Reading the Catechism

A few months ago I began taking an adult education class on the United States Catechism of the Catholic Church for Adults.  I can honestly say that as a former CCD teacher, a four time godmother, one time confirmation sponsor, a graduate of a Catholic High School and a Catholic University, an employee of a Catholic Church, and the daughter of a ten year seminarian who married a woman who was living in a convent, it has been one of the most humbling experiences of my life.  Half the time when I am reading it I think that I need a study group for my study group.  It seems I can't go from one class to the next without learning some phenomenal new thing about the Catholic Faith that I have been utterly blind to... until now.  

Anyways, as a consequence of this I have taken to bringing my Catechism with me just about everywhere.  Including the airport.  

I went to Chicago a few weeks ago for my college roommate's wedding.  This is the part of the story that happened even before I left the Austin airport.  

I found my gate quickly but there was nowhere to sit.  Ah well, I've always been most comfortable sitting on the floor, legs crossed, book in lap- either watching the world go by or ignoring it completely   This  was no exception.  So there I was in the Austin airport, sitting on the floor, reading my Catechism, trying to focus while fixing my hair in some truly geeky knots.  

And then this guy walked in.  Since the age of three I have been vocally aware of how boy crazy I am, but for the most part I keep it in check.  Then I realized this very cute guy was wearing a giant crucifix around his neck.  For the record- protestants don't wear Crucifixes- only Catholics do.  I proceed to kick myself for leaving my gaudy cross at home.  

Then I realized I didn't need a cross- I had something better- my Catechism.  That's right, I used my USCCC to get a boy's attention.  Except it didn't work.  I thumbed through it, held it upright, flipped through pages, jotted down some notes, dropped it, opened it again, and just about threw it at his head.  Then I gave up.

I sighed, closed the book and was putting it back in my suitcase when I heard someone say, "Excuse me, are you reading the Catechism?"  
I looked up into his lovely blue eyes and preened, all the while thinking, *oh the cleverness of me* as I said, "Yes, yes I am."

And I proceeded to talk to him for the next twenty minutes until it was time to board our flight.  We talked about all kinds of things, my job, his school, Texas, AMU... and that he's a Seminarian in the Diocese of Austin.  It was a humbling experience.  This was particularly embarrassing until we realized that we knew lots of the same people.  

Oh well, next time I'll know, never flirt with a guy who carries his own altar server alb with him on a flight to Chicago.

The purse

This picture was taken on the short bus from the rental car to the airport.  Please note, the time stamp is off. There are four girls in this picture: Jilly-Bean and Absolutely Abby, and myself (we roomed together in college) and Leslie, who moved in after I left. I never met her until this past weekend when we were almost inseparable. After spending three days together I am reminded how very much I miss my college friends but not college.  I don't miss college at all.  

The reason I am showing you this picture is because it is the only one that shows the purse, by which I mean Leslie's purse.  Leslie packed everything she needed (except for toothpaste) in this purse.  She had two complete and modest outfits, a set of pajamas, a hairbrush, toothbrush, makeup and jewelry in there. You can see that her purse is smaller than mine.  I am in awe of this girl.  I want to be more like her.  And in some small way I'm glad she was there to share my room and my car on one of the best weekends of my life.

Little Miss Muffet

Yesterday I went to turn on the AC unit in the office.  

Sitting pretty on top of the unit was a not-so-small spider. I carefully picked him up (on a box) and carried him outside and gently shook the box furiously, taking care to ensure that he was no longer a passenger of the box.  A moment later I returned to the AC unit to turn it on and found the spider sitting precisely where I left him. 

I gave up and left the AC unit alone (after carefully avoiding the spider and turning on the , complaining loudly to Fr. Steve.  Father asked me what I expected the spider to do and I half screamed, "I expected him to do WHAT I TOLD HIM TO DO!" Father had the courtesy not to laugh... or at least not loudly.

Being a Good Example: Part Four- More than Meets the Eye

A long, long time ago in a galaxy not so far away a real snake of a guy raised his head from the ground, saw this lady out in the garden wearing nothing but a smile and said, "Hey baBEE!!! Eat this shiney, sweet fruit and you'll be brilliant!" And she was all like, "OKAY!" Five minutes later she had her husband doing the same thing because, "All the cool kids are doing it," and about five minutes after that there was an echo throughout Eden that vaguely resembled someone saying, "Oh sh*t!" Thus began the fall of man and the epiphany of clothing... and modesty. 

This is one of those posts that I really didn't want to write, but it all goes back to the being a good example issue, and it has been bothering me again.  And if the fact that it has taken me three years to write this post is any indication- it has been bothering me a lot. Fear not- I'm not going to spend three pages lecturing on why women should wear burkas or shapeless potato sacks.  

Let's talk about one of my favorite subjects- clothes. My fashion sense has never been terribly, well, fashionable. I am capable of dressing to impress when necessary but most of the time I just dress like... well, like me. I like embroidered jeans, shiney shirts, headscarves, and shawls that are three years out of style. I like big earrings and tall shoes and my hair is usually a whirlwind of activity. That being said I like to be comfortable in my clothes. Wearing clothing that barely covers what it is supposed is usually awkward and in constant need of adjusting. If something is too short you have to carefully stand up and pull it back into place. If something is too low you can never bend over. That's gotta be restricting. 

I know that everyone is different. Not everyone has to wear things that are no lower than four fingers from the collar bone. Due to my... curves... I kinda have to. I imagine that really tall girls can get away with showing more leg than I can as well. This might be because they are more graceful than I am, or that they just have more leg. I am infinitely aware that not everyone is me, but these are my rules for modesty. 

1.) I believe everything from three inches above cleavage to just above the knee should be covered for aesthetic as well as modest reasons (not that I don't believe I have a beautiful belly button- I just don't think anyone else should be pondering this fact). 

2.) I believe that fitted clothing is okay so long as it isn't so tight as to look like you were dipped in it.  

3.) I think that if it has "slidies" on the straps it should be treated as underwear and covered.  I believe that there is such a thing as conditional modesty- you wouldn't wear the same thing to church as you would to go to the beach. This is the theory that you wouldn't wear an outfit to go clubbing that you would to go sailing just as you wouldn't wear your Halloween costume (and in particularly mine) to Church.  

4.) Shoulders don't always need to be completely covered provided nothing is going to fall out of your shirt in the process. i.e. bathing suits should cover everything they are supposed to... and nothing should "slip". Likewise panty lines should NEVER be visible- just like I clothing should not be transparent enough to see through. Cause really, I never wanted to know that much about anyone, especially complete strangers. 
5.) Otherwise clothing is fair game.  Clashing, matching, shiny  dull, standard, outdated, and otherwise weird- not a moral choice.  Big earrings, little earrings, no earrings, lots of earrings- not a moral choice.  Long hair, short hair, no hair, blue hair- not a moral choice. Long skirt, short skirt, fitted skirt, loose skirt, pants- not a moral choice. As my roommate from college- Jelly Bean- likes to say, "There's more than a fine line between nun and slut."

I have lots of brothers, lots of cousins, and lots of friends who are, at the core, real men. And that is great. Guys were meant to be guys. God hot wired them to think that women are pretty hot stuff and vice versa. In one of my stupider moments I asked a few of them what they actually think when they see cleavage... or legs... or feminine curves in general. I'd rather not repeat their words but the gist of it was that their minds go exactly where you think it will. And why shouldn't it? You wouldn't give a tiger a piece of meat and then get mad when he starts to eat it. You wouldn't yell at a bee for climbing all over a flower either. It is what they are designed by God to do.

I've had people tell me that I'm just doing this because I am Christian and that I have a lot of obscure, outdated ideas because I went to a series of Catholic schools.  I laugh.  It's not about saving myself for my husband. It's about saving myself. It's about keeping pure what God has made pure. I know I haven't always been the best at that sort of thing. In fact I know that at times I have been downright awful at it. That doesn't mean that I can't grow from my past. And even if God weren't the reason (because, let's face it, he is the reason I do a lot of things) I don't want to be an object. I try to dress modestly as a courtesy to the men I know and the men I don't. I wouldn't want any guy to like me just because of what I look like. 

Yes, it is nice to be appreciated, but it is decidedly unpleasant to be oggled. Yes, fashion has changed over the last few centuries, but the male mind hasn't really changed since Adam. Besides- I like to think that I am so much more than meets the eye.

The Best Man's Best Speech

I was in a wedding over Memorial Day weekend.  It was oodles of fun but the best part was the Best Man's Speech.  For the record, if I ever get married, this is what I want the best man speech to be based upon. (Names changed btw).

KP and Koshka,

We are all here, celebrating with you on this next step of your life together .... bleh, those speeches are so bland. And that is so not you two. Therefore, let’s move on to the important but subtle message that you have sent to us today. And that is that you scheduled your wedding on the International Holiday known the world over as Geek Pride Day.

Now I understand that mother church *and mothers in general* frown on using Star Trek uniforms in weddings, and I do understand that. But I was able to tie in your nuptials with this great holiday by requesting knowledge from some of the greats of the geek genres to guide you on the path of a successful marriage.

First off, Mr. Arthur Dent wishes to convey his happiness to you and reminds you that while there is a “Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy”, there is no “Hitchhiker's Guide to Marriage”. If there were, it would be 20,000 pages long, everyone would insist they had read it when they had done nothing more than read the back page, and it would be filled with far too many references to the Brady Bunch to be helpful. It would, however, have the best advice to offer married couples, written right on the cover in bright red friendly letters, stating simply “DON’T PANIC!”. Arthur also send along a matching set of towels.

Westley and Buttercup give you well-wishes for your “wuv, twoo wuv”. Princess Buttercup wants Koshka to know that despite many trials, (including, but not limited to Rodents of Unusual Size), true love will always win out. And Wesley would like to remind KP that even the Dread Pirate Roberts knows the best answer to anything your beloved says is “As you wish”, which, as we all know, is another way of saying “I love you”. They send a slightly burned giant sized cloak.

I got a message from a rather fashionable fellow a few minutes before the ceremony. “Hello”, he said, ”Passing through and wanted to extend all my best to the lovely couple.” I did not recognize him, so I asked for his name. He replied “The Doctor” as he adjusted his bow tie. “Anyways, please let the bride and groom know I am thinking about them, and to remind them that marriage is like planning to travel across the universe. There’s a lot of things you need, you see. Warp drive… wormhole refractors… But the thing you need most of all is a hand to hold.” He said he’d leave “something blue” for you in the future ... if he remembers.

I got some message here from someone from Fruit’s Basket, but it was in Japanese. When I used Google to translate the message, it just looked like they were shouting random words! This is why I don’t read manga...

I have a note here, from a Mr. Bilbo Baggins, Esquire. It reads, “Greetings and congratulations on your wedding festivities! Truly, the road will go ever on and on for you! Be sure to have a good breakfast every morning, for you never know what adventure might lay outside your door!” He sends along a tea service for 15.

Mr. Harry Potter extends his heartfelt congratulations to the both of you, and reminds you that a parents’ love for each other is only exceeded by their love for their children. In lieu of a gift, Mr. Potter’s expecting to send an owl to your household in about 11 years.

Uncle Ben Parker wanted to remind you that with “great power comes great responsibility”. He doesn’t expect you to develop any amazing “new found powers” (or as Sal would call it, N.F.P.)  excepting for Kat’s supernatural ability to fit into our family so well, and KP’s ability to master so many musical instruments. And yet the grace that you receive through this sacrament should be a source of power for both of you in the years to come.

Finally, we have the indispensable wisdom of Captain Malcolm Reynolds, who sent along two brown coats. He also wishes to remind you that your marriage will be like a ship sailing among the stars, and the thing that keeps the ship afloat is love. “Love is indispensable. You can learn all the math in the 'Verse, but you take a boat in the air without love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of the worlds. Love keeps you in the air when you oughta fall down, tells you there’s a hurt 'fore it keens. It’ll make you two a home.”

KP and Koshka, may the ship of your marriage be a place of joy and love for you, your family and friends for years to come. May God bless you always!

Not really lost.

Whenever you aren't sure where you're going you need to look back at where you have been.

Not just a childhood game

A few weeks ago I was out... with the kids... for a walk... in a graveyard.  The children and I merrily explored the archaic park, and reading the names of people who had died centuries before either of us were born. The General managed to spook a rabbit and send it flying across the graves, barely touching the ground as it skated away.  Napoleon and Attila entertained themselves by picking up and relocating snails, all in the search for empty shells.  I tried to discourage this.  I wasn't too worried about it until Queen Victoria started screaming.

Before I continue I would just like to point out that Victoria has never been a child to scream unnecessarily.  In fact, she is normally rather regal in her attention to presentation, pun intended.  This was not a normal occasion.  

Queen Victoria began racing towards, hollering at the top of her lungs, and nervously searching the ground with her eyes in her haste.  While I considered the oddness of her behavior she ran up to me and wrapped her arms around me. Strangely enough, this was the instance that I realized that something might be amiss. 

"Snake! In the grass!" she gasped.  She eeked. She shrieked.  She pointed to where she was standing and put more distance between her and the legless creature.  

I looked to where she had been wandering and saw the distinct image of a six foot long rattle snake.  At least I think it was a rattle snake.  I did not dare get close enough to confirm this or Victoria would burst into tears.  That and getting bitten on a lazy Saturday morning where I was the "adult" in charge of four smallish children did not strike me as the wisest of decision.  

Suddenly Attila, Napoleon, and the General were right at my side.  

"Snake? In the grass?" Napoleon questioned with big eyes, the delight evident in her questions.  She eeked.  She shrieked.  Victoria pointed to where she had just been and then I caught my youngest goddaughter by the collar before she tried to get a closer look at the offending creature.  

When I was a child I remember playing a game called "snake in the grass" but as near as I can recall the entire point of the game was to scream and run away.  I think I need to teach this game to Napoleon.  She really is a gem but I wish she had greater sense of self preservation and a healthy fear of creatures more dangerous than her. 

Things I wish I could tell my 18-year-old self

This week I was asked to give the son of a friend some advice before he heads off to college.  She wanted something inspiring, something helpful to pass onto him.  Then she asked me, "What would you tell your eighteen-year-old self if you could?"  The more I think about that question the more I get lost in memory.  Eighteen was a good year for me but there are still a few things I wish I had known.  Here are a few things I wish I could tell my eighteen-year-old self.

1.) It won't always be okay; anyone who says differently is lying. 

2.) When you meet bullies, fight back.  Even if it makes waves. 

3.) Brothers are great but brothers won't be around forever. Learn to do the hard things in life yourself. 

4.) Be bold and say what you are thinking. People might like it and if they don't, well, you were never going to be friends with them anyways. 

5.) People with purple hair are always interesting to meet and have long conversations with. Bonus points will be awarded if those people have piercings and tattoos. Having either of these are not a moral choice and some day you will have all of those.  Just not the tattoos... yet.

6.) Wear big earrings. Those homeschooling moms are going to gossip about you whether you dress and act like them or not. Don't sweat it. Some day you will find people who will love you for who you are not what you wear. 

7.) Take care of your phone. By the time you are twenty you will have destroyed eight phones and that is a legacy that you haven't lived down yet.  

8.) On possible boyfriends: if he makes you happy be happy but if he only makes your parents happy move on. Everyone will be disappointed but you won't have to wonder later. 

9.) Don't sweat the small stuff.  A lost earring or a broken shoe is not the end of the world. 

10.) Please learn to talk in front of cute boys, even if you don't think you have a chance with them. Don't hold people at arms length. Don't be mean to boys you have a crush on... it doesn't get easier as you get older. 

11.) It is okay to grieve.  It is okay to be cry.  It is okay to be weak.

12.)  If people don't believe you when you tell them the truth that makes it their problem not yours.  Don't doubt yourself.  If you don't believe you, no one will. 

13.) Cars are not gender biased: please learn about them. Learn how to change a tire, how to check your oil, how to change windshield wipers, how to replace your tail lights, how to put gas in the car.  Just learn. It's easier than asking a stranger when you are in your twenties.

14.)You are awesome. Some day YOU will save a life and someday you won't; that doesn't make it your fault. 

15.) Don't hold a torch for anyone.  People will disappoint you.  You will learn to forgive them and if not move on at least you can let go. 

16.) Call Mama and Daddy every Sunday.  Even when you're mad.  Especially when you're mad. 

17.) Change is inevitable; growth is optional. 

18.) It won't always be okay, but you'll be okay. Happiness is a choice no matter what the predicament. 

The incident with the grocery cart

I have many funny stories from work.  Unfortunately for me I can't tell very many of them.  Equally so I cannot share all of my funny stories from home.  And I am willing to share maybe two funny stories from when I hang out with my friends.  This funny story I can share because

Well, I had a great Tuesday! I went grocery shopping and in my infinite adult wisdom I decided it would be a lovely idea to ride my overly full grocery cart... down a hill... on a ramp.  I assumed I would be perfectly safe because there were guardrails on either side and I could see if anyone was coming.  Okay, maybe I could see a few feet in front of me.  It was exhilarating as I sped down the hill, the wind rippling through my hair, the plastic bags cracking.  What I didn't factor in was that something might fall off the cart, most importantly, me.  

An improperly loading twelve pack fell off the front and where a few seconds before I was flying through the air on my grocery cart, I began to fly through the air sans grocery cart, head over handle bars.  Did I mention that I was also wearing three inch heels at the time.  Don't worry.  By the time I stopped moving, I wasn't wearing my shoes anymore.

And that is how I hurt my ankle, riding a grocery cart.  If there is a boring way to do things I haven't found it yet.

Caffeine Horror Stories

A few weeks ago now an interesting thing happened in our house.  For years Tia has always made the coffee but in recent months I tried to take on this role.  This was largely due to the fact that Susan would be out of the house in the morning and would either make her own coffee or pick some up elsewhere.  This was... catastrophic to my mornings.  

I frequently tell people that I managed to make it through living in California with eight brothers, going to college with a double major, and working four jobs the first year I was in California without drinking more than a half dozen cups of coffee but living with five children made my morning dose of brown lava something of a necessity.  As my youngest goddaughter likes to tell people, "Gabbie is a much nicer person once she's had coffee."  Have I mentioned how adorable she can be?

Anyways, shortly after I started making the coffee, after I stopped making mistakes and actually got it out of the carafe in a timely fashion, after all that, I started having trouble sleeping.  Not that this is really unusual.  Anything from climate change to impending visitors can mess up my nocturnal habits so I really didn't think anything of it... until Tia made the coffee again.

I remember thinking, "mmmm... it doesn't matter how good I get at making the coffee, Tia always makes it better."  

When I asked her why she had started making coffee again she smiled and said, "Because you didn't cut the regular beans with decaf beans."  I stopped and stared, mouth agape. "Have you been having trouble sleeping?" she asked with a cheeky grin.  I blinked and then said, "This explains so much!"  Clearly, no matter how old I get, I will always need someone to check up on me.  

Stupid coffee.