Sniffles Predominating

Sniffles are a thing of the past

2009-07-08T08:50:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not a person who tries to start new blogs all the time. I've had one for several years, and another one for about a year. However, Sniffles Predominating has ceased to be an appropriate name. In my life these days, sniffles do not predominate -- I am filled with smiles, because I am no longer lonely, but happily sharing my life with my new husband.

In fact, I think it is wrong overall, regardless of my state in life, to focus on the sniffles. G. K. Chesterton said, "It is wrong to look a gift universe in the mouth." Therefore, I will be blogging henceforth at A Gift Universe. It's been a great year with you, my Constant Readers, and I hope you will rejoin me over there to hear what rambles come to the mind of the new Mrs. C. -- a person whom you will find is not much different from the Miss J. who used to blog here.

Marriage and the State

2009-06-16T15:14:00.000-07:00

John and I went to get the marriage license yesterday. It cost us a hundred bucks. That is what my dress cost. I am filled with righteous indignation.

My indignation grew when I heard that the priest told us that he would go to jail if he married us without a license. That just made no sense to me. Why couldn't he perform a quiet, religious ceremony without the state getting involved? Sure, we wouldn't get a tax break, and we wouldn't have a marriage certificate to show anyone, but why is it that two people can't make a religious commitment without paying Uncle Sam $100?

Of course, it's not just money. In the state of Washington, a 3-day waiting period is required before getting married. Since the state was involved anyway, I guess they felt that while they were at it, they might as well insert their own provisions. The idea is to reduce the divorce rate. But the question is still, who gave them the right?

The fourth thing (if you were counting) that bothers me is this. I'll be watching a movie, and there will be a wedding. The minister says, "By the power vested in me by the State of California ..." What? The State of California? The State of California has the authority to proclaim people man and wife, or not? No wonder there's a fuss about defining marriage. The state thinks it has the authority to do so. But people were marrying and giving in marriage long before the State of California set up shop.

Nowadays, people shack up all the time. They are in no way distinguishable from a married couple, except by their lack of a license. (I would say they lack the lifetime commitment, but so do the married people, too, much of the time.) I say, why can't they have a lifetime commitment without the license while they're at it? Why can't they go by their local church, synagogue, or hippie guru and proclaim their lifetime commitment? Why in the world is it against the law for them to do this? Maybe they don't want the state to bother with them. What about that scenario is so terrible?

What about this notion. Everyone gets married with their churches or religious groups or whatever. If they have no religion, they get up among their friends and profess their commitment. They can get a friend to act as minister, if they like -- people often do. Then, if they want to get a legal marriage license, they go into a courthouse or before a clerk and sign a document that says they wish to form a legally binding partnership. Most people would probably do this. But that way, they can do it before or after the wedding, whenever they like. And it wouldn't be the state's authority to marry people, just to recognize and give certain legal benefits to their union, and later to moderate their disagreements, if they should divorce. But if people were content with a religious arrangement only, I see no reason at all why they should not be allowed to do so.

All right, that's my soapbox speech for today. In other news, I'm getting married in ten days. I'm staying with my future in-laws and just as busy as I can be. Between Wii Golf, gardening (and getting burned), and watching the cows, the days are just packed. The hard part is to carve out time on the computer. There are a lot of Connollys. But I will try to post at least once more before the wedding.

Thoughts on the threshold

2009-05-31T14:34:00.000-07:00

It is less than a month until the wedding, and I feel what the "Conscious Weddings" website describes as "feelings of liminality." Limen is the Latin word for threshold: liminality is the feeling of being at the threshold between two stages of life. That definitely describes me right now. I am moving out on Wednesday, to go to Philadelphia to observe classes at the schools where I interviewed, and then to Wisconsin to put together last-minute plans.

I came to this apartment about eleven months ago. It was completely empty except for Olivia's bookshelf and my three suitcases. In eleven months, we turned it into a home. My photograph of the Shenandoah on the wall, the picture of a tiger I picked up at a curb giveaway, the Wal-Mart accent lamp. Olivia's table a friend gave her, her dishes, our stacks of books. I think of the meals I fed people in this apartment, of the sound of the train when it goes by at midnight, of the leaves that gathered on the porch in the fall.

I leave this apartment as I came to it: in solitude. I arrived here on a July night, late, driven by the airport shuttle. I got the key from the mailbox and let myself in, to find there were no lights except in the kitchen and bathroom. I sat on my suitcase and felt I had started new life. That overwhelming feeling of changes that enveloped me then is returning to me now.

Once again I am alone here: Olivia is gone for the week, though her possessions remain, to temper the emptiness left where my things used to be. I will leave early in the morning, before I would usually be awake, and walk with my two suitcases to the train station. Like I came, I will leave alone, with no one to see me off, as there was no one to welcome me.

Oddly enough, I like that. There is a huge emotion that comes to me when I begin or end a stage of my life. Another presence distracts from it, keeps it from being painful, certainly, but also keeps it from being acknowledged and accepted the way I need to do. When my life is changing, I don't like to be shuffled from one thing to another, to be conversed with and distracted from my thoughts. I like to have a moment of silence.

These few days, as I finish my grading, go to graduation, say my goodbyes, are that moment of silence. Like I did at the beginning, I wake up when I am not tired; I eat when I am hungry; I walk where I need to go. I am self-reliant.

Perhaps I treasure this self-reliance all the more because I know it is the last time. Soon, I will be a married woman, with someone else to answer to. I won't be quite so able to arrange things at my whim. I won't be alone anymore.

I have never been a person who craves solitude as much as company. I like people; I don't like being alone too much. But there are always moments when I need it; when, as a child, I climbed my holly tree to leave the busy world beneath me; or when, in high school, I would wander out to the farthest end of the driveway to pray my rosary where I could look at the sea. Even now, I always like to be the last to go to bed, so that I can settle my thoughts and feelings with myself before I go to sleep.

I ask myself, will I miss this? How will I find the time for this in my new life?

My comfort is that, though I depart alone, I will not arrive alone. I leave here on my own power; I arrive there with someone to catch me. First, the friends in Philadelphia, then my future in-laws when I go to Wisconsin, then --

After that, wherever I go, I will not be alone. I hesitate now on the threshold with my thoughts. But when the time comes, I will be lifted over it. My days of utter self-reliance are over, but a new era is beginning, one where I am received with love, where I am protected, where I have a place and a mission. Nothing is going to be the same, but it will, God willing, be better. I welcome the threshold and embrace it, for I cross over it into a new and wonderful adventure.

Seen on Catholic Answers Forums

2009-05-05T20:20:00.000-07:00

"Oh, I agree entirely with the essential social skills development thingie. Fortunately, we have found a way our son can receive the same socialization that government schools provide.

*On Mondays and Wednesdays, I will personally corner my son in the bathroom, give him a wedgie and take his lunch money.

*On Tuesdays and Thursdays, my wife will make sure to tease him for not being in the “in” crowd, taking special care to poke fun at any physical abnormalities.

*Fridays will be “Fad and Peer Pressure Day.” We will all compete to see who has the coolest toys, most expensive clothes and the loudest, fastest and most dangerous car.

*Every day, my wife and I will adhere to a routine of cursing and swearing in the hall and mentioning our weekend exploits with alcohol and immorality.

*If our son attempts to use the bathroom without permission, we will punish him immediately.

*And we have asked him to report us to the authorities in the event we mention faith, religion, or try to bring up morals and values."

Found here. Apparently it's originally from Kolbe Little Home Journal, Fall 2005.

Lately I've been doing research to find out if it is humanly possible to homeschool in Pennsylvania without going bats dealing with the draconian laws. Anyone know?

Why Twilight scares me

2009-04-30T13:27:00.000-07:00

Or, at least, part of the reason. Mostly I hate it because it's unrealistic and badly written. Then I hate it because vampires are a traditional symbol of lust, and I don't think that symbolism has really been purged out of their depiction in Twilight. After that, there are all of the very good reasons in this article.

http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=MTE4OTNmNzcxNDAzMTI3MTk5MWFkZTllNDQzZmZlNDA

And after that, there is the fact that the 13-year-old girls in my classes are reading them, and picking up some highly inappropriate ideas -- including some pretty darn weird ideas about sex and relationships. Maybe adults would be able to see past this and make judgments about it, but the age group that is reading these books definitely should not be.

Chicken Soup

2009-04-22T16:43:00.000-07:00

I have been ill the past few days; let that be my latest non-blogging excuse. But as a consolation prize, I'm posting two recipes for chicken soup; one my old specialty, and one I discovered yesterday while trying to cure myself of pharyngitis. (It worked! or else the antibiotics did. I have made a speedy recovery.)

First, the discovery.

Mexican Chicken Soup, to be made while sick

Chicken on the bone
Black beans
Rice
Corn
Salt
Cumin
Other Mexican spices
Tabasco
A slice of lime

On the way home from the pharmacy, buy a package of chicken thighs, or really any chicken so long as the bones are included. Also buy limes, if you can find them at 2 for 88 cents.

You've had beans soaking since yesterday, so put them on the simmer. Put the chicken in a big pot of water and boil it. Then you're supposed to skim it, which is hard when the boiling bubbles are all over the place and the steam is in your face. However, this is called the "steam cure" and is probably good for you. Turn down the heat and simmer the chicken for about a million years. Meanwhile the kitchen will smell really lovely, and you'll be starved. Leave it to boil while you go back to bed.

When you wake up, really only maybe four hours later, everything will be more or less ready. Scoop the chicken out of the broth, de-fat the broth (this one was very hard to do in the hungry hurry I was in. I am afraid it was not well de-fatted until I de-fatted the leftovers this morning), take the chicken off the bones, and put it back in the broth, shredded into pieces.

Scoop out about three cups of the chicken soup and put it in a small pot. Then open up the bean pot and discover that the beans are just right. Put maybe a half cup of them in the soup. Pull out some frozen corn and stick it in, maybe a quarter cup. If you have cooked brown rice, put that in too, though I am sure white would be good too. Then add some salt, some cumin (part of your bridal shower gift) and some strange Mexican seasoning you picked up about a month ago. I suspect chili powder would be a good substitution for that. Add a dash of Tabasco if you like it. If you found the cheap limes, take a slice and squeeze it into the soup, and then drop the slice into the bottom of your bowl. Pour the soup in, and garnish with sour cream. Yum! The peak of health should return after 24 hours.

Next, the classic. This has been my specialty since I was about 16 or 17, and I used to make it for my mom when she was pregnant with John Paul. It is excellent as an after-school snack, because it feels warm, cozy, and filling (which one's sandwich at school was not), but does not spoil your appetite for dinner. It also can lick the stuffing out of any cold, especially any throat or sinus cold.

Avgolemeno Soup

3 cups chicken broth
1/4 cup cooked rice
2 tablespoons lemon juice or white wine
dill

Heat 3 cups chicken broth. For this soup, I would usually just use boullion cubes, but "real" works too, provided it is well salted. Add 1/4 rice, or a little more. You can add cooked rice, or cook the rice in your broth (though you will have to add more broth to account for the amount the rice will absorb).

Once the broth is at the simmer, get a container you can pour out of. A pyrex measuring cup, the kind that has measurements up the side and a pouring spout, which you can use in the microwave, is ideal. Crack into the container two eggs, and add 1-2 tablespoons lemon juice, white wine, or half of each. (Half of each is best, but I don't often have white wine.) Mix together with a fork until it's a uniform color. Dip a little of the chicken broth out of the pot and add to the eggs -- this warms them up a little.

Then comes the tricky part. Pour the egg mixture very slowly into the broth, stirring all the while and pausing in your pouring periodically. You want the eggs to disappear into your broth, turn it opaque, and give you little egg shreds here and there -- not a big, visible "egg flower" like you have in a hot and sour soup.

Pouring the egg in will have disrupted your simmer. That's okay, you can turn the heat down now. If you want to make sure the eggs get all the way cooked, you can leave it on for a moment longer, but I find they tend to cook sufficiently even if you turn the heat right off at this point. Now take some dill and shake it over the surface of the soup. Ladle the soup into bowls or cups. Big mugs are ideal. Serves 2 hungry people or 3 ordinary people.

Spring pictures

2009-04-05T19:27:00.000-07:00

Time to upload a few more pictures!

Sunset over the school.

Daffodils in the rain.

Sunset over 66.

This and the next few are at Manassas Battlefield Park.

Some pictures of the cherry blossoms near the school.

Trying to keep up

2009-04-03T19:07:00.000-07:00

It's hard to be a fiancee, a teacher, and a blogger at the same time. Other identities that slip through the cracks include good roommate, daughter that calls home more than once a week, faithful correspondent, writer, poet, photographer, student, reader for pleasure, music listener, and person decent to be around in the morning. I am just so busy!

And when I'm not busy, I'm still often a little stressed. Who wouldn't be? Today I left work smiling, in the realization that since my grades were in, I would not even have to think about school till Monday unless I wanted to. Two hours later, about two minutes after John and Claire walked in the door, a parent called. Why is her son failing? I am not really sure except that he is. I do know that the deadline for making up work has passed, so I don't feel too inclined even to talk about it. However, a concerned parent is a concerned parent, so I spent fifteen of the thirty minutes I had with John (before he headed off to his conference in DC) on the phone.

When I am not busy or stressed, I am sometimes lonely. Being engaged means that I want to be with John. Being in Virginia means that I am not generally able to be. Now I am aware that there are other people in the world. However, most people my age are single, it seems -- at least the ones I know, the other teachers and the parish people. As such, they are interested in other singles, and would like to associate with other singles in the hopes of ending their singleness. As a result, my roommate is always being invited to things, whereas I am often overlooked.

I don't exactly blame them -- after all, when they do invite me, I run home early so I can get my grading done, or sew a few stitches on my wedding veil, or call John, or any number of a million things I spend my time doing. And I don't really feel I'm missing that much -- I am not exactly close to any of these people, and I am not quite sure they know how to have a good time. To me, a good time involves lounging on the couch at Sean and Andrew's place and hearing John and the other guys discuss politics and pterodactyls. It can also involve bonfires and singing. Or wandering through the woods with a camera and a friend or two. It does not generally involve small talk, bars, or concerts.

So far, this email sounds very negative. In fact, I don't feel negative, at least not at the moment. I feel glad because John will be back from his conference soon, and we'll probably get together with our other friends and have something I would call a good time. I also feel glad because I can feel the time counting down toward a time that, hopefully, will make a lot more sense. Then, the same person I want to be with will be the person I am with. I will get to start putting a life together with the person I want to spend it with. We can arrange things to suit ourselves, instead of trying to fight our way through all the limitations that plague us like cellphone minutes and gas prices.

In the more immediate future, spring break, which I desperately need, is starting next Thursday. I am going home! For the last time, at least in one sense -- because the next time I go there, it arguably will not be "home," but "my parents' house." My "family" will be John and me, and my "home" will be a tiny little apartment in north Philly. All very strange, and will probably take some getting used to.

I am looking forward to seeing my family, especially the little ones who grow so fast and change so much. I also will get to see my maid of honor, whom I miss. In addition to being The Ideal Roommate (the kind everyone searches for and does not find), she is a good friend. She's going to be throwing a shower for me, and another day we plan to get together and do a wedding dress fitting. Both of those will be big events for sure. Mostly, though, I'm looking forward to catching up. It is such a shame that all my wonderful Christendom friends are scattered all over the place. At least at the wedding, most of us will get a chance to see each other.

After Easter, there are only about five weeks left of school. Five weeks is not a long time. In fact, it is way too little time to cover the different infinitives, indirect discourse, ablative absolute, and the subjunctive in Latin II. I'll do my best. But then the year will be over, and I will get a little break. The plan is to stay out here for the first week of June, and then head to Wisconsin sometime soon after that, to do wedding-ish stuff and spend time with my future sisters-in-law. Two of them are going to be going to the convent soon, so I have to catch my time with them while I can.

And after that? Why, at that point, it will be three weeks till the wedding! I imagine they will pass the slowest of any three weeks ever, but I know the day will be here before we know it!

Wedding Counter

2009-03-31T18:47:00.000-07:00

It's too wide to fit on my sidebar, unfortunately ...

Wedding Countdowns

Invitations

2009-03-03T10:14:00.000-08:00

I am almost done with the invitations. Just a couple more whose addresses I need to get or verify.

Doing the invitations has been my favorite part of wedding planning so far. It's not stressful like some of the other parts -- instead it's methodical and relaxing.

As I write the addresses, I think about each person. Here are my cousins -- I wonder if they will make it. I think about the good times we have and the closeness I've had with them all my life. I hope we will stay close after I'm married, even though I'll be living far away. Now here is some of John's family. I trace their unfamiliar address, spell out the name of their hometown. I don't know these people, and yet I'm filled with wonder as I reflect that they will soon be my family too. I hope they come to the wedding, so that I will get to meet them soon.

I used to be a little afraid of having so many strangers at the wedding. Now I've realized that once I'm married, these people won't be strangers anymore. They will be friends and family by extension; people I don't know yet, but who are bound to me already. The wedding reception will be a chance for me to gaze over my newfound wealth -- a treasure in each friend of his who becomes a friend of mine -- of ours.

Some of the people I sent invitations to, I know won't come. But I want them to know they were welcome and wanted. My dream wedding would have been close to everyone, no more than a few minutes' drive for everyone we cared about. But it could not be, and I know the closest some people will come to our wedding is looking over the invitation. At least they get to be that close.

Writing those invitations just reminded me of how much I love these people -- those I have met and those I haven't, those who will be there and those who won't. This has just been the beginning of something the wedding will be the fullness of -- seeing all those whom we love and who love us gathered around for the greatest change of our lives.

Interesting article, and a little update

2009-02-06T20:54:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know it is disappointing when you have pretty much given up on the idea that someone will ever update her blog, and then they appear only to post a link and disappear again. But it is 11:54 as I begin, and I know there is no time for a long blog post.

So, here's the link. It's a very true critique of the "feminist ideal" that shuns commitment and family, from someone who tried it and didn't like it.

As far as my life goes (really quickly!), I'm doing pretty well. I am extremely busy most of the time, between work and trying to plan this wedding -- with really no idea what I'm doing here. The current hurdles are looking for a wedding cake and a florist. The cake is being funded by John's very generous aunt, but I am supposed to pick something out. I have no idea what I want; I only know that most of the pictures I see are not it. For flowers, I do know what I want, but don't know anything about florists or how much I can expect to pay for a couple lilies, some white filler, and a bunch of ivy. I could make the bouquets myself, but with the shipping, wholesale is actually more expensive rather than less, as far as I can see.

Meanwhile I have been whipping all my classes into shape and teaching them a lot -- except for eighth period. I don't know why what works with the other classes doesn't work for them. They simply have no fear, no respect, and no limits.

Also, we've been working on honeymoon plans. We've decided not to go to Ireland after all; it is simply too expensive, and flights did not go down that much. But I have been having some really wonderful ideas about what we could afford. Something isolated, surrounded by nature ... which is always my favorite, whatever other wonderful things are available. I must say the idea of honeymoon resorts with spas and heartshaped Jacuzzis and white beaches has never really appealed to me. No, give me some deep woods, any day. Or stretches of ocean cliffs. Or towering mountains in the background. Or all three ...

Mostly I'm just frantically getting things done because there is not enough time before the wedding, and then counting down the days on the calendar because there is way too much time before the wedding. I just want to get my new life started already!

English majors gone crazy

2009-01-06T13:29:00.000-08:00

This is so me.

http://cuddly-cyb.org/comics/24.php

In other news, my mom got me a sweatshirt for Christmas. It read,
"I am the Grammarian about whom your mother warned you."

It makes me feel so happy inside.

White (and spotted) Christmas

2008-12-24T12:22:00.000-08:00

This year's Christmas is my last one before I get married. That lends everything an air of even-more-than-usual significance, as I wonder when I will next be among my family at Christmastime.

However, this Christmas has so far refused to cooperate with the sentimentalism I'm attaching to it. It will be a white Christmas for sure -- the first one in my memory (here, I mean) since I was five. When I woke up this morning it was snowing hard, but I wasn't surprised: we have been pretty much snowed in since last Wednesday. My dad has managed to make it out for church, to pick me up from the airport, and to get groceries, but now the roads look even worse. Apparently the Department of Transportation refuses to salt the roads because it is bad for the environment, and they are using rubber-edged plows so as not to damage the roads, but these pack the snow rather than scooping it away. Downtown, police officers are covering their beat on foot, because of the very real danger that they will slide down the steep hills and into the bay.

I always wanted a white Christmas as a child, but the state of the roads never occurred to me. This year, there is no way we could get to midnight Mass like I wanted to, and I am only hoping that daytime Mass won't be impossible too. Getting a Christmas tree, something that my mom has finally agreed to without any fuss, is also not going to happen.

The other trouble of the snow is that we have not been able to get Joseph to the doctor. He was recovering from an ear infection when suddenly he got a fever again -- and spots. The most likely diagnosis is the measles, though we are not sure. On the phone, the doctor said there was no point in trying to get to her office, since there's not much you can do for a virus. All we can do is try to keep the germs away from the baby -- a mammoth task. Luckily we older ones are either vaccinated or have had the measles. But all the younger four are still at risk.

>sigh< Yes, this will definitely be a Christmas to remember. But don't think I'm complaining. I remember some of our nicest Christmases involving unexpected problems. There was the Christmas we couldn't afford a Christmas tree, and put all our presents under a potted plant. And the year the roads were icy, and we had to leave our car at the bottom of the hill, with the Christmas tree tied on top, while we walked home. The year I was at boarding school for Christmas, coming home for only three days once Christmas was over -- and during those three days Joseph was born. And other holidays too -- like the Thanksgiving I had the flu and got some unexpected bonding time with my dad when we both stayed home from the feast and watched football together. My seventeenth birthday, when my brother and I got lost downtown trying to get to my party, and it was 100 degrees inside our non-air-conditioned car, but we played the Kitaro album and made up fantasy stories to go with the songs.

No, I can see that a few years from now, we'll pull out the pictures of Joseph looking like a leopard and us decorating the windows and the banisters, and we will smile, saying, "Wasn't that a Christmas to remember?"

Christmas Lights in Old Town

2008-12-18T14:54:00.000-08:00

This little walk I took to take a few pictures in Old Town (well, all right, it was an hour-long walk, and I took about 75 pictures) was a wonderful stress-reliever. I needed it, between the end-of-quarter stress at school and the I'm-getting-married-in-just-over-six-months stress in the rest of my life. I'm this weird mix of busy, anxious, and excited that leaves me pacing around the apartment, ignoring all my responsibilities, and then suddenly grading twelve book reports and doing all the dishes.

Here are the fruits of my photo-op.

The view down Center Street. Yes, I did have to stand in the middle of the street to take the picture. But it was quite safe.

I have always loved it when people do trees like this, with shining trunks and a web of lights in their almost invisible branches.

City Hall. I have photographed this building dozens of times now, with several different sunsets. It stands out well against them -- and also without them, as you see.

Okay, here's the beginning of my clock obsession. Prepare for many more clocks. I am not sure why I like clocks so much. Perhaps it is because they are so very round and white. Perhaps it is because every picture you take of them is of a slightly different scene, because they move. But there is just something that makes the street with the lights completely different from the street with the lights and a clock.

This one is special because it has not only a clock, but also a flag unfurling in the light wind that was going by. There's something about knowing that a moment before or after would have been a different picture.

"One luminary clock against the sky"

The same clock from the other side, near the pavilion where there's an ice skating rink.

I love this picture. I had to take many to get it right. Maybe it's the circle within the square that does it. Or maybe it's the light shining out of it -- like the moon. I just don't know, but I like this clock.

The train station, all decked out. With the ubiquitous water tower. I do not understand why this town needs so many water towers. In my regular walks to the grocery store or Old Town, I see three water towers without traveling a single mile.

These are two pictures I've been trying to get for a long time. Don't the gates rising and falling look like fans? And the red light lines are dotted, because the lights were blinking. Again, maybe I like these pictures more because of the effort it took to get them. There's a lot of waiting for trains it takes to get even one take of the picture -- and then you find the shutter speed wasn't slow enough, or the aperture was too big, and you have to wait for the next train. Or you just finally get lucky when you're photographing the train station -- which is what finally happened, after all those times running outside when I heard the train whistles.

This one was intended to be symbolic. Doesn't it look like the lighted trees are there to decorate the Nativity scene? Actually, they are reflected from City Hall, across the street. I don't know if City Hall put up their trees because of Baby Jesus. But it doesn't matter what they intended -- there they are, all the same.

Recent pictures

2008-12-15T15:27:00.000-08:00

More pictures: these from around my house, plus two from the airport when I was going home for Thanksgiving.

Autumn

2008-12-15T14:50:00.000-08:00

Here are some pictures I took this past fall. This batch is from the day I went down to Christendom for Homecoming, and ended wandering around by the Shenandoah, looking for good pictures to take. I think I found a few! (I actually took over a hundred. But these are the best.)

I had to shrink them down a good bit to reduce their file size. The original pictures were very clear and vivid. I am so grateful to my grandpa for the camera that lets me take pictures like this. I am getting more and more into photography these days.

Ideas so far

2008-12-10T21:08:00.000-08:00

I know a lot of people think obsessing over wedding dresses is silly. If you do, skip this post! Some people have asked, so I thought I'd post the ideas so far.

My maid-of-honor is going to be helping me sew the dress. Actually, she's doing all the work. I am "helping" in an "advisory" sense, i.e. making all the decisions. Somehow she is generous enough to be okay with this.

So, she and I have been pattern hunting, and here's the best of what we've turned up so far. Nothing's decided yet, but here's what we're thinking.

The dress: like the picture on the left, only --

with the sleeves from this dress . They will be out of a sheer fabric like in the picture, only not blue of course.

The veil. This one I am really sold on. I really like the drop veil style. The front part is pulled back over the head later on, and it's held on with a (presumably quite secure) hat pin. I am undecided as to whether a tiara would help or hinder that staying-on process, and also whether it would look good.

Thoughts? All right, girly conversation over. Anyone who's been scrolling quickly by with lots of eye-rolling can come back now.

Engagement story

2008-11-20T15:33:00.000-08:00

I promised a long time ago that I would put up the story of how I got engaged. I'm sorry I haven't done it before, but life has been extremely hectic lately, with a lot of grades coming due, and me being sick. But here it is -- with pictures.

It happened on a Friday when nothing else was going on -- October 17th. John had been talking a few weeks before about coming down that weekend, but he seemed to have changed his mind, so I was feeling a little down. The night before, I had it firmly in my head that he would come after all, but by the time I was at work, I realized I was mostly getting my hopes up for nothing. He was not going to come, and now I would be all disappointed.

During 7th period, I saw I had missed a call from him, so as soon as school was over, I called him back. "Where are you?" he asked. "At school, cleaning the classroom," I answered. "Well, then, call me back when you're home; there's something I want to talk to you about," he said.

So I finished up the classroom and headed toward home. As I was walking out by the front of the school, I saw John sitting there near the parking lot, along with a bunch of kids who were waiting to get picked up. He just looked up and said, "Hi."

He walked along with me toward my house as far as the parking lot, but then started steering me toward his car. "Where are we going?" I asked. "On a picnic," he said.

It was a beautiful drive off to the park he had picked out. The fall colors were everywhere. After a short while we got to the park and got out of the van. He pulled out of the back of the van a picnic basket and his book bag. I took the bag, to free up his hands to carry the basket. He started laughing to himself, but when I asked why, he said it was nothing. (I found out later it was because the ring was in there, and he was laughing at the thought that I was carrying it and didn't know.)

We wandered off along the trails, passing some school kids and a little pond. Then we found a picnic site and got set up. He had everything in that basket: a loaf of bread, a jar of pickles, a tomato, some cheese, some tuna, a knife to cut the tomato, paper plates, napkins -- everything. When John does a picnic, I guess he wants to do it thoroughly. I like that. The sandwiches were great (John does something special with sandwiches -- I think it is because of the fresh ingredients). Then we put the basket aside and decided to continue walking for awhile.

Eventually we came to a clearing by a creek. This whole way I was just babbling about this and that -- the relative merits of Justin Hayward as compared to the other Moody Blues, and my day at school. He was mostly quiet, a little distracted. But when we got to the creek, he sat down on a log beside me. He started to talk a little about this and that, about our relationship and so forth. I thought, "Oh, he's not so distracted anymore; that's good."

Then he said, "I have a question." He had said this a few times along the way, with a few different questions he'd wanted to know the answers to, so I didn't think much of it. Then he slipped off the log and onto one knee. "Will you marry me?" was the question.

John says that at this point my mouth dropped wide open and my eyes got really big. (Actually, he did a pretty funny impression -- I wonder if I really looked like that.) Gathering my breath and picking up my jaw, I said, "Yes, I will," and then started hugging him and laughing and everything like that. At that moment, I do not think I could have been happier. He was happy too. At that point, a train went by on the tracks across the creek, and I waved at the train like I used to as a kid. I thought, "All those people are riding home from work; they don't know that we're going to get married!" Around then, I remembered that I was holding the box John had put into my hand when he had asked the question. "Can I open it?" I asked, feeling like a little kid with a Christmas present. It was beautiful -- very John, but also very me. Not like any old person's ring -- our ring.

After awhile we walked up from the creek, talking about plans and how we felt and things like that. Periodically I would give a little jump and a shiver, thinking, "Wow! We're going to get married!" John would laugh at me, saying it was unhealthy to be that excited. But I didn't care.

When we got up the hill a ways (where cell reception was better) we started calling people. My own parents weren't home. His mom was thrilled and was very welcoming to me. When we got to the picnic basket, we picked it up and took it to the car. As we were putting it back into the back of the van, John pulled out one last thing -- a bouquet of roses. The ride back seemed even more beautiful than the ride out had been. We passed a church -- St. Clare, my confirmation saint -- and tried to get in to make a visit, but it was all locked. So I made a little visit from outside.

Once we got back home, we bumped into Olivia talking to one of the other teachers in the parking lot. She saw John and the roses, and her eyes got big, because she knew how much I had wanted him to come down, but didn't know he was going to do it. I couldn't help myself -- I held up the ring. She squealed and made a lot of surprised exclamations before running off to buy champagne. John and I went inside, leaving the front door open and standing talking in the kitchen. A moment later the screen door swung open and in walked a priest -- Fr. Thompson. "Heard someone in here needs a blessing," he said. So John and I knelt down and got a blessing. Fr. Thompson left again after chatting for a little bit, calling over his shoulder, "I'll do your pre-Cana, if you want!" He has been looking for people to do marriage prep with.

A minute after that, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find some of my students -- ninth-grade girls. Fr. Thompson had sent them to ask what was going on. I told them, and they squealed and hugged me. (For about a week after that, I was all the girls' favorite teacher, and they wanted to hear every detail.) Then they went away, and Olivia came back with two bottles of champagne and a cake.

We called up Sean and Andrew, who showed up quickly, and Olivia made chili. Sean had brought another bottle of champagne, which was the only one we got into that evening. The rest of the evening was spent in my favorite way -- food and companionship with friends. Olivia took a lot of pictures. During the evening, I kept calling people and being called by others. John's sisters all had to congratulate me, and I finally was able to get ahold of my parents, who were happy for me. I even got to talk to David! I had them put the phone on speaker so I could talk to Joseph (they were all in the car, and could reach the phone all the way to the back seat). "I want to marry John, what do you think?" I asked. He answered, "Actually, I would really like you to."

So -- pictures of our evening:

Zoo Day

2008-09-24T13:27:00.001-07:00

These are some pictures I just remembered I had from our zoo trip in August. A bunch of my friends in the area got together and went to the zoo in Washington, DC.

Matt and Chris imitating a statue labeled "Interdependence," or something like that.

Hanging out outside of Cold Stone Creamery, where we stopped after seeing the elephants and everything.

I was behind the camera for this one. We have Betsy, Matt, Syd 'n' Sean, and Andrew.

Pictures

2008-09-24T13:12:00.000-07:00

Life as a teacher is so terribly busy! When I'm not teaching, preparing, or grading, I'm chaperoning a dance or planning a club activity. And on the off-chance I'm not doing any of those things, I'm probably at a school volleyball game or being coaxed into going to the Legion of Mary by the other teachers. (I decided Legion of Mary is not going to be something I'm going to do right now ... I just don't have that kind of time.)

I did have time to take a few pictures, though, so I'm just going to post those in lieu of the longer post I would be writing if interim reports weren't due Monday. I have to figure out a grade for every single one of my students, plus any other things their parents should know. I have a lot of students ... something like 120, if you consider a student I have for two classes as equivalent to two students.

Anyway, here are the pictures.

Our house. The door in front is our apartment; I'm rather pleased that the other three apartments have their doors in back. That way it looks like we own the whole house!

A tree in the vacant lot across the street. I had thought at first the area was a park, but it's not, even though it has a Civil War memorial sign in front of it (these signs are scattered all over town). But it might as well be a park, because it's such a nice bit of grass and trees.

Sunset. I love the sunsets from here. We have to go out of the house and around the side to see them, but they are always lovely. The water tower is a good landmark for navigation, but it also makes a nice silhouette against the sky.

This picture, of a car going around the corner and across the railroad tracks by our house, is the result of some time spent trying to figure out how to slow down the shutter speed. I think it worked really well! I have dozens of pictures like this; I think slow night photography is really awesome.

I made it

2008-09-02T19:14:00.000-07:00

So, this is it: I made it to my first paycheck. There were times I really didn't think that was going to happen.

Of course, I could not by any means have managed that without help. My family who let me sit around in the house like a lazy bum for two months after graduation ... all the people who gave me graduation gifts (I'd mention particulars, but for fear of embarrassing anyone .... but everyone shocked me with their generosity!) ... the office lady who handed down beds and a chair ... the friends of friends who dropped off a table ... the people at school who told me that whenever I could pay the rent was fine with them ... yes, I've been living very much on the generosity of others. I don't know how anyone starts off after college without the kind of support network that I have.

At any rate, I have groceries in the cupboard and a balance in the bank account, and that makes me happy. But it makes me happier to know that I have dear friends and family I can count on when I don't have those things. I love you all.

The First Week

2008-08-30T12:39:00.000-07:00

So, my first week of teaching is behind me. I'm still wet behind the ears, but I finally count as a real teacher now -- one who has a class of my own dependent on me. Or actually five classes.

The first day was terrifying. My classes seemed so huge, the periods so long, the students so unruly. I thought I would never be able to manage this. The schedule of my day is like this ---

1st period--Latin II. 12 students.
2nd period--Grammar 9. 25 students.
3rd period--Latin 1. 26 students.
4th period--Study Hall. 12 bored students.
5th period--my only free period.
6th period--lunch. All the seventh and eighth grade boys, along with another teacher.
7th period--Latin II. 12 students.
8th period--Grammar 9. 27 students.

At three I reel on home with sore feet and a sore throat.

But by the second day, I was already beginning to get acclimated. I developed clever seating charts separating people by gender, attention level, attitude problems, etc. These were immeasurably helpful -- I would not have even known my classes. The kids who had been most unruly the day before simply sat in the front row and sulked because they weren't near their friends. And they paid attention!

The other thing I did was give them work to do. I honestly can't spend my whole day on my feet, talking. And they can't spend the whole period listening to me do it. So, they have in-class assignments, they correct their homework, and they aren't bored.

The other teachers have been extremely supportive. They feel it their duty to take us newbies under their wings and tell us it'll get better. Also to refer to me as "the sacrificial lamb for Grammar 9" and to gasp when I tell them I have 27 9th graders for 8th period. Apparently (well, so the students say), someone quit over Grammar 9 once. I do know that everyone who had it one year requested something else the next year. And, as they did their time, it's my turn.

I don't know, though. So far it's not so bad. Ninth graders are admittedly fuller of beans than eighth graders. But they're not terrible. They're just silly. They need to be given serious work, information to learn, and plenty to keep them busy -- but they also need smiles and laughter. They need to know I don't condemn them for being ninth graders. And I don't.

My disciplinary philosophy is: in actions, as strict as necessary. In attitude, as positive as possible. So, I won't let them talk in class, and I make my study halls actually study (horrors!). But I will say, cheerfully, "Nope, sorry, it's study time!" I try not to get angry. I hope I can keep this up.

And that's that, so far. I have all sorts of plans for my classes, things they'll do. I hope I can keep up with it all. But time will tell!

Short Update

2008-08-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

Well, Olivia, my dear roommate, has finally moved in. She showed up Thursday and it's been good times ever since. She brought lamps, a computer that got along with the internet connection, and measuring cups, but the real blessing has been her company. She's an easy person to get along with, and it's just great to have someone else around! It was getting just terribly lonely.

The next day, John showed up. He was covering a story in DC for his paper, and so he got to spend the weekend with the crowd here in town. Sydney was hard to get together with, because of her schedule at the hospital where she works, but pretty much everyone else swarmed in now that there was some fun going on. I cooked a number of meals (I'm discovering I just love cooking for company!) and we saw a movie and went bowling. Tonight the guys (Sean, John, and Andrew) had their first recording session for a podcast they're planning. It's just been one fun thing after another--which I really needed after so much quiet and solitude!

To add onto the good things going on, we're now the proud owners of a table. It's a pretty simple one, but it has leaves to expand (so we seated six people easily) and is just a good place to sit and work on things. This was given us by Olivia's mom's friend's parents. (Isn't it great to have connections?) We got some nice stackable chairs at Goodwill for $1.50 each.

And for a final wrap-up to the other good times, my dear auntie came to visit yesterday. She's in town for a conference and was able to make it out here and meet some of my strange & lovable friends. I think she also took pictures .... ;)

In other news, my last Latin tutoring student has "graduated," so there's not much to do except a few faculty meetings until school starts a week from Wednesday. Maybe I'd better plan a few more lessons before things get really hectic.

The Spirit of Radio

2008-08-07T09:34:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know that's the title of a Rush song. I like the song, and I would agree with it that the major downside of radio is the ads. But I actually just borrowed the title to talk about what I think about the radio.

I started listening to the radio the other day just for something to do. It was too quiet and I was tired of every note of music I own. So I fiddled with the dial and listened to pretty much everything that was on. Since then I've found a station I can live with, mostly, and let it rattle at me much of the evening.

Several years ago, I stopped listening to the radio because I didn't see the point. Full of ads and needless yammering from the hosts, when I just wanted to listen to music. Furthermore, they only played stuff I like less than half the time. Why shouldn't I just listen to my own music, which I know I enjoy?

I realized the other day that my feelings about the radio were largely based on my circumstances. Living at home, most of my life wasn't under my control. I had to interact with other people and make decisions based on what the family was doing. My music I wanted on my own terms. Familiar music I owned myself was perfect--something exclusively mine, which I could choose. I didn't want to listen to strangers talking at me, because my family talked to me plenty.

Now, living (for the present) alone, I suddenly can see why people would want to listen to the radio. Right now, my schedule is almost completely under my control. I have about three hours of tutoring to do a day. The rest of the day I arrange however I like. I make my own dinner, based on what I happen to feel like at the moment. I have the choice to read, or write, or take a nap--it makes no difference to anyone but me.

So, oddly enough, I find myself craving what I never used to--a world that is out of my control. I remember hearing in a theology class that the amazing thing about human relationships is that the other human being is completely independent of oneself. You can have a conversation with someone else who may say anything, things you haven't thought of before. We pay for this with a lack of free choice. We can't guarantee we're going to like whatever comes out of our friend's mouth. But that makes it so much more exciting when we do. A human companion is an unknown factor, which can go along with our ideas or sharply counter to them. The interplay of two people is so complex that an infinite number of good novels, each with a different plot, could be written with only two characters.

In my situation, then, I guess the ideal solution is to find another human being to interact with me. But Olivia's not arriving till the 14th. My next best choice is the radio. It leaves an element of uncertainty in my life which I'd been needing. Maybe it will play something I like, and maybe it'll just have a huge block of boring ads. But maybe--just maybe--it will play some song I've never heard but will love. Maybe it will play something that makes me laugh or cry. When I pull up one of my favorite songs on my computer, it's just a song. I hear it all the time, and since I have it on call all the time, it's not special. But the other day I turned on the radio and "Don't Stop Believing" was just beginning. I own that song. I listen to it all the time, whenever I want. Yet when I heard it on the radio, I was all excited. I didn't even think to want that song, and there it was beyond all expectations. A surprise, instead of just the same old song. It made all the difference.

Another time I was just sitting around, feeling idle, when a song I'd never heard came on. It was called "Hey There Delilah" and it made me cry. A song I've never heard can surprise me, prod my emotions in a way a similar song on my own computer can never do.

The DJ's and talk show hosts can be on the corny side, and they have a rather excessive obsession with giving away free concert tickets, but I'm still grateful to them. They say things I wasn't thinking of before, give me something to think of that didn't come from myself.

Life is best when I go off to the laundromat and exchange smiles across the langauge barrier with the immigrants using the washer next to mine, or trot off to the coffee shop (where I'm getting to know all the baristas and they know me) to say, thoughtfully, that I think I'm in the mood for iced tea and they accidentally give me iced coffee, or my mom calls me up just as I'm resigning myself to an empty evening, or a friend suddenly appears outside my living-room window after dinner, making me jump. All of these things are exciting, uncertain--that exchange with someone which can go in any direction. Even the accidental iced coffee is a thrill. It's a chance for me to cheer up the poor barista that gave it to me by smiling and saying we all make mistakes. It's a chance for me to enjoy the iced tea when I get it.

But when I'm not doing these things, the radio is good to have around. It teaches me that I don't own the world. I don't even want to own my little apartment. I want to share the airwaves with a stranger, even if a stranger from a hundred miles away in a soundproof booth.

Take a walk outside yourself
In some exotic land
Greet a passing stranger
Feel the strength in his hand
Feel the world expand ....
(Rush)

Updates

2008-08-03T10:14:00.000-07:00

Life has just been rolling along, fast as ever. But it's been bringing a lot of improvements for me. The nice office lady at school gave me two beds, a chair, and a coffee table, so when my dear roommate arrives, I'll be ready for her! The generosity and kindness of these people never ceases to amaze me.

John returned my visit this weekend, along with two of his coworkers who wanted to see D.C. We also went down to Christendom and talked to people I'd been missing, so that was just wonderful. We all had a really good time, but of course now that they're gone the solitude seems even sharper.

I've been polishing and tinkering with my book, and finally decided I'd done all I could with no feedback. So I sent it to the people who agreed to help me with it, and am hoping fervently they like it ... I'm in a tizzy right now, thinking about it.

I went to the parish here for the first time today (last week, of course, I went in Philly). The building is supremely ugly, but the people seemed nice enough. I didn't know a soul, though. However, I believe I saw someone I knew leaving as I was coming, so I think maybe I should try the nine a.m. Mass instead of the 10:30. That would also keep my half hour walk to church from being quite so hot.

Going to Mass on my own is a mixed blessing. It's nice to be less distracted, but seeing all those families together and not having mine there gives me a pang. I always assumed I wouldn't mind these things as much as I do. I've been away from home so many times before, but never quite as thoroughly on my own. It makes a difference.

That's all that's going on right now. I found out Olivia isn't coming till the 15th. I sure will be looking forward to seeing her. Until then, I'm just tutoring away, waiting for school to start and the hot weather to let up a little.

Philadelphia

2008-07-29T14:34:00.000-07:00

So I went to Philadelphia this weekend. That involved a lot of organizing, and up to the day before I was still not sure it was going to happen. There was the VRE train, the Metro, the Greyhound, and a ride from a friend that all needed to be arranged. Not to mention lodgings with someone I've never met ... a fellow intern of John's. She ended up being quite nice, luckily!

The trip was kind of a whirlwind, because I didn't have a lot of time to be up there before I had to come back, but I did get some pictures.

My first clear sight of Philly from the bus.

City Hall. I'm not positive, but I think it's Penn on the top.

Me in front of City Hall, sitting on a giant checkers piece. The hat is from John--it has the name of his paper on it.

View from Kate's place -- a highrise dorm at U Penn. You can see this big cemetery in the foreground, and the Schuylkill River in the background. (John tells me it is pronounced Skookle. Who knew. The internet tells me it is Dutch for "hidden river.")

City lights at night. I took tons of pictures of them, on every setting my camera had, and it was quite interesting to see how differently they turned out.

It was a good trip, but there was a lot I didn't get a chance to do. Getting together with Dr. T., for instance--there just wasn't time. I also didn't see the Liberty Bell. So I'll have to go again sometime. Till then, I'll be content with the interesting parts of the city I did see.

Moved in

2008-07-24T16:53:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I'm here finally. I've actually been here for a few days, but blogging seemed low on the priority list after getting groceries, cooking food, overcoming jetlag (not much is open at 4 a.m., unfortunately) and finding something to sit on. That last is an ongoing process, but I have high hopes. Right now my dresser and my couch are both the same thing, a suitcase filled with (neatly folded) clothes. My weight keeps them well ironed -- sort of -- as I sit on them.

I like my little town. I like it a lot. I could live here forever ... if everyone I loved lived here too. I wish you all did. I have a church just kitty-corner from me. Sean tells me it used to be a Catholic church, but the parish outgrew the building and is now about a mile away. That's a real shame--I would love to be able to walk across the street and go make a visit.

I also have the railroad track passing right by. This might sound like a bad thing, but I actually really like trains. I haven't quite gotten past the stage of running to the window sometimes when I hear the train whistles, and watching the little gate go down and the train come roaring and rattling down the track. Luckily they don't blow their whistles at night. So far a train has only woken me up once. Last night I unconsciously took the bells at the crossing for my alarm clock.

I like cooking for myself, though it is time-consuming. I didn't want to just live on Hamburger Helper or something--I wanted real, if inexpensive, food. That's led me to create some weird dishes out of my few ingredients. It also makes me quite eager to walk out to the grocery store again and get myself some salt and maybe some other seasonings.

And I'm liking the tutoring: such sweet kids.

Okay, they're closing the coffee shop. So long and I hope to post you some pictures soon.

Seen in a coffee shop...

2008-07-24T16:52:00.000-07:00

"Notice: Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy."

Leaving home ....

2008-07-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

It's strange. A week ago, I was very melancholy, thinking how sad it will be to leave my home. Today, I'm excited. I think about arriving in my new apartment and I'm just thrilled. I guess I just needed time to mourn what I'm leaving before I could look forward to the future.

Life will be pretty different out there. I'll be responsible for so many things, from paying my own water bill to teaching kids Latin. Dealing with my students' parents may be a challenge. I know summer tutoring is sure to be difficult--trying to rehash the whole year's work in four weeks. I'll be reliant on walking and buses to get everywhere--maybe I'll get more in shape.

I really look forward to having my own place. Sure, I'll be sharing it with my wonderful roommate, but it'll be more mine than anywhere else I've lived. We'll decorate it how we like, make our own food, potter around and keep it clean. Yes, I even look forward to cleaning it!

I also have a lot of friends out there. Who knows how often I'll get to see them, but I'm sure at least every once in awhile I'll be able to have them over for dinner or something. And I will be closer to John out there, though still three hours away. Hopefully I'll get to see him from time to time.

I have all kinds of resolutions to start when I get out there. I'm going to go to bed and get up earlier--much easier when I don't have to wait for everyone to go to bed for the house to get quiet. I'm going to get more exercise--in fact, this one I won't be able to help, as I'll have to walk just to get to the grocery store. I'm not going to eat so much junk food--again, easy, as I can't afford to waste money on stuff that's not good for me.

All I can do is pack up the rest of my stuff and ask for your prayers. I'm taking flight, and I hope I soar.

I Can Get Anywhere Without a Car

2008-07-15T17:20:00.000-07:00

The above statement has been my motto, as I plan to singlehandedly solve the gas crisis and save a bundle on car insurance all at once. This coming year, I don't intend to own a car. I'm moving out and I will live in an apartment close to my work. Everything I really need is nearby. And there is public transportation out there, of a fashion.

But my confidence was a little bit shaken this past Friday when I came home from Wenatchee, across the mountains, by bus. The plan was to take a bus--which I had originally thought was a train, because it was on the Amtrak website--to Seattle, and then another bus half an hour after we arrived that would get me to Maple Valley. I must point out that there are only two buses from Seattle to Maple Valley: at five-ten and five-thirty. Since the bus was scheduled to come in at 4:30, I didn't have any worries.

I left my grandparents' cabin at 10:30, and got to the bus station before noon. The bus left at 12:50--only twenty minutes late. The bus was completely full, and there was no air-conditioning. The people around me were all complaining about how late the bus was and how hot it was. But I didn't see any reason to gripe: it was about what I expected out of a bus like that (not a Greyhound bus, but a similar company).

Across the aisle from me was a couple who had just hitchhiked from Acapulco. They were from Vancouver and had decided it was time to go home. Unfortunately, the part of their trip that was supposed to be easy and predictable had been full of snags. The bus they had been supposed to take the previous night (and had had tickets for) had been full, so they had slept in the bus station and finally gotten on this bus that morning. Out of food and money, they were starving and ended up being fed carrots and Cheetos by other people on the bus.

But I didn't worry too much. The bus wasn't that late, and I figured it would pick up time as we went. After all, it takes 2 1/2 hours to cross the mountains, and the trip was scheduled to take 4. Of course, I didn't account for the fact that half the trip across the mountains is uphill. It was an old bus, and it slowed to almost walking pace climbing those hills. We reached Everett too late to get my hitchhiking friends on their connection. It was probably Saturday before they ever got to Vancouver.

The drive from Everett to Seattle was the worst. Starting out, we were only a half-hour behind. The bus driver grumbled, "Why is there so much traffic?" It was obvious to me: it was four o'clock on 405. Enough said. There is always rush-hour traffic on that road, and on Fridays rush hour starts at noon.

More people were let off at a "Greyhound Station" I hadn't known existed--I had made my plans from the Amtrak station, so I didn't dare get off there. I probably should have, though: the Amtrak station was some distance away, and the traffic was barely moving. At this point I moved up to the front and chatted with the driver--there were only about five people left on the bus. The driver couldn't understand why there was always so much traffic in Seattle. It seemed he was used to it, and accustomed to the fact that he was always an hour late.

While I was at the Greyhound station, my dad called from the bus I was supposed to catch. "The bus is leaving now," he said. "Are you going to make it?" I did not make it. But there was still the 5:30 bus.

We arrived at the Amtrak at 5:20. I had ten minutes. My instructions were to go a short distance north to find the bus stop. But I didn't count on the fact that the road above was about a story higher than the level of the parking lot. "It's easy," said the bus driver. "Go into the train station and take the stairs."

It is not a very big train station, so I was surprised the stairs weren't readily obvious. I finally found them behind a set of glass doors bearing the sign "Stairs Closed." Dragging my rolling suitcase and lugging my heavy laptop case, I hurried out of the building, out on the lower street, and took the steep hill up to the higher street. (Seattle, for those who don't know, is not on a level. At all.)

I came panting up to the road and discovered it was 3rd. The intersection I needed was 3rd and King. I didn't see the name of the cross street, but I saw a bus stop. I paused to look at it, but there was no sign of my bus, the 143. "Maybe it's a block further," I thought, when I saw the 143 heading exactly my way. I stood expectantly, waiting for it to stop--and it breezed right by in a hot gust of exhaust.

While I was on the phone with my dad again, near tears, I glanced up and saw the road sign: 3rd and Jackson. "The 143 stops one block down," the commuters standing around commented helpfully. But the next time it would stop there was tomorrow morning--or maybe even Monday.

My dad said I should take the 101 to Renton, and he would pick me up from there. "I think you have to take that from the bus tunnel," he said.

"Where's the bus tunnel?" I asked.

"You want the International District station," he said. "Either that or the Pioneer Square station."

Idiotically, I answered, "Okay," and hung up. In my defense, I had just seen a sign labelled "International District" and thought it might have something for me. It didn't. I trudged on a little further to the next bus stop. The sun was boiling hot, and my laptop case strap cut into my shoulder as my rolling suitcase bounced on the in the sidewalk.

I found a 101 stop. With a symbol next to it, attached to a note that said "From five to seven, stops in the bus tunnel." But where was that pesky tunnel? I only knew one entrance to it, in a different part of the city, but what I did know is that they are not always marked. Again I turned to a nice-looking commuter. "Excuse me, sir." He eyed me uneasily. Maybe he thought I was trying to ask him for money.

He was relieved when I only asked for directions, and pointed me north. He was pretty sure it was that way. I went a block or so when I ran into a cop, and thought I could get further directions from him. He, however, pointed me in the opposite direction. I trudged back the way I had come, passed the nice direction-giving commuter, and took the turn (uphill) the cop had suggested.

No sign of a bus tunnel. I walked further and further, block after block, uphill and down again, passing creepy guys in doorways and pouring out sweat. I passed a beautiful park, and saw signs for Pioneer Square. I had come up a whole stop from where I had started. Finally, at my wits' end, I decided to stop somewhere, get inside for a minute to rest, maybe get some directions. A Starbucks looked promising--but it was closed. Finally, I ducked into a flower shop. The middle-aged proprietors told me there was a tunnel entrance on the side of their own building. I was afraid of walking right by it again, so the gentleman walked right outside with me, pointing out the pink railing on the side of the building. There were stairs there, and I walked down thankfully.

After some observation of signs, I discovered a number of things. First, I had walked by at least three entrances to the bus tunnel, one of which was actually inside the Amtrak station. That would have been useful to know. Second, I found my bus, and which way it would go. Thirdly, and most comforting of all, I discovered that the fare was actually equal to the amount of money in my wallet. I had been worrying all afternoon that I was a quarter shy.

The bus was crammed to the gills, the aisles full of standing people. But at the sight of my suitcase and my weary face, a man gave me his seat. After a long ride, I finally saw my dad at the Renton Transit Center, and he drove me the rest of the way home. It was about 7:30. The whole usually two-and-a-half hour trip had taken eight hours in total.

However, I am undaunted. That, and I still can't afford a car. So I will remain a public transportation user, but keeping this in mind. You can only get anywhere without it a car if you:

1. Don't care how long it takes. It has to not matter how late you are. And you have to be sure enough of this that you don't get stressed out when you're late.

2. You have to keep enough change to pay for all the transfers.

3. Keep smiling. Every time you're delayed, think of how much money you're saving, and how maybe if you try hard enough, gas prices will go down. (*snort*) Hey, you never know.

Happy to be here

2008-07-06T15:16:00.000-07:00

This week, I'm at my grandparents' house in Eastern Washington. It's absolutely beautiful here ... I have always loved the desert hills. I'll be very sad to leave here and go back to the East Coast, where the beauties are tamer.

Last bits of sunlight touch the hills on the Fourth of July.

At the airport, looking at the ridge.

My grandpa took me soaring--flying on an unpowered glider--and it was lovely. The view was terrific, but we didn't get a lot of lift and so didn't go very far.

The Columbia River and Rocky Reach Dam. It's hard to get an untilted picture in a tilted plane. Even my unsuccessful efforts made me a little queasy.

We weren't the only ones soaring today. Two other gliders were trying the same air we were, and having about the same success. Apparently the haze was blocking some of the sun's heat, so thermals weren't forming the way we needed them to.

We may go to the lake later in the week, and if we do, I'll try to get some good pictures from that too. I'm just drinking in all the beauty, so it can tide me over when I'm living in the city in a flat area. There's a part of my soul that lives off mountains and wildness, and it certainly will miss this place.

Writing Progress

2008-06-20T11:42:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, I've been trying to write a novel lately. It's a bit of a job: I'm used to writing short things, but it's hard to sustain a story for the full length of a novel. I've set my goal for 80,000 words, and that is a pretty big task.

At any rate, this is just a pride and patting-myself-on-the-back post: I passed the halfway mark yesterday. The plot is a little further along than halfway; I will probably have to add some material in the beginning. But still, I feel a sense of achievement.

The story is aimed toward Catholic young adu.lts--a rather small audience, but one that is really under-represented in books. I've had some encouragement to actually buckle down and write this thing, so I started it last fall and hope to finish it before this Christmas--hopefully by early fall, if possible. I'm hoping--hoping very hard--it can be published. Even if not, it will be an achievement and it was fun to do, but I want it to get out and be read.

So, prayers are always welcome. I'd better get back to work!

I desire mercy, not sacrifice

2008-06-14T14:21:00.000-07:00

Last week's readings really got me thinking about a trend among Catholics today. Most Catholics nowadays do not have the problem I'm talking about. Within the more liberal sections of the Church, people tend to ignore rather that overrate the importance of sacrifice. But in the most conservative circles, perfection in liturgy or the advertising of a "Catholic way of life" which emphasizes public piety takes preference over values like mercy and charity.

What am I talking about, exactly? I'm talking about parishes with an absolutely flawless liturgy (whether "Extraordinary Form" or Novus Ordo) and no apostolic action--no Legion of Mary, no soup kitchens, nothing. They feel that the effort they pour into their liturgy excuses them from other Catholic activities.

I also have a problem with Catholic colleges that advertise the perfect Catholic atmosphere and yet are missing the most important Catholic virtue--charity. The most "pious" on campus feel they have a reason to look down on the others, to avoid them, for fear they will be "contaminated" with the less perfect attitude of those who don't go to daily Mass or who drink on the weekends. And the administration is so concerned with projecting a perfect image for outsiders that it is more likely to cover up problems than to fix them, if fixing them might hurt the public image. I'm not talking here about my own college specifically; I think this is a widespread problem, although of course there are movements counter to it in Catholic colleges as well.

To discuss the readings that got me thinking about this. The first reading was from Hosea, with the line "I desire mercy, and not sacrifice." The psalm helps to explain what God means by this:

“If I were hungry, I would not tell you,
for mine are the world and its fullness.
Do I eat the flesh of strong bulls,
or is the of goats my drink?”

God does not need sacrifice. Those who are too concerned about the liturgy think that they are perhaps doing God a favor by giving Him a perfectly-performed Mass. Of course, when we put it in those terms, the absurdity of the viewpoint seems obvious. God asks us to put effort into worshipping Him for our own good, not for His. Although I'm the first to say that putting that effort into the liturgy is important, unless this helps us focus on God more and to act more like the kind of people He wants us to be, we're wasting our time. The Pharisees got in trouble for just this kind of hypocrisy. They thought if their piety was perfect, they were good to go. Christ actually was harsher on them than on the ones who didn't pray at all. Why? Because they were misusing the worship intended for God, making it simply a way to make themselves look better than others. The best things, corrupted, become the worst.

The Gospel was the call of Matthew. Christ befriended a tax collector, and these pious hypocrites objected. As always, those who think they're the closest to God are the first to criticise Him when He starts doing things they disapprove of. They think they know everything there is to know about God, so they're terribly offended when all of a sudden He does things they don't understand.

I wish some of our modern-day Pharisees could understand the saying, "Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do." In other words, the most impressively holy parishes, colleges, and organizations should be serving the greatest of sinners. Instead, see how quickly they abandon someone when they fail to live up to the code of virtue. I have recently found out that students of Catholic colleges who become pregnant are often expelled. Meanwhile, it's public colleges who earn praise from pro-life organizations for being welcoming to pregnant students. They realize that those who have fallen into sin once are fragile: they need to be treated with mercy and compassion to encourage them to come back to the flock, not with the rejection that might lead them to further sins, like abortion. It would be ironic to think that Catholic colleges encourage abortion, but it is not impossible that a frightened, pregnant student might take that path rather than face expulsion when discovered.

All in all, I'm frustrated. Even those who seem the best seem to have their hidden faults, so much so that one looks for communities with obvious imperfections--that way we know we won't be surprised. In the end, I would like to see prayer and piety united with a real interior life, mercy, and charity.

“Offer to God praise as your sacrifice
and fulfill your vows to the Most High;
Then call upon me in time of distress;
I will rescue you, and you shall glorify me.”

On being 22

2008-06-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

Today I turn 22 years old. It's the oldest I've ever been. ;)

22 seems a more steady age than 21. At 21, the main milestone is that you can drink. At 22, you're likely to be graduating from college (although, of course, I myself graduated last month). A 22-year-old is someone who's starting out with "real life." He still seems like a kid, with little experience with how life works, at the bottom of the totem pole in whatever job he has. But he is not on the totem pole. He isn't still in school, living in what some would deem a prolongation of childhood. He's fighting the battle of life, even though he's a newcomer to the battle.

At any rate, that's how I see myself. Many people suggested I go on and get a master's degree after graduating. But I just couldn't see myself staying in school that long. I felt I'd been receiving long enough: it was time to find how I could give back. Learning is great, but there is a place for doing as well. I hope learning never ends, especially with a job in education. But I wanted to start passing on what I know as soon as I can.

This birthday, though not a particular milestone, has been very nice. John, my extremely awesome boyfriend, traveled all the way from Virginia to surprise me with a visit to my family. I think that might be the best present I've ever received, even though he couldn't be here for my actual birthday. His journalism internship in Philadelphia starts today, so he left on Friday to travel there.

Also, some of my other close friends were able to come to a small party on Tuesday. It was great fun, playing games and talking to people I have known for years. It's good to catch up.

I hope this year is a good one. I sure will do what I can to make sure it is!

Commencement Pictures

2008-05-14T17:13:00.001-07:00

Here are all the pictures I have so far. It's just the ones from my dad's camera and one from the school website. Hopefully I'll get more, but who knows. It sure felt like I posed with a lot of different people at the time.

Getting my diploma from Dr. O'Donnell. I guess anyone who wasn't there will want to know it was summa cum laude. But I feel like I have to mention around 15% of the class got the same. I'm mostly proud of the fact that I graduated with a life as well as a diploma. There were moments I didn't think that was possible.

Joseph was so proud of me. I was just happy to see him again.

My dad got camera-happy with John and the little kids. So it's no surprise I've got tons of pictures with them, and don't seem to have any with my parents. I know some were taken, but I have no idea by whom.

The boys wanted to graduate too.

Looks like John was getting a little tired of the photo-op. Juliana and the Little Pope seem to be having a good time though.

It's over...

2008-05-12T06:43:00.000-07:00

Four years of my life are past and now I'm graduated. I really thought I'd be happier about that. The future is bright and there's no reason for me to regret anything. But still, it's sad. I've been wandering around an empty campus all morning (I don't leave till tomorrow) and missing everyone who's left already. Some of them I'll never see again. Maybe this would be easier if I hadn't made so many friends, but I can hardly regret knowing so many wonderful people. It's just always so hard to say goodbye.

At least I'll be back in the area soon when I start teaching. I don't know how many of my friends I will see out here, or how often, but I know I will see some of them. Luckily a lot of my friends are in the DC area, for now at least.

Once I'm back home, I'll try to get some graduation pictures up.

Life Changes

2008-04-28T15:47:00.000-07:00

A lot has been happening, which is my excuse for not posting. But it means I have a lot of news to post now!

1. I finished and turned in my senior thesis. It was about the Arthur legend and I actually really enjoyed writing it. There's a lot you can learn about literature just from the different versions of this one legend.

2. I cut my hair. I think I got about 12 inches off. Now my hair is shoulder-length and layered. I'll try and put a picture up later.

3. I'm graduating in less than two weeks! My last class day is tomorrow; then it's just finals and commencement.

4. I got a job! Today I signed my contract with the school I've been student teaching at. I will be teaching three sections of Latin (probably two of Latin I and one of Latin II) and two sections of ninth grade grammar. I'm really excited because it's a wonderful school and I've wanted to teach since tenth grade. I hope I do well at it! I think so . . . I had fun student teaching, and I think my class enjoyed it too.

5. I'm looking for something to do over the summer. There is a girl who was hoping to live with me, and I would hate to turn her down (it would save so much money if we can live together), but if I don't get a summer job, I just can't do it. I have applied for a tutoring job, but I have not heard back. In any event, I can always go home and come back in mid-July or August to start preparing for my school year.

That's all the news for now ... thanks everyone who was praying for my job seach! The principal told me someone must have been praying, because my position just opened up last week. I know many people have been praying for me very hard. Thank you.

Spring Formal

2008-04-08T12:42:00.001-07:00

Here are some pictures of Spring Formal. Grandpa's camera was amazing--the pictures turned out so clear!

Outside my dorm, ready to go.

John took our group out to an Irish restaurant before the dance.

The light in this picture is kind of bad, but I think it's a nice effect all the same. The dance was at a country club near the college. We arrived early and took pictures while we were waiting for the fun to start.

Ladies in red: Sarah, me, and Claire.

Joseph's birthday trip

2008-04-02T16:45:00.000-07:00

I finally uploaded all the pictures off my new camera. These are from Christmas break, when I took Joseph out to the history museum. It was a small museum, so we took a walk afterwards and got some nice pictures.

At the skate park (it used to be a pool when I was his age):

By the baseball field:

By the river:

I miss my bubba ... *sniff*

Prayers

2008-03-18T13:21:00.000-07:00

Dear all,

Please pray for me. I've lost something very important and don't have a lot of time left to find it .... so if anyone has a great relationship with Saint Anthony, please give him a buzz for me.

Thanks!

The Sign of Peace

2008-03-16T16:58:00.000-07:00

I found this great article about the Sign of Peace today. I really find that this part of the Mass can be distracting. The exploration of its history really helped.

Juno

2008-03-06T12:42:00.000-08:00

I saw the movie Juno last weekend. I really really liked it. Like Bella, which I also enjoyed, it seems more than most movies to talk about real life. In Bella, the city is not a glitzy place full of high-powered professionals, but a place full of dirt and graffiti and noisy kitchens. That way, when there's beauty found there, it doesn't seem fake--it's real beauty, in a place that looks like our own places.

Juno has that same feel to it. Juno's house isn't a suburban paradise with white carpets. It's an older house full of clutter, with overflowing window boxes and roughly cut grass. Juno doesn't dress in perfect trendy style; she's kind of off-beat and wears her own thing. She isn't popular. Her parents are divorced and don't understand her. She's more like you and me.

Some people I know will probably criticize this movie because of the language and crass humor. Personally, I thought that was part of the whole "reality" thing--that the movie wouldn't have been as real if Juno had said "fudge" when she was in labor instead of what she did say. It's part of the point of the movie that it covers nothing over. No one ever pretends it is easy to carry a baby to term in high school. Instead they go into gruesome detail about the physical suffering Juno goes through and the teasing she endures from people at school.

Another important thing about the movie is that it doesn't preach. The parts where the biggest moral issues are decided are a little ambiguous, so it takes a little thinking to see what the real tipping points for the characters are, why they made their decisions. But you see how they feel when they're making these decisions, and you find yourself rooting for them.

Most people I know agree that it's a good movie for the world today. The everyday teenager out there who's a lot like Juno needs to see her making a good choice. But I also think it's a good movie for people like me, people who aren't exactly mainstream. I don't cuss; my parents aren't divorced; I have the faith. But this movie helps me realize that virtue isn't the monopoly of conservative, religious types. It helps me open up to the people who aren't at all like me, but sometimes are doing heroic things I'd be afraid of doing.

I'm afraid it's too easy for me here, in a Catholic college surrounded by people like myself, to get in an ivory tower and dictate to everyone else what they should do. I imagine that no one could ever be virtuous without the perfect (more or less) environment I'm used to. We get scared of the world outside. But out there in the Real World, wonderful and beautiful things are going on. It's time for me to get humble and appreicate that.

Job interview--update

2008-03-05T15:20:00.000-08:00

Well, the job interview went very well, I think. It was quite short. None of the difficult questions I'd prepared for came up. Instead, the principal just asked what I would be interested in teaching and told me what is expected of the teachers. It sounds more and more like something I would love to do.

My teaching itself will probably be the main point for winning (or losing) me this job. I am always being observed as I teach, and this will show them whether they want to hire me. Though I think I'm doing well so far! I had a great class on Monday where I really felt I was connecting with the students. That's a beautiful feeling.

I'm teaching very often now, and getting more and more comfortable with it. The more I teach, the more I feel like it's something I've been called to do.

Job Interview

2008-03-04T07:31:00.000-08:00

I have my first "serious" job interview tomorrow. I'll be interviewing for a teaching job that I want very much. It's a Catholic junior/senior high school, and I'm really inspired by the work they're doing. I want to be a part of it.

I have this theory about holiness. I just don't have the willpower to keep myself always doing things that will make me holier. Instead, I put myself in situations where I'm going to have to come out of myself. Many of the summer jobs I chose for that very reason. One would try my patience; another would make me more open-minded. This high school job promises to try me in a number of ways, from making me work hard to teaching me to care more about others. The work environment is wonderful; all the teachers are so kind, and they genuinely care about their students. That's what I want to be and do.

So, pray for me! If I get this job, I'll be a real teacher at last.

Important News Story

2008-02-29T12:38:00.000-08:00

Please read this article. Some friends of mine covered it in the hopes of helping the priest, who is a friend of some of them.

Fr. Gallagher

Student Teaching

2008-02-21T12:20:00.000-08:00

I'm beginning to get used to student teaching. I've taught three classes, and it's becoming less of a huge life crisis to go into the classroom and teach on my own.

Really, student teaching is very much like something else I've done: nannying. On the one hand, you have time to prepare and a bit of distance from the kids you're taking care of. This gives you a chance to come up with some ideas the parent or "real" teacher hasn't thought of.

On the other hand, you're trespassing into something you don't completely understand. Your "fresh" point of view on the class seems like intrusion if you state it too positively. Our professor told us it's like being in your mother-in-law's kitchen: you want to help, but you have to make sure to help in such a way that the master teacher still feels in charge. It would be a huge embarrassment for them if you're better at in than they are, even if only in one aspect.

The real problem is one I had on my very first nanny job. You walk into a situation with no discipline, where you are not respected, and there's nothing you can do because you only have them a few hours a week. What can you do in that time to undo a year of habit? You're not the authority. It's not that the students are bad ... it's just that they don't listen. If I had them every day, I think I could teach them I mean business. But in one day a week, all I can do is preserve the status quo. Too many changes and the master teacher might not like it. And I teach with the master teachers watching. They tell me what to do and I do it, because there's only so much leeway I have in preparing my lessons.

That's not to say that this has been my complete experience. This is not like the nanny days with little hoodlums running around and there's nothing you can do to make them sit still. Some classes are better than others. But the fact is, no student teacher can fix all the problems she sees. It's a little frustrating sometimes.

Debate Club: Torture

2008-02-21T12:16:00.000-08:00

One of my big activities this semester is debate club. It only meets every couple of weeks, on Sunday nights, but whatever topic we debate ends up the huge controversy for the whole week. I'm always getting into conversations about the topics.

Two weeks ago we debated whether torture could ever be morally permissible. Unfortunately, we didn't have one solid definition of torture. I liked the government's definition, which one person brought up, of "extreme physical pain or mental anguish inflicted for the purpose of extracting information." The only problem with it was the definition of "extreme." But I think we all could agree that certain things are extreme. I would say that extracting fingernails or electrocuting someone, both examples brought up in the debate, would count.

I was amazed to find that, even without arguing with this defnition, many people still thought torture was acceptable. Basically the argument was that if enough lives were in danger, it didn't really matter what we did to one person. Coming out of Catholics, Catholics who have received good theological instruction, the idea shocked me. Haven't we all learned that the ends never justify the means? Unless they could prove the means were morally good or neutral, they couldn't justify it for any reason, no matter how good. No one was able to do that.

An important question that was touched on at the debate, and brought up often afterward, was the guilt or innocence of the person being tortured. It seems to me that it is wrong to inflict harm on the innocent, just as it is wrong to kill the innocent even when there are circumstances where one can kill the guilty (capital punishment, self-defense). And it also seems you would have to have pretty strong proof against someone to be certain they were guilty of something.

But someone argued that withholding information from the legitimate authority of this country was in itself a crime and worthy of punishment. The punishment would continue until the crime ceased, i.e., the information was revealed. However, torture is not generally inflicted on American citizens, who one might argue should obey the government. It is inflicted on citizens of other nations, following the instructions of their nations. So, in this case, it would be a crime for them to obey our government when their own has forbidden them from doing so.

A rather outlandish argument I heard was an argument from the Church's allowance for capital punishment in certain circumstances. If someone is guilty of a crime, as argued above, they deserve death. If we can kill them in justice, obviously we may harm them in any way we see fit. They have renounced their human dignity.

That totally ignores recent statements on capital punishment, limiting it to circumstances when it is necessary for the protection of society. Capital punishment does not exist to satisfy justice, but to protect society. Even a criminal retains his human dignity. For the protection of others, we may remove him from society, but we do not treat him with cruelty. Our constitution specifies that we may not use cruel and unusual punishments. In Elizabethan England, thieves had their ears docked or their hands cut off. America does not work that way; it was founded on a basis of human rights. We must treat all human beings with respect.

I had two main arguments against torture which I presented at the debate. The first was that no one had been able to mark out a clear line between just and unjust torture. There seemed no specific point where a torturer would have to stop, if his subject did not break down. People stood up at this debate saying they had no idea where the line was, but that they were willing to torture someone for a good reason. That means that they would undertake an action without knowing whether they were on the moral or immoral side of the action.

It troubles me to hear people stand up and say that Americans torturing terrorists is okay, and that Vietnamese soldiers torturing American POW's is not okay, without being able to specify the difference except for the idea that "we're the good guys." Being the good guys is not enough. You have to actually be good. To stay the "good guys," you have to be able to defend exactly how your actions can be defined as good.

Without a clear line, you reach situations as happen in the TV show 24. (It was brought up much too often in this debate!) In the second season, Jack Bauer knocks out some teeth on a terrorist because he knows a bomb has been planted in Los Angeles and won't say where. By the fourth season, he electrocutes his girlfriend's ex-husband because Jack has a vague suspicion the man might know something about a conspiracy. There is no clear moral line where Jack knows he has to stop. And it seems he's addicted to torture, because he's ceased to believe he can gain information any other way. (For all Jack-lovers out there, I'm sorry. Jack is not God.)

My other objection to torture is simply its goal. The goal of torture is to break the will of the prisoner, so that he will go against his principles and tell you what he believes he must not. People say it is impossible to break anyone's will--after all, the early Christians were tortured and did not give up their faith. Well, the Christians had divine help. Apart from that, given enough torture, there are few people who would not deny their very soul. Read 1984. Under torture, a man agrees to say that four is five, and even "try to believe it." Can you be certain you would not do the same? The human will is strong, but not invincible. And it is the image of God in man. I cannot think of anything less in accordance with human dignity to say that I will break the image of God in anyone.

So, just my two cents. It was not listened to. The vote was 23 for, 7 against, and 7 abstensions. I was ashamed of my fellow students, that they would come to such a conclusion without even placing any limitation on torture. I comfort myself by saying most people like me, who looked at the poster and thought, "Torture? What's the point in that argument? No one will defend torture," probably didn't show up. I hope this is true. But I am beginning to see the dark underside of conservatism, which denies good things like mercy simply because the liberals support them. Many conservatives support torture without a second thought. But I cannot be persuaded to do so, no matter what was at stake.

Introducing my new blog

2008-02-15T10:12:00.000-08:00

Hello, Internet world. Welcome to my new blog. On my other blog, Enchiridion, I've commented on poetry for almost three years now, but I've kept my own life and my own opinions out of it most of the time.

Now, I've decided I really do want to talk about those things, though out of the way of my poetry, so I started this new blog just to talk about me, my life, and my thoughts about the world in general. I doubt it will be hugely popular, but it will be a chance for me to formulate my thoughts and communicate to the people who do read it.

So, some facts about me that might be useful to know:

1. I'm a senior at a Catholic, liberal arts college. I'm majoring in English and minoring in Classics.

2. I'm hoping to be a high school teacher. Right now I'm student teaching, which is extremely stressful but a great learning experience.

3. Politically, I'm working things out. I was brought up Republican but am very disillusioned with the party right now. So I remain conservative, with a bit of healthy (or unhealthy) distrust of politicians.

4. Religiously, I'm an orthodox Catholic. There is no Church teaching which I refuse to believe. Having said that, though, I might mention that I disagree with a lot of things done in the name of orthodox Catholicism. I might go into that later.

I think that's all you really know to get started. Soon I will start posting on my experiences and reflections. I hope you enjoy!