Willing.

I'm trying to resist God's will. And when that happens I'm miserable.

I just don't want to do it. But I don't want to be miserable, either. Sooooo...what's left, but to do it.

Just get over it, Susie.

Anyway.

I haven't signed up for that triathlon yet. And I really, really want to back out, because I'm lazy and don't want to put in the effort to train even marginally enough to be able to finish. Partly, at least. Plus it's like $100.

But everyone who I told I would do it keep telling me I have to, and won't let me back out. I have been keeping up with my running and such, and while I definitely don't have the stamina to run even a 5K yet at this point, it's something.

Plus, I do still want to do it. Just to say I've done it. And impress people. I like to impress people, even though I don't think I'm very impressive or have done anything that impressive. But a triathlon? Even a relatively easy one like this one? Even I have to admit it's at least somewhat impressive. Especially if I manage to do it without killing myself.

But...it's only one month away. And I'm pathetic in the athletic sense (among other things).

Sooooo...we'll see. I guess I'm gonna go bike and swim at the gym tomorrow with a friend (it's buddy weekend or something at 24 hour fitness, so you can bring, for free, a non-member friend, which would be me). Because this is a triathlon, after all.


(Wow. Conan is on Leno right now, as it's Leno's last show, and starting Monday, Conan will be back! And an hour earlier! Sweeeet! Anyway, they just showed a clip from years ago when Conan had just gotten the Late Night show, right after they picked him, and he was on Leno, I guess. He looked so young! Haha. Hilarious. Man, I love Conan. If only he were like 20 years younger. Because then I'd have a chance, of course. But come on, tall funny redhead, at least nominally Catholic, he's, like, perfect! Haha.)

Anyway. Yeah.

Camera shy

Meg doesn't like to look at the camera/get her picture taken.

Case in point:

"Not gonna look at her."

"Won't do it."

"Camera? What camera?"

"Look, that kitchen is so fascinating."

"Pretend it's not there, maybe it'll go away."

"Man, when's she gonna give up?"

But once in awhile I can surprise her:

Now, if only I could get myself out of all of the above, we'd be golden!

(I guess I can't really talk much about her being camera shy, as I am one who hates how I look in pictures ALWAYS. Maybe she's just self-conscious about her one-eye-black, one-eye-white eyelashes.)

Don't want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard

First of all: Monday night, a dear great very good friend of mine came over to watch a movie, which was fun because she's been away at college for a very long time and I've only seen her a couple of times since she got back post-graduation early this month. Anyway. At one point she said "You can call me Al," referencing an old inside joke we have. In response, I said, logically, "And you can call me Betty." Referring, of course, to Paul Simon's You Can Call Me Al ("I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al"). She just stared at me and had no idea why I said something about Betty. SHE HAD NEVER HEARD THE SONG. So of course I played it for her. She didn't recognize it. She doesn't even really know who Paul Simon is. It was all very bizarre, but thankfully, I enlightened her, so now she's at least heard it.

What would my friends do without me, I ask you.


Anyhoosiers.

So, I keep falling more and more in love with Colorado and people here who are just a blast to hang out with. And I'm leaving it all! In like two months! What am I thinking??? I'll come back in two years and everyone will have changed and moved on and no one will remember me and there will be skyscrapers covering up any and all views of the mountains, and Pikes Peak. All because I left.

Ok, so maybe some of that is an exaggeration. I'm sure there won't be skyscrapers. As for the people changing and forgetting about me, I wouldn't be surprised.

No, but it's like, the closer I get to leaving, the more I realize what great stuff I have here. (Reminds me of a line from The Two Towers. The movie, anyway. "The closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm." Which is followed by one of the best lines ever: "Well, doesn't make much sense to me, but you are very small. Perhaps you're right." Oh, Treebeard. What a great guy.) It's not that I'm regretting my decision, or thinking I made the wrong one, or not wanting to go. It's more that I have to relinquish control. Why I think I have more control of things if I'm here, I'm not quite sure. But at least I can control how much people see me, to an extent. I can be a part of peoples' lives. I'm not really worth keeping up with that much if I'm not physically around.

I'm just starting to have so much more fun with people I've been hanging out with for the last year. Or, getting more comfortable with people I haven't been hanging out with as much in the last year. Just in time to leave them. Heck, with my luck, I'll get a boyfriend out here like three days before I leave.

Ha. Hahahaha. I know, that's preposterous. A boyfriend? Me? Right.

Anyway. I'm not complaining - I'm just going to enjoy it for what it is while I can, and I'll just hope and pray that I manage to keep these relationships going for the next two years while I'm not here. And, hopefully, manage to visit once in awhile.

Please don't forget about me, Colorado! (And try not to change too much - this goes for everyone.)

One more thing

I'm so in love with Colorado lately. I mean, I always am, but driving to Palmer Park today (a place I love so much I can't even begin to describe it), everything was just so beautiful I almost wanted to cry. I love the cotton in the air this time of year. I love the flowers blooming, the lilacs (which are mostly going away at this point, quite sadly, but there are still a few lingerers), the verdant green of everything - especially when it's cloudy and/or rainy, which makes the green even brighter. And the air. The air is always nice, but lately it's been so good for my soul because it's been so fresh and so crisp thanks to the odd amount of rainy days we've been having. Weird, but I love it. I've been making sure to go out and enjoy Colorado more lately, too. I mean, I spent practically the whole day outside today, including taking Nutmeg to Palmer Park, of course, where I meant to do more running than I did, but I stopped trying when I kept stopping every fifteen feet to take more pictures. Overkill? Probably. But I can't help it. Especially when there are gorgeous storm clouds over the mountains like there were today. Oh man. I just can't resist.

Colorado rocks, folks, and I'm gonna miss it. But it'll always be there to come back to. I can't get enough of this place. (Well, people, and traffic, and buildings, and development aside.)

I can no longer say I never have.

I locked my keys in my car today. I didn't realize for a couple of hours, and, luckily, realized an hour or two before I was leaving. I had put them in my purse when I got to the park where the group was having a bbq, but then I thought, eh, I don't need to bring my purse to where they're set up. So I left it in the car, locked the doors as usual, and left. Anyway, when I realized that I hadn't felt my keys in my jacket pocket the whole time, and that I was sure they were in the car, at first I thought I had a spare somewhere. Turns out, I didn't. Called home, my dad said he'd drive up with our extra key. A couple of the very handy guys I'm friends with managed to jimmy the door open by pulling it enough to slip a tape measure down in there. Took awhile to get the end in position to unlock the doors (my unlock button is not just a button that you push down, it's one of those lever types that you push up, if that makes sense). They managed, though, and I was quite grateful.

So that was my excitement of the day. A good day, all in all. Good family time, good friends, and lots and lots of running. Almost enough to make me sore, which is always nice. (I love being sore. It makes me feel accomplished.) A good day, and that's all I need.

And now, to bed, to start my four day week. Bring it on.

26.

I had a thought today during Mass. Well, several, but one in particular. It's not necessarily a new thought, but today when it hit me, I realized that it's more than likely true: I won't be married before I hit 26. I mean, heck, there's always the possibility that I won't get married before I'm 30, or even before I die. (Or afterward, either, but by then I won't care.) But those are all arbitrary ages, things I throw out there as possibilities but deep down don't really believe (and definitely don't really want to believe). And I know that there are lots of people who like to dismiss these thoughts and say "Of course you'll get married," and "I'm sure you'll find someone as soon as you get to DC," and other such platitudes in an attempt to make me feel better, I guess, about the fact that I'm 23 - and will be 24 in a few months - and have never been in a serious relationship. (Have never been kissed. Haven't even held hands, for gosh sakes, since one date when I was 15. One date which was, incidentally, the last date I had until last August.)

Anyway. My point is, when people say stuff like that to me it doesn't mean much. I didn't get asked out on a single date all four years of college. I didn't even get asked to a dance. And, you know, whatever, that's fine, it is what it is and God has his plan and all that. I'd rather have no experience than regrets, I guess. But the fact is it seems that God's plan right now is for me to go to grad school, and I guess be single for the time being. To what end, I have yet to figure out, but I'm sure God will let me in on that part when the time is right. (Because, seriously, I have no clue what I'm going to be doing with this once the next two years are done and I, theoretically and hopefully, have a master's degree in hand. My first thought whenever people ask me what I'll do with it is, "Well, hopefully by then I'll have found someone with whom I can start a family." But, clearly, I have no control over that, since that's what I thought I would be doing once I had an undergrad degree in hand. A year later and no closer.)

This probably all sounds very silly, and maybe when I look back on it in 20 or 30 years, it will be. But right now, it takes a lot of my energy. I don't want to be single forever. I don't want to be single now, but I don't have a lot of choice in the matter. (Aside from maybe some rather unsavory options.) It's really pretty lonely. I guess it's hard to say of it's more or less lonely than if I had actually experienced being in a serious relationship before; whether knowing what it's like to have someone in that manner would make it harder right now not having someone, or if it'd be easier to some degree because I would at least have the memory...or something...I don't know. All I know is, I don't like it, but I can't exactly argue with God, can I? When I realized today that the likelihood of me being married before I turn 26 is slim to nil, in a realistic sense and not just that abstract "Oh, maybe I won't be married before I'm x age that's still years away" sort of way, it really made me sad. I suppose it shouldn't, because if that's the way God's planned it then it'll be great, right? But it does. I don't want to be single anymore. I want a houseful of kids, and the fact is, the older I am the fewer kids I can have. But there's no guarantees I'd have any kids either way. At least I'd have my husband, though.

I mean, my whole life, that's all I've wanted for sure - to be married with kids. Sure, through the years I had those various careers I "wanted" to pursue - teacher (don't know what I was thinking there), violinist (hint: if you want a career as a violinist, it's probably best to figure that out and start prior to 8th grade), veterinarian. But I always figured I'd get married and have kids, no matter what I do. Now that I'm older, I don't really want a career. No - I mean, I really don't want a career. I definitely wouldn't want a career over family. But I'm wondering if that's the path I'm on. I'm scared I'll be like the opposite of all those women you hear about who were adamant they'd never get married, or at least would never have kids, and then of course inevitably they found someone (because everyone seems to, except me, and yes, I know that's not actually true) and had kids and left the career they thought they loved. Or some variation of that story. Instead of that, I'll be the woman who definitely didn't want a career, but somehow managed to have a career instead of family. Of course, I don't have a career or even a career path at this point, but it's going to turn into something like that. So, again, my point is that if you had told me even a few years ago that my dream of getting married soon after graduating college wouldn't be even close to coming true, I honestly would have been surprised. And rather saddened. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but it seems like so many people I know have found people so easily. Why not me?

26. I know it's not that old (I mean, it's not old at all), but in my opinion, it's getting up there as far as marrying goes. I mean, ok, that's not coming out right at all. For me, it's getting up there. And that's just the lowest age. Obviously I won't be married before I'm 25. I suppose there's a theoretical slight chance I could, if I meet someone sooner rather than later, get married somewhere between 25-26. But it's not likely. And really, that sucks. Am I allowed to say that, while I accept what I believe to be God's plan for me at this point (going to grad school), I don't particularly like it? I mean, I think it'll be good, and probably fun to whatever degree grad school can be fun, and hopefully fulfilling, but I don't like it from the point of view that I'm doing that instead of being married. (In the sense that, it seems his plan right now is for me to do that instead of marriage, for whatever reason.) And to me, blind to the future that God has planned but has not yet revealed, it sucks. Because what if I finish my two years in grad school, and am still single and alone? Maybe by that point I'll be more accepting of the situation. Maybe I'll have a better grasp of where things are going. Maybe I'll be joining a convent. (You never know, right?) But maybe I'll still be desiring marriage, futilely hoping for something that slips away a little bit more every year that passes. And then what? By then all my friends will have gotten married. And I'll just be doing whatever it is I'll be doing, waiting, hoping, and praying, and maybe I'll never get a yes.

I always thought people who say you shouldn't get married before you're 26 or 27 (or didn't want to get married before that age) were kind of weird. Why put off something like that for so long, unless there's some major roadblock that necessitates it? And now here I am, and I'll probably be one of those people upping the average age for marriage. And I sort of hate that. I mean, I know, God's will and all that. God's will or not, it doesn't exactly help with loneliness.

Obviously I have a lot of work to do on myself so that I can have some sense of peace about all of this. I really wish I could get to the point where I enjoy being single, but never really knowing anything else, I'm kind of sick of it. But I'm helpless to do anything about it if it's not God's will right now. I know He's in charge and has it all figured out, but seeing as how I'm no closer to marriage than I was a year, or four years, or more, ago, it's really difficult for me. Really difficult. And it's hard to let go of that dream, of that ideal. But what choice to do I have? I'm going to DC. Other than that, I have no idea, and I have to be able to trust that God knows what's best for me, since obviously up to now what I've wanted isn't what's best for me.

Anyway. Sorry to ramble so long. I've been at peace with this grad school thing for the past month and a half, and I still am, but the past week has been difficult. I'm sick of being single, and feel so frustratingly unable to do anything about it. All I can do is try to change myself, but despite all my trying, I have no idea how to do it. Everytime I think I have, or am close to it, I have another week like this. I see another crop of babies and pregnant women at church and elsewhere. I remember the five or so weddings I'll be attending between August and January. And it makes me sad, and I can't help that.

I'll be fine, I know. I just...felt like sharing. For whatever reason. Sorry. I know I'm pathetic. Don't judge me too harshly.

Mostly, just watch the video.

Goodness, there's nothing like the first five minutes of the news to get a person depressed. This guy killed his 8 month old son, that 13 year old killed his 9 year old brother and shot his mom, someone else was arrested for another murder, and on and on it goes.

That's why I don't watch the news very often.

Anyway. People. I just came across one of the funniest 30 seconds of TV that I've seen in recent memory. You will only appreciate if you're a LOST junkie like myself. Well, maybe it's appreciable(?) to? by? everyone. Watch and see:


Am I a horrible person (the fact that I preface with this question almost immediately means I should answer "yes") if I can't help but judge at least somewhat when I read blogs and articles and such that have multiple glaring grammar, spelling, and punctuation errors? I can't help it, but before I even realize it, I'm looking down on these people and I take them a little less seriously than I might have otherwise. To many superfluous apostrophe's in places where they shouldn't be in, and people who don't know there correct spelling. (And every inch of that sentence was intentional, in case anyone was wondering.) I know I make mistakes here and there, and I know I have the distinct advantage of being pretty darn awesome, but still. It's the repeat offenders that really get to me. And it's just getting worse, I think, and no one bothers to correct it. No one bothers to correct anything these days, it seems. So. I realize I'm a bad person, but you should probably know that if you're one of those people who uses too many exclamation marks, or don't know your it's and its, I'll still be friends with you, but I may just be shaking my head every time I read your facebook status. (Because, as we know, none of my friends blog.) Again, I apologize, but it's just the way I am. A terrible person.

I decided today that I need to wear more skirts, more often. Today was the first day this week that I didn't wear a skirt to work, and I missed the skirt. Skirts are fun, and lots more comfortable. Sure, pants have their pros, but skirts are...great! I do wish it were easier to find good skirts with pockets, though. I watched Last of the Mohicans a few weeks...or more...ago, and there was one scene where one of the two main girls in the movie took a gun from some dead soldier and put it into the pocket of her dress's skirt, which I totally wasn't expecting - the dress to have a pocket, that is. But of course dresses back then would have been more practical. Plus, a lot more fabric making the pockets (and whatever's in them) easier to conceal. Not so easy with skirts women wear these days. But anyway. This summer I'm going to be on the lookout for cheap, practical, longer skirts. Particularly of the jean and/or khaki variety (of which I have neither).

Yeah...

My life is average.

It's true.

Also, I got annoyed with my mom tonight (probably slightly irrationally so) because she dumped out the rest of my drink from dinner, thinking it was my sister's, who had left. Thing that really bothers me about this is that a) my cup was where I had been sitting at dinner. Which was across the table from where my sister was sitting. And it is where I always sit at dinner. And b) her drink was in a glass, sans ice. Mine was in a plastic cup (actually a stolen dining hall cup, which only I drink out of), and had ice. I never drink out of glasses if I can help it, because I don't like them. And everyone in my family is aware of this.

Now, I'm not saying I expect my mom to remember every little detail, but I guess the self-perceived forgotten middle child in me got annoyed at the fact that she totally disregarded two semi-major things about me, and it resulted in me not getting to finish my drink.


It feels like my whole family is on vacation for the rest of the week...or that it's Friday now. Mom took today through the rest of the week off (plus Monday, because it's Memorial Day), Peter's visiting this week through sometime next week, and that means Dad and Tom have things planned to do with him this week. Dad works from home, but that also means he can do things in the middle of the day sometimes. Like go see Star Trek. As all three boys are apparently planning to do tomorrow. And for me, it's only Wednesday. And I still have two more days of work. And this week already feels like it's been crazy long. And - two more days. Thankfully, Monday off, but it's not as though it'll be very restful.

Anyway. I was in too good of a mood all day today (despite the slowness); I had to come down eventually, right? Maybe I'll be motivated to go to bed early tonight. Last night I went to bed at like 11:30, which is pretty good for me, and made me feel good all day today. And I even had a headache when I went to sleep which felt like it could have turned into a migraine - took two excedrin and went to sleep, got almost eight hours, and was good to go.

Well. Emotions are all part of being a girl, right?

It's now 9:40, and I'm gonna head off to bed. Probably won't fall asleep for awhile, but I'll probably fall asleep before midnight, which is my goal anyway. Before 11 would be fantastic.

Good night.

Overload.

My brain is feeling fried from all this Obama/Catholicism/abortion/ND stuff. It makes me very, very tired. Debating/giving my opinion makes me very tired. (How on earth do people do that sort of thing for a living?) But I can't just ignore it, because it's bigger (and more important) than I am.

However. I can stop for a little while. I think. Or at least pretend to here.

I went on a walk tonight with Tom (and the Nutmeg, of course), and there was a storm brewing over the mountains, and to the north of us. (I didn't think we'd get any rain, but we did just a little while ago - a couple hours later.) The sunset with the storm was super-cool, so I got some shots of it, but by the time we had made it to a spot where I could get a really good shot in that direction (not so obscured by trees and houses and whatnot), the sunset was mostly over. Didn't stop me from taking some pictures of the storm clouds, though. And I kept trying, and failing (sometimes just barely), to take a picture right as a lightning strike came down. So then I decided that that's my next goal in life.

And then it rained just now, and it smells lovely. One of my favorite smells in the world.

Peter and Sara are coming for a visit this week! I'm super excited to see them. They've only been gone two months, but still. I like my family. I like my family a lot, actually, more than I often realize. I'm going to miss them again when I'm off in DC. Oh well.

Today is the one year anniversary of my graduation. Man I miss that place like crazy. Sigh. Being a college student was great. Sucky at times, but great. Oh well. Every period in life has its moments, right? (Speaking of, sort of, am I abnormal because for the most part I only have great memories of high school? It seems like a lot of people like to forget high school, and were traumatized by their experiences, and would sooner...I don't know, go live in Antarctica than go back to high school. But I have such great memories! I know there was stress and late nights and all that, but that's life. Maybe I just tend to over-romanticize things and gloss over the bad parts. I wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing.)

_________________________

Yet again, I seem to have written a post without posting. Sooo...that was from yesterday. (Oh hey, which means that today is the five year anniversary of my high school graduation. Trippy.)

I don't have anything to say right now, but I do want to share this super awesome timelapse I just came across:



I hate light pollution, which is why I want to live away from the city eventually, someday, if I can. So I can see things like shooting stars. And the Milky Way. (Haha.)

Anyway. This week already feels incredibly long, and it's only Tuesday. Sigh. Oh well.

What's the point?

(Just an fyi, I just posted one below the most recent, which I had written last night and thought I had published but come here tonight to find out I hadn't. Anyway. It's pretty inconsequential, but just in case anyone cares, it's there.)

First, I have to say one thing about this Obama thing that just hit me - ever since it was announced what would happen today, I've almost been hesitant to tell people that I'm a graduate of Notre Dame. Well, not "people," but Catholics. ND has been tainted by this, and selfishly I'm worried that by association people are going to think I'm someone who agrees with this decision. One of the first things I get asked now is how I feel about this whole issue. Maybe that'll stop now, but what's next? Hopefully only good things.

Anyway.

So, Obama spoke today. Said lots of pretty things that sounded perfect and wonderful to, apparently, everyone there at graduation (and elsewhere, too). Probably swayed people on the fence over to his side, too. He sure can talk pretty, can't he? But it's not all about words. It's about actions. And while he may say how much he wants open-mindedness, I'm not sure that's possible or reasonable in this debate. Those who know the atrocity that is abortion simply can't have an open mind and entertain other ideas about it. Sure, playing devil's advocate from time to time is one thing. But actually to try to find common ground between those staunch pro-lifers and those who would take away any restrictions on abortion is like trying to find common ground in a bottomless chasm between two cliffs. It's not there. From what I've heard from him, it seems like the only common ground will be the pro-lifers moving their cliff across the chasm to his. To give in. And that's the point of all of this. We can tell each other our positions on abortion until we're blue in the face. At the end of the day, though, what it comes down to is that abortion is murder. Those in the pro-life movement know this. Obama does not seem to. And the way to fix abortion is not to slap a bandaid made out of condoms, government-funded Planned Parenthoods, and permissive sex education on the problem. And words will not solve the problem, either. We have to fight through our actions to change the hearts of every single person, impossible though that might seem. With God, though, even the impossible is possible. And yes, using bloody pictures of aborted fetuses is probably not the best way to go about changing peoples' hearts. But neither is giving the high honor of a Doctor of Laws degree to the man who now has us funding overseas abortions, and is without question the most pro-choice president we've ever had.

There was an alternative ceremony held on campus today, which apparently has been reported very little if at all (except maybe in the context of "those wacky protesters"). From what I heard, it wasn't many students - a couple dozen, maybe. And some family, and spectators, and those who came to show their support. And on the one hand, it seems pointless - these few students missed their graduation ceremony - the only undergraduate graduation they will ever have - to show their solidarity with the pro-life cause, and barely anyone, outside of those like myself who are following the story and believe strongly in what those students have done, will know about it. So why do that? Why give up a moment everyone dreams about for the four years they're at that beautiful campus, if not the entire 22 years they've been alive? Why do that when, really, it's not going to make a difference - especially when it's against someone like Obama, who has eloquence, and popularity, and can deliver a smooth speech that almost makes it seem like anyone who would disagree with him is nuts? Those students just as easily could have attended their graduation ceremony, simply not clapped and stood when everyone else fell all over themselves trying to pay him homage, and moved on. There would have been protesters out there anyway, so what are those few students really going to get from missing on their graduation in prayerful protest?

And the more I think about it, the more I realize - we don't follow Christ expecting to see the results right away. Sometimes it's impossible to know the impact we might have - even on just one person - until years later. If at all. But we're still called to follow Christ. Even - and maybe especially - when no one else sees it. Those students who protested instead of attending their own graduation can't possibly have the same wide-reaching and immediate affect that Obama's speech had. It may seem like Obama won. So what's the point of trying? Why do hundreds of thousands of people prayerfully and respectfully march for life every year on the anniversary of Roe v Wade? It doesn't really accomplish anything. Not outwardly, anyway. But who knows what the witness of those people does to bystanders, to people who don't realize the numbers who are willing to drive far and wide just to show their opposition. Who knows what random person may have seen a mention of this peaceful protest and maybe is on the way to a change of heart right now. That's the thing about being in the (typically) silent minority - the results seem negligible. But that doesn't mean they're not there. People who pray outside of abortion clinics can never really know how many babies they may have saved. How many women decided on an alternative because of their presence and prayers. The pro-life movement, to many, seems hopeless and pointless. We're on the losing end, so it would seem, yet we continue. We have to continue. This fight is not over. And even if it's the beautiful and courageous example of a very tiny percentage of students who chose prayer and action over complacency, which seems like a grain of sand against the beach that is Obama, we need to continue to fight. Greater miracles have occurred. Those of us who know and feel the travesty of abortion can't stop - even for graduation - to fight for the lives of all those countless millions of babies who have been killed so far, all in the name of "choice." Because sometimes, it's not all about me, or you. It's about the baby who is in danger right this second of being killed by her mother, either out of fear, or desperation, or indifference, or whatever the case may be. None of them are excuses to be part of murder. And that's why we have to fight.

And that's why, had I graduated this year, I think I would have missed my own graduation. For those babies who will never get the chance to see the light of day, let alone attend college and graduate.

Actions are powerful. Those students today threw a tiny pebble into the lake, which is already rippling from the countless other unseen deeds performed every day in the hopes that someday it'll be enough to wash away abortion. Obama has made it more difficult, but (and I apologize for throwing a semi-geeky reference in here) just like Frodo and Sam, we have to keep trudging on even when it seems impossible. Just as the rest of the good army went to Mordor to fight the whole of Sauron's army there, grossly outnumbered and with practically no chance at succeeding for themselves, we have to go out there and fight, knowing that we probably won't see the results in our lifetime. But our small actions can keep the fight going, until finally victory is achieved. We have to keep fighting for those who can't fight for themselves.


Love thee Notre Dame.

Notre Dame. Again.

You know Catholicism in America has some really huge problems when a senior in college thinks she (and Obama) is more in tune with Catholicism than a very respected Cardinal (Cardinal George, of Chicago, incidentally). Of course, that article also says that Obama has largely ignored the abortion issue in the first 100 days of his presidency, so clearly it's not a very well-researched article (unless loosening restrictions and allowing our tax dollars to fund abortions overseas, among other anti-life legislation he's done so far, counts as "ignoring").

Sigh.

I'm so glad I graduated last year, and didn't have to decide between attending my own graduation with my friends and all the pomp and pageantry that goes along with it, or refusing to go because I wouldn't want to be seen, in the slightest, as approving of the University's decision. At all. I don't know what I would have chosen, honestly, and I'm glad I didn't have to do that.

But my school...it's so, so sad. And most people don't even see it. Don't even realize it.

(The priest at Mass today mentioned, toward the end of his very good homily in which he talked a lot about love - true love, not just infatuation - and decried adultery, cohabitation, and more, also said that Notre Dame inviting and honoring Obama today is worse than adultery. And that they should be kicked out. It hurts. But if things keep going this way, I won't be able to disagree, and I hate that.)

Also: I've been a graduate for a year. A whole year. As of today, I am no longer in the most recent graduating class. Kinda sad. I miss that place.

Forks scraping on teeth has the same effect for me.

Oh, dude, I just went to CNN before I was going to get off my computer for the night, and the top front story is about 19 people arrested at Notre Dame for protesting Obama. And right there, right under that front and center (except, front and left) picture, they say "Nineteen demonstrators were arrested at Notre Dame University on Saturday" blah blah blah. Come on, CNN. GET THE NAME RIGHT. It's really not hard to find out that Notre Dame is, in fact, the University of Notre Dame. Seriously, CNN? You can't get the name of a prestigious unversity correct? And they do it in the main article too, as well as in a caption under one of the pictures that go with the article. Is it that hard? I mean, I don't see a lot of people calling NYU "the University of New York," or University of Texas "Texas University," or University of Chicago "Chicago University," etc. And can you imagine of someone called them "University of Ohio State"? Well, I guess it'd be "THE University of Ohio State." But everyone knows it's THE Ohio State University. Maybe I'm wrong, and people do do that. But Notre Dame is not "Notre Dame University." It's just not. And a news source like CNN should know that. Responsible journalism doesn't exist anymore.

I know, teeny tiny thing. It's like nails on a chalkboard, though. It's like people mixing up someone's first and last name.

UGGHHGHGHGH and now stupid Weekend Update people (SNL) are deriding Arizona State for not giving Obama an honorary degree because he hasn't done enough yet (obviously, the overtly liberal SNLers disagree that he hasn't done anything), and then they congratulate Notre Dame for doing so "despite pro-life protesters, because Notre Dame recognizes that an honorary degree carries with it all the gravitas of a #1 Dad coffee mug." Bleh. This show sucks. Why do I ever watch it? (I don't, usually.)

Anyway. Sorry. Just couldn't hold it in. Don't call it Notre Dame University, please. (It doesn't even make sense that way - Our Lady University? No. It's University of Our Lady. Or Our Lady's University. Notre Dame's University. Haha.)

I saw Star Trek.

Because I enjoy seeing movies (that seem like they won't offend my delicate sensibilities/prudishness) (or don't look ridiculously stupid), and because I like spending time with friends, I went to see Star Trek with some of my favorite people this afternoon. Definitely not a movie that is at the top of my list of Movies to See, but I've only heard fantastic things about it, including from those who aren't completely geeked-out Trekkies, so I figured, what the hey.

And you know what? It was actually really, really good. Now, I wasn't a huge fan of Winona Ryder, who plays Spock's mom (something about the way she acts or talks or something...it seems like she's fighting to get every word out just dripping with emotion. I'm not sure. I really like her in Little Women, I think, but maybe I just like the movie. Definitely not a huge fan of hers in general, though). And some parts were just like, man, can't he catch a break? (Specifically when Kirk was being chased by a gross huge monster thing. Sometimes those scenes when people are being chased by creatures and it seems like there's just no way they're getting out of there, even when you know they will, really just make me all kinds of tense.) Anyway. I really liked it.

However. I really don't get how people can get so worked up about/be so in love with a movie or TV show or whatever that they dress up like the characters, have way over-the-top themed weddings, or basically just obsess over it more than "Man, I really like the Star Trek world." I mean, it's perfectly fine to enjoy something, or to memorize lines, or whatever, but really? Why re-enact it like that? What's the point? I don't know. I just don't get it. But then, there's a lot of stuff out there that I don't get.

Oh, also: This was totally a boy movie. I mean, obviously, it's fun for all sexes! But the previews beforehand included: the new Terminator, the second Transformers, GI Joe, and...oh, well there was that new Pixar movie too. (Which has a hilarious scene involving a dog that has a collar that can translate his thoughts. I've seen that trailer twice now, and that part is just so funny.) But lots of trailers for blow-em-up movies. It was interesting. Oh, there were also previews for Land of the Lost and Year One. Both of which I totally want to see. Oh, yeah, or not.

Anyway. To sum up: If you're considering seeing Star Trek, I'd certainly say you should. If you're vehemently opposed to the idea, nothing I say will matter anyway. But it's very enjoyable. Good acting, good characters, and of course they include some of the more classic lines that even I recognize. It's good stuff.

Question.

Why is it that I've been blogging continuously and often at least several times a week for probably at least six years now, and yet virtually NONE of my friends/siblings/relatives/anyone I know in real life ever blogs? I think two of my siblings have had blogs for short periods of time, but didn't really keep up with them, and definitely didn't keep going with them. I've had a few friends who have started blogs, but they also eventually gave it up. Or one or two blog very intermittently. What is it that makes some people blog, and some people good at blogging, and others completely turned off to the idea? And why am I not friends (in real life) with anyone who keeps up with a blog?

It's a question I have very often, but am never able to answer.

Blogger's Block (or...not?)

I just visited my own blog to see when my last post was. I haven't posted all week. Weird for me, right?

It's not that I have nothing to say - far from it. I don't really have anyone to tell the mundane details of my life, so I use my blog, and believe me, there are lots of mundane details to discuss here. But it's sort of like...I have all this stuff I'd like to say, but is it really worth putting in a post? And where do I even start? Because once I start with one thought, a thousand others jump in, and then I have half-finished thoughts and paragraphs all over the place and it's all just a mess.

Plus, what's the point, anyway? It's not like I typically get feedback (not that I care that much, or do this for "feedback" of any sort, or am trying to hint that I want more people to comment - especially since I have about five readers, anyway). So, while in some ways blogging is my lame attempt to have a conversation, there's no one on the other end conversing with me. So it just sort of...falls flat. And what's the point?

I could write about how, as of Monday, I will have been a graduate of Notre Dame for a full year. And that's weird. And I miss it, and my friends. And that also means that it's mid-May, which is also weird. The year is almost half-over already, more or less.

Or I could write more about how excited I am to go to DC, and how in the month since I decided to do it, I've been consistently and almost unfailingly happy. Happier than I've been in a looooong time. And it's very weird for me. But also pretty great. And I'm hoping I can remember this happiness and peace when I'm in the midst of papers and homework and tests again. Oh, and homesickness. (And also having to have, yet again, a birthday right at the beginning of meeting new people. That's the problem with an early fall birthday - it's always at the beginning of the school year, which means it has been somewhat lonely in the past when I was still not necessarily great friends with the new people I just met in whatever grade/class/college I had just started.)

Or, in the same vein, I could talk about how much I hope this one house I've contacted about decides I might work in their living situation, and then I'll have the housing thing taken care of. I'm not necessarily holding my breath, or expecting to get it, but it'd sure be fantastic. But I'm also not too worried about it, because God's taken me this far, and he won't abandon me the rest of the way. If this one doesn't work out, something else will.

It's weird, this whole trusting God thing. Hard to figure out how to do. But I think I'm finally, finally maybe starting to get kind of close. He'll work things out the way he wants to. The way things need to happen. And that's the way it should be.

I had a post I started writing last night that was going to talk about my frustration when I read or hear things from Catholic couples who live together and don't plan on marrying any time soon, or who are married or are getting married but are going to contracept or who don't want kids at all. It's frustrating, because I know (well, in the sense that I can "know" something without experiencing anything even remotely close to it) how God intended relationships to work, and how people like that (I like to call them the "Catholic, but" people) are just so seriously thwarting God's plan, and selfishly manipulating it into something they want it to be. And it's really frustrating because I so desperately want to be able to live out a true Catholic relationship in the way God intended (or, to the best of my quite flawed and weak ability, anyway), but obviously that's not in the plans right now. I sort of hate that, but like I said, I have to trust God, right? Because what else is there to do but trust? Anyway. I know, I'm a selfish and horrible person for thinking stuff about people like that, but it makes me sad, and...frustrated. And also annoyed that no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to articulate very well why what they're doing is wrong. I've never been good at arguing. (I'm hoping a master's degree in the subject might help a bit with that.) I mean, it's so...obvious to me that I can't understand how anyone else doesn't see it. Or how anyone can disagree with it. Or how it can be so easily dismissed as being unimportant in the "big scheme of things". Because it's so important. But anyway.

So there. I said that. Probably didn't come out sounding very good.

Also, I don't understand the show Wipeout. I don't understand why it was ever created. I don't understand why people watch it. I don't understand why it's coming back for the second summer in a row. I just don't get it. I don't get America, I guess. (Speaking of which, I heard today that there's going to be or is a Puerto Rico quarter, along with the state quarters. I can't exactly verify it as true, but if it is true, I find that quite weird. But whatever.)

And I saw something on the news tonight about this newish sport called rope jumping. I couldn't quite figure out how it was exactly different from bungee jumping, but it basically involves being attached to a rope, and jumping down very steep canyons. The guy who invented it set a record for how far he fell (I think...he set some record), and then died a few weeks later doing it. So, you know, it's got that going for it, which is nice. Seriously, why do people do stuff like that? Dangerous thrill-seeking that could easily kill you, just for fun? Another one of those things that I just don't get.

I also don't really get why people ever like me/want to be friends with me, but I think that's just one of those mysteries of life.

Anyway. Guess I decided to keep going after all. Even if I'm talking to an empty room. Sometimes it's good just to talk. Or type, as the case may be. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love typing?)

Also: Nutmeg is pretty cute. And she graduated from beginner training class tonight. She did well in everything except loose-leash walking, which she doesn't really do at all - she pulls like the dickens unless I have a Halti on her (which you can see in my profile picture - it's just a harness that goes around the snout instead of the chest, and controls the dog better because it makes them turn their heads if they pull the leash tight, instead of just choking them, which doesn't seem to deter some - Nutmeg included. Not literally choke, just make the collar really tight on the throat. I don't use choke chains or anything like that). She got one mark down for "leave it", too, but that was a fluke - she's usually very good at leave it. I think she was just all distracted and stuff at class tonight. No biggie.

I'm doing that triathlon in June. So I've been taking Nutmeg on more frequent walks (trying to, anyway), and including some running in them too. I took her out tonight after I got back from a thing, and ended up running most of the way. I was surprised at how long I could go. I think I tend to stop before my body really has to just because I dislike running so much. Also, I think I tend to run too quickly, and that peters me out sooner than actual jogging, which I did tonight. I think I tend towards almost a sprint (although, as sprinting goes, it's like the slowest sprint ever), and of course I can't keep that up as long as I can jogging.

Anyway. Not that anyone cares.

See, and this is going to sound totally and utterly pathetic, but that's the thing lately. So many of my friends around here (it's almost...weird how many, but at the same time, entirely logical) are in relationships. So, if all else fails, they typically have at least that one person with which to discuss the inanities of life, of the day. I don't have that. Sure, I have my parents, but they're busy with other things, and that's fine. It's not like I never talk to them about anything, but yeah. And I've never really had that one best friend who I would chat with on the phone for hours (perish the thought!). And that's fine too - I'm not really that big a talker, anyway, and tend much more toward private and keeping things to myself. Why bother anyone with things that don't really matter? But maybe I'm starting to get more and more sick of that. Maybe I'm starting to become a person who enjoys a good chat about nothing with someone who knows me well, every once in awhile. Trouble is, I don't have that person. (Partly my fault, of course, because I've never been very open even with close friends. So, how could anyone really know me all that well? Which also makes me wonder if I'll ever really be able to have a functional relationship beyond the friendship level, since I'm not a naturally open person. I like to think I'm trying to change that, though.) And I know, it's fine, and it's all in God's time, and that's the way it should be. But that doesn't mean I can't wish things might be different sooner than later. But then, what if God's plan for me doesn't include that? Then what? I'll be that singleton who gets pity invites to my married friends' houses for dinners and such. And even if I get better at opening up to some of my friends, therein lies another pitfall: eventually, all my friends will probably be in relationships. And people in relationships tend to talk to each other about things. And I full expect, and always have, that if I tell something to a person who is part of a "couple", the other part of the couple will eventually hear whatever I said. Most of the time this doesn't bother me, because I expect it, and so I measure what I say with this expectation in mind. (Of course, this isn't as big an issue if I'm good friends with both parts of the couple, but yeah.)

Anyway. Glad I got that block unblocked, for now at least. (And that picture that my mom apparently hates won't be at the top of the blog anymore. Mission accomplished.)

Mother's Day

Not-so-lovely picture, of me anyway (mid-hike while camping a couple of summers ago), but a lovely, wonderful mom, whom I don't deserve in the slightest.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

I don't even know.

I went to the library today. I haven't gone to the library in a very long time, especially the one I went to this afternoon. (I was going because, after watching three episodes online, I got sick of the lousy quality of the online options I had for watching that Robin Hood series I mentioned the other day. I looked it up on the library's site, and they had two copies available at one of the two library branches in town that I would have considered driving to. Otherwise, I would have put it on hold at one of those two branches.) So anyway, on my way to the back where the DVDs are, I passed all the rows and columns of the non-fiction section, and I remembered perusing those rows during high school when researching for projects and papers and such. And all of a sudden, I missed researching papers like that. Collecting all those books filled with information on whatever (hopefully interesting) topic I was researching. Great stuff. I guess I didn't do that as much in college for a variety of reasons (I didn't really do a lot of research papers, I think, and I probably used the Internet a lot more than in high school - only legit sources, though, of course). Anyway. Yay libraries and books.

And now, a couple of random links I've come across today or recently: first, Book A Minute. (This one is Classics. Scroll to the bottom to find Science Fiction/Fantasy, Bedtime, and Movie a Minute. Sort of endlessly amusing. But not really endlessly, because they don't last that long.)

Also, something I was reading linked to an explanation of how we get nicknames like Peggy for Margaret and Jack for John. Having pondered this question semi-frequently for a long time, it was nice to have an explanation. Although I still don't like it. But whatevs. Haha. (I never actually say "whatevs", just so you all know.)

Saturday Night Live is on. I don't typically watchi this show anymore because it's just not funny, but Justin Timberlake is hosting, and he usually does a good job. But I think that the host isn't quite so important as the writers...and not much has been that funny to me. I will readily admit, however, that I'm not in their target audience - I don't get amused by jokes that tend to go to the lowest common denominator for a laugh. Plus, oh my gosh, the musical guest they had (and when I do watch this show, I never unmute for the musical guest, because they're all terrible these days, and not the music I listen to) was basically doing like a stripper dance. Sans stripping, although she barely even would have needed to with what she was wearing. How girls can do that on TV and not think they're utterly demeaning themselves is beyond me. Yeah, yay, women are liberated now so we can do pole dances and dress like strippers and not get paid for it! (Um, not that I'm advocating doing these things for pay, but geez.) Let's let men look at my practically naked body and gyrate and lead them, willingly or unwillingly, to impure thoughts that are probably quite hard to ignore when it's being put right there in front of them. Ugh. Goodness, ladies, can't you believe you're better than just what you can offer in the way of sex? Come on. Feminism has been so bad for this country/world. It's really sad.

Anyway.



Yeah.

(Non)confrontation

I went to TGI Friday's tonight with some friends after bowling (which I did horribly, by the way - just over 50 the first game, and 35 the second. Thirty-five. I've heard people complain before that they tend to get smaller scores at Mr Bigg's bowling lanes than other, real bowling alleys, and I'd definitely say that's true for me. I don't bowl often, but when I do I consistently get at least over 70, I think. Occasionally close to 100. Others in our group, however, did better than they typically do, so who knows). Anyway, they have these $5 sandwiches and salads, which is a pretty good deal. They even come with a choice of fries, chips, or side salad (the sandwiches do, anyway). I got some sort of club sandwich, typical for me, and decided to go for the side salad instead of chips. Imagine my surprise, then, when I got my sandwich and there were fries on the plate - despite having a side salad placed in front of me earlier. Figured they had just forgotten, and given me the fries by accident. (One of the people I was with apparently asked for the chips and got fries, so things happen.) I got my bill, though, and they charged me for a side salad. I told the waiter about it, and he said "Oh, that's what you meant?" when I told him that I had wanted the salad instead of the fries. As it said I could do right there on the menu. Being the utterly non-confrontational person that I am, and preferring to blame myself when things like this happen, I said it wasn't a big deal. And he said, "Ok" and walked off.

(I'm a little annoyed that he didn't seem to care that he had gotten it wrong, and that he seemed to think it assumed that I pay it anyway. At the same time, I did eat some of the fries, and didn't mention it when I first saw the fries, but what was I gonna do? They would have just thrown them out anyway.)

I didn't leave him as good a tip as I normally do. Although it was still almost 20%. I considered tipping less than that, but felt badly about it. Except I'm really annoyed that I had to pay for that salad. I mean, really, is it that hard? Plus, I had to ask for my sandwich after everyone else had gotten their food - he came over and asked how everything was, and I still hadn't gotten mine. Color me not impresesd by this guy. And yet I still gave him a 20% tip.

Sigh. Maybe someday I'll be able to stick up for myself. It's not my fault he got it wrong, right? (But maybe somehow it is...)

Imagine the Potential.

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take

And that's why I'm so thankful for the invention of digital cameras! Even though a lot of them don't pan out, at least you have the ones that do!

(Seriously, you should see the pictures that clutter my picture folder - and my camera's memory card, which is rapidly running out of room for the 1000+ pictures it can hold...A majority have been taken on one of the same three routes I routinely travel, either while driving to various locations, or while walking the dog. Which means a lot of them look the same. And a lot are dog pictures.)

I have pictures on my memory card that are a year and a half old. I think those ones are of Kebbie, Christmas 2007, because I just couldn't delete them. At least I'd still have that if something ever happened to the pictures on my computer. Which, I'm starting to think I really need to get an external hard drive to have somewhere to put said pictures. Right now, all but the pictures I've taken since the end of March are on a folder on my parents' external drive, but I would like to get one of my own one of these days. I've heard they cost money, though. So, we'll see. However, I do need to delete a bunch of pictures from my memory card. When I go to upload them onto my computer now, it comes up with 17 different folders of pictures, and I have to figure out where I left off last time, and which folder (or folders) this newest batch is in. It's ridiculous. And very much part of the whole hoarding problem I have. So guess what I'm going to do right now? Delete them from my camera. Well, most of them. I think. Oh man, I just went back and looked at those first ones that are on there (the oldest, of Kebbie). How weird. I haven't really looked at pictures of her in awhile. I forgot how fluffy she was, and how short her snout was. Hazel and Nutmeg obviously weren't/aren't at all fluffy. And they don't have particularly short snouts. No wonder Kebbie looked so much like a puppy. I do miss her fluffiness. Sometimes I wonder if all the dogs I've had just sort of get all mixed up in my head and all become like one singular dog. I don't know. It's weird. Anyway. I can delete those, right? They're on my computer. They're on my old laptop. They're on the external. I can delete them. Right? Right.

Oh, the next folder is ND pictures. Starting with snowy Dome pictures taken from my window senior year. I loved that view. I don't want to delete those. But again, they're saved.

Couple hundred pictures later and we're at Hazel puppy pictures. Wasn't anticipating that for some reason. Sigh. Not gonna do those yet. I miss that dog like crazy. Over three months later.

Goodness I have a lot of pictures of her. I'd trade them all to have her. I'd trade a lot of things, actually, to have that dog back.

And now I'm at Christmas. And I just remembered that I put up our Christmas tree by myself, other than actually bringing it into the house and putting it in the tree stand. I did the lights, the ornaments, everything. Hm. Going through pictures is turning out to be kinda depressing.

The very last picture I ever took of Hazel is immediately followed by the first picture I took of Nutmeg. Guess I wasn't in much of a picture-taking mood in the interim two weeks. (Confession: I feel not much need to keep pictures of Nutmeg on my memory card. I didn't delete a single one of the Hazel pictures I took in the not-quite-eight months I had her, though. Does that make me a terrible person, that I'd still rather have Hazel back than the dog I have now? Probably does.) (I do like Nutmeg, and she's a great dog. But she's not Hazel, and I still want Hazel.) (But I'm going to change my profile picture. It's way overdue.)

Well, that's enough deleted for now. I went through the hardest part - memories of second semester senior year, dead dogs, etc. Fun.

I was going to post a few recent pictures, but now it's too late, and I don't feel like it. Oh well.

Not like anyone cares anyway.

Apparently I'm a slacker

Someone told me tonight that I'm failing at my blog because I haven't updated enough this week. (I don't know when my last update was - Sunday? I'm too lazy to check.)

So...what's been going on with me? Hm...

I'm considering signing up for a triathlon. (Yes, I'm stupid. I'm in no shape for it, and also, ew.) A good friend of mine is doing it, although she did one last year too so she knows she can. Anyway, I'm so close to agreeing to do it. Of course, I don't have a bike...and I haven't really swam in years...so that's going to have to be figured out. But I don't know. I kinda think it could be really great. If I survive. Haha. I'd definitely have to train, though, and...ick. But maybe it's the fact that I managed Pikes Peak last summer when I definitely wasn't in shape (and wasn't even sore afterward!), or the fact that lately I've been feeling in better shape than I've felt in awhile...right before Hazel died, I guess. Thanks, of course, to having a job where I am now on my feet/moving around at least half the day, if not more, instead of just sitting at a computer 8 hours straight. And thanks to taking longer and more frequent walks with Nutmeg lately (ah, spring, warmer temperatures, more sunlight, good stuff). And eating less. But none of that really means I'm in any condition whatsoever to do a triathlon. Man, though, how cool would that be if I could? I'd be super proud of myself. We'll see.

Thanks to above said friend, I've also discovered a new TV show that is great. It's the BBC's version of Robin Hood, but a TV series. I think it's on the third season right now, but I'm watching it online and have only seen two episodes so far. Well, plus one episode from season two that first got me into it. Anyway. It's good. But also right up my alley, so yeah.

I'm finally getting into Lord of the Rings. I read The Hobbit back in...sophomore year, I think, possibly freshman, but probably sophomore. Liked it. Started reading Lord of the Rings after that. Since that time (about three years ago now), I managed to read maybe 1/3 of the first book. Maybe a bit more, but they hadn't even made it to the Prancing Pony yet. They were still with Tom Bombadil when I picked up the book last week to see where I had left off. But in the past week, I've gotten a lot more into it, and it's getting really good. So, hey, maybe I'll finish the first book by the end of the year! Haha.

Let's see. Other than that, nothing. Looking forward to: summer. 4th of July. Camping. Possibly climbing Pikes Peak again this summer. Bowling this Friday. Seeing Lauren maybe tomorrow, definitely Friday! Hiking. Life. DC! School. (This won't last, but I'm actually looking forward to having homework again. It's familiar. It has specifics. Due dates. Expectations. I like that. Plus, you know, it's something I'm super-uber-extra interested in, which helps.) Finding a job in DC. Finding a place to live. Praying it all goes well. Peter and Sara visiting in a couple of weeks. (It's already almost May 7! What???) Lilacs! (I saw a few bushes on the way home today that were starting to bloom! I can't wait!) Christmas. (Why not?) Everything.

Life is so good. I don't know how, or why, or what I did to deserve it, but I'm so happy. Sure, things haven't worked out the way I thought they would, or even would prefer. But they're working out. They're working out the way God wants them to, which is what should happen anyway (because everything is just better when God's in control. Seriously. Totally). So, whatever. It's weird. I really want to be in DC and get all that started. But I keep trying to be upset about certain things that haven't happened, even though I'm really happy about what I'll be doing in a few months. I keep telling myself how long and difficult this summer will be, with most of my friends around here all coupled up. But I'm looking forward to a lot of things that come with summer. So, I guess I'm overall happy, and at peace with where God's leading me, but I still can't let go of that one thing, and keep trying to make myself miserable about it. Like, I should be miserable, because I want to be in a relationship and it's just not happening just like it hasn't been happening for a majority of my life (well, you know, dating-age life) and my default to that is to be miserable about it. But...I don't really feel miserable about it, because I have this great thing coming up, and who knows what it'll bring, what opportunities it'll open up. (Of course, talk to me in two years, and if I'm still single at that point, I might be singing a different tune.)

Plus, hello? DC! I mean, I'm not a big-city person. At all. But it's pretty cool to think about living in DC for a couple years. When I don't think about how much I'll miss clear, good water, or non-humid air, or great weather, or the mountains. My mountains. And, you know, family and stuff. (:-P)

Anyway.

I keep staying up too late. It's not good. Tonight, I'll blame it on Cathy, who guilted me into posting. So there.

Hodgepodge. (Now with SWINE FLU)

I read somewhere last night that some schools are now making kids play "shadow tag" instead of regular tag. Reduces the number of bumps and bruises and scratches that kids get. Because, you know, we can't have any of that. Also, some new thing in elementary school gyms is to do jump rope without the rope. Apparently it makes kids feel better about themselves because they don't feel a sense of failure at not being able to jump over a real rope, or not being able to keep up jumping rope continuously for an extended period of time. Pathetic. Schools are just...I don't know, they're going to be part of the downfall of our society, that's for sure. It's part of the reason I plan on homeschooling any kids I have. None of this foolishness.

Also, this just in: Swine flu might actually be just like the regular flu. Huh. Who'da thunk that the media could blow something out of proportion? I read today that apparently my bishop sent out a memo yesterday saying that Communion will only be distributed in one species (I only take the Body anyway, typically), that hand-holding is not to be encouraged during the Our Father (boo-hoo. I hate doing that), that we should not shake hands during the Sign of Peace (fine by me - I think it goes on a little too long as is), and that the faithful should be encouraged to take the Eucharist in the hand instead of on the tongue. That sort of bothers me, as I haven't received in the hand in over four and a half years. And this precautionary stuff is ridiculous anyway, even if most of it doesn't bother me in the slightest. It's the flu, people. FLU. 36,000 people die annually from the flu in the US, and we don't get all freaked out about it. I know lots of people died in Mexico, and it's sad, but it probably has more to do with the fact that they don't have the greatest healthcare and whatnot down there, and not because this is some huge pandemic. Anyway. If they make me, I'll receive in the hand on Sunday (and it'll be very weird for me to do so), but I think it's all pretty overblown, personally. That's the media for you.

So, it's funny to remember my freshman year at ND. I primarily went to Cavanaugh's dorm Mass every Sunday night, and was a bit...not annoyed, but thought it was odd that one of the sophomore girls who had helped with Frosh-O typically went to and preferred the Basilica instead of dorm Mass. I guess I thought it was a little not community-friendly, or something, and I was all about the Dorm Spirit back then. And then, I started to learn things about Catholicism. And I started going to more Masses at the Basilica for various things. And then often for daily Mass. And then I was a converted Basilica-goer, and stayed away from dorm Mass as much as possible. For the rest of my time at ND. At first when I started going to the Basilica primarily, I went to the 11:45 folk choir Mass. And then eventually I stopped caring that no one wanted to go to the 10am with me (10am Mass is early for a college student), and started caring about having good music, incense, and reverence. And that's my story. (I just find it oddly funny that what I started out thinking was the best ended up being what I disliked the most. But that's what happens sometimes, isn't it?)

Speaking of ND: Last week was the annual (five consecutive years running now) Eucharistic procession. I went to this at least a couple of times when I was there (including, I believe, freshman year, the first of this revitalized annual tradition), and it was always nice. I hear the Glee Club sang a song at one of the altars this year, which would have been lovely I'm sure. Those guys always sound good. Anyway, here's a blog post with lots of pictures from this year's. I'm putting it here mostly because, look! That's my campus! The dome! The Basilica! Fr. Rousseau! I miss it all so so much. Sigh. That's why I don't want people to write off ND completely. They'll be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. It's like...It's like Gotham City, in Batman Begins - Bruce Wayne knows that there are things, people, worth saving in the city. Sure, on the outside it seems like there's not much to save, and it'd be easier to destroy it all and start over, as Ra's al Ghul/Henri Ducard wants to do. But Bruce Wayne can't give up on the city his parents worked so hard to maintain and improve. And that's Notre Dame. Not that ND is quite as corrupt or horrible as Gotham City...but you get the point.

Also speaking of ND, this article is making the rounds in the Catholic blogosphere. From an almuna who chose life. Highly worth the read. (I think this is what you linked to, Mom, and yes, I've read it. Meant to post it yesterday.)

Oh, and when are people going to realize that more birth control is not the answer to anything? Except, maybe, more infidelity, unwanted pregnancies, abortions, babies born out of wedlock, etc, etc, etc.

Man, this swine flu thing is ridiculous. Get a grip, people. Canceling graduations? Come on. Oh yeah, it's H1N1. Not swine. Because of the swine moniker, Egypt is killing all their pigs. Talk about overreaction.

I saw Wolverine tonight. I liked it. Some great action scenes. Although, the plotline will now make some things from the original trilogy not make much sense in retrospect (this is a prequel of sorts to those movies). But it was good. I'm not a huge Hugh Jackman fan, but I love him as Wolverine. Not sure why. It's a good character, though. And, although I knew it would happen one way or another, I was still really sad for him at the end. I mean, he's not morally perfect or anything, but he sure did have a good sense of right and wrong for the most part. At least when it comes to killing people and stuff. That's nice to see.

Anyway.

Oh, and I saw a preview for Night at the Museum 2, set in the Smithsonian. I pretty much have to see it because, aside from reluctantly enjoying the first one, this one's at the Smithsonian! A place I hope to visit at least once in the next two years. (Because, oh yeah, haven't mentioned in awhile, I'm going to DC. In less than four months. Huh. Still feels right, if a bit crazy.)

I don't know what to do with myself tomorrow. I used up my Saturday today. It's weird...maybe I'll do something productive or something. Who knows... I'll probably take Nutmeg to Palmer Park again like we did today. Surprising how wet I got on an hour-long walk when it was just misting out. My bangs and face were even dripping by the time I got back to the car. Kinda nice, though. Today's weather has been all-around good. (It's still very foggy out. I love it.) And tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, too. Excellent.