A stamp in my passport, and it says...

Well, not Italy. It says Mexico. The customs guy scared the crap out of me. I felt like a criminal, and even though I did have jewelry and said I didn't (it was $10, not the Diamonds International kinds of stuff), and even though I lied about touching livestock (do pet goats count?), I didn't really have anything to feel guilty about. It wasn't like I was smuggling in knives (cause money can't buy knives). At least I managed to state my name correctly (if I ever take a lie detector, I'm going to fail because they won't be able to get a baseline, I'll be so nervous).

Okay, so customs aside, here's a whirlwind tour of my whirlwind tour of Mexico.

Sailing in Puerto Vallarta--it just doesn't get any better than lying in the sun on a sailboat with a pina colada watching a half dozen dolphins swim alongside while listening to Jimmy Buffett. Unless of course, you add in humpback whales, fresh fruit and sushi, a hysterical tour guide, and a chance to drive said sailboat. Yup, pretty awesome.

Mazatlan--too many highlights. We skipped a tour in favor of letting Elise and her family show us around. We started at a local shrine, frequented by hundreds of thousands of Mexican pilgrims, seeking healing miracles from "ninito Jesus," a statue of the child Jesus blessed by Pius XII. The house is full of gifts for the ninito in thanksgiving for miracles--holy cards, rosaries, pictures, and of course, because it's the child Jesus, toys. Then we celebrated Mass at the cathedral after a quick stop to see the famous cliff divers, hit up the huge downtown market (freshest produce, fish, and meat in the city), had a traditional Mexican lunch of tortillas (the good kind that you get fresh everyday), beans, rice, guac, shrimp, and smoked marlin, and finished the afternoon with a game of soccer on the beach. Heck yes!

What we saw of Cabo San Lucas was from the driver's seat of a Yamaha Rhino, the latest craze in 4-wheeling. Picture a stripped Cherokee crossed with a typical ATV. Add miles of cactus-filled deserts, gorgeous beaches, helmet and goggles, and tons of dirt. It was yet another of my attempts to be James Bond. Total blast, except for the fact that we ran late and they literally had to hold the ship for us as we caught a tender boat back on board 20 minutes after we were supposed to sail.

Not to mention of course, our glorious digs aboard the Carnival Pride. Dancing shows, buffets, gourmet meals, live music, Mary's lucky penny slots, sun decks, mini golf, 24-hour pizza and ice cream (which I controlled myself to one use each), and plenty of Euchre games (more a function of my family than the ship). Michelle and I even attended an art auction, and surprised ourselves by buying a piece each. It was a riot.

I would say the only downside, though it is a fairly significant one, was the lack of Mass onboard, even for Christmas. I think being in the middle of the Pacific qualifies as a travel dispensation, but I missed the Eucharist, and was thrilled to get back tonight for Mass. It's comforting in a way to know that no matter how much fun I'm having, I still miss the ability to receive Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. I'm blessed to be so drawn to it.

So that's the bare bones version, kids. I can't believe we're about to start another year, a year in which I am going to be trying to grow in trust, in many ways. It's an appropriate follow-up to everything I've done this past year and considering everything that's coming my way in the next few months. As always, your prayers are appreciated.

Blessings.

Classic(al)

I am sitting on my couch in my slippers, listening to classical music, which is just wonderful (except for the fact that I should be listening to board review lectures, but I'm not going to let the fact that I should be studying ruin every enjoyable moment from now until April 4th--I set my date today--so hopefully, you won't hear me qualify everything from now on). I love Canon in D. I love that I love it, too, because it makes me feel sophisticated, like riding in on Andrew's shuttle every morning. The classical radio station somehow made college seem more noble and enlightening than it felt at the time, like we were warming up our brains to go conquer the intellectual world. I also laugh at Canon in D because of the YouTube "Pachelbel's Rant" and I did notice that the same 8 quarter notes were played over and over again by the presumably very bored cellists. But it's still beautiful. And I still want to walk down the aisle to it someday.

I saw "The Ultimate Gift" last weekend. Thoroughly enjoyed it. Not going to lie, I thought it would be one of those cheesy, Hallmark movies, but it was surprisingly well-acted, fairly well-written, and very touching. Made me grateful that I wasn't raised by money, that I already have the gifts of friends, hard work, and family, though I wasn't immune from examining my own life either. I recommend it. And now, in other classic film news, I'm off to watch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on my parents' home theater system.

I'll be writing next after a little jaunt up the Mexican coast. Merry Christmas everyone.

Tidings of joy

"Snowflakes fall and decorate these ordered, pristine streets..."

I felt like I was in a movie, driving home last night, snowflakes falling softly on the warmly-lit streets, Christmas music floating out from my car speakers. I love it when my life feels like a movie. Of course, movies never show when you get home and have stacks of board books to page through because your NBSE came back with abysmal results. The thought of my schedule for the next 4 months (not including my glorious Mexican cruise) pretty much depresses me. At least the snow is still beautiful.

"Seems to me you could give the Man upstairs the same benefit of the doubt as you do an invisible fungus."

My favorite episode of Bones was on tonight. Christmas miracles for all. I just smiled through the whole thing...and laughed out loud...by myself...at the tv. Yup. So nerdy.

The Case of Joy

The difference between men and women: (actual quotes from a real live married couple)

Woman: What do you think about it? What do you think about when you think about it? What color is it when you think about it?
Man: I don't really think about it.

Woman: It was a difficult time, there was a lot of strain. We weren't talking as much.
Man: I didn't really notice anything different.

So funny. But in all seriousness, it was from a patient interview today with the parents of two girls (different families) with rare genetic diseases--beautiful, beautiful girls. I really believe that the heartache of knowing your child will not do all the things you always planned for her is balanced by the joy of such an innocent and pure life. I don't think it makes up for it completely, but I do think that all children are a gift, and was happy to see these families realize that.

It was our last PBL of forever. Very sad. We went out with a bang (in a culinary sense, not literally, like last time when Adam dented the ceiling with the champagne cork). I decided my family should have been Swedish so I could have spent my whole life making 7 kinds of cookies on the First Sunday of Advent like they do. Although maybe it's better to have the cookies and still get the Greek last name. We'll go with that.

Sunday musings

I haven't posted in a long time because I was waiting for something "worth writing about" to happen. Well, I have no one event or thought that has inspired a blog-length rant inside my head, but I do want to jot down a few thoughts. Expect this post to be fully random and fulfilling only for me.
*My first parade last night set the standard pretty high. I was one of the handlers for the 60-some-foot-tall Kermit balloon in the Parade of Lights. We got to wear sweet frog hats and had by far the hardest job of anyone in the parade (well, I mean, if you don't count those people throwing fire or playing lots of songs from memory). It was so fun to hear the crowd scream when Kermit "stood up" (after having to go under a traffic light), or when he did a nose dive into a tree and got caught (he was hard to control, okay?). The night was made all the better by the impromptu gathering at Laura B.'s house afterwards--what a great group of people. I love Denver.
*Got to chat with Bre today from Ecuador (well, she was talking from Ecuador; me from my living room). It was so good to hear her voice, and to talk about tons of things, and to get excited about seeing her at graduation in two weeks. Yay for lifelong friends.
*The beginning of Advent...I'm trying to open up my heart so that Jesus can fill it, but I find my heart is distracted by so many things, and that I get more excited waiting for the next "Bones" episode than for the coming of Christ (now, the coming of Christmas is another matter, because it brings the cruise, and that's easy to get excited for). But I decided that this year, I really want to try to focus on preparing my heart and reserving my heart for the coming of Love.
*At the same time, I do love Christmas music. Listening to "Love Has Come" pretty much made my week.
*Saw "August Rush" on Saturday. I really liked it a lot. I think it was a combination of the truly great music, my enjoyment of seeing Keri Russell and Jonathan Rhys Meyers on screen, my love of a happy ending, and again the great music. Sad story though, so many years of longing.
*Brunch with Marian Group today. Yay for cooking together and Christmas music and good food and fellowship.
*Good, good episodes of "House" and "Bones" to finish out the year.

If you haven't seen this yet...you're missing out. If you have, spread the word.

With Hope

A friend's father passed away last week, suddenly, at 62. I was blessed to be able to attend the wake, even though it broke my heart. I just can't think of any other words to describe the tragedy of losing someone so close. I just ached for my friend, not even able to comprehend how you get on without your dad when you're only 25, to know that he's not going to walk you down the aisle when you get married, to try to somehow make it through consoling all the people who supposedly came to console you. I just prayed so fervently, wondering how much I believed what I was saying, "Thank you, Lord for carrying them through this," wondering how even the strongest faith wouldn't crumble under a shock like that. And selfishly, at the same time, I prayed that no one close to me would be taken soon, because as much as I've grown in my faith, I don't know that I could deal with it. Sometimes I think what makes death so hard is that no one knows what to do or say, and we're too afraid of telling people what we really need because it might be asking too much, and it might hurt if they say no, so we end up all alone in a time when we most need each other. I'm not saying I know how to be there for people, but I wish people knew how to reach each other better. We're so good at getting along all by ourselves.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more...I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, God's dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away." The one who sat on the throne said, "Behold, I make all things new." -Rev. 21: 1-5

Also bella

For all their enthusiasm about Bella and future projects, the filmmakers maintain a sense of perspective. Mindful of Mother Teresa’s maxim about faithfulness and success, they regularly downplay the significance of the past or future successes. More than once, and by more than one party, the theoretical possibility of every print of Bella being destroyed and the film never being seen again was cited as a way of emphasizing that there are bigger issues than any one film.

Verástegui made the point this way. While preparing to shoot the film, he revealed, he made a fateful choice: to visit an abortion clinic as research for his role.

“I thought it was going to be very simple,” he said. “I was very naive. I thought I was going to arrive in the morning, with a few papers and a pen… Now, when I arrived that day, I forgot about the film. I was in shock when I saw all these fifteen, sixteen, seventeen-year-old young girls going in. Next thing I saw this little group of people outside, trying to convince them not to do it.”

Approaching the group, Verástegui found himself being asked to talk to a Latino couple who spoke no English. “I had no idea what I was going to say. I was very nervous,” he reported. Then the couple recognized him — from his soap opera roles. “They were from Mexico. Even though I did them ten years ago, they repeat them in television forever.”

Verástegui wound up talking to the couple for the better part of an hour, and gave the mother a miraculous medal. “We talked about life, faith, Mexico, dreams, about everything. I don’t even remember what I said. I gave her a little teddy bear. Next thing you know I said something and she was touched. And she leaves, and she didn’t go inside the clinic. So I told her the next day, ‘Hey, I’m here to help you, anything I can do to help you, if it’s money or whatever. Consider me your friend.’ ”

Shortly after that, Verástegui left for New York to shoot the film. “I came back a few months later,” he continued, “and I received a call. And it was this man who was with her. And he tells me, I have great news. My baby was born yesterday. And I want to ask your permission, because I want to call him Eduardo. And I couldn’t even talk, man.”

Verástegui went to the hospital to visit the couple and their new baby. “It was amazing. I went to the hospital and met the baby, and carried him in my arms — the way how he was looking at me, and I was calling him Eduardito, and I was singing, dancing with him. It changed my life completely. Because I didn’t plan to do that. I just thought I was going to do my research as an actor. I never thought that by the grace of God I was going be used as an instrument to say something to this young lady to touch her heart. And the next thing you know I’m dancing with Eduardito.

“If this film tomorrow disappears and it burns and nobody sees it again,” he concluded, “the fact that one baby is alive by the grace of God, I will rejoice in the Lord.”

From a Catholic World Report article...http://decentfilms.com/sections/articles/bella.html

Holiness

I often envision the saints as holy men and women so far beyond our reach, thinking, "Sure, I could be holy if I didn't have to do my chores and study all the time and worry about staying in touch with everyone and remembering to fill up my gas tank." We get the idea that they just prayed all the time and worked miracles and lived on a plane so far above us, that their example seems unattainable. This is why I am so struck by St. Gianna. Maybe it's because she lived recently, or because she was a pediatrician, or because her love letters are very human and very real, but whatever the reason, she seems more like a friend than an icon. But if we took time to look, the rest of the saints can be that for us as well. Imagine a young man, a future writer whose greatest work was to be inspired by the tragic death of his closest friend at a young age; he would spend many years writing and traveling. Imagine a girl who grew up in a wealthy home, an avid reader, fell in love, got married, and became a mother of five; her husband died at a young age, and she became a convert to Catholicism and a teacher until her death at 46. Imagine a soldier, captured by the enemy, but refusing to renounce his beliefs; he is tortured, left for dead, and nursed back to health by a local woman, only to be beaten to death once he continues his assignment. These, too, are saints--John, Elizabeth Ann Seton, Sebastian--who had at once very ordinary lives and extraordinary holiness. Why? Because they knew that God had called each of them to something different, but that he calls all of us to Him. They found their greatness, but it wasn't because they were superhuman; it was because they learned to live their daily, sometimes boring lives, with devotion and love. In Marian group, we're talking about finding our greatness. I haven't discovered the answer yet, but I don't think it's beyond any of us. Happy All Saints Day.

Rally afghans and Lonestar make me Hawpe-y

I just wanted to put in a quick note to say that even though I was very sad for the Rockies to lose on Sunday, and embarrassed that we got swept so badly, I had so much fun watching the game with Anna, Rachelle, and company. We crammed as many people on the couches as possible (I crammed as much guac as possible) and just had a blast. It was exactly what I needed to have great company and a good game. So thanks ladies!

Sunday

Over the shoulder passes, interceptions, Denver skyline, Ceili Rain, coffee, VI brunch (when was the last time that happened?), caramel apples, walks in the park...

Bella

"True love is more than romance." Love that stands by even when it hurts, praying silently, urgently for Love to find its way in. Opening up your life to see what love is about, how beautiful and tragic things can be, but never alone. Never alone. The more I see brokenness, the more I glimpse what is really inside , the more I'm convinced that all we can really do is try to love one another, to bring each other to Love. We can't fix the brokenness, but we can see past it, we can live through it, really live.

Rockies are calling, Denver snow falling

I woke up this morning to gorgeous snow coating the red and green trees outside the window, which in true Colorado fashion melted to blue skies by the afternoon, in time to celebrate October with the girls of "Trinity Cottage." Beer brats, homemade apple pie, and pumpkin cookies filled the table and apple cider and "vino verde" from Portugal filled our glasses. But the real treat was courtesy of Matt and Emily at the piano, belting out everything from "A Whole New World" to "The Sound of Music" to "Be Thou My Vision." SO good. Then we had a sing along with "My Heart Will Go On" and "Lean on Me." I'm almost convinced to buy a piano just so that I can invite people over to play it. I'm promised a return invitation for when Christmas Caroling time rolls around.

It was a light-hearted ending to a heavy week, during which I dealt with alcoholism, HIV, and abortion first hand, and also started reading "Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust" (read it! It is one of the most powerful books I've ever read). There is a lot of brokenness in this world, a lot of heartache, a lot of searching for something to fulfill us and coming up empty. But there is also life--beautiful, miraculous life, and grace and joy beyond what we could ever hope to deserve. To contemplate the love of God that was so real it became present in the creation of each one of us, that God planned each of us since the beginning of time, that He watches over us--it leaves me speechless. And to think that we turn our backs on Him so easily, that humanity has rejected this love and decided to seek salvation amidst individualism and hedonism under the guise of tolerance and freedom. What a fake freedom. And I'm not sure what my role in all of it is. I know it's not enough to be upset and rant about it. Paul says to persevere, whether it is convenient or inconvenient, and Jesus says to be persistent in prayer, but that's the only answers I have for now.

Side note: Transformers--go see it. It's excellent. Really sad the Red Sox won the penant, but the way the Indians played these last few games, they didn't exactly deserve it. At least I won't be sad in any way to crush the Sox--go Rockies! I'm only missing the game on Wednesday because I'll be at the David Crowder concert. Hazzah!

My name is Laura, and I'm a normy

That's the name alcoholics give to those of us who are not. I attended my first AA meeting today (as an observer for a class), and found myself feeling very welcome. "Hi, Jim" and "Thanks, Jim" everytime someone talked. I feel like we should all acknowledge each other so much. In all truthfulness, 28 Days got it pretty right. The sharing and the repetition and the friendships and the falling down and the getting back up. AA is an interesting program, simple on the surface, odd to an observer, but very effective, very forgiving, very supportive. I'm grateful that today I was given a precious glimpse into the tragedy of alcoholism. As they said, it is a cunning disease, and the mind games that go on as one tries to achieve sobriety are impressive. It robs people of a life of dignity as they gradually lose their jobs, their families, and their control. One member said she initially felt like she was an animal at a zoo, being judged as a non-alcoholic observed her. "We're not losers." As they each talked, I could see the beauty of a life that was striving for freedom. Two had tried to commit suicide recently. One had never gotten past 29 days sober though she'd been coming for months. One started drinking at age 8. I just found myself watching them and smiling. They had given up their pride to admit they were powerless, but they were clinging to a hope that they could change. I found myself praying for them, seeing Jesus in them. It's so easy to hear "alcoholic" and to make a blanket judgment, and yes, some of these people fit that profile--homeless, jobless, criminals--but many of them were "normys" to an outsider--fathers, mothers, people you would actually smile at if you passed them on the street instead of averting your eyes. I hope I am different because of this. I hope I can better help an alcoholic that walks through my door, but I also hope I can see Jesus in the next person I see sitting on a street corner.

Hey Byrnes...

Stick me on the bandwagon, man. This is fun!!! It's been a while since Colorado brought home a championship, so I forgot what it's like. And I forgot how fun baseball could be, since I faded with the Rockies records after 1995. Yelling at the TV, memorizing stats, joking about luck and kitty litter and matching reds, remembering the 6-4-3 lingo, holding your breath as the runner crosses the bag, eating brownie sundaes and Imperial rolls (for Matsui)--yeah, this is fun. I find that although I've long since good-willed my Rockies clothes, I can still pen out the logo from memory, and I'm re-learning our roster slowly. This could make Denver a baseball town again.

And for John--go Indians (and because Manny Ramirez's pants are too big).

Still laughing

For all those who have ever sat for far too long watching the DVD logo waiting for it to exactly hit the corner...I freaking love The Office.

Of human life

As weird as Bones was last night (and it was weird!), the final scene was surprisingly uplifting. Booth said it in a way that didn't seem prudish or medieval or defensive, which is how Catholic sexual ethics often appear because of improper presentation. But when the truth about human love is presented as the beautiful way things were meant to be, something that our current society has merely perverted, then we can see how right the Church is and how far we've strayed from something so miraculous.

Booth: Here we are, all of us basically alone, separate creatures, just circling each other, all searching for the slightest hint of a real connection. Some look in the wrong places, some give up hope because in their mind they’re thinking oh there’s just nobody out there for me. But all of us keep on trying over and over again. Why? Because every once in a while, every once in a while, two people meet and there’s that spark. And, yes, Bones, he’s handsome and she’s beautiful, and maybe that’s all they see at first. But making love? Making love … that’s when two people become one.

Brennan: It’s scientifically impossible for two objects to occupy the same space.

Booth: Yeah, but what’s important is we try. And when we do it right … we get close.

Brennan: To what? Breaking the law of physics.

Booth: Yeah, Bones. A miracle.

Glory...

Finally finished Neuro today. Felt like forever. I really did learn a lot, and I think I can say this was the best-directed block in many ways. I'm going to miss our crazy brain surgeon of a professor who literally left someone on the table this afternoon to come ref our football game. He didn't even have to give us 5 downs, we killed them all by ourselves. I don't know if you understand how much I LOVE to play football. It always helps when you start off dressed in blue street camouflage and eye black, so you already look like a gang of thugs. Add our awesome cheerleaders who aren't afraid to don pink Target skirts and wigs, and a grand entrance courtesy of Geoff's limo (no, seriously), and there's no way we could have lost. Of course, we're also very good. And I love that I get to play every position except center (coach, QB, lineman, linebacker, wide receiver, corner back, punter), that I got a passing and receiving TD (and an almost safety, darn!), and that Jaime drew a late-hit to give us a key first down with under two minutes to play. Now that was a sweet thing to watch. I love play-calling from the sidelines and yelling out instructions and getting handed water by our wonderful water boys. The whole thing, I love it. And I love that I have another game on Sunday for ND Blue. Yay for football. I've said this before, but football is the sport of glory. Every play has the potential for highlight reel greatness, and you feel like you're on the jumbotron even if it's just powderpuff because that's how glorious it is.

Hope-less

So sad. So, so sad. Also, slightly mad, but if I get myself into too much of a rant, I will have a hard time studying. Suffice it to say I think Greg Ryan needs a severe talking-to, Hope Solo needs some ice cream, and Shannon Boxx needs a complete do-over and some severe retribution (the ref needs a career change...I'm completely serious. I think she should follow tradition of refs who red card US women and never work again). Sad because it shouldn't have been so one-sided, because games shouldn't be decided by red cards and own goals, because starting keepers should stay that way, because I really like this team, because I'm not getting up at 3 am to watch a third place finish, because I can't bring myself to root for Brazil, even though I don't want Germany to double up on World Cups.

And sad because even a win couldn't have lifted my spirits enough this week with school weighing me down. I'm so far behind.

At least tomorrow brings a fun birthday party. Good thing I have other people to provide my social life.

Also, I promised a post-Omaha update. Here's the skinny: I'm a super proud big sister because Mary rocks my face off and got two starts and two great games, had a great lunch at the boatyard, good times at Theodore and Wallace's, and the joy of watching the US blank England 3-0, lot of good it did them. All in all, good trip, put me WAY too far behind. Back to work.

Make a joyful noise

Whoa, it's been a rough week. LOTS of studying, lots of stress. But now I'm riding the post-test high, which will continue at least until Monday, because I left before they posted grades, so as far as I know, I honored. Haha, probably not, but at least it's not hanging over my head and I can look forward to the weekend. Holy cow, I'm so excited for Omaha! Soccer homestand, seeing friends and Mary and Michelle, not worrying about school for the weekend. Hazzah! I'll update you on our adventures when I get back, once I've caught up from the school I'm missing. On a bummer note, my bike got squished up in the bike rack and the rear brake is jacked up, so I gotta take that in today to get it fixed. Also today is Kelly's AHS vball game--she's pretty much the star, so I'm excited. What talented family I have.

Last night I had my first night at the Warren Village clinic. We only saw one patient because it was a slow night, but I still enjoyed myself. I still have a lot to learn (or more like a lot to remember, because I already know lots, but I psych myself up and forget it), but it's amazing how much a difference a year makes. I worked with a first year student, and he did great, but it's encouraging to see how far I've come from that deer-in-the-headlights place. I felt totally confident in examining our patient and talking to his mom and grandma, giving shots, etc. He was super cute. I showed him the pupillary reflex on me (he was super interested in all of our tools) and he was like "Whoa! How does it do that?" He drew a cute picture of him being a cop when he grows up, and he wanted Spiderman bandaids for his shots. How could I want to do anything other than pediatrics? What a great job! I'm glad we had a slow night for my first time, and I'm looking forward to going back.

Okay, more after Omaha. Hope you're all doing well.

Whatever it takes

Mike Shanahan is my freaking hero. I know it's a dirty trick, but he successfully iced Janikowski in an unbelievable end to what shouldn't have even been a close game. I watched in disbelief as the team I hate the most in all of professional sports won the game in our house and then had it snatched back from them. I had to call Michelle to make sure it was really happening. But it worked. I can't believe he hit the pole on the second try after nailing a 65-yarder in warm-up. And then Elam once again became the hero (although, like last week, it shouldn't have gotten to the point of needing a hero).

Mary got the start today, and I would very much like to rub it in Bruce's face that when he benches my sister, they lose, and when she starts, they win. At least other people took notice also.

"[S]ophomore transfer Mary Zapapas added two shots on goal in her first start as a Bluejay. 'I thought Mary Zapapas put in a good game for us in the midfield,'" (said head coach Bruce Erikson)."

So I'm watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition, only while I eat dinner, and of course, it's emotional. The mom was shot and paralyzed at about T3 (just below armpit level) while in the line of duty as an LAPD officer. Made me realize how many people sacrifice so much without any recognition. I'm happy to have a reminder every now and then.

Renewal

Really good Mass tonight, always helps to open with a Fr. Roc song. But mostly the readings. About forgiveness and God's relentless pursuit of His loved ones. It still never ceases to amaze me that I am among those. Many times I have been the one He had to go after, when I was lost amid thorns and rocks. And when He finds me, He showers me with mercy, not guilt. Now I feel like one of the 99, and as He goes after another one, we both know that I'm staying put, right where I belong. I had been feeling like maybe my relationship with God was waning because I hadn't had any recent rescues, but now I know that I can be just as much His whether I'm safe in the flock or the subject of His search. And it's much less trying to be safe in the flock. Not to say I won't ever wander off again, but we'll let tomorrow worry about itself. How comforting to know that our Shepherd is constantly after our hearts.

Man will not suffice

I saw “The Jeweler’s Shop” last Saturday, put on by Theophany, a Catholic theater company. I’m wishing I had the play in front of me to read again, and again, and again. A member of the cast said it’s like Scripture—anyone can read it and anyone can get something out of it, but the more you read it, the more you get. Though I had read it before, and certainly got something out of watching it, I was grateful for their comments which they shared after the final act. The second act chorus talks about a fire which ignites with oil, but eventually survives on water, a water which we protect ourselves from by wearing “high-heeled shoes” (even Karol Wojtyla wasn’t beyond laughing at women’s obsessions). The problem is, the fire (love) can and must start with oil (passion), but must ultimately be fed by water (grace), which seems counter-intuitive. How can the two co-exist? Furthermore, we “protect” ourselves from grace by trying to close the gap between men and women out of fear or shame—in Teresa’s case, wearing high heels to make herself closer in height to Andrew—instead of trusting in our complementarity. I know, pretty heavy for something like high heels. What I’m trying to figure out is if our generation is truly deceived into thinking that passion and grace are opposed. Certainly we’ve been influenced greatly by Theology of the Body, which was of course written after this time. Perhaps this was the beginnings of an “adequate anthropology.” Too, I’m amazed at how one man knew so much, could be so much, and do so much. He was philosopher, poet, actor, playwright, outdoorsman, priest. I’m grateful for the influence he has had, for I truly believe that we are the JPII generation, having been encouraged, challenged, and believed in by one of the greatest saints to ever live. Nonetheless, like Christopher and Monica in the final act, we all have our own baggage, our own experiences of love and marriage and family and commitment, our own notions of passion and grace, our own fears about being too short without high heels, about not wanting to get our feet wet, our own desperate hopes for a future of love and forgiveness. “The future depends on love.”

Fudge at altitude

Dad and I hiked Pikes Peak today, which sounds fairly normal to me when I say it, but based on the reaction we got from the dozens of out-of-towners at the top who had driven or taken the railroad up, you'd think we were world class athletes. They were amazed. I even got asked if my CamelBak had oxygen in it. Not to mention the lady that sat next to us and talked, uninvited, for 10 minutes straight, covering topics from the government's involvement in Crazy Horse to her motorcycle accident to the price of visiting national parks to her grandson at the Academy. She barely took a breath and finally her daughter rounded her up so we could get on our way. She, too, was impressed with our hike. "You have to train hard for that, right?" Seriously, not that hard. However, it was a steep, steady hike, 4 hours up, 2 1/2 back, and we were hauling. We did stop for a snack at Devil's Playground, a rock formation that ricochets lightning, and were passed by a young man singing loudly to his ipod, "Will you marry me?" Not joking. And the fudge at the top was delightful. Even without all that, I think this was my favorite hike yet, just perfect going up through the forests, past mountain streams, over boulder fields, gorgeous views the whole way up (no panorama at the top because it's so big, and there's a gift shop blocking the view), etc. I think I stopped every several hundred feet and said, "Wow." God truly outdid Himself when He made Colorado. If anyone wants to go next year, I'm up for a repeat. No oxygen needed.

Buon pranzo

Last night I not only got to meet the legendary Fr. Ken Leone, but I also experienced the closest thing to an authentic Italian dinner this side of Tuscany. It was beyond words, but I will try. At our neighbors', we sat around with wine and hors d'oeuvres chatting while fragrant aromas floated out from the kitchen, which is painted, I kid you not, "Tuscan." Dinner was phenomenal, and passed around the table like it should be--chicken marsala, green beans from the garden, tomato mozzarella salad with fresh basil, real Italian bread (not french bread toasted with garlic salt and butter), and really good red wine. Everything was so perfect, three steps beyond your normal spaghetti-and-meatballs-Italian dinner. Fr. Leone led us in a rather unusual conversation involving the gifts we saw in each other and times we had experienced God's presence, and we closed with a healing prayer service (I love the smell of chrism). But I loved it. The whole experience. I told our hostess I couldn't have gotten a better Italian dinner in Italy, and I meant it. Of course, her family is from Tuscany, so what did you expect? I'm so going there someday, and they're going to plan my trip for me! My heart truly is Italian! Apparently so is my stomach.

Best male singer, dead: Dean Martin

So I know I watched Return to Me for like the 17th time (and I'm trying not to exaggerate), but watching it with someone who has never watched it is like watching it for the first time (only I don't get quite as sad as the real first time). I knew Rachelle was going to like it when she said at the beginning, "Is there a lot of dancing in this movie, because that's going to make me sad." It meant we were on the same page...no one to dance with. That's okay, great movie, especially the dancing! (Or is what I feel the real McCoy?) But I decided, amidst the many peals of laughter, that basically I want to marry someone exactly like Bob Rueland (except perhaps a bit younger, because I'd like to get married soon).

Consider the following:
"You look tall." -Dan the Man, about Bob. Tall is always good.
"I'm going to build Sydney's new home, with or without the money." -showing he's hard working, dedicated, and cares about his wife
"I promise we'll take a trip to Italy." -his wife...I SO want to go to Italy
"I'll take a cup of coffee, no straw." -very funny, very, very funny (I'll stick with just one quote on that subject), and also nice to waitresses (you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat those who serve them)
"I wasn't looking!" -not after women just for looks
"Come on, you can stand on my shoes." -likes to dance, and doesn't care if I don't know how to dance
"We were thinking of going to one of those water-theme parks for the weekend." -Okay, I know I said I was done with funny, but it deserved another mention. Also, doesn't buy in to all that ritzy life-style better-than-everyone-else crap (but remember, still wants to go to Italy)
"This one had your name all over it." thoughtful, observant, and spontaneous (see also, "I got you some hot chocolate. I thought you might be cold."
"I'll have that." any man that likes ravioli specials is good in my book
"I didn't know Bob bowled." "He doesn't." It's better if I can beat him at something
"I'm a dog person." enough said
Plus, to top it off, he put up with all the crazy Catholics in the movie. I'm sure I could come up with more, but I have to study for my test or something.

So, if you or someone you know fits the above criteria, just know that I'm looking. And if you haven't seen this movie, for the love, just see it. Now! And try to enjoy it a few dozen times until you start overanalyzing it like I do.

Cuddle, cuddle

I met the cutest boy yesterday. Don't get too excited; he's 3. His name is Frankie, and he has autism. Curly brown hair past his chin, big bright eyes, and clutching a pillow shaped like an eight, he had no qualms at meeting a stranger, and was surprisingly outgoing. Nonetheless, he freaked out when he walked into the interview room with 20 people watching. "People go away! People go away!" Big tears sprang to his eyes, which were now even wider than they were before. Mom pulled him up on her lap and sang the "Cuddle, cuddle" song, after which he was calm enough to say "Sit in purple chair" (I think all three year olds sound the same when they say "puh-puhl"). Then he turned to me and said "Hi, Lowa" so nonchalantly, and I wanted to scoop him up then and take him home. I think you have to have some knowledge of how difficult it is for kids with autism to respond in social interaction to get an idea of how remarkable the whole thing was. In the middle of the interview with his mom, Frankie was drawing on the dry erase board, getting rather close to the wall, and I said loudly, "Frankie." And he looked at me and moved his marker back to the board. "Thank you." When his mom said, "Frankie, time to leave" after an hour of her talking and him playing, he responded, "Two more minutes," mimicking her words from earlier when he was getting into the cupboards. He laughed and laughed, unusually pleased to be the center of attention. "Bye, Frankie" I said as I was leaving. "Bye, Frankie," he mimed back as kids with autism do. "That's not my name," I said with a smile. "Bye, Lowa" he smiled back, again a huge accomplishment. I just melted. I was on a cloud the rest of the day. I don't know if I'm being drawn to a specialty involving developmental disabilities, but I know I am grateful for my exposure to kids with autism over the past 7 months and am excited for any chance to meet more in my future clinical experiences. Our lectures this morning made it painfully aware how big of a problem autism spectrum disorders still are, and I'm glad for my exposure thus far and whatever gains I can make because of it. If you ever get a chance to work with kids on the spectrum, do it. They're incredible, and they never stop surprising you.

You're supposed to be the leading lady in your own life

I feel like I was this summer. It was perfect, for all practical purposes. I had tons of fun, did all the things I always feel like I should do but never make a priority, saw lots of friends, etc, etc. And although I suppose I like school, I rather regret the way it makes me feel, all apathetic and despairing that I'll ever learn it all, so why even try to do anything but cram because it's worked in the past. And then I get mad at myself for giving in, and it's just downhill from there. I guess I feel a little less in control when I'm in school. Not in a good "God is in control" way, but in a way that makes me wonder every day if this is really what I'm supposed to be doing, because who in their right mind becomes a doctor, and who am I to think that I'll ever be good enough to do it? Except it's what my heart yearns for, and I just have to trust that if it is right, I'll be able to do it. Course I also can't just wait for them to figure out learning by osmosis, so I suppose I should get back to the books, or the websites, or whatever learning methods the higher-ups have decided to shoulder us with.

Also, The Holiday was highly enjoyable the second time around.

Also, happy Feast of the Assumption (tomorrow)

Summer Highlights

Well, summer is winding down, and since this is my last summer, I know I’ll be looking back on it fondly and longingly. Thought it might be nice to have a written record to help my memory.

Top Ten Summer 2007 Highlights, in no particular order

10. The top of the world…I’ve always lamented that I never took advantage of the mountains growing up, a mistake I more than made up for this summer. I knocked 4 more 14ers off the list (Grays, Torreys, Quandary, and Sherman), bringing my grand total to 7 so far. There’s still nothing like the summit, and the hikes up aren’t too shabby either. We even saw several mountain goats on our way up Quandary. And we were joined on two occasions by family from Indiana, which made the hike all the more special.

9. Going to the chapel…by the end of this week, I will have attended 4 weddings this summer (and had another invite that I was out of town for). The first one had me standing up as Maid of Honor for a good high school friend, which was an incredible experience—fun, moving, stressful, fulfilling, etc. My cousin, former roommate, and two good friends also tied the knot. Marriage is an amazing gift and to see two people embark on such a journey is inspiring. Plus, I’m always up for good food and good dancing. Still having trouble meeting all those single guys for which weddings are so famous.
   

8. Back to the lab…One of my jobs this summer had me back to the anatomy lab to serve as a TA for the physical therapy and PA students. It wasn’t as hard as I thought to return to cadavers, although I had forgotten far more than I’d hoped from when I did anatomy. The students were awesome and grateful for any help we offered, and it gave me a great chance to brush up on all those nerves, etc. Of course, coming in to set up for exams at 6 am was a little challenging, but at least our instructor provided the bagels. It proved to be a great way to spend my time away from classes.

7. Indiana, my Indiana…the annual trip back to Indy was exactly what I needed this summer. After hitting up my cousin’s wedding, we had 2 days out on the lake, boating, tubing, swimming, jet-skiing, and lounging. And of course plenty of family time, a game of Euchre (not the first time I’ve lost 10-0), lots of reading, and lunches out. We also had an afternoon of nostalgia going through boxes and boxes of pictures and memorabilia of my grandparents and my mom’s whole family growing up. My mom dubbed herself “valedictorian dorkhead” looking at the pictures of her 8th grade graduation, so you can see where I get it from.

6. Harry Potter…well, you knew it had to come up sooner or later. With the 5^th movie and the 7^th and final book coming out this summer, I had plenty to look forward to from the wizarding world. Neither disappointed. Kelly, Dad, and I hit up the midnight showing at the IMAX in 3-D. We got there 4 hours early and marveled at all the costumes and hype. Dad and Kelly were even interviewed for the news. I smiled through the whole movie, which seemed way too short. Come July 21^st, Kelly and I were busting at the seams for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. We sat up in the living room until 1:30 in the morning, each with our own copy, devouring the hundreds of pages. I won’t spoil anything (but seriously, what are you waiting for?), but I will say that I loved every page, and am halfway through reading it again (I’d finish if Dad would give me the book back). It was awesome!

5. In addition to the hiking mentioned earlier, I got to spend 3 weekends enjoying the mountains on trips to Vail, Estes Park, and camping. I was joined on my first 2-night campout by three friends and we had a blast. The weekend was made complete by 4 s’mores, 2 deer sightings, and some mad lumberjacking action to get firewood. In Estes Park, we stopped by Laura’s Homemade Ice Cream and Candies to get dessert, which capped off a weekend full of awesome food and family time as we celebrated mom and dad’s 30^th anniversary. And my trip to Vail showed me the charm of mountain towns as I ate at the Route 6 Café, hit up the farmer’s market, and shopped in a consignment shop called Holy Toledo.

4. Riding…and riding…and riding…Dad and I trained for several weeks before embarking on the MS150, a 2-day, 158-mile bike tour in Colorado to raise money for the National MS Society. We were riding in support of some very good friends with MS, and were supported by so many wonderful people, both financially and with prayers. I won’t pretend it wasn’t exhausting and challenging and that I wished for the finish line many times, but I’m so glad I did it for many reasons—the time spent with my dad, the physical challenge and being able to say I completed it, and knowing that we were riding for a great cause. Thanks to everyone who supported us!

3. Definitely not Rain Man…I’ve continued my autism research this summer, running two of our therapy groups to treat anxiety in kids with autism. It’s been a joy and a challenge again to work with them, as they are creative, funny, smart, and off-the-wall behaviorally. I’ve also gotten to participate in some autism training regarding diagnosis and intervention in kids with autism, which was very helpful and interesting from a clinical standpoint. And yes, we did get to watch a clip of Rain Man. Having worked with kids with autism for several months now, I have a huge appreciation for how brilliant Dustin Hoffman was. Definitely…definitely deserved the Oscar.

2. Ole, ole, ole, ole…Professional soccer hit the limelight in Colorado this year as the Rapids moved to a brand new state-of-the-art stadium, donned new uniforms, and hosted the All-Star game. I’ve been fortunate enough to hit up two games so far, with another planned next week. There are no words to express how much I love watching good soccer (and this soccer has been good!) and how focused I get during the games. I went to one game with a friend of mine who had our whole sideline chanting “Ugo!” everytime defender Ugo Ihemelu touched the ball. It was a blast!

1. Touchdown!...I have to throw in flag football as my final highlight. Last spring I joined a co-ed team in Denver that I heard about from a friend of mine, and we have continued playing in the summer league. First of all, the team is mostly Notre Dame grads, so they’re super nice people. And secondly, I live for flag football; even a broken toe didn’t sideline me. It’s actually a fairly competitive league, and our team is pretty good, so I love it. Of course it always adds to the enjoyment that I’m the go-to girl and get to score one or two touchdowns a game, but whatever.

So that’s it guys, my summer in a nutshell. I’ve also moved to a new apartment, which I really like, although I haven’t seen my roommate much since we’ve been trading vacation time. I’m nervous about school starting, since I know it will once again swallow up all my free time. Your prayers are always appreciated, especially this semester for discipline and perseverance in my studies. Don’t know when the next update will be, so until then….Adios!

Father, may they be one just as We are one

On Friday, I attended the most beautiful wedding. I can't say specifically what touched me so deeply, besides that it was everything the Sacrament of Marriage should be. Being there, I truly felt God's presence. Jamila was just radiant, the perfect bride, and how cute was it that Josh was the one wiping his tears away after her vows. Psalm 23 was sung beautifully and hauntingly in Arabic, which made me wish I was Arabic, just so I could do that at my wedding. I didn't realize how perfectly the readings fit the sacrament until Fr. Michael's homily, but they were just that...perfect. All of this isn't even counting the crazy fun of the reception where the dancing began even before dinner. The whole thing made me so happy for Jamila and Josh, excited for my friends who are married or who are getting married, and also made me impatient for my own wedding, whenever that blessed day might finally arrive. I tell myself that I'm content, and I truly am being more patient with God's timing than I thought I would be able to, but if I met someone tomorrow, it sure wouldn't be too soon. I guess ultimately it comes down to the fact that marriage is a foretaste of heaven, the closest we get here on earth to the great wedding feast, and I just get so excited about that, whether it's me or someone else.

On a side note (seems I can't write an entry without a side note), I just finished a book called Dear and Glorious Physician, about the tumultuous life of St. Luke before he wrote his gospel. Not only was the medical part of it well-researched and fascinating, the personal relationships touching, but the desperate search for God reminded me how much God desires each of us and showers us with gifts beyond our recognition. If you get a chance to read it, do. It's worth it.

All was well.

I didn't think I would get so excited over it. But as Friday afternoon rolled around and I found myself wandering through Barnes and Noble, the displays started to really excite me. I got home and grabbed Kelly by the shoulders--"I'm so freakin' excited!" I think we weirded out the 10 people staying with us that night. I guess after 6 books, countless pages, countless hours invested, it seems like their world is somewhat real. It feels like I know them, and that takes a talented author.

I wasn't even going to start the book until today because I had too much unpacking to do, but Saturday night rolled around and I found myself at my parents' house with a rather tempting looking package on the counter and not much else on my schedule. The cover is beautiful, and Kelly pointed out that it's interesting that the other covers got darker and more sinister while this one was full of warm, bright colors. I love it. I was only going to read for an hour and a half. I don't know who I was kidding. I was up until 1:20 and then finished it during breakfast the next morning. Six hours total.

I won't ruin it for those of you who haven't read it. In fact, I want to read it again soon just to cement it in my head. But it was wonderful. More intricate than I would have thought, but not more than I should have expected. More than a few surprises, but a few things I had already guessed. It was a fitting end to a 10 year journey. It seems weird that I would get so wrapped up in so-called children's books, and it's hard to justify with words. My love for reading only goes so far to explain it. I'm sure Jo's talent goes much further. So well-thought-out from the beginning, which is part of why I love it, because I love mystery and conspiracy and detailed plans. Truly a marvelously told story.

Give her hell from us, Peeves.

A little more

What I do I don't want to do and so goes the story...

Show me grace.

Sorry, that's all I can do for now.

Crazy? I was crazy once...

Some numbers for you...158 miles, $2,600, 13 hours, 8,500 calories burned...probably 8,500 calories eaten.

I know why Lance always threatened to quit after the Tour, and why he decided it wasn't a good idea to make that decision right after crossing the finish line, or probably within a month of doing it. I'm exhausted. I'm not even sure it's the good kind of exhausted. If I had known what I was getting myself into in terms of the number and severity of the hills, would I have done it? Even knowing why I was doing it? I don't know. And I'm sure much of that is the pessimism speaking, which weighed on my most of yesterday and nearly all of today, with the brief exception of riding by a church bulletin board that said "Stop worrying." So I did. But that didn't stop the pain. If this is the kind of pain and hopelessness that MS sufferers experience, then it was all worth it. Worth it to feel it for them, worth it to bring awareness, to honor them, to raise money for a cure, etc. I'm thinking I didn't mentally and spiritually prepare for this battle...at least that's a better excuse than "I'm a negative, selfish, weak person." Because that's how I felt on the ride. Imagine doing squats for 10 minutes straight (or better yet, do it), and then imagine taking your bike up 285 several miles and you'll gather some semblance of what my quads felt like. And it's hard to stay mentally strong when you see the next hill, or the grown men walking their bikes up said hill, or thinking that geez, you still have 60 miles left.

However, am I proud to say I did it? Of course. Were there miles where I thought, man I love doing this, I could do it all day long? Few and far between, but yes. Was it uplifting to see over 3,000 riders together for the same cause, to see the names of their heroes pinned to their backs and to know they, too, were riding for someone special? Definitely. Was I so glad to be done? You have no idea.

On a nearly completely unrelated note, we went to Carrabba's for dinner last night to fuel up for the ride ahead. Always sit at the pasta bar...well, unless you're planning on having hours of deep conversation with your dinner companions. But at least once, do it. You're seated right away, even on a night with a 35 minute wait. You get to watch them make pizzas and flaming mussels. You get appetizers on the house, great service, great food, and plenty of it, and the chef will even tell you that it's the kahlua and rum that make the tiramisu taste like that (the people next to us had it, not us). Thoroughly enjoyable, which you probably saw coming because my love for food is no secret. Also, officially now, chicken canneloni is my favorite Italian dish, and that's saying something, since I've decided that though I'm 1/8 Greek, 1/8 Irish, and nearly 3/4 German by blood, I'm pretty much 100% Italian by heart. And stomach.

I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart

Tomorrow is my parents' 30th anniversary, yay for them. We spent the weekend in Estes Park celebrating, and I have to say that I enjoyed myself quite a bit. Lots of good food, good hiking, my funny mother who thinks ducks aren't birds, and The Godfather. What's not to love? It's weird to think of my parents BC (before children). The stories we get to hear are few and far between, and that's unfortunate, because I think it's important, at least for me, to be able to picture my parents in my shoes now, a young adult, discerning my vocation. To hear my mom tell stories of my dad, she thought he was both wonderful and totally dorky, which is a fairly valid assessment I think.

This morning the priest at Mass was talking about vocations, and it was more the subject matter than anything specific that he said, but I found myself wondering if the reason I haven't discovered my vocation (besides not praying enough) is because I still don't trust God with it. I thought I did, but every time I think about taking a step towards married or single life (I have at least discerned the religious life is not for me), I hesitate. I neither trust that God can bring someone into my life who will love me enough to marry me and fulfill all of my seemingly insurmountable expectations, nor do I trust that if I am called to be single, God can make me truly happy. So I guess that's what I take to prayer. Maybe once I learn to trust, God's plan will just fall into place. Because at least I have faith enough to believe that He does have something incredible in store for me. I just don't know what it is yet.

Lauralai-Joy-Joy

Ironic that my most real practice at being a doctor so far came while pretending to be a nurse. However, I was dubbed "the best nurse ever" so I can't have done too bad a job. The Challenge Summer Camp was in need of a camp nurse from Tuesday night through Wednesday night. Bored med student on summer break to the rescue. I proved myself rather adept at smearing Neosporin on Band-aids and telling girls to lie down and sip water. Things every mom should know how to do. However, my presence was appreciated by one mom whose twin girls were both on a beta-blocker for long QT syndrome. I was able to explain to them from personal experience what being on a beta-blocker feels like and that they shouldn't worry about their hearts. That felt good. Also, I apparently was fun enough that a few of the girls kept looking for excuses to come up to see me, and to stay for 45 minutes telling me stories that only middle school girls get that excited about. I wish I could have stayed longer, and at the same time, I was relieved to go home. It's daunting being THE medical professional on site, and really uplifting to actually seem competent. I'm still a long way off from M.D., but I'll take "best nurse ever" for now.

On another note, I'm starting to consider working with kids with disabilities as a result of some training classes for autism that I've been able to sit in on. Really fascinating strategies for intervention in toddlers that I could totally see myself using some day. Or maybe it's just for my own personal knowledge and enjoyment. Who knows.

Why

"It was a weeping day...On and off, tears fell uncontrollably. Little girl that I truly am--couldn't be held enough, couldn't believe enough. And yet, as I looked to you, Lord, I knew that you were holding me, believing for me."

I'm trying to believe that God allows desolation to draw us closer to Him. But some desolations are too strong. They are too big for me to believe that there is a peak high enough to warrant wandering through the valley. I'm trying to believe that God is bigger than all of this, but I don't know if my faith is big enough. Everytime I feel like I'm just celebrating God's blessings, tragedy hits so hard that I find myself whining like a child, "It's not fair." But it's not. Nothing in Scripture rings true this time.

"Hide me away in the palm of Your hand. Be Thou my fortress strong. Cover my head in this battle that rages..."

Wishing upon a star

Pictures will be up on Facebook soon (right guys?) but I'll jot down some memories from this weekend while they're fresh. My friend Kim got married yesterday and truly honored me by asking me to be her Maid of Honor. I asked the Best Man if he thought it was corny that I said that, and he said no, and I'm making him the official judge. Not only was it an honor, it was also one of the most fun weekends of my life.

Thursday, Bachelorette party. Fairly fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants, thanks to my busy schedule/lack of planning/mini-golf course closing due to "inclement weather." I think maybe you can get a sense of the night by getting a glimpse of our conversation.
Kim's house before we left: "I think I peed a little."
Party City to get us all decked out: "I'm a tease!"
Target to get socks for the back seat: "What's it say?" "Bachelorette." "Oh, are you getting married?" (Here's your sign! Kim wanted to say, "No, I just get the best strippers when I wear this.")
Bowling alley: "Jasmine just got hit on by the shoe lady."
Friday's (too many to pick just one): "No salt!" "Zero fun, sir!" "This tastes like feet!" "Who's the sober one?"

Friday, Rehearsal. Met Bethany, Nathan's sister, other bridesmaid; Nathan's parents; groomsmen. The groomsmen decided that when we were walking down the aisle, we had to say "Gail" every time our right foot hit the floor. Gail was the wedding coordinator, who had everything under control, right down to tape markings where we should stand. I asked Michelle later if she was also getting excited just standing up there on the altar (stage) thinking about it. "I was thinking how I was going to see the tape mark under my dress." Nice to know we were all taking it seriously. Dinner was freaking amazing. When that's all you have to pay for, you can sure make it nice. Between the filet mignon the size of my head, Francois the lovely French waiter with a bolo tie, and the chocolate mousse cake, I was in seventh heaven.

Saturday, Wedding. Showed up at 8 to get ready. So many funny memories from that hour alone. Took pictures, tripped up the stairs practicing walking up with our dresses and flowers, made sure we ate so we wouldn't faint during the ceremony, took more pictures, prayed with Kim, used a whole box of dryer sheets on Jasmine's dress, took more pictures, etc. The actual wedding was beautiful. I tried so hard not to cry so I wouldn't ruin the eye makeup that Heather had worked so hard on, but my nose was running quite a bit. It was surreal and so grace-filled to be on the altar with Kim, as a witness to her commitment to Nathan and as a friend beside her to support her. And no one tripped going down the stairs, so that's a plus. The reception was, we'll say, calm. We always joke that Nazarenes don't believe in pre-marital sex because it leads to dancing. And I didn't mix that up. But my toast went over well, so I'm told, the food was good, and I think Kim enjoyed herself, which is the most important thing. I got hit on both sides of the head going for the bouquet and so was nursing my wounds as Michelle came up with it. We always said she would be the first to marry.

Anyways, thanks to Kim for a wonderful time, and to my "new best friends" for making me laugh so hard. The Lord bless you and keep you...

In Memory

"Eric killed himself yesterday. I was going to use a pseudonym to tell you the story, but that somehow seemed a violation of his identity, and if he didn't have that at least, he'd only be a memory. The first thing I felt was the crushing heartache--for his mom, for Paul, for his fiance, for me, for anyone who had to tell or hear the news. Is it morbid that my next thought was for details? Not as morbid as the details themselves I suppose. He shut himself up in his car, in his garage, and shot himself in the head. Just like that. He was 23. They said he was taking medication for bipolar disorder. Is that supposed to make it better? That now we have a reason? I wonder if his doctor just threw pills at him. Did he even try to understand the pain in this young man's heart? Did he care? Did anyone?

Eric's funeral was this morning. I couldn't go. Emotionally, I mean, I knew I couldn't handle it. His poor mom and little brother. His friends and family. I'd been at one funeral for someone who died too young--a stranger, a car accident. That was almost unbearable. This would be worse. It was too much. Mom said it was nice. Said Paul loooked grown up. How could he? He's only 13. But death does that sometimes. 'I'll miss you, bro.' That's what he said. Mom was mad. How could he leave behind a fiance? How could he not see any other way? How could he do this? How could he? And I thought...You don't put a bullet in your head unless you're absolutely convinced that the bullet won't hurt as much as the pain inside.

It's raining today. Studying carbon monoxide makes me think of suicide, makes me think of Eric. Now I wish I'd gone to the funeral. But I know that then I couldn't have. I wish I had that memory though. Some warped kind of closure. Maybe that's what this is. So at least you'll know about Eric. That he was in need. That he was needed. And that somehow, those truths were never shared."

I don't know that I'll ever put this behind me. I don't know that I should even try. But at least now I feel okay enough to share it. I am so grateful for the blessings in my life, for God's hand protecting me, lavishly pouring His love upon me, holding me, leading people into my life. So much happens...new jobs, graduations, health problems, moving away, getting married, suffering a loss. It brings so many different emotions to the surface, takes so long to process. But through it all, God is constant, with plans for our welfare and a life of hope and freedom.

My heart is ready.

Baby Screaming It’s Head Off In The Middle Of The Night And Ruining My Life Pie

I've decided I love movies. Which is ironic since I can rarely find one whose morals are enough in line with my own to warrant viewing. Maybe that's why I like so many chick-flicks; not because I necessarily enjoy the genre, but because by and large, they're fairly watchable. The reason I've decided I love movies gets a little tricky to explain, mostly because I haven't sorted it all out in my head yet, but it's along the lines of becoming engrossed in someone else's drama, being able to sympathize with them, enjoy their perfect friendships, remember when I wanted to use those same lines, marvel at an actor's talent to perfectly convey the exact emotion you're feeling. At first I had a complex that it was just because my life was boring and I was living vicariously through cinema, but I've since decided it's more than that (or at least I'm telling myself that to prevent severe self-pity). I think I just like being immersed in the human experience, and I enjoy living it myself or being drawn into it through a movie. I love the relationships and the dialogue and the emotions and seeing people discover things about themselves, take risks, love, hurt, whether they're real people or simply characters. I saw Waitress last weekend and decided it fell smack into the middle of this love of movies. I'm not going to try to convince you that everyone will like it, but it certainly covers the human experience. Not to mention some pretty delicious sounding pies. I also got to re-watch Phantom of the Opera with Rachelle last week, and was surprised by how much I still enjoyed it the third or fourth time around. Granted, opera ghosts and deformed men and gorgeous soundtracks aren't a typical part of life for most of us, but the shame, longing, pain, triumph, fear, and innocence are.

Of course, there are also movies good for pure entertainment value, and I don't think I have to justify liking Casino Royale to anyone.

On a totally different note, and still semi-related to the title, which is why I chose it, I was at Mass on Sunday and was overwhelmed by the number of kids that were there. A boy and a girl in front of us distracted me because they seemed so close to their parents, wanting to be near them and hug them and talk to them, rather unlike my own sisters. And during the offertory, dozens of them gleefully skipped forward to place their offerings in the glass jar. If only we could give so freely, or find that much joy in life at all. I decided two things. My heaven will be the joy and freedom of thousands of children. And I can't wait to be a mom. I still don't know what God's plan for me in that area is, but if it is His will, I can't wait to have kids and to share te love I've felt with them as much as humanly possible.

Moving further from relevant, a few random thoughts...I love being outside in Colorado. I really like Corn Toss. I'm really excited for the weddings this summer. I love cookouts. I am not thrilled my knee is preventing me from riding. It's surreal to be done with my first year of med school. I am so grateful for this past year in Denver. I could eat fruit and dirt pudding all day long (not necessarily together). And I'd better get back to being productive.

Thanks for listening, and for being there.

Ugh

Maybe if I make it public and have people hold me accountable, it might actually happen. I have officially retired from STM flag football. It no longer, nor has it for quite a while, holds any joy for me, and I find I'm a better person when I don't play. So here's to those who can be bigger people without having to be quitters, cause apparently I can't. Please hold me to it.

Also, a big fat happy birthday to Hilary. And happy next 23 years. Love you.

Rule #1: All guns are always loaded

I went to the shooting range yesterday. It was less Aliasque than I thought it would be, but that's mostly because all I could think about while I was in there was not breaking the rules, and hitting the target. It was surreal, the whole thing.
I felt so naive asking if the gun could fire when you pulled the slide back, but, hey, how else am I gonna know? I now know the difference between single-action and double-action, which is something you could just as easily Google, but it was more fun this way.
I hit the target on the first try. And the second try, which Dan said was more impressive. That was after taking a full five minutes to select a gun. I definitely liked the feel of the 9 mm more than the revolver. And when I say "liked," don't get the idea that I got all giddy and smiley at the thought of holding a lethal weapon in my hands. It just felt more comfortable, more powerful, and more like I was an agent, if you want the truth. Although feeling like a cowboy is almost as cool.
I kept the targets to brag about, and because no one got a picture of me with my "eyes and ears" on. I don't know that I'll go back to Firing Line, but I'm really glad I went, for many reasons. Not the least of which is that I'll never get snubbed for calling the magazine a clip.
Thanks for the lessons.

Less than cut-throat

I know it's totally sappy and bordering on pathetic, but I was watching the 2004 WSOP Tournament of Champions last night, and saw probably the saddest hand of Hold 'Em I've ever seen. Until that point, I wasn't aware poker could be sad. Final three--Annie Duke (yay for women holding their own!), Howard Lederer (her big brother, the one who got her into poker), and Phil Helmuth (who, despite his renown, I can't stand). Phil kept getting out of the way of the sibling rivalry, which I was glad for, as I can't stand to hear him running off his mouth when he plays. Howard was all in with pocket 7's, and Annie, with the chip lead, called him with pocket 6's. "Good hand, bub." And then the flop. Q-Q-6. Annie was devastated. Naturally. I mean, she's knocked him out of WSOP play multiple times, but not like this. Not on a hand he should have won. The River played out with no help, and Bub went off with a "What a 6, Annie" and heart-wrenching hug from his baby sister. So sad. I didn't finish watching, but all I can say is thank goodness she knocked Phil out shortly after to win the $2 million. I don't think I could have handled the drama if she had then lost, to Phil no less. I came away appreciating the class and skill of the sibling duo. It put a nice sentimental ending to a weekend full of competitive flag-football, during which I apparently earned titles as "Total Dominance" and "Big Pun" (from my "Punisher" designation on my jersey). It was so much fun, I'm not gonna lie. I love scoring touchdowns, sacking QB's, and even the painful stiffness the day after. But it was good to remember in the end there are more important things, like family.

Awwww.

Rolling...

The title of the blog, for those of you who haven't been tortured by my family home videos, comes from a little slip (or perhaps intentional joke) courtesy of my twin sister, who informed my mom before going to bed one night that the moon was not outside because it went to work ("wuk"). Anyways, any reminder of my childhood makes me nostalgic, and for some reason, the following memory popped into my head.

Every time we visited my grandparents in Indiana, we would pile on the pull-out bed, crank the ceiling fan, and slip "Pippi Longstocking" into the VCR. Among other things, the theme song was forever etched in our heads from the first viewing, and so I remember one day, back at home on Roslyn Ct., Michelle and I, bored as usual, took it upon ourselves to create entertainment. We pulled out my dad's green moving dolly and some extra bungee cords, strapped one of us down to the dolly, and took turns wildly wheeling each other around the cul-de-sac, screaming at the top of our lungs, "Whoa whoa! Pippi Longstocking is coming into your world, a freckle-faced, redhead girl you outta know, the one who's fun to be around."

I don't know why that one stuck. Probably a combination of the absurdity of it and the freedom we felt flying along the sidewalk, not caring what other people thought of those crazy blond twins. I probably wish I had more of both in my life: absurdity and freedom. But for now, back to the studying, which is certainly absurd, but hardly freeing. Thanks for indulging my memories.

Evangelizing the Culture

A little heavy for the first post. I thought about writing something stupid for the first one just to take the pressure off, but this came to mind first. As I look around me especially in Denver, I see a vibrant young Catholic community, several intact marriages and families that I consider role models, and people that are striving for something better than what this world has to offer. However, I also see (partially as a result of being in health care, at a secular university, and in America, I think) a failing health care system, political system, and moral system. So many people are satisfied with so much less than they were created for. The other day, I was informed that the "right order" of doing things was "meeting someone, dating, moving in together, then getting married." No one batted an eye. It's just one example, but I think representative of how many people blindly accept what has been given to them...a hedonistic, agnostic culture. And so I alternate between thinking my generation is going to change the world and despairing that the world is beyond our help. What is our role? We have to bridge the gap somehow. I've already ruled out being of the world, but I'm having a hard time even being in it. How are we to evangelize a culture that isn't aware it needs evangelizing?