Loooosing my mind

Oh man, you guys. There's just always too much going through my brain that I want to share. Too much, and also, nothing.

It's weird.

But mostly, lots of stuff. And no one to share it with, because most of it is uninteresting to pretty much the whole of the world's population. But I just come across these awesome links, stories and articles and such, all the time, and I want to talk to everyone about them! So then I post some to Facebook, but then I feel like I'm just constantly putting up links, and that's weird. So then I'm thinking about setting up a Twitter account so I can have somewhere to put them without cluttering everyone's facebook page. But then I'd have to figure out a username, and I'm soooo not good at that if my go-to is already taken (seriously, why would someone else use Susalyn? That's MY nickname! Sheesh. And not only did someone take it, but that person hasn't even used it for anything! Not cool, man, not cool).

Maybe I should just use my blog for that purpose. A daily round-up of interesting links I found, if you will. The only problem with that is I don't really tend to give out my blog url to people (seriously, I was reluctant even to tell my roommate what it was last year. I think she eventually found it on her own, somehow, once). I'm not really sure why that is...I mean, obviously I know that if it's on the internet, it's find-able, and it's not like I typically tell deep, dark secrets here. Mostly whining about how much I miss Colorado and how much I dislike being single. But maybe I'm a tad embarrassed by the me-centrism of my blog, and that's why I don't want many people to know about it...? But then, maybe changing things up a bit and having a link post every day would help me fix that. Because, really, this is one hecka crappy blog. But it's mine, all mine. Anyway.

What was I saying?

I don't know.

Oh. Links. Yeah. So there's that. And then I come across all these great knitting patterns all the time, too, and places where I can find great knitting patterns, and things about yarn, and knitting needles, etc etc. And I just want to DO IT ALL. I have so many things I want to knit. I just want to knit until my little fingers fall off. Oh man, do you know how sad I would be if my fingers fell off? (Or if, more likely, something happened that left my hands useless. Or amputated. Or whatever.) I would be so sad not to be able to knit anymore. And no chance of ever playing the violin again...I really wish I had kept up with that. Well, maybe I can get back into it once I'm done with school.

But yes. Knitting. I love it. Love it. Love love it. I can't even stand it. It's ridiculous, how much I love knitting. It's embarrassing, except I love it too much to be embarrassed. And hey, it's like a public service, right? Sure, I keep some of the things I knit (a few scarves, some hats, headbands that take like 5 minutes to do, that one blanket that was my first attempt at a blanket, and which I finally finished last semester sometime after having put it away for over a year), but mostly they're gifts and such. And someday, maybe, I can try my hand at selling a few things. I hope I can do that. I guess I should stop committing to making people things...but it's just so fun! Oh and there's so many things I want to try! Like, I found a pattern for this blanket that folds up and has an extra pocket/flap thing in which most of the blanket can be tucked, so it makes a pillow when it's all folded. My roommate had a quilt like that last year. I can totally knit one! And I actually found a pattern yesterday for a really cute knit skirt. Kinda weird, not sure how it'd actually look in reality (as opposed to the "official" pictures, which probably always look better than the real thing), but it'd be fun to try. Someday.

Oh, and then there's this one blog post I want to write, except I'm not sure how to fit it into this blog anymore. I used to write more about Catholic issues and such, but for the last year it's mostly been me whining. So a random post stuck in about homosexuality just seems like it'd be a little out of place...part of the reason I've been toying with the idea of starting a new blog, just to start fresh. I don't know, though.

Not that any of this really matters. The important thing is...it rained all day today. And it's awesome. Except it was still almost 80, which meant it was just kind of gross out, instead of nice and cool like we all want it to be (finally). It's still raining right now, and I love that sound. I had a really good day today, and I have no idea why. I've been in such a foul funk lately. And it's been frustrating, because I know I've been depressed but have no idea what to do about it. It's like it's...just beyond me. I try, and I give myself these internal pep talks all the time, trying to tell myself to be more cheerful, to respond more, to be better, but none of it works. Maybe it's me just being stubborn or something, I don't know. It just all feels like more than I can handle, but I have to handle it, and then I feel ridiculous because things could be SO MUCH WORSE because, really, what's my problem? I'm stuck in a place I don't like so I can be in a program I (mostly...) believe in? I'm far away from my family and friends, so I don't want to form new attachments? I'm single, so I act like this person I wouldn't even want to be acquainted with (let alone anything else)? Seriously. I have issues, and I just need to get over it. It's not that bad. And even if it is, it's only temporary. Yeah, it sucks. (Especially the single part because, "only 25" or not, I feel it. I feel the time ticking away. And then yesterday I read a news article about an 85-year-old woman who just got married. For the first time. EVER. I really hope I don't have to wait another 60 years. I know God's timing is perfect, but...really?) But there's no point in me being such a complete drag.

Anyway. Point is, my outlook has been better today. Why that is, I couldn't tell you. (Except I can tell you that my mood practically immediately began to improve when I made the decision to go to adoration at St. Rita's last night. They do a Holy Hour from 7-8 every Wednesday, and I was only there from 7:30-8, but I'm pretty sure Jesus must have just been sitting there waiting for me, with all this grace to give me so that I can get through at least today. Just a day at a time, that's all I need to do. And grace is, thankfully, abundant, if we ask for it. God provides. I mean, it'd be nice if he provided me something else too, but I guess he doesn't think I need that yet. And I guess I just have to agree. God's pretty smart. I? am not.)

And then I got $.20/gal off when I filled up my car today, because Giant (a supermarket chain that's out here, but not in Colorado...can't remember if it was in Indiana too. Might have been) has a program, for every 100 points you get it's 10 cents off at Shell. I'm not sure how they calculate points, but all of a sudden I checked the other day and I had like 250. Sweet! I think it was boosted because last weekend I did my more-or-less once-a-month major grocery shopping expedition. That's usually how I work - get a bunch of stuff once a month or so, and then a couple other times throughout the month go for the more fresh items that get used up and/or go bad. Either way, hey, I filled up my tank for $2.50/gal today!

And classes. I have a love/hate relationship with some of them, and the Institute itself, right now. I have been better, somehow, about keeping up with the reading in most of them, and it's amazing how much more I get out of class when I've at least perused the readings. (Hey, only took me a year of grad school, plus, what, 16 years of other schooling? to figure that out!) And we're now done with Theology of the Body, which frees up a lot more time. Especially once we take the final, which happens on Monday. I have a lot going on next week, school-wise, which has oddly made me more productive this week. That just doesn't happen in Susie-land. For example, I have to turn in a paper topic and preliminary bibliography next Thursday for my Patristics class. I'm not sure yet what I'm doing, but I've actually been researching topics and trying to figure that out. And it's not next Wednesday! Amazing! (Of course, I still don't really know what I'm doing...I want to write on the marriage passage in Tobit, but I haven't found much that the Church Fathers have written on that piece of Scripture, unfortunately...)

Aaaaanyway...

Life is weird. I hope God realizes what a terrible navigator I am. I hope he's written that into the plans of my life and made concessions for it. I mean, in real life, I'm not too bad at it. If I get lost, I'm usually pretty good at finding my way back to where I need to be. Sometimes takes longer than others, but I make it work. Maybe that'll be true in life, too. (I just hate always having this feeling of...what if? What if I had done something differently? Could I be married with a kid or two by now? Or would I still be here, because this is where I was supposed to be? What if I got here too early? Or too late? What if I missed out on something I was supposed to do, and can never get that back? There's really no way to answer these questions, and as Aslan says, "To know what would have happened, child? No. Nobody is ever told that. But anyone can find out what will happen." (Prince Caspian. Page 137 in my awesome set.) He also says basically the same thing, maybe in Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Same two characters (Lucy and Aslan). "Child, did I not explain to you once before that no one is ever told what would have happened?" (Page 136. Oh weird! haha. Practically the same page, same characters, two different books. What are the odds?)

(PS - can I just say, I'm in love with my Chronicles of Narnia set? We had a copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe when I was growing up, and it was the only one I ever read, and then my sophomore year of college or something I decided to look into buying a whole set - I tried to read a all-in-one-book version from the library sometime in high school, but it's hard for me to curl up with a huge book like that. Felt like I was reading an encyclopedia or something. So I looked on ebay, and lo and behold, someone was selling a whole set that matched the one book we had! I was excited beyond believe, and it was my first ebay purchase, and man. I love it. It was used, obviously, but so was the one we already had so they matched. I think they were printed in the 80s or something. I love them so. They're each really small, and such quick reads, and I just love them. Mmm. Yay.)

Seriously. Why am I still typing words? They're all pretty meaningless. And I have some Hannah Coulter to read. And some afghans to knit. And some sleep to...sleep.

Au revoir, mes amies.

Goodness. And stuff.

Have you guys visited my knitting blog yet? You know, the one with the super-awesome name that makes me chuckle to myself every time I think of it? Man. I hope that never gets old.

You know what else doesn't get old? The Young Victoria. I love love love that movie. Plus, how often do you come across a movie that's for adults and is rated PG? And is beautiful? Not often, my friends, not often. I know it's not all wholly historically accurate, but it's just so. good.

Also: I'm pretty sure that St. Rita's is going to get me through this year. I love that place already. So much.

In other good news, I finally did it. I bought myself a Swift. I got the steel/steel. Not sure why. Well, I know why. I really wanted the red/black (or the plum/black), but wasn't sure, and plus both of those are backordered until late November. And I figured the steel would go better with more stuff. So yeah. I'm excited. I think it shipped today. I'm sure I'll take pictures when it gets here. Yay.

I had a good hair day. It's weird how that can make a day slightly better. That, and adoration. And other Catholic things. And the archangels.

It's raining right now. Probably won't be so enjoyable when I have to commute in it tomorrow morning, but it's nice sitting in my window seat with the window open, hearing the soft sounds of rainfall. I like nighttime rain. And it's been awhile since we've had rain, so I guess it's a good thing.

School's kicking my butt. This year is going to kick my butt in general. I know it'll be good for me in the end, but not fun in the interim. I just have to keep myself from freaking out because I have no plans, nor goals, nor real desires for what I'm going to do once I get that hood in May. I'm sure I'll find something. Even if it's...completely unrelated. I hope. Maybe. I don't even know. The apocalypse could happen by then, I guess, so it's probably pointless to worry too much about. (That said, I do have to get my resume in order and start sending some sort of preliminary inquiric emails. Yes. Inquiric.)

Also, I miss my dog. Knowing it'll be three months before I can again hold her in my arms is the worst part about being away from home. Sure, I miss my family and all, but I can at least talk to them on the phone. The connection with a dog is much more physical-based. I mean, you can't really interact with a dog without touching it. You can't hold conversations with a dog. You can hold treats. You can't ask how a dog's day was. You can ask it to give you her paw. You can't expect a dog to want to know what you're feeling at any given moment. You can expect your dog to care, and come sit by you so that at the very least, you have something big and warm and soft and loving to hold onto, whether you're depressed or exuberant. Dogs. Man. They're the best. So much. So. I miss Nutmeg. TOOOOOONS. Gah.

(So, funny story - today, I found out/was reminded that the Tuesday after Columbus Day is what we call an "administrative Tuesday" meaning, basically, that we don't have our Tuesday classes that day. They're canceled for that week. And as of today, I no longer have class on Wednesdays. Which means...I essentially have a six-day weekend that week. Granted, I should (and need to) work, and I only have Monday off from work that week. But I'm not planning on working on Tuesdays, since I have two classes and man, working from 8-12 and then having two classes until 7:30 is just a loooong day. So, sort of technically I could get away with not going in on Tuesday at least. So when we were talking about that today, I was thinking...maybe I could fly home on that Saturday, and fly back Tuesday or something. But tickets are still like $270 to do that. I really want to, but...yeah. And then I was also thinking, the week of Thanksgiving, I'll only technically have class on Tuesday (plus the one I'm auditing on Mondays, but obviously that one doesn't matter much). So then I thought, maybe if I fly home the weekend before Thanksgiving and then stay for a week or so it'd be cheaper than flying home on Tuesday or Wednesday before, which is the reason I wasn't planning on doing it this year (Thanksgiving flights are SUUUUUUPER expensive). And it is cheaper (less than $300, I think, instead of like $450 craziness). But I don't know. A) I don't like missing class, and B) I kind of told my aunt that I'd probably do Thanksgiving with them this year, which I said last year and then ended up going home. I've also looked at how much it might cost if I go home over Halloween weekend. Not sure why then, except I'd get to see my super cute nephews in their Halloween costumes. (The nice thing is that my schedule now is such that on Fridays, my class is an audit that I could skip if absolutely necessary - although not advisable, since I've already missed one and I am responsible for knowing that information come comps time - and on Mondays, my only class is another audit, which I could really skip to my heart's content since I'm just taking it for fun. But I like it, so I wouldn't want to skip. Much. For a good cause, though, I would.) Obviously, Halloween weekend probably won't happen either, because it's really just a ridiculous thought.

But man. Three more months is a long time. I know it's not that long, but it feels very long. If I don't go home until Christmas it'll be the longest I've been away from home/gone without seeing my family, ever. (Almost 5 months. Again, not terrible, but sort of terrible.) But I might just have to suck it up and deal with it.

Well. At least I have my knitting.

And I also have a bed. Which happens to be calling my name.

Adventures in Commutement

Commuting through DC is never boring.

First, there was that morning in August when we drove into a huge, dark storm cloud that made 7am look like 5am. Crazy. But cool.

Then, there was the time we saw a panther on the back of someone's truck:

Of course, it was fake. But that didn't make it any less weird...

Then there was the day people blatantly failed to heed a "do not block intersection" sign. (We sat through a whole cycle like this because the people who were blocking the intersection couldn't move the whole time we had a green. I know our light is red in the picture, but that's only because I didn't take it fast enough.) This one's not so unusual, though. Happens all the time. Oh, DC drivers. Gotta love 'em.

And here's a fun illustration of the first half of our morning commute!

First, there's lots of traffic. Solid line of cars in all three (four?) lanes as far as the eye can see...

Nearing the Pentagon. Ten or twelve miles away, you can sort of see the Shrine, depending on the clarity of the air on any given day. The day I took this, it was not so good.

There's the Pentagon itself, with the Capitol building a few miles behind it. And look! More cars and sloooow traffic!

And there's the Washington Monument, also visible in the picture with the Shrine. It's tall. I like seeing it every day. And, hey, more cars!

The highway curves from where this was taken, and then curves back where you can see all those cars (underneath the "C" that I so prettily wrote), and continues to the "S" in "CARS". And it's packed with cars the whole way. And then some. But I have no more pictures. And no pictures of how close we get to the Jefferson Memorial (and obviously we get closer to the Washington Monument, and the Capitol, and you can even see the Lincoln Memorial for a little bit of the commute when we're near the Jefferson).

Lots of traffic. But some cool sights, too. Not everyone can say they get to see some of our country's most iconic man-made sights every day. (Although, sometimes it feels like everyone in the world is driving into, and then out of, the city, because how can THAT MANY PEOPLE actually live around here? Sheesh.)

Another 8 months of this. Wonder what else I'll get to see... (I should start taking pictures of some of the more ridiculous vanity plates we see. Apparently it's super cheap to get specialized plates in Virginia, so lots of people do, and sometimes they choose really weird things to write on their plates. Really weird.)

The pictures make this post ALMOST worthwhile.

A couple things of import:

• First of all, it's really nothing of import.
• Second, the other day when driving to school, I had a country station on. (Man, sometimes country music is just delightful to listen to. Especially when it's Josh Turner. Or a bunch of others. But I find that I get sick of country if it's my "primary" radio station, so usually my primary is generic adult soft rock. Also quite enjoyable.) They were talking about something, and I guess they had played a song that reminded the female DJ of some other song, and she couldn't figure out what it was. Someone called in and said it was Hey There, Delilah, and the female DJ got excited and realized that yes, that's what it was. (I don't know what was the original country song they were talking about, so I can't comment as to whether or not this is true.) Anyway. They kept talking, or it went to commercial or something, so I switched to my fallback station. And guess what they played not two minutes later? Yep. Hey There Delilah. Not wholly unusual to hear that song, but to hear it minutes after it was discussed on a country music station? Kinda weird. But I like it when stuff like that happens. It's just funny.
• I think I've said this every week so far, but man, I really enjoy the church I'm going to now. I always liked the church I went to up in Silver Spring (and might make a trip up there again one of these Sundays, just to go again), but I never really felt like it was "my" church, somehow. I don't know if I feel that way about St. Rita's, either, but I do know that I really, really like it. It's smaller than St. Bernadette, which is nice, and it's prettier too, but the music is pretty comparable. Both have many families/couples/babies (I'd say St. B's had more families with older kids, while St. Rita has more couples with one baby, but I think that makes sense given the areas in which both are located). Both also seem to have more single young women than single young men, but I think that's a given of any Catholic church these days. But definitely lots of couples. More women with veils at St. Rita, which might entice me to start wearing mine again. I was going to say that I love that they sing the Gloria every week, in Latin, but then I remembered that St. B's does that too. All the cool people do that. (Seriously, I love singing the Gloria in Latin. I still haven't quite memorized it yet, but I know where to find it in the book! And I know a lot of it by heart.) Anyway. Point is, I really like it there, and the priest announced today that they're starting a Young Adult's group next month. As in, like next week. Don't know if I'll go, but it might be interesting to check out. It's been so long since I've really been involved in a parish, and I really want to be. Even though I'll only be here another 8 months (God willing...)
• So, the other day I was sitting in our student lounge prior to class starting. And I was knitting, because, you know, that's what I do. One of the priests who's a student at the Institute, who is also rather awesome, walked in and kind of chuckled. He had seen me knitting *in public* sometime last year, when a bunch of us went to this little pub down the street from CUA between the then-second years' Tuesday afternoon and Tuesday evening classes (a tradition that my class has not kept up. Probably because I was one of the few of my class last year who participated). When he saw me knitting last year, he laughed because I guess he's not used to seeing non-grandmothers knitting. So when he saw me knitting last week, he chuckled again, and said something about me knitting in public, or knitting without shame, or something. Either way, the phrase "knitting without shame" made its way into my head, and I realized how AWESOME it is. Maybe because I'm currently up to my eyeballs in THEOLOGY OF THE BODY ALL THE TIME, and the whole "naked without shame" is sorta a part of that. Well, anyway, whatever it is, point is that I realized it's the phrase I was looking for so long. So. My knitting blog? (Which has, thus far, been pretty pathetic, I'll admit.) It's now Knitting Without Shame. I hope that doesn't make it blasphemous...or something...I don't know. I just know that I love it! And it's perfect. And it makes me super duper happy. The end.
• Speaking of knitting, well, maybe I should save it for my knitting blog, since I never write there. So, go check it out. But maybe wait a little while, since it might take me awhile. Who knows. (I'm watching football. And that takes precedence. Speaking of which, I'm starting to think I'm crazy for trying to follow three different teams. Patriots, Steelers, Broncos. It's too much. Broncos is a recent acquisition, maybe a result of my strong affinity for anything Colorado now that I'm not in Colorado. Sometimes I think I should stop following the Patriots, but I can't. Steelers, though? I think I'll root for them. But I'm not necessarily going to follow them anymore. I like them, I really like Troy Polamalu, and I always hear such good things about their team in general being pretty...good, morally and such (with certain obvious exceptions...), but I think they're going to the bottom of the three now. Luckily, none of the three play each other very often...that I know of...maybe Patriots/Steelers...I don't know. Anyway. Whatever. I don't know what I'm talking about.)
• Stay tuned here, too - I'm going to put up fun pictures I took of my commute the other day! Yay!
• On Friday, which was September 24, which means there was less than a full week left in the month of September, DCA hit a record 98 degrees. 98. Degrees. Ridiculous. What is wrong with it here? Sheesh. Today is quite a bit cooler, and actually drizzled a bit this morning. But still. Almost a full week of 90s temps at the end of September. One Sunday of low 70s, at the most, does not make up for that. A week of 70s, maybe.
• I've ceased to make sense now, so this is all. I'll leave you with pretty pictures of birthday flowers I got from work!

Seven Quick Takes Volume XVI

1. So, you know that post I wrote last night? About traffic, and how I don't mind it, and how I probably just cursed myself and that I would get into an accident today? Well...not me, but my roommate, as it turns out. :-( She's ok, just a fairly small fender bender, but enough to do some damage to her car. We actually drove separately today since she was going to be staying for something tonight, but yeah. Quite the unfortunate situation, to say the least.

2. That bag I mentioned the other day? I'm gonna get it. Hopefully like this weekend. (I just have to figure out where to ship it, as I'd rather not have something like this just left outside the apartment building if they can't get in. I can, however, either have it sent to my old house - cleared it with the former roomie today - or possibly sent to work. Which would be better, but I feel weird about it for some reason.) I'm almost totally convinced to do it.

3. I can't believe how much I'm practically craving to be on an airplane. Because that means getting away from here. Far away. Sigh. I hate being so far away from my family and my home. Hate it.

4. Apparently there's a bit of an infestation of stink bugs in the area...specifically in Maryland. Considering how many I had to catch and flush back when I was living there, I'm very glad I'm not there now. I'd probably be dealing with several per day, and I am not ok with that. As it is, I've seen two or three - one out in the hall outside our apartment, and one on the screen of our kitchen window (outside). Maybe one, or two actually, inside that have had to be killed/flushed. Not too bad. And very few spiders, too, as opposed to the several per day I was used to seeing at the house. (Mostly harmless, of the same variety, and I got used to them, but still gross.)

5. I know I've mentioned on here being sick of praying novenas for a certain specific intention, and I had decided it was time to stop, but then I came across a blog post somewhere that mentioned the upcoming feast of the Archangels (Sept 29), and that it was the day to start a novena for the feast day. So...I'm now concurrently praying novenas to St. Michael (because I kinda love St. Michael) - although, not for that certain specific intention - and, duh, St. Raphael. (Because, um, St. Raphael is great. And, in case you weren't aware, one of the patron saints of finding a spouse. You know, the whole story of Tobias and Sara.) Whatever. There's something comforting about the structure of novenas, regardless of outcome. Plus, the archangels rock.

6. I have approximately 135 movies. Is that excessive? Or...acceptable? I'm just not sure. But, I can say that I can't wait until I have something of a settled existence and can have them all out in a bookshelf, or in a bin, or something - in their cases, instead of in a single (very large) DVD holder. One which doesn't even fit all my DVDs anymore. Anyway. I just like movies. They comfort me sometimes. So, whatever.

7. I don't have anything good for a seven take. So, here's a link to an article I read part of today. (Haven't finished it yet, but so far it's interesting.) America's One-Child Policy. This whole "childfree" movement, or people who want maybe one child, it makes me angry. Who do they think are going to take care of them, or of anything, when they're old? I mean, really. It's logic, people. Oh, and dude, if it's actually true that the world fertility rate in 1979 was 6.0, and now is 2.6? Wow. That's crazy. And sad.

Relax from the stress by sitting in traffic!

Since I'm trying to keep posts semi on one topic (um, since...now, I guess), these two thoughts get their own post.

One, I'm finding myself not hating traffic. It's weird. I don't mind it. Knock on wood, because this'll probably bite me in the butt, like, tomorrow. But when I drive to school/work in the morning, as long as I've given myself a good 40-60 minutes, I'm typically fine. This morning I left later than I normally do, and it took me closer to an hour than 40 minutes, but I had expected that, so I was fine with it. I expect bumper-to-bumper traffic on 395. I expect people to muscle their way in wherever they can when they need to get over. I do it too. I expect people occasionally to hold up traffic behind them at the very end of a lane where they can merge without having to go on a different exit or to a different highway. I do that too. It happens. And somehow, it doesn't bother me. The crappy drivers? I expect them. Driving the speed limit on the highway at any given point? An unexpected blessing when it happens, if it's not 6am or 8pm. That's just the way things are. Sucks that it uses more gas, and that it uses more time, etc. But what around here doesn't suck? So, I just sit there, grateful I don't have to waste just as much time, more or less, on the metro, where I'm stuck sitting in very close proximity to other people (sometimes standing, and sometimes in much too close proximity); thankful I can sit in my car (or my roommate's car), listening to my music (or her music), sometimes with the windows rolled down (like today, despite the fact that we got above 90 again today (and the high tomorrow is 95, too - boo). I can feel grateful when people let me merge in front of them. And I get to pass it on when I let people merge in front of me.

And those times the commute takes an hour? Makes the times it takes 30 minutes seem such a treat.

(I really hope I don't get into a car accident tomorrow, or something. I could see that happening. Sometimes it seems like a miracle more people don't get into accidents around here. But I guess when everyone's going 5mph, it's a bit less dangerous than when we're going 60 and aren't necessarily expecting people to be merging left and right.)

The other thing...what was it...Oh. Well, maybe I shouldn't mention it here. Let's just say, the Institute and I? We're not on the best terms right now. Well, I'm not on the best terms. It doesn't care a snit what I think. But anyway.

Yeah. There are other things to say, but not right now.

(Isn't it weird that, with all the unpleasantness contained in this city, I manage almost to enjoy the traffic? Which is, unquestionably, terrible, and no one likes. And obviously, hello, life would be so much better/easier/nicer/more convenient if there weren't traffic and it only took a reasonable amount of time, like, twenty minutes, to drive the twelve miles to school/work. But still. What the heck, Susie?)

Oh - one other thing. Can I tell you how ridiculous the next two weeks are for me? So, we have this condensed Theology of the Body course (which...don't get me started on that. In a word, I'm annoyed). The final is supposed to be next Thursday, but our teacher told us today that we can move it back a week if we want. And I think all were amenable to that. So that'd be October 7, I think. Now, on the one hand, I'm grateful for that, because I'm so far behind in my TOB reading it's not even funny, and dude, that is a HUGE book and we're supposed to finish it by next Thursday? Including the last 50 pages which are supposed to be read by Wednesday, the day before our final was originally going to be? Not cool. But on the other hand, because the Institute is oh-so-good at planning things around our classes and schedules and stuff, on October 4 (that'd be a Monday) there's a lecture we're "required" to go to in the afternoon. On October 6, we (the second years) have our second book forum, less than a week after when our final was scheduled, for our crazy-intense condensed TOB course - which means they expect us to be reading an extra book right now on top of everything, plus we're supposed to write a 2 page paper on it and turn that in the day before the book forum. (No, two pages isn't much, but we still have to do it.) So that was annoying in and of itself. But now? Now, we're going to have to take that final the day after our book forum, which goes until 8:30 Wednesday night. Very much not cool. On top of which, those of us in the marriage and family track (instead of bioethics) are supposed to turn in a paper topic proposal, plus a proposed bibliography, for the 15 page paper we have to write this semester for our Patristics class. Due October 7. Yeah.

All of this to say, the end of September no longer means the end of craziness. Oh no. September is so crazy it's spilling into October now. And I just want to go home. (Seriously, I don't know how I'm going to manage another three months of this without a break. Without an escape. Without Colorado, or somewhere to go that's not here, but that's relaxing.) I'm pretty sure I have enough miles on both United and Frontier, and I'm seriously tempted to see if I can use them for some random weekend sometime. I really want to use them for Thanksgiving, but I'm pretty sure that won't happen. I'm super sad I won't be going home for Thanksgiving. First time ever. Sucks. But it wouldn't be so bad if I had something else to look forward to, even if it's just a random weekend in October. Except weekends go by so quickly, and then it's like, was that even worth it?)

Hm. That was a bit of a tangent there. I guess it's just made even worse by the fact that lots of people I know are getting to go home in one (or more) of the next few weekends. Even ones who live in California. Or Nebraska. And especially those who live in Ohio (and can drive home on random weekends. And not-so-random ones). And I? I'm stuck in DC. With nothing to do, either, because everyone's abandoning ship here there and everywhere. It sucks.

Oh yeah, I was complaining about school. So, I don't know how I'm going to get it all done. Maybe he'll let us take the TOB final on Monday the 4th. I would be so happy with Monday the 4th. He's pretty nice, so maybe that'll be ok. Because seriously? I can't do it otherwise. Extralecturebookforumpaperbookforumstudyforfinalpickpapertopicandbibliography? No thank you.

The weekend after that extravaganza is a long weekend, at least. (Perfect for visits home! ha. Or not.) Of course, then I have a midterm the next week which should be oh-so-lovely. But at least I'll be done done done with TOB, and have a few more monkeys off my back by then.

It'll be a miracle if I survive this year intact. Because people are already talking about starting to study for comps as soon as TOB is over. Comps. Which are still seven months away. (And which I'm pretty sure I'm going to fail in epic fashion, which should be a greater motivator for me to start studying sooner, too...)

All righty.

I am not a Pelagian!

You guys, a thought occurred to me tonight. (Maybe it's occurred to me before, but tonight, it came in concrete, logical form.)

A large reason I will be so, so glad if I ever find someone who wants me (you know, like, a guy) is so that I can stop feeling like I HAVE TO GO TO EVERYTHING just in case I might meet someone there. Because there's nothing more annoying than saying I wish that person had just found me already, only to have someone respond to me that he won't ever find me if I sit at home all the time. So then ANY time there's ANYTHING to go to, I feel like I have to go, because if I don't, welp, maybe there goes my chance. Which, I know, is fairly ridiculous. But still. That feeling is there. And oh how stressful it makes life. I mean, really, it's exhausting. And I'm sick of it. I don't like feeling like I'm going to these things solely as a way maybe to meet a guy. (Especially since I never do, anyway.) Even if it's something I might have wanted to go to, I can't help but have that bit of it in there, and I don't like that. Not to mention the fact that everything I go to tends to be more girl-heavy anyway, since single eligible Catholic young men are typically snatched up rather quickly, especially around here. So then even if there were one at something I go to, it's not like I'd ever catch someone's eye, since I'm just one of many.

Seriously, it's amazing how much being here (especially at the Institute) makes me feel completely a-unique. Which isn't a word, I don't think. But really, guys around here have their pick of girls. I imagine it's sort of what being a girl on the Bachelor feels like, except not, since...well, for all sorts of reasons. But it sucks. I mean, well, anyway. It's not fun. And yes, I realize that the right one is the right one and it doesn't matter how many other Catholic young women are around, but a girl needs to be noticed in order to be found, you know? It's hard to feel noticed here. I guess that's ok, because it is what it is and what it is is this. And God can make anything happen. But still.

I'm sick of it. I don't want to be "on the prowl." I know I don't have to be, but it's sooooo hard to turn off that part of the brain, the part that can't help but look for wedding rings, or listen for the word "girlfriend", or try to size up the Catholicness of the person. (And it's even harder when all these things pass the test, but it doesn't matter because all the girls around here are lovely, beautiful, faithful, orthodox women. And most of them exceed me in most positive attributes. And any eligible guy that's hanging around would, I'm sure, be quite happy with any of them.) (And I know, again, the right person is the right person. But still.)

(I would also like to point out here that I think this might be part of the reason I love knitting so much. It is one rather unique thing I have. I mean, not that it's really a great way to snatch a guy, because I'm pretty sure most guys don't sit around thinking, "Man, I really wish I had a girlfriend who could knit. Just like my grandmother does!" Hahahahaha. Oh man. Mostly, it's a weird hobby to have. But still. It's something.)

Aaaanyway...so tomorrow night, instead of going to this talk thing that I've been thinking about going to (both because it sounds sort of interesting, and because you never know who might be there, Susie), I'm staying home. And relaxing. Probably (hopefully) reading, because I'm pretty sure the next two weeks are going to kill me. Maybe drinking some wine and watching a movie later. I'm all theology-talked out, which I realize is sort of a problem considering that's basically my life right now - but it doesn't have to be my life every Friday night.

Who knows. Maybe I'll be missing out on meeting some guy I'm supposed to meet. But maybe, I'll get to relax and get myself in a better mindset. And then I'll be a better person when I meet him at the next thing.

(Hahaha. Yeah. Because that'll happen.)



(Seriously, though, it's exhausting. Girls aren't supposed to be the pursuers. But guys don't seem to be very good at pursuing. And it's true, that no one will know I'm around to be pursued if I never do anything. But I also can't just do everything in the hopes that...well, that he'll be at something, eventually. Gah. How annoying it is. You people don't even understand. Frustrating. Because, really, ultimately, tomorrow night? I don't want to go. But there's always that part of me that thinks I should. But I don't want to. And I really don't want to go for that reason specifically and then there's no one there, and then I have to sit through the whole thing realizing I could be at home, by myself, relaxing and not having to put my best face on in hopes of who knows what.)

(Ok. I didn't mean this to be so long. I'll stop now.) (It's just hard to figure out the balance, you know? I know God can make anything happen, but he needs us to do our part, too, and sitting on the couch watching movies with my roommate isn't going to help him much. But I doubt he wants me on the prowl, either. Especially since I'm not supposed to be the prowler. I'm the prey. But...in a nice, non-carnivorous way.)

(Now I'm done.) (Except, really, I'm never done.) (But I also don't know why I keep talking about this here. On my blog. On the internet. Which anyone, theoretically, could read. It's kinda embarrassing. But apparently not embarrassing enough to make me not do it.)

(I think I have issues.)

Motivation FAIL

I've got my eye on a knitting bag. I came across it randomly about a month ago. And oh, how I want this bag. I know what you're thinking: $80 for a knitting bag? But here's the thing. I love love love knitting. (In case you hadn't noticed.) I've become one of those people who always has knitting with her (even to the point where I might randomly decide with someone to go visit the Capitol building, and realize that we won't be allowed in because I happen to have knitting needles in my bag). You never know when you might be just sitting somewhere, waiting for the Metro, or between class, or...who knows. And instead of just sitting there, I could be just sitting there and knitting! Anyway.

So why don't I just use one of the number of bags I have? Well, I've been doing that. To the point where at least one of them (a cheap-ish Target canvas bag, which I do quite love) is starting to come apart at the seams, because I over-stuff it, using it as my primary purse, plus knitting-holder, plus carrying around Theology of the Body all summer (in hopes that I'd get it all read and finished before the school year started. Well, I got about a tenth of it finished prior to school starting, so that's something). So now I'm back to one of my smaller canvas bags, and my messenger bag, since none of my bags are really that great for holding all my stuff (purse stuff, knitting, and books for class). It's kind of annoying carrying around both, but for some reason I hate constantly transferring stuff from purse to messenger bag back to purse, etc. (Since, if I go somewhere other than school, obviously I don't need to bring the large messenger bag with me.) I did that a fair amount this summer, switching between various bags depending on a variety of variables. And I tended to forget things. Annoying.

So, again, why this bag? This expensive bag? Well. I've done my research, let me tell you. And this bag? Yeah. Seems wonderful. Based on its measurements, I'm fairly confident I'd be able to fit school stuff (it's tall and wide enough to fit a compendium/notebook/whatever), and it has great compartments for purse stuff, and it comes with these awesome knitting sacks so that knitting projects don't get messed up being in a bag with other stuff (as I've had problems with since I started carting around knitting). It's also very high-quality, based on pretty much everyone's reviews. It stands up on its own, too, which is lovely. And apparently the shoulder straps are GREAT, and don't have a tendency to slide off very easily (another problem I've run into).

My messenger bag is six years old now. I got it to replace my backpack when I started college, which I had been wanting to do for awhile. I've gotten good use out of it, and I'm sure I won't be done with it even if I get this new bag. (For one thing, my laptop certainly wouldn't fit in the bag, if ever I need to do that.) But I've been considering replacing it for awhile. And now I have different needs for a bag. Plus, I got some birthday money that would basically cover the cost of the bag. But...I'm not big on buying things. Well, unless it's something cheap, and/or on Amazon. I tend to buy those a bit too quickly (hence my ridiculously large DVD collection...oh Target and your $5 bargain movies. I'm so weak to your ways). Something like this, though? Takes a lot of thought. I mean, on Ravelry (a knitting/crocheting site I go to all the time, I loooove it), there's a 26-page-long thread on their forum about this particular knitting bag. And I'm about halfway through reading it. And I intend to read it all, because I like to research things. I don't need this bag. I could probably just buy maybe some of the Tom Bihn organizer bags they have, and/or one or two of their knitting sacks (one of which comes free with the knitting bag), and just throw my stuff in there and switch between bags I already have depending on where I'm going.

I could do that. But oh, how I want this bag. It's not perfect, I know. But neither is anything. So, to motivate myself, I said I could get it at the end of the week if I do all my reading for the week. (I've already failed. And it's only Tuesday.) So. Maybe I'll let myself think on it a little more, and if I still think it's a good idea, I'll reward myself for getting through this crazy September month by buying it. Of course, then I have to decide what color I'd want. And the two colors I think I might like (Plum/Black or Crimson/Black) are both on backorder until late October...so...there's that, too. (It's hard enough for me to decide whether or not to buy it, let alone what COLOR to get!) I could spend an extra $40 and get the Cork one, which would be cool. I was briefly considering that, but...$40 is a little crazy, I think. Maybe someday. Or maybe not. I could just get the black/black, or the steel/steel.

Anyway. Yeah, I think that's what I'll do. Not this weekend, but next, if I still haven't talked myself out of it, I'll get it.

And I should also tell myself I have to get all my work done this week and next week, too, because it did work ever so slightly. I did more the other night (when I made this deal with myself) than I would have, I think. Although the other problem is I let myself get distracted by knitting in general (last night I made my first pom pom to put on top of a baby hat. It's in the wash right now, so we'll see how it holds up. Not sure if I'm very confident about it...but here's hoping). I try to use knitting as a motivator (read this article, knit two rows). Sometimes I do attempt knit-reading, in which I knit while I read, but it makes both processes go more slowly. Anyway. I just wonder what it means when I'd much prefer knitting to reading these theological texts I'm supposedly here to be reading. And this bag was supposed to be my motivation to stay on track this week, and I feel more behind than ever. Not to mention, I sneak peeks at the forum seeing what people's opinion on this bag is (vs other bags, because maybe I should get some different bag other knitters like) when I should be reading. Sigh.

I don't know. All I know is, without my knitting, I'd have gone crazy long ago. Long, long ago. And at least four times this month.

So, I think I'll be getting that bag. Now to decide when...and what color...hm.

Nine years; same story

Nine years ago, I turned 16. Three days after September 11 (the first time it became a marked day). I was depressed when my birthday rolled around on that Friday, after the horror that was Tuesday. My sister took me on some errands after school that day - I seem to remember her going into a Media Play (which I don't think exist anymore) and buying a CD, and then something about she had to stop by Mountasia, a mini-golf/arcade place that also is no longer in existence. I think she said she had a friend there she had to see really quickly, or something. I was sort of in a haze, and not really paying attention to anything, and I think she had just taken me with her as an excuse to get me out of the house, out and around. When she went into Mountasia, either I stayed in the car and she came back out to get me, saying it was going to take a little longer, or I just went in with her. Either way, I ended up walking in, and walked past this partition that sort of separated the "party" area of the building from the arcade area. And as I passed it and turned, all of a sudden there was my family, and a bunch of my friends, waiting for me. My first surprise party, and it was great. And I had no idea.

Five days ago, I turned 25. Again, three days after September 11. Normally not so much a big deal for me anymore, but this year it was. This year, I had done a little bit too much research about the day - specifically, the conditions inside the two towers before they collapsed. I was surprised how much it hit me, but then I realized that previously, while I knew that every person who died had their own stories and families and all that, all those who died sort of just got lumped together in my brain. I hadn't thought much about what it was like between when the planes hit the buildings, and when the buildings collapsed. I hadn't realized how many people called their families, how much information people outside the building gathered about those inside. But this year, I found out, and it's overwhelming. A week later now, I try not to think about it much, but it really affected me this year. Again. I wasn't in the best place even before that anniversary came around again this year, but that certainly didn't help. This year, I did manage to have a good birthday, and be happy, and enjoy it. But the rest of the week still wasn't great. I feel weird talking about it, especially in reference to 9/11 because, really, what right do I have to be depressed about it? I'm more of a spectator than anything when it comes to that. I didn't really live it, didn't really experience it. So I haven't really talked about it much to anyone, except once or twice. But you never know how things are going to affect you, I guess. Sometimes, things sneak in and just take hold and are hard to shake. Yesterday, I just wanted to lie in bed all day. The thought of doing anything made me tired. But one of my friends was adamant about getting me out of the house, at least for a little while, for dinner or something. So we went to Old Town, had a little something (neither of us were very hungry), she bought a book at a bookstore down there, and we headed back to my apartment to watch the ND-MSU game. And in I walked to a surprise party. For me, obviously. And it was lots of fun.

What's the point of all this? I'm not sure. Except, apparently, sometimes it takes a surprise party to reset me. Kinda like hiccups. Or something. I mean, who knows how this week will go; maybe I'll go back to being my typical taciturn, sullen self. But things feel better now, somehow. I mean, that plus going to Mass at St. Rita's this morning. How can I be anything but happy and thankful?

(PS: My roommate Alissa is super awesome, because I'm a terrible person to live with and yet she still throws me a surprise party for my birthday. I certainly don't deserve it.)

I'm gonna paint you a little picture

So, you've seen the Incredibles, right? (If you haven't, I'm sad for you, because that movie is AWESOME. Go watch it. Right now.)

You know the scene where he sneaks into that secret area, and then his homing device goes off which sets off the alarms, and all these weird sticky balloon things start shooting out at him? At first he's got one on him, which I think he can get off, but then here come three more, and more, and he can't fight them off and finally he's just overcome by this barrage.

That's what I feel like lately. Except, instead of weird sticky balloon things, it's people in my newsfeed (and elsewhere) announcing engagements and weddings and pregnancies and babies. Which are, yes, good things, unlike the weird sticky balloon things. But for me, it feels like a barrage. The first one, ok, I can deal with that, just let it roll off me. The next couple are a little harder. And now, lately, it's like this constant stream, every day, some new announcement by someone I know (or pretend to know). So now, the things I want more than anything else, the things I yearn for more than I ever have, the things that seem so very far away from me, the things I have to (get to) study the joys and beauties of ALL THE TIME; everyone else is getting them. But not me. Never me. Not even close. And oh, it's so hard. And oh, how very much I feel them attaching themselves to me in this overwhelming and increasing intensity, each one inflating until I'm covered and can't stand anymore. Goodness, it's difficult. I wish it weren't, because I feel supremely pathetic, but there it is.

And really, wonderful though my classes are in general, they really aren't helping. I mean, imagine that you...I don't know, imagine that you really wanted a boat. Really, really wanted a boat. But you couldn't get one for yourself because you don't have the money or ability, and so you have to wait for someone to give one to you. But you really felt like you were supposed to have a boat. At the same time, you had to research all these aspects of boats and boating, most of which is pretty pro-boating, extolling the wonders of having a boat. So you're waiting for someone to come along and give you a boat, while being immersed in learning about how great boats are. You don't even know if the right boat will ever come along, either, but you know how great having a boat could be. Especially since so many of your friends are getting boats, and you have their experiences with boating to know that having a boat is a wonderful thing.

Pretty poor analogy, I know, but maybe you kinda get it.

It's just so hard. I mean, it's one thing not to enjoy being single but being forced to be with nothing I can do about it. It's another to have to sit through class every day, learning all about the complementarity of the sexes, how beautiful the unity of the male/female relationship is, learning what the proper role of the husband is (you know, that Ephesians 5 passage that feminists hate for some reason is really a lot harder on the husband, if people listened past the first part to get that far), learning about the utter importance of marriage and the family for society. Classes extolling the beauty of the married life are not the easiest things to hear when one is perpetually and always single. And that's part of where the resentment of God comes in. He dragged me to this place (which, obviously, I still haven't learned the lesson there, since I still feel like I'm dragged, usually), taking me away from family and friends and everything I know and love and anything familiar, to Washington DC of all places. And has kept me single the whole time. He brought me to this place where it's almost impossible to view the married life as something to be avoided (unless, I suppose, one feels/has a calling to the religious life). And during my first year here, he decided that would be the perfect time for me to experience wedding after wedding after wedding of my friends. And he kept me single. And now, it's still hearing about engagement and wedding after engagement and wedding after engagement and wedding, and even having to live with it on a daily basis with friends who managed to get snagged. But it's also starting to be pregnancy and baby and pregnancy and baby and oh pregnancy and don't forget about that pregnancy. Oh, and that engagement. And here I am. Single. Alone. Wondering if I'll ever get to know what it's like to have someone (try to) love me as Christ loves the Church (which is quite a tall order, I realize). Or, heck, even just to have someone hold my hand. Do you know how much I wish I had someone just to hold his hand once in awhile?

Anyway. Dang. It's hard. But there's literally nothing I can do about it. I'm sure I'm supposed to change something about myself, and once I figure out what that is, maybe then someone will finally find me. Or maybe I'm not going to find him until after I leave here, which sucks, but obviously there's some reason God wants me here. (I mean, really. It doesn't feel like it, since I still have had to take out some loans for living expenses, but I'm attending graduate school for free. That's nothing to sneeze at, and obviously God has something to do with it.) So I just have to sit. Be tortured in class by the fact that, really, there's no way I can truly understand what they're talking about when they talk about the beauty of love between a man and a woman, even though I really want to. Wait for God. (Who is, ironically, actually waiting for me. We all know when there's a communications issue between a person and God, God's kinda perfect so the issue can't be on that side.) Really, what I have to do is to figure out how to make Go be all I need in life. So that even if every person I knew suddenly...wasn't there, for some reason, physically or emotionally or whatever, I'd still be ok. Because I've got God, so what else do I need? (Except, another thing they're big on in this school is the need for communion with other people. Communio personarum, and all that. Maybe God wants that hermitage thing for some people, but I doubt he wants it for all. I guess what  I really need is to figure out how to make it so God is unequivocally and always #1 in my life, but learn how to be a better friend/sister/daughter/randompersononthestreet to those around me. Especially if I am single for awhile/forever.)

I feel like all I can do is wait. But I guess, really, there's a lot I need to figure out how to do to change myself into the person I'm supposed to be when the waiting time is over. (Unfortunately, I'm at a loss as to what that means. Not that I don't think I need to change anything about myself, because boy oh boy do I sometimes really suck as a person. But is there some huge thing about me on which I have to do a complete 180 before God decides I'm ready? And if so, what is it? And how am I supposed to know?)

And then there's me wondering, do I keep praying God will bring someone to me, knowing that it's all up to him anyway, and after years of praying I'd rather just pray for peace and the strength to accept whatever he decides even though he and I both know what I'd prefer, but knowing also that I've made it this far and I don't know how it could get any more difficult than it already is so I'm sure I'll manage to be ok even if the answer is a big fat NO from him; but at the same time knowing that persistence can be a good thing - there's the persistent widow in Luke 18, and the persistent neighbor (not to mention that whole "ask, seek, knock" part) in Luke 11, etc - so maybe he wants me to keep asking him for it. I'm kind of sick of asking, though.

Well. We'll see where this all leads me.

Anyway. I don't know why I'm actually about to hit publish on this post...but I think I am.

It all boils down to one thing

Things that make me all happy inside right now:

• Pope Benedict. Gosh, I love that man. The more I read of him, the more I read about him. He's just so good. And so good for the Church. And so needed right now. And he gets so much negativity, which is why he's so needed. People hate him because he sees and preaches the truth so clearly, and they know it, and they know they're wrong. But no one wants to hear someone say that they're wrong. But Pope Benedict? He's so, so right. Ah. Good stuff, him.
• Theology of the Body. John Paul II gave the world a huge gift with that one. Man. It's tough to get through (and loooong), and while it's awesome having a class on it, it's not so awesome having a class all in one month and trying to absorb it and get through it all and understand it - but all that said, it's still just so magnificent. And so TRUE. And yes, I'm more than a little disappointed that they sort of switched profs on us so that my class doesn't have the professor who helped write a book exploring ToB (meaning, he knows it SUPER well), and instead we have his brother (both are priests, and both just so great, really), who also seems to know it pretty well, but I still really wish we had the one who wrote the book on it. Especially since I heard such great things about him from all the classes above mine who had him at least once, and we won't have him at all. Even the class below us is getting him this semester for Christology. Anyway. I digress. Despite that disappointment, it's still a great class, and ToB is a good thing. Too bad it's so overwhelmingly large that it's difficult to recommend to people. I mean, a 700 page book - especially one written by JPII - isn't something one commits to lightly, really. But. If you have some extra time, and feel like reading some amazing stuff, you should.
• The JPII Institute is really a great thing. I mean, I think the current pedagogy they tend to use right now sort of sucks (basically, they tell us to read something like 50-100+ pages of reading each night, sometimes more, and not light reading either, and then we go to class and they talk at us for two hours per class. It's more reading than we can typically adequately process, so it's either read it all but retain little, or slowly digest some but not finish, or just give up altogether and hope it'll all turn out ok. And...it's just...not great, in my opinion), but the Institute itself, and what we're learning, is so great and important for our world today. It really is. And that's a good thing.
• Knitting. Oh, how I love it. I'm addicted. It gives me a high, it really does. Even though I'm rarely truly satisfied with anything I make, I still love it. Can't get enough. Wish I could knit all the time. If grad school has taught me anything, it's that I'm not an academic. I was made to knit. And, maybe, bake. I would have done well as a pioneer woman, getting to do that kind of thing all the time. I was so born in the wrong century. And yet, God decided I should be born in 1985. And that, almost 25 years later, I should go to graduate school at the John Paul II Institute, where I'd be forced for two years to pretend like I'm an academic-type. Who knows why, but that's how it happened. I guess I just have to keep on knitting, and hope the answers come sooner than later.
• Oh, we spent the whole of my Patristics class today talking about St. John Chrysostom. Much of the focus was on a few of his homilies about, you guessed it, marriage and family. And oh man, some of it is PRICELESS. Maybe someday I'll type some out. They're good stuff. I like him. Also: Ephesians 5? Awesome. Totally.
• And there's some other stuff, but maybe I'll save that for the weekend, since it doesn't really fit in well with the theme of this post, such as it is.

Basically, in a word? (Well, minus the knitting thing, although there's that whole "I knit you in your mother's womb" thing.) Catholic.

Being Catholic is the only reason I'm sane right now. If I am. Although, I guess I can't really say that, because if I weren't Catholic I certainly wouldn't be at the JPII Institute. But who knows where I would be. So I'm just gonna go with being Catholic is the best thing about who I am.

Quarter-Centenarianism

Well everyone, it's official. I am 25 years old. Weird. (Isn't it always interesting how an age above your own seems...well, just older, until you hit that age, and then it's...just normal? I guess that's the way it goes.)

[By the way, my birthday also happens to fall on the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross (aka Triumph of the Cross, but "exaltation" sounds so much better, doesn't it?). It's funny; I used to feel gypped that I wasn't born on the feast day of any saint. I mean, there's no St. Susan, and I don't get a saint on my birthday? (Yes, there is a St. Susanna, and I've since decided I can include her as a saint with my name.) But that was before I really knew that there was anything special about today's feast. Now, I think it's the coolest thing ever. I mean, really. The triumphant cross! We wouldn't be Christians if it weren't for the cross, you know? We wouldn't have a chance. So, super cool day to be born. (Plus, most people don't get two readings during daily Mass on their birthdays. Just the regular one plus Gospel. But today's feast gets two. And that's pretty cool.) All in all, I think I got a pretty good deal being born today. And while there's not a saint associated with it per se, St. Helena is credited with finding the True Cross which is partly what we celebrate today, and thus I've adopted her as one of my go-to saints, too. Well, adopt isn't really the right word. But you know what I mean.]

It is weird that I'm 25, though. I don't know what I used to think I'd be doing when I turned 25 (I don't think I thought much about turning 25 until it started looming as this scary age at which being Still Single would be the Worst Thing Ever) (and I'm not going to pretend it isn't at least mildly depressing, let's be honest), but I can tell you for sure that being in DC, in my second year of graduate school, was not even on my radar.

And yet, here I am. And happy birthday to me.

Plus some friends who were kind enough to celebrate with me. (Me, Alissa, Monica, Kristy, Jenny. And the lovely Dawn is behind the camera.)

(And yes, I'm including that delicious venti pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks you see there as one of my friends.)

All in all, not a bad birthday. I'll take it.

(Or, if you prefer the nature look...)

I'm a dork, I know.

See? It's ok, though. I mean, a girl only has a 25th birthday once in her life. Why not have an impromptu photo shoot to mark the occasion?

Anyway. Yeah. Not too bad for another birthday spent far, far away from my family. At least my super awesome mom baked me a chocolate chip banana bread/cake, with chocolate frosting, and shipped it out here, complete with Happy Birthday candles. That's pretty super duper awesome, really. But what can I say? I have an awesome family. And I love love love them. And I can't wait to see them again, even if it does seem like Christmas won't ever get here because it's still months away. Oh well. My family rox my sox.

(And my friends are great too. Including the friends out here who did their best to make it a good day for me. Hours of work and class aside.)

...and with that, she closed the book on her first day as a 25-year-old, wondering what the year would bring.

One last time from the 24s

Ah, birthdays. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. Oh well.

Tomorrow's will be...just another day. Working in the morning, leaving work an hour early to treat myself to noon Mass at the Shrine (which I haven't gone to in months, and I quite miss it, and tomorrow is the Exaltation of the Cross so it'll be a little bit of a more dressed-up Mass than regular daily Mass), then two classes, with maybe another hour of work, and home after 8. Lovely way to spend a 25th birthday, no? Oh well. Birthdays are overrated anyway. Especially when you're far from family and most friends. And aren't really doing anything special (and don't really want to).

But still. I like marking things. Just to have them marked. So. Last post pre-quarter-centenarian.

I feel like I should say something important, but I got nothin'.

Hm...

Well...

Huh...

Oh, well, there's the fact that I really like St. Rita's out here. I went there again yesterday, and it's just nice. I don't know what it is about it, exactly, but it feels comfortable there. I just like it. And I think (although I'm not sure, I'm just speculating) that they use two ushers at the distribution of the Eucharist to stand on either side of the two main sections to watch the people as they're walking back to their pews after receiving, to make sure that they consume the Host instead of, well, not consuming the Host. I can think of no other reason why two ushers would go up there and receive and then just go stand next to the pillars on either side of the church. Anyway. If I'm correct, then that makes me really happy. I mean, at St. Bernadette's I occasionally noticed Monsignor Smith having to leave the line to go chase down someone who hadn't consumed, and it was awkward. Didn't happen a lot, of course, but once in awhile. I really like that he would do that, though, because it's important. But it's also nice that they have ushers whose job it is to make sure the priest doesn't have to do that. Also, I really like the church. I very much dislike that there is such a deplorable lack of pretty churches in Colorado Springs. There is an abundance out here, which is lovely. And then back home, it seems like they were all built in the 1970s and 80s which wasn't a particularly...high point in Catholic church architecture...and it's quite sad.

Oh well. I'll just enjoy it here while I can.

I'm feeling better about being able to go home when I'm done. I still have no idea what'll happen, but I no longer feel like God's going to keep me away from there just because I want to be back there. I feel more a sense of peace about going back. For some reason, for the last year I've just been feeling guilty, somehow, for wanting to go back when I'm done. Maybe it's the fact that most people here are from closer places and thus there's not the same sense of utter separation, so it's not as big a deal to them to be so far, or to consider not necessarily going back home. I'm sick of it, though. I've had six years of it, and that's plenty for me. And hopefully God agrees with that, and will give me something good back there. What, I don't know. But something. Anything. Just to be back in my beautiful state. Come October (and the freeing-up of six hours of class a week, plus multiple hours of reading per week), I'll start getting serious about fixing up my resume (which I'm pretty sure is really terrible, and needs to be updated anyway), and emailing people to beg them to hire me next year, and sending in applications to places. It's difficult because it's a bit of an awkward time situation, since obviously I can't start until after May, and if someone is hiring now they're not going to want to wait that long, so who knows. But putting my name out there can't hurt, right?

What else...I've been thinking about 9/11 a lot the past couple of days (obviously). It's interesting; I noticed myself much more favorably disposed toward people in general today. Like, driving in traffic, when someone made a stupid move I didn't necessarily think about how angry stupid drivers makes me, I thought about the fact that we're all here, in this city, together, whether we want to be or not, and we're all just part of the same group. We may disagree with each other about everything, but we're still here together. And sometimes, maybe most of the time, it takes an enormous tragedy like 9/11 to make us realize that we're not going through this life alone, that we belong to the same group in the big scheme of things. But whether or not we realize it, we are. We go on with our regular lives most of the time, completely separate from each other, insulated by ourselves in our cars, but for whatever reason, we're here together. I don't know. I guess it's not any sort of big revelation. But it's been interesting for me to think about. You know, like, the one day it's really hit me. In conclusion: yay fellow city-dwellers! You all get points in my book. (And everyone else does, too. I just tend to find it particularly difficult to be positive toward a majority of people here, for whatever reason.)

Speaking of my birthday, I am facebook friends with three other people who share my birthday - a guy I knew in high school, a girl I was friends with in college (who lived right down the hall freshman year...I think...actually, I don't remember exactly where she lived. But it was in my dorm, and it was nearish my room, and we met early on in our college lives. And have the same birthday. What are the odds), and a girl I met last year through the young adult group back home (who also went to ND, actually, but I didn't know her there). It's kinda interesting. And I know a number of people born on Sept 12, and some on Sept 19. There are just a ton of September birthdays. (Including Our Lady, Mary!) But, when you think about it, it's not too surprising. It gets cold in December/January. And, you know, lots of people just get in that...holiday spirit. Hahaha. Plus, you know, September is just an awesome month. With a lovely birthstone.

Have I mentioned that I've been able to look back at the summer with some semi-positive feelings? Despite the disappointment at being stuck here for most of it, I got to have some good experiences. I touristed around DC a couple times, which I enjoyed and would very much like to do again (I do really like the monuments and things. They're just so cool! And I still have to go inside the Capitol Building). I got to go to Colonial Williamsburg and Yorktown. I got to visit family up in New Jersey. I got to watch an awesome fireworks show from the Lincoln Memorial. I got to spend a couple great weeks in Colorado. I got to see some of the historical stuff of Philadelphia. And, you know, I had a job, so that was nice. Not saying I'd like to stay out here another summer, but I'm glad I got to have some good DC/East Coast experiences for my (God-willing) one DC summer.

And on that note, we'll end this, since I have nothing good to say.

Onto tomorrow, and 25. Quarter century. (And still all alone...) (Sorry, I had to say it. Unfortunately seems to be the defining characteristic of my life right now.) (And all I can do is sit here.) (And read about how awesome marriage is for most of my classes.) (Not to mention being surrounded by people who are married, or are getting married. Or having babies.) (But whatever.)

9/11

I remember when I first heard anything had happened. One of my classmates walked into my 2nd period history class, saying there was a fire or an explosion or something at the World Trade Center and something about how it might be a terrorist or something. Now, at this point, I barely knew what the Trade Center was, and I wasn't too bothered by the news because somehow I figured it wasn't that bad. But by third period chemistry, people whose teachers had let them watch the news in earlier classes informed the rest of us just what was going on - including the fact that the towers had both collapsed while we were sitting in second period. And yet, my teacher still wanted us to have class as normal. Fourth period English, I think the principal got on the PA system and said something about how we should all just go on with classes. I don't think anyone really paid attention to classes, though. To this day, I think they did us a disservice in trying to get us to pretend that our world hadn't just changed.

I had lunch after that, and my mom called me to tell me she was picking me up on her way home from work. Driving through the streets, it was so eerie. The middle of the day, and barely anyone was out. And of course there was no sound of planes overhead by that point either. The rest of the day was spent glued to the TV, watching replays of everything that had happened, trying along with everyone else to understand how something like this could have happened. That night, I remember hearing planes flying. Most places, airplanes were grounded. Colorado Springs, though, is the home of NORAD and several Air Force bases, so there were a handful of planes flying in the area. And it was weird to hear them.

Thousands of miles away, and yet it was all so much a part of everyone. I remember one of my friends the next day asking me why I was so down and depressed. I looked at her for a minute wondering if she was serious, and then answered that I was sad because our country had been attacked; 3,000 people had been killed. She said something about how someone she knew had a dad who was one of the pilots of one of the hijacked planes, and that she (the girl) had a reason to be sad. I just couldn't understand how anyone could have experienced that day and not be sad, whether knowing one of those killed or not. I'll admit that 9/11 didn't affect me personally nearly as much as it did thousands of others who lost family members, friends, coworkers, who were in the buildings trying to help or who were there afterward, trying to dig anything they could out of the rubble. I was in Colorado Springs, and nowhere near any of the crash sites. I can still go on with my life as usual, those I know still intact around me, and can remember and be sad about that day from a more detached view. I drive by the Pentagon nearly every day, and though I often think about 9/11 even if just for a minute, I can continue on with my day, thinking about everything else, sometimes feeling more like a spectator of it than someone who "lived through" it. But that doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. Our world changed that day. I think about the kids who have been born since it happened, who will never know life pre-9/11. I can't ever really express it in words, but I have a feeling that most people sort of know what I'm talking about, maybe. It's just one of those things.

Today, I watched something 9/11-related that someone posted, which led me to other things (including 9/11 as it happened). One of them highlighted how none of us really know what it was like to be in the towers that morning. The people on the upper floors of the towers who had no way of escape, who endured heat that got up to the hundreds (thousands?) of degrees, and smoke so bad they couldn't take a breath. Knowing there was nothing to do but wait to die, or hope that through some miracle someone came along to save them. My mind can't fathom what it was like to be in the towers as they collapsed - for those at the top, did they die more or less instantly, or did some survive somehow for a longer period of time? I can't really understand how it happened so that there were so few remains left. Morbid, I know, but...what must it have been like to cause that? I don't think about it often, obviously, but sometimes - especially on the anniversary, where 9/11 memorials are the top story - I can't help but let my mind wander to what those who died must have gone through in their last moments. Those on the plane, who knew something was wrong. Those on the floors above, who knew they were doomed - including/especially those who jumped, just to escape the heat and the smoke. Those who ran into the buildings to save as many as they could, maybe knowing that they might not survive. I hope they all have peace now, and especially their families. I've been praying a lot for them today. Nine years later, most of us are able to go along with our lives without really being much impacted by 9/11. Those who lost someone that day have a daily reminder that won't ever go away. Nine years seems like a long time to establish and get used to a new kind of life, but that doesn't mean that nine years dims the pain or the memory or the love.

Last night, I was watching the first episode of American Dreams, a TV show I loved back in high school that barely lasted three seasons. It's set in Philadelphia in 1963, and at the end of the first episode, it's the day President Kennedy was shot and killed. Now, obviously I have no real personal experience with that event in history, but that part of the episode always makes me tear up. And I'm not one typically to cry at all during TV shows or movies. But there's something about the emotion of that day, imagining what that must have been like. A whole nation, brought together by one tragic event. Today is a good day to remember that we're all Americans. It's also a good day for me to realize that God has truly blessed me, and for me to be thankful for all that I have. There but by the grace of God go I, and all that. None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. I know I'm lucky that I can experience the sadness of 9/11 as an American, and not as a survivor who lost someone that day.

Anyway. Enough of that. May the souls of the faithful departed, by the mercy of God, rest in peace. And may those who have lived without someone dear to them for the last nine years find peace and strength in God.



And this: Lessons of 9/11.

Seven Quick Takes Volume XVI

1. Guys, this week. It's kicking my butt. Having Monday off was lovely. But I've paid for it the rest of the week. Tons of classes, working when I'm not in class, commuting, trying to get myself psyched up to read the insane amounts of reading I have to do once I get home...man. And trying to get to sleep early enough that I can get up and do it all again the next day? That's almost asking too much. But, this too shall pass. As I've mentioned. I kind of can't believe just quite how exhausted I am - spiritually, physically (although, sadly, not physically in the sense of exercising, because it's hard to fit that into the schedule some days), mentally. I'm just drained. And it's only the second week of school.

2. But, good news, I got to see my oldest friend yesterday. (Oldest as in longest. Obviously.) We met shortly after my family had moved to Colorado, when I was three. We were best friends for many years, but I haven't seen her in ten years. She and her husband are up here for the week visiting people, and they made time to see me. Unfortunately we had to do it between my classes, so they just came up to CUA, but it was still so lovely to see her again. So, yay for that.

3. Last night, my roommate's cat killed a bug. Not too big a deal, but the funny thing is, this bug was obviously on the wall approximately 5.5 feet off the ground when she killed it. How do we know? Because we heard her and could tell she was jumping to get something, and when we went to investigate, we saw it there on the ground, and we saw a little streak of bug guts on the wall. Conclusion: her cat can get some major air. I've seen her do it before, but it's still hard for me to believe just how high she can jump. Crazy kitty.

4. I think, since moving to DC, I've baked twice. Maybe three times. And tonight was one of those times. I made chocolate chip pumpkin bread, and I just pulled it out of the oven a little while ago. So delicious, if I do say so myself. Mmm. Might not be as good tomorrow when it's not so moist and warm-from-the-oven, but hopefully it'll hold up ok. I made some for our school's fall picnic we're having tomorrow, and the rest to bring over to my friends' house where a bunch of us are watching the ND-Michigan game. At least two of us there actually went to ND, others there will probably root for ND, and one of the guys in the house is a Michigan fan. With whom I watched the ND-Michigan game last year. That heartbreaker of a game. And he was quite the jerk about it, so I'm hoping I get to reciprocate this year (except, I won't, because I'm a nice person like that).

5. Did I mention school's kicking my butt? Sheesh. I need to get lots of reading done this weekend, but of course I won't, because that's how I am. Oh well. What needs to get done, will get done.

6. Because the weather is finally - finally! - cooling down, with today only in the 70s at its hottest, and I needed to work out (although I much preferred the idea of a nap) but the idea of a boring 35 minutes in that teeny workroom was not appealing to me at all, I decided to go run in the park near our apartment where my roommate goes to run. And it was nice. I really miss running outside, but I'm such a baby with humidity. It's finally better now, though. So that's good.

7. I found out today, like an hour ago, that Michael Buble is doing a concert in DC on November 30. Which means...a performer I've wanted to go to for years (one of the three, the other two being Josh Groban and Celtic Woman) is having a concert in the city where I reside at the same time when I'll be residing there. (I've had several instances of one of those three performers doing a show somewhere near South Bend when I was going to be in Colorado for a break or something, or them performing in Denver when I was in South Bend, and something like that might also have happened sometime this year too. Oh, and Celtic Woman is playing at Red Rocks this weekend. Sigh.) Aaaanyway. I'm sure tickets will be super expensive, but how awesome would it be to go? So awesome, that's how awesome.

The end.