When I proudly proclaimed to a friend that I had caught up on my blog, I may have been exaggerating slightly -- I still have to cover the March itself.
Monday morning we woke entirely too early and headed into the city for the Catholic Youth Rally and the March for Life. The night before, meteorologists predicted freezing rain, so the government was opening two hours late. Translation: God moved rush hour back 2 hours for us, so we could make it into the city without any trouble. We parked at the Basilica and metroed over to the Verizon Center, where we met 17 000 of our friends, including 500 of our best buds from Steubenville.
While I decided I could take or leave (leaning toward the leave side) the music and entertainment, I had another profound moment during Mass. All these people, converged together at this particular point in time, for one purpose: we eagerly awaited the moment our Savior would come to us. In His word, in His body, in our lives. I also had a very bizarre moment as bishops were introduced to cheering, applause, screams and shouts from their diocesan youth. The bishops loved it and waved with love and joy to the crowds thirsty for the Church.
Then we followed a police escort to the cold and rainy National Mall where politicians politicked, throwing in some pro-life and some election-year catchphrases. I met up with a good friend and W&M alum who had come from UVA grad school. Finally, after a long wait, we marched. Through the rain and cold, from the Capitol to the Supreme Court, where women and men who are post-abortive gave testimonies to the value of life and the lie of abortion and a few angry counter-protesters held dripping signs.
After snapping a few photos of Shelly in front of the Supreme Court and saying a prayer for life, we headed to the craziness that was Union Station. Rush hour getting out of town wasn't too bad (it helped having an HOV), but the fog we hit after a dinner stop was pretty brutal. We wound our way slowly through the mountains, at last making it out of the fog and back at last to Steubenville.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
On Brides and Churches
Sunday, as Thom, Shelly, and Brother Bear went to the zoo (which Brother Bear really wanted to see), I stopped in Alexandria to attend a bridal expo with Wendy. She got engaged on Christmas Eve and is starting the process of wedding planning. God blessed us by putting me in DC the weekend of the expo: she needed a girl friend to go with her, and I am sad that I am not around for her wedding planning.
We spent the end of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon waiting in line (it was worth it -- we were the first ones in!), tasting wedding cakes, and listening to vendors advertise. Wendy put her name into several drawings for discounts and gift cards and impressed vendors by her early start on her planning. LB's wedding is the first wedding I am seeing from near the inside, and I am shocked by the amount of planning required, although, having run large events, I shouldn't be. Now with Wendy, I am seeing even more of the beginning of the process and it is quite amazing the culture and business world that has sprung up around weddings.
[Side Note: It is also fascinating how much is geared to the bride, rather than the groom or the couple. But that is a separate train of thought.]
After the expo and lunch, Wendy dropped me at the Metro and I traveled into the city for Mass at the National Basilica. Although I have visited on numerous occasions, I have never attended Mass in the main church. We knew the liturgy would be crowded and planned to get there at least two hours early. To my shock, when I walked in at 3:30 (Mass was at 6pm) the building was packed. Every pew upstairs was full and the folding chairs facing CC TVs in the side chapels upstairs and down were rapidly becoming occupied.
I get easily overwhelmed by large crowds, so I made a beeline for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel. I had barely knelt down, however, when a security guard told us we had to leave -- this part of the church was being closed off to prep for Mass. With great difficulty, I pulled up some tile in the back of the church and tried to make myself large enough to hold floor space for four people.
Eventually, the other three made it from the zoo and Emily joined us, having abandoned her studies for the evening. We spotted an other Catholic alum from the College, in town with the Supreme Council of the Knights of Columbus, and Thom drew in three of his friends from Jersey, so we ended up with nine people in space enough for four.
At first I had a lot of trouble making Mass a holy time -- again, don't like large crowds and the vibe of the place before Mass was more like a street festival than a solemn liturgy. However, in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer, as I stared toward the altar, the people packed into every available space distracted me. This time, however, I realized the profundity of the moment -- thousands upon thousands of people, so desperate for Jesus and His justice that they packed themselves into this building, and other churches across DC, to meet Him and draw closer to Him. So what if I was rubbing elbows, knees, backs, and shoulders with eight of my closest neighbors? We were here for what matters: the little white wafer that has the power to transform us and the world.
We spent the end of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon waiting in line (it was worth it -- we were the first ones in!), tasting wedding cakes, and listening to vendors advertise. Wendy put her name into several drawings for discounts and gift cards and impressed vendors by her early start on her planning. LB's wedding is the first wedding I am seeing from near the inside, and I am shocked by the amount of planning required, although, having run large events, I shouldn't be. Now with Wendy, I am seeing even more of the beginning of the process and it is quite amazing the culture and business world that has sprung up around weddings.
[Side Note: It is also fascinating how much is geared to the bride, rather than the groom or the couple. But that is a separate train of thought.]
After the expo and lunch, Wendy dropped me at the Metro and I traveled into the city for Mass at the National Basilica. Although I have visited on numerous occasions, I have never attended Mass in the main church. We knew the liturgy would be crowded and planned to get there at least two hours early. To my shock, when I walked in at 3:30 (Mass was at 6pm) the building was packed. Every pew upstairs was full and the folding chairs facing CC TVs in the side chapels upstairs and down were rapidly becoming occupied.
I get easily overwhelmed by large crowds, so I made a beeline for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel. I had barely knelt down, however, when a security guard told us we had to leave -- this part of the church was being closed off to prep for Mass. With great difficulty, I pulled up some tile in the back of the church and tried to make myself large enough to hold floor space for four people.
Eventually, the other three made it from the zoo and Emily joined us, having abandoned her studies for the evening. We spotted an other Catholic alum from the College, in town with the Supreme Council of the Knights of Columbus, and Thom drew in three of his friends from Jersey, so we ended up with nine people in space enough for four.
At first I had a lot of trouble making Mass a holy time -- again, don't like large crowds and the vibe of the place before Mass was more like a street festival than a solemn liturgy. However, in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer, as I stared toward the altar, the people packed into every available space distracted me. This time, however, I realized the profundity of the moment -- thousands upon thousands of people, so desperate for Jesus and His justice that they packed themselves into this building, and other churches across DC, to meet Him and draw closer to Him. So what if I was rubbing elbows, knees, backs, and shoulders with eight of my closest neighbors? We were here for what matters: the little white wafer that has the power to transform us and the world.
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington
Franciscan makes an annual pilgrimage to DC for the March for Life at the beginning of each winter semester. Last semester, I learned that Brother Bear (another MA theology student) had never been to DC. So he, Shelly, Thom, and I decided to make a trip of it. We headed southeast on Friday to spend three nights at my house in NoVA and take DC by storm!
We left Steubenville running ahead of a winter storm, which pursued us all the way across Pennsylvania and down through Maryland, finally catching us as we ate a nine-thirty dinner and planned for the next day. Saturday, we decided, we were going to see all the city! Our ambitious list included: Arlington Cemetery, "the Smithsonian," the Capitol, the Supreme Court, the Library of Congress, the White House, and all the monuments and memorials. To make the list more realistic, we narrowed down "the Smithsonian" to a list of priorities (Natural History or Air & Space) and nixed the Jefferson Memorial as too far to walk.
Saturday morning we chipped ice off my car, hit up Mass, and headed into the city. The whole day, we trekked through ice and cold, but it stopped dripping pretty early on and my boots kept me warm. We kept running across clergy, religious, and groups of people with various diocesan names and pro-life slogans on matching articles of clothing. We made it to everything on the list, although we did not get into any of the government buildings (in spite lengthy contemplation about visiting Obama).
We witnessed to historic DC monument-moments. The Washington Monument has signs up explaining why it is closed: earthquake damage. The recently-opened MLK Memorial has a quote on one side that will be changed soon, to better reflect what King actually said.
We left Steubenville running ahead of a winter storm, which pursued us all the way across Pennsylvania and down through Maryland, finally catching us as we ate a nine-thirty dinner and planned for the next day. Saturday, we decided, we were going to see all the city! Our ambitious list included: Arlington Cemetery, "the Smithsonian," the Capitol, the Supreme Court, the Library of Congress, the White House, and all the monuments and memorials. To make the list more realistic, we narrowed down "the Smithsonian" to a list of priorities (Natural History or Air & Space) and nixed the Jefferson Memorial as too far to walk.
Saturday morning we chipped ice off my car, hit up Mass, and headed into the city. The whole day, we trekked through ice and cold, but it stopped dripping pretty early on and my boots kept me warm. We kept running across clergy, religious, and groups of people with various diocesan names and pro-life slogans on matching articles of clothing. We made it to everything on the list, although we did not get into any of the government buildings (in spite lengthy contemplation about visiting Obama).
We witnessed to historic DC monument-moments. The Washington Monument has signs up explaining why it is closed: earthquake damage. The recently-opened MLK Memorial has a quote on one side that will be changed soon, to better reflect what King actually said.
In Which I Can't Stay Put
Somehow or another, I moved again. Despite being constantly eager for the day that I live in one room for more than one year (I came really close to a full year in both St. Louis and my townhouse in the 'burg), I moved again. A week ago Sunday, when I headed back up to Steubenville for my second semester, I packed up everything from the house I'd shared with Victoria and brought it over to Shelly's apartment.
Apparently, most people don't pick up halfway through the year and move (go figure) so everyone is asking if living with Victoria was going well. Yes. God blessed me my first semester living with her. But sometimes life rearranges us in unexpected ways, and living with Shelly is one of those unexpected yet beautiful things in life.
So now I have a lovely new apartment-mate and her cat keeping me company in my daily life. I also am living in a pale blue room, the color I wanted for years to paint my bedroom. I have stairs in my closet, a stained glass window in my stairwell, and a fraction in my street address. Between Shelly and myself, we have enough tea to open our own shop and a love for Jane Austen that borders cultic obsession.
I think everyone in my life has my new address, but if your email was not listed under "My Contacts" in Gmail, you may not have gotten that update. If you want it, just shoot an email/Facebook message my way!
Apparently, most people don't pick up halfway through the year and move (go figure) so everyone is asking if living with Victoria was going well. Yes. God blessed me my first semester living with her. But sometimes life rearranges us in unexpected ways, and living with Shelly is one of those unexpected yet beautiful things in life.
So now I have a lovely new apartment-mate and her cat keeping me company in my daily life. I also am living in a pale blue room, the color I wanted for years to paint my bedroom. I have stairs in my closet, a stained glass window in my stairwell, and a fraction in my street address. Between Shelly and myself, we have enough tea to open our own shop and a love for Jane Austen that borders cultic obsession.
I think everyone in my life has my new address, but if your email was not listed under "My Contacts" in Gmail, you may not have gotten that update. If you want it, just shoot an email/Facebook message my way!
Friday, January 20, 2012
Marcellus the Shale
I have been reading up on hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, lately. (And by "reading up" I mean skimming articles and looking at pictures. The link is mostly picture. Click it!) My fascination stems from the possibility that Steubenville might benefit economically from anticipated fracking in Ohio. If successful, it could transform this ghost town into something resembling the prospering city it once was.
I learned, through my reading and picture-gazing, that I currently sit atop the Marcellus Shale. Which sounds like the distant Roman cousin of Marcel the Shell. An appropriate relationship, since shale and shells are related. Also, radioactive. Shale more than shells on that count, but maybe radioactive exposure explains why Marcel acts so un-shell-like.
I learned, through my reading and picture-gazing, that I currently sit atop the Marcellus Shale. Which sounds like the distant Roman cousin of Marcel the Shell. An appropriate relationship, since shale and shells are related. Also, radioactive. Shale more than shells on that count, but maybe radioactive exposure explains why Marcel acts so un-shell-like.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Day-Maker #55
Two men in matching outfits at Wal-Mart: black work books, paint-splattered jeans, jackets, black cowboy hats, and headlamps. I'm sure there is some ultimate purpose. I just have not idea what that might be.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Child-Proofing, Speeding Tickets, and Where Babies Come From
My latest love (read: procrastination enabler) is Pintrest. This morning, I discovered this gem:
(Note: I'm not sure how linking to people on Pintrest works, but I'm going to try here. Let me know if this works!)
It's funny, right? I'm sure normal people see it and chuckle and go on with their days. Problem: I'm not normal. So I see this and immediately think of freshman year intro to philosophy and abortion/contraception. One day in class we had a discussion about abortion with many analogies and comparisons, from Judith Jarvis Thompson's unconscious violinist, to her baby-spores, to wearing seat belts. Wendy and I got into it with a classmate (so much so that seven years later, a classmate I hadn't talked to since that class ended mentioned it to me at a recent re-encounter). As we left, Wendy exclaimed: "I don't think she knows where babies come from!"
I don't think our classmate expressed an unusual confusion. With contraception, we modern ladies are taught to baby-proof our houses. "If you do this, then you will not get pregnant." Not "sex causes pregnancy." No wonder then that babies come as surprises. No wonder then that abortion seems necessary. (Note: I know not all abortions result from failed contraception. I just content that a certain attitude about abortion is prevalent due to contraception.) After all, if I baby-proof my house, a baby has no right to get in!
If we accept the second statement above ("sex causes pregnancy") as truth, then we realize that we cannot baby-proof our houses. Sure, one doesn't always get a baby after having sex, but pregnancy is a natural consequence of sex. This means that if I am having sex, I have no right to be not-pregnant. I realize this is a radical (and some would say anti-feminist) statement. But I hold to it. If I am not sexually active, then I have every right to be not-pregnant.
Although this is a problematic analogy, I want to compare it to speeding. I speed all the time. I have never gotten a ticket. However, if I get pulled over for driving 68 in a 55 zone, I can't complain about an injustice. I engaged in an action (speeding) and reaped the consequences (a ticket). Not everyone gets a ticket every time he or she speeds, and many people decide the action is worth the risk and engage in it anyway. We learn "safe-speeding" (stay under reckless, know where the cops tend to hide, stay with traffic, etc.) to reduce the chances of getting pulled over. But we still know it could happen.
Now think of how many people spend time trying to get out of traffic tickets. Even if they were doing 48 over in a 25 zone. A certain lack of personal responsibility characterizes more of our lives than just speeding. It spreads over everything, even (maybe especially) sexuality. And it feeds into the feeling that we need abortion. We need a way to avoid responsibility for the consequences of our actions.
It's funny, right? I'm sure normal people see it and chuckle and go on with their days. Problem: I'm not normal. So I see this and immediately think of freshman year intro to philosophy and abortion/contraception. One day in class we had a discussion about abortion with many analogies and comparisons, from Judith Jarvis Thompson's unconscious violinist, to her baby-spores, to wearing seat belts. Wendy and I got into it with a classmate (so much so that seven years later, a classmate I hadn't talked to since that class ended mentioned it to me at a recent re-encounter). As we left, Wendy exclaimed: "I don't think she knows where babies come from!"
I don't think our classmate expressed an unusual confusion. With contraception, we modern ladies are taught to baby-proof our houses. "If you do this, then you will not get pregnant." Not "sex causes pregnancy." No wonder then that babies come as surprises. No wonder then that abortion seems necessary. (Note: I know not all abortions result from failed contraception. I just content that a certain attitude about abortion is prevalent due to contraception.) After all, if I baby-proof my house, a baby has no right to get in!
If we accept the second statement above ("sex causes pregnancy") as truth, then we realize that we cannot baby-proof our houses. Sure, one doesn't always get a baby after having sex, but pregnancy is a natural consequence of sex. This means that if I am having sex, I have no right to be not-pregnant. I realize this is a radical (and some would say anti-feminist) statement. But I hold to it. If I am not sexually active, then I have every right to be not-pregnant.
Although this is a problematic analogy, I want to compare it to speeding. I speed all the time. I have never gotten a ticket. However, if I get pulled over for driving 68 in a 55 zone, I can't complain about an injustice. I engaged in an action (speeding) and reaped the consequences (a ticket). Not everyone gets a ticket every time he or she speeds, and many people decide the action is worth the risk and engage in it anyway. We learn "safe-speeding" (stay under reckless, know where the cops tend to hide, stay with traffic, etc.) to reduce the chances of getting pulled over. But we still know it could happen.
Now think of how many people spend time trying to get out of traffic tickets. Even if they were doing 48 over in a 25 zone. A certain lack of personal responsibility characterizes more of our lives than just speeding. It spreads over everything, even (maybe especially) sexuality. And it feeds into the feeling that we need abortion. We need a way to avoid responsibility for the consequences of our actions.
Friday, January 13, 2012
The End of the Internet
I made a vow of productivity today, and so promptly hopped on Google Reader. (Have I mentioned that Google owns my life?) After reading through items from my subscriptions, I turned to "Recommended Items." I scrolled past a paltry half dozen technophile articles to reach a message: "You have no new Recommended Items." Either I have reached the end of the internet, or Google knows me so well that it is helping in my battle against procrastination.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Trading Couches
Last year, Julia spent copious amounts of time on my couch. This week, I returned the favor. I headed down to the 'burg Sunday, figuring I'd stay two nights, but hedging and saying I'd spend two or three. Four nights later, I tore myself away. I can't believe how easy it was to slip in again. In so many ways, that place is still home. Here are some Cliff's Notes from the expedition:
1) First thing, I met up with a friend from undergrad who teaches about an hour away. We only started to get to know each other at the end of our college career and have since become better friends. She credited this blog.
2) I discovered that Percy likes the office supply section of Target. Things I never predicted we had in common.
3) Julia and I made spiced wine from a French recipe. In order to do this, we scoured the 'burg for star anise. After our two normal grocery stores and trying places in Ye Olde Towne, we ended up at the new schmancy grocery store, where we found an impressive selection of spices, along with French water and cheese. The wine was delicious -- you should try. Also, you should click the link to see Julia's tumblr and a picture of the wine!
4) I had lunch with Marianne, Brigit, and Ariel (who has my job now). Other than that Marianne can walk now (no more knee troubles!) it was as if nothing had changed.
5) A friend who transferred into the College's Law School owns a Vespa. I rode around the 'burg on the back of the Vespa, which was surprisingly similar to riding the tandem bike. (In terms of the free-air freedom and lack of control. Also that we broke 35mph on each, which may not have been the best idea.)
6) I tried to go to Mass five times and succeeded twice. Still, I managed to attend services at three different churches.
7) Ariel and LB have a cute apartment which I finally got to see. My extra night also meant I got to help celebrate Ariel's birthday.
8) My morning coffee came from Starbucks, thanks to a gift card. One morning, I sat next to a Free Mason interviewing a potential Mason. I wanted to interrupt for most of the conversation, but especially when the older man started talking about Stonewall Jackson's destructive march, burning the South during the Civil War.
9) The 'burg is an excellent place for bumming, especially on sunny days. Leaving the 'burg was, like my move out, like at homecoming, hard to do. I love visiting, but I'm tired of good-byes.
1) First thing, I met up with a friend from undergrad who teaches about an hour away. We only started to get to know each other at the end of our college career and have since become better friends. She credited this blog.
2) I discovered that Percy likes the office supply section of Target. Things I never predicted we had in common.
3) Julia and I made spiced wine from a French recipe. In order to do this, we scoured the 'burg for star anise. After our two normal grocery stores and trying places in Ye Olde Towne, we ended up at the new schmancy grocery store, where we found an impressive selection of spices, along with French water and cheese. The wine was delicious -- you should try. Also, you should click the link to see Julia's tumblr and a picture of the wine!
4) I had lunch with Marianne, Brigit, and Ariel (who has my job now). Other than that Marianne can walk now (no more knee troubles!) it was as if nothing had changed.
5) A friend who transferred into the College's Law School owns a Vespa. I rode around the 'burg on the back of the Vespa, which was surprisingly similar to riding the tandem bike. (In terms of the free-air freedom and lack of control. Also that we broke 35mph on each, which may not have been the best idea.)
6) I tried to go to Mass five times and succeeded twice. Still, I managed to attend services at three different churches.
7) Ariel and LB have a cute apartment which I finally got to see. My extra night also meant I got to help celebrate Ariel's birthday.
8) My morning coffee came from Starbucks, thanks to a gift card. One morning, I sat next to a Free Mason interviewing a potential Mason. I wanted to interrupt for most of the conversation, but especially when the older man started talking about Stonewall Jackson's destructive march, burning the South during the Civil War.
9) The 'burg is an excellent place for bumming, especially on sunny days. Leaving the 'burg was, like my move out, like at homecoming, hard to do. I love visiting, but I'm tired of good-byes.
Monday, January 9, 2012
All Things New
Confession: I am like a small child in my love of new things. I don't buy new toothpaste or shampoo until the old one is gone, or will be within one or two uses, because I can't wait to use the new one -- even if it's the exact same product. (This tendency leads to almost-finished tubes of toothpaste in my bathroom if I'm not careful, because I'll start the new one before the old one is gone.) So when the new translation of the Roman Missal came out, I was overjoyed. The classics-lover in me, who translates literally, wants to rave how much better the new translation deals with the Latin, which is true, but that's not really why I love it so much. Every Mass was (and still is, really) a chance for something new, and I am like a child with a new toy or a young adult with a new bottle of shampoo.
Besides the chance for something new, the words changed into poetry. I am a word-oriented person and find words moving. I sit and relish a word or turn of phrase, much more so than I will a piece of visual art or music -- as my faithful readers may have guessed, based on the prevalence of words and absence of pictures here. So the changes captivate me. For example: from "from east to west" to "from the rising to the setting of the sun" and from "with all the choirs of angels" to "with angels and archangels, thrones and dominions, principalities and powers, and all the hosts of heaven," from "send down your Spirit" to "let your Spirit descend like the dew." They capture my imagination and send it spinning toward heaven.
Besides the chance for something new, the words changed into poetry. I am a word-oriented person and find words moving. I sit and relish a word or turn of phrase, much more so than I will a piece of visual art or music -- as my faithful readers may have guessed, based on the prevalence of words and absence of pictures here. So the changes captivate me. For example: from "from east to west" to "from the rising to the setting of the sun" and from "with all the choirs of angels" to "with angels and archangels, thrones and dominions, principalities and powers, and all the hosts of heaven," from "send down your Spirit" to "let your Spirit descend like the dew." They capture my imagination and send it spinning toward heaven.
Friday, January 6, 2012
A First
Facebook is currently (I am ashamed to say) my number one new source. Here's one of the recent abortion-related news tidbits that has appeared on my newsfeed.
Two Maryland abortionists were charged with murder for killing viable unborn children. Their bodies were discovered after a woman landed in the emergency room due to an abortion. The charges, while obviously horrible, represent a step in the right direction, as does the first line of the article. Hopefully, we'll hear how this one ends.
Two Maryland abortionists were charged with murder for killing viable unborn children. Their bodies were discovered after a woman landed in the emergency room due to an abortion. The charges, while obviously horrible, represent a step in the right direction, as does the first line of the article. Hopefully, we'll hear how this one ends.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Fears
Two of my greatest fears rolled into one webcomic. I, too, will do this to my children one day, and I used to have nightmares about being chased by wildcats right outside my house.
Monday, January 2, 2012
2012
It's a new year and a chance to hit some restart buttons, always a good thing. We humans base our time on cycles, giving ourselves constantly the chance to begin anew.
I have a few New Year's traditions, including one family tradition. Our German side passed down a New Year's meal of pork and sauerkraut. The pork is for prosperity and the sauerkraut is for luck. Or maybe the pork is for luck and the sauerkraut is for prosperity. I can never remember.
This year, however, we had our New Year's dinner on January 2nd, due to timing issues and New Year's Day commitments. It makes me feel like I am starting the year late. And as a girl who is constantly a day late and a dollar short, I can't help but feel that this is not an auspicious way to begin the year. Or maybe this is simply God having fun with my quest to give up minor superstitions.
I have a few New Year's traditions, including one family tradition. Our German side passed down a New Year's meal of pork and sauerkraut. The pork is for prosperity and the sauerkraut is for luck. Or maybe the pork is for luck and the sauerkraut is for prosperity. I can never remember.
This year, however, we had our New Year's dinner on January 2nd, due to timing issues and New Year's Day commitments. It makes me feel like I am starting the year late. And as a girl who is constantly a day late and a dollar short, I can't help but feel that this is not an auspicious way to begin the year. Or maybe this is simply God having fun with my quest to give up minor superstitions.
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