funny. Our leader, when we had all swiveled around to face him again, was grinning. He said "sometimes... it's great to be Presbyterian!"

Home Sweet Home

Just now Scott called me outside to watch the lightning that was striking over the airport that we can see from our yard. It was very cool out there- there were strikes every few minutes, but no thunder- and the wind was tossing the tops of the large trees in our neighborhood, making them wave in slow motion. The wind was a warm, delicious wind that I love to be in. But here's the thing- my first thought was "ooh I should go check my email to see if there's an accu-weather alert!"
When did my first reaction to nature become the urge to go google what I am seeing?
I do love my computer and using the web. I don't know how I ever watched a movie without scanning imdb.com- and I love the instant answers I get to all my questions. I have an old paperback dictionary with a list on the back that I started in high school, I called it "WTLU" which stood for "words to look up" because they were not in the dictionary. Now, I look up words all the time, among other important facts and figures that it is vital for me to know.
And as much as I love being outside, my happy place is indeed in my home. I love this apartment- the bedroom is cozy and romantic, the kitchen is cute and homey, the bathroom is fresh and crisp-looking and the living room is my happiest place of all. My chair suits me perfectly, I love watching tv and surfing the web, and it's just a pretty cool room overall. The loveseat across the room from my chair is so comfortable for napping that I sometimes slip out there at night if I can't get settled in bed.
I love home, not just since we've lived here but wherever home is/has been. I have a near-physical need to GO HOME after being away for a certain amount of time, and when I'm feeling ugly or sad or lost, it's at home that I need to be.
I'd like to believe that I could travel the lands like a hippie or an adventurer, but the truth is, home is my favorite place to be.

get a saddle

In recent days, I had a conversation with a beloved young lady who complained to me that everyone she knew was "jumping down her throat." I wanted her to know that criticism is important to hear, and although that can be painful, there's something vital to be learned from every jumper.
As I told her this, I heard the words echo in the back of my head from my days working in a treatment/school facility- they were printed on a paper hung on the bulletin board in the staff office:

If one person calls you a horse— laugh at him. If a second person calls you a horse— think about it. If a third person calls you a horse— get a saddle.

I remember being where she is now- In college I was told that I could never fully understand myself because there are elements to me that only the outside person can see- like having a "kick me" sign on my back. That insight was a stunner, because up to then, I felt that I knew myself completely, and that anyone who disagreed with me just didn't understand. But I had to accept, at least eventually, that it's true- I have a limited ability to know myself from in here behind my face, and so it's important to hear what others say about me, good and bad- so I can get an ever better understanding of who God made me to be, and how I'm doing at the job of being me.
One day at a shopping center parking lot a friend drove up to me and said she had spotted me driving in, and knew it was me, because she could see I was whistling and I am always whistling. I was shocked! I always whistled? I had no idea that I whistled often enough that it would be an identifying trait. Once she pointed it out to me, I found out she was right-I do whistle a lot.
A young man in the school I mentioned above wrote me a note when he graduated. He said "I hope you always laugh too much." That one really made me think- do I laugh too much? Do I laugh more than other people? He was right too- I do laugh a lot, and I catch myself laughing at things that no one around me is laughing at. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I feel like Alex, the note-writer, was appreciating this odd trait of mine, and I guess I appreciate it too. I'd rather laugh too much than cry too much.
I'm not good at taking criticism... I've been told that... but after my initial reaction I do mull over what I hear, and the criticism and feedback I've gotten from people in my life have helped me become the kind of person I want to be- on my journey toward becoming the kind of person God wants me to be.

Stuff to think about (two new posts)

Here are the great quotes and concepts from day one:

• Christianity must be presented as a Way Of Life, rather than a system of belief.
• Christianity must counteract the Smorgasbord lifestyle that modern families face, instead of being one of the dishes on the buffet.
• REAL SIMPLE is the best selling magazine in the country right now. Why? People are hungering for a way of life.
• Ideas can be “inert”- like inert gases, they just sit there, never mix with any others, never do anything.
• The old model of Faith Formation can be described as a Banking Model. This model deposits information into the person’s head, and hopes for good dividends down the road.
• We have a presenter who is Presbyterian- today he was talking about the practice of Hospitality, and asked us to share a story of when we experienced hospt. when visiting a faith outside of our tradition. Immediately all us Catholics thought of the friendly receptions we’ve gotten from Protestant Churches- huh. Only the Lutheran among seemed to know that he meant OUTSIDE our tradition- as in, not Christian. It struck me how separate we are from our peers in the Christian community.
• “She believes that by teaching her children to sleep (well), she is teaching them to die (well).”
• One thing families say they won’t do at home is study the faith.
• Young people want to be marked deeply by their experiences. This is why we see so much tattooing, piercing, etc… How do we help young people gett hat experience from faith formation/faith? The speaker gave the example that everyone gets injured on a (good) mission trip- bearing great "battle scars" of their time in service. Just a thought...

More tomorrow. They are long, marathon days (tomorrow's 9am-9pm) packed with mind-bending stuff. I'll keep you posted.

Christian Practices

So, every year I try to get to one of John Roberto’s institutes- last year I blogged a lot about it, you can read back about it here- and this year I’m in Connecticut with a bunch of great people for the Summer Seminar on Faith Formation in Christian Practices.
John is an inspiring teacher, full of great information and ideas- he is a walking best-practices resource. I love these weeks because they fairly make my head explode with ideas and inspiration and a fire under my butt. I get this feeling of energy and urgency at these weeks that drives me for the rest of the year.
So… Christian Practices concern the things that people DO as Christians. John, and the Valparaiso Project (more about them later) define Christian Practice in much the same way as a doctor has a practice, or a lawyer has a practice. Christians, they say, have a practice too.Here’s the definition Dorothy Bass gives (of the VP):

Christian practices are shared patterns of activity in and through which life together takes shape over time in response to and in the light of God as known in Jesus Christ. Woven together, they form a way of life.

Got that? Okay, here are some of the practices we are talking about this week:
Honoring the Body
Hospitality
Household Economics
Saying Yes and Saying No
Keeping Sabbath
Testimony
Discernment
Shaping Communities
Forgiveness
Healing
Dying Well
Singing Our Lives
There are more, but these are the original ones identified by the VP.

Today we talked a lot about how we (and the people in our parishes) already do so many of these practices without necessarily identifying that they are- and, that when given a chance to share their stories, they will (like we are) learn to see their daily practices as connections to their faith.

It’s kinda hard to describe. Check out the website at www.practicingourfaith.org and the teen version at www.waytolive.org
because I’m sure they explain it there better than I do, so far. But after tomorrow…

who's your unibrow baby?

I used to believe that everyone needed someone to... well, kinda... hate. I thought, hey, every story needs a villain, right? Maybe if we all channelled all our hatred onto one person, we wouldn't hate so many other people.
Sometimes I still catch myself falling into that, letting something create a grudge in me and I do have a hard time letting those somethings go, sometimes.
But lately I have been hearing things about forgiveness, and letting go. I read today about a man who decided not to hate. He said (and I am summing here-) that one day he just said "enough." Now, when he feels anger, he reminds himself by saying "enough." Sounds easy...
Yesterday I heard the story of the girl from that famous photo from Vietnam, and how she learned to forgive. It was certainly convicting- go read it or listen to it here, and pay close attention to the last line. It's a hum-dinger!

Expecting

I imagine that turning the Big 4-0 is a different experience for people who have kids. I can only guess that when you have kids, you must measure your life against theirs, to some extent- and that turning 40 with kids who are 5 years old must mean something different than turning 40 when your kids are 20 years old. Know what I mean? My mother had 5 kids when she was my age- FIVE! The thought of one kid overwhelms me.
But not having kids means all I really have to measure my life against is myself, my own dreams for where I would be at this point in my life.
When I got my first Youth Ministry job, I had no way of knowing that I would end up with a heart for faith formation- NEVER dreamed I'd be going to grad school for religious education- I hadn't any idea how much I would suffer in my vocation, never thought my faith would be shaken like it has been, and never in a million years would have envisioned the job I'm in right now, NOT in youth ministry and loving it like I do.
When I told my spir. director how excited I am in my life right now, with so much great stuff on the horizon, so many opportunities for growth coming toward me, she asked how it felt to be in the "not there yet" phase. I said "it feels like pregnancy- like women must feel when they're in happy pregnancies- happy and hopeful and dreamy, excited for the future. It feels like the kind of pregnancy I want!" She said "woah- Margo!" and she was right. Woah. I am feeling all the hope and courage and excitement that I didn't feel when I was pregnant with a baby.
So here I am, almost 40 (about a month and a half to go!) and Expecting.... great things.