Grrrrrrrrr!

This is the cutest thing since sliced bread. Click here for the whole article. Gotta love Fox News.
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The Grrr! Lexicon

Readers to this column have become accustomed to the Grrr! lexicon, but here's a glossary of terms for your edification:

Oblivion (oh-bliv-éon) — A person who is so oblivious to his or her surroundings that they abandon all common courtesy and commit daily acts of rudeness. Oblivions are oblivious to the very fact that they are Oblivions, which makes it difficult for an Oblivion to ever see the error in his or her ways.

For example: A line of courteous people will form at the Starbucks coffee counter, with each person ordering in their turn. An Oblivion usually stands to the side of the line, staring so intently at the Frappuccino menu that when a clerk asks who's next, they are awakened out of their Oblivion trance and will yell out their order, cutting the line as if there weren't a line at all. They're also parked in a no-parking or handicapped zone.

Another example is the movie theater Oblivion, who arrives to a packed theater with an Oblivion friend, after the movie begins. Together they will search for seats and eventually spot two separate, empty seats in the same row. They will then proceed to ask the people who bothered to show up early so they could choose the seats they wanted (non-Oblivions) and ask everybody in the row to scoot down a seat so they can sit together (most times people will accommodate the Oblivion, just to save the Grrr!).

O Holy Night!

Tonight is the night of wonderment, of mystery and joy. I wish you all a very blessed, Holy Christmas.

My family and I are attending the Midnight Mass at Immaculate Conception in Cleveland. No doubt the Latin chant will be earth-shattering.

Yesterday my Ma, my sister, and I saw the movie Therese. The beginning was a little slow, and sugary. When Therese was talking about all her 'serious' sins (eating the biggest piece of cake at lunch,) I wanted to smack her upside the head. But then, after she entered Carmel, the movie got tons better. It was funny and happy and heartbreaking, all at the same time. The ending was truly wonderful; I wanted to cry my eyes out (but I didn't, aren't I brave?).

When we were driving home (no black ice incidents this time,) I brought up nuns to Ma. She said "oh well, if you became a nun, I would still get to see you. It's not like you'd be cloistered." And I said: "Well, cloistered nuns get to see their families every so often." And she said "Oh, well, you have to finish college first." Can you believe it! I mean, I think she was speaking in the hypothetical, because we were talking about hypothetical nuns. But she laughing and not ballistic at all! It's a Christmas miracle!

I'm Huhhhh-ohme!

So, I'm back in Ohio. I drove for like four hours until 1:30 in the morning, and then Dad took over. I'm dead beat tired, but warm and happy. I'm so giddy to see my brothers, sister, and parents. Ma is being difficult, as usual. But she hasn't touched the bottle all day, which is impressive. Dad is still screaming about credidt cards. But aside from that, it is snowing tons and tons!

Feel like being depressed? Read Bishop Sklba's latest schtick. He admits to being mentored by Archbishop Weakland, he of sodomy fame? He wants Catholic devotions to be re-evaulated based on their usefulness to Protestant sects? Huh?

Pray for our bishops. They are in trouble.

Time For A Happy Dance

People, I am finished with my finals! Whoopdeedo!

I just took my last exam, Anthropology. I'm glad it's over: that was a particularly difficult class to stomach. The professor believes that the agricultural revolution was a mistake, the industrial revolution was a sin, and we should have stayed hunter/gatherers. No, I am not kidding. She says foraging societies were the only truly egalitarian communities in the history of man. I mean, the history of persons. I mean, the herstory of persons. Oy vey.

So now I'm going to sell my Anthropology books, buy some fattening food, feast and eat. Happy Tuesday, people!

Hey! Let's Go Eat Some Snow!

So, today I was supposed to go to Confession, and wouldn't you know it, it took me all day to muster up enough courage? So I shaluffed off to the National Shrine of the Immacualte Conception. Have you ever been? You simply must go. The rector is Rev. Msgr. Michael J. Bransfield, who, I understand, has recently been appointed the Bishop of Somewheres.

Anyway, the Shrine offers Confession, for hours, each and every day. English is a second-language for many of the priests. Some of them are quite annoying; they monkey with the formula, changingthe word 'absolve' to 'forgive.' That's a big "forget-illicit-is-this-Sacrament-even-valid" no-no. I went to the Shrine for my first Confession (after being away for a long time.) When I told the priest I had recieved the Eucharist unworthily, he replied that I shouldn't worry about it.

But this time, I was plesantly shriven. Shriven, isn't that a great word? The priest was of Hispanic orgins, but he knew English very well. I had some excruciating things to confess, but he was very nice and it all came out.

Then I hopped upstairs for Mass, and when I left for home, it was snowing! Buckets and buckets of snow! And a rather nasty 'come-here-so-I-can-give-you-a-spanking' wind, too. I wanted to run around with my mouth open, and try to catch the snowflakes. But then I remembered that: 1. There were nuns directly behind me 2. It would be immature and undignified 3. I would probably bruise my tush slipping on the slushy steps.

So, I put up my umbrella, and acted my age.
When I get back to Ohio, I am going to eat some snow.

TGIF

I am soooo happy its Friday. So happy. I just got done taking my muderous Statistics final, boy was that a whopdeedo. But I think I did okay, so its all good.

Tomorrow I have confession. Haven't been in a month. Got some real doozies to tell Father, so say a prayer for my courage!

I just found out recently that Thérèse the movie is going to be playing in Akron! Which means I can go see it! Swoon!

I also found out recently that me and my sister have tickets to El-Presidente's Innauguration!

So now I'm going to go click my heels together. Happy, happy, joy joy.

Happy Festivus

If I am forbidden, as forbidden I well may be, from telling people "Merry Christmas," then I will not say "Happy Holidays." Maybe I will irritate some people by saying "Have a Holy Holiday." After all, even secularists have their gods.

Or I could be British about it and say, "Why, I hope you have a very lovely holiday, indeed." But not under any conditions at all will I utter that phrase which, by default, has become the mantra of those at the ACLU who froth at the mouth: Happy Holidays!

The blandness, the vanillaness, is too much. What does it mean, anyway? I hope you are happy, doing whatever it is that you do this time of year? Not that I care to find out? Because if I did take the two seconds necessary to ask "Which holiday do you celebrate," I might be able to say, with confidence, "Happy Hannukah" or "Merry Christmas?" And God forbid I establish that kind of intimacy with you, a perfect stranger, whom I would rather not know at all?

Even more annoying is "Season's Greetings!" I wish you a jolly onset to the dark, damp, cold part of the year? Isn't it great how the trees are dead? Season's greetings!

Good grief. The only thing happy about Winter, in my opinion, is the Nativity. The secularists would say: "What about snow. You might build a snowperson. That would be fun."

Cringe / Cringe / Recoil

We've already established the fact that I didn't get any sleep last night. And that sleep deprivation makes me cranky, irritable, and turns me into a merciless predator where annoying freshman boys are concerned.

I like to get to the church an hour early, so that I can read my meditations. But this morning, I dozed off. So much for oodles and oodles of sanctity for me! In general, I was an extreme slack-off assistant at Mass today. I just wanted it to be over. That was bad, wasn't it?

Father Conway was a little testy too. Before his homily (which was satisfying, as usual,) he told us that "I give you an hour every week, I'm asking you for fifteen minutes." Apparently the diocese wanted him to give the congregation a talking to after Mass, downstairs in the school cafeteria. I don't know what it was about, (me being an evil slacker, slipped out the back,) but I'm guessing it was about money. And I can't help them where that's concerned.

Additionally, the subway was clogged up like a cholesterol-encrusted heart valve, and the trains were ridiculously late and everyone was annoyed.

So there's the Cringe, Cringe. Here's the Recoil part. I go peruse the trusty Religion forum of Free Republic (as is my Sunday morning custom,) and what do I see? Bishop Hubbard is at it again. I know it was originally just a cute alliteration, but Albany really is in agony. Dancing in the sanctuary? This ain't Africa, where dancing can be considered sacred. Here in America, its just another way to wedge women priestesses into the the Liturgy.

One More Second And I Would Have Broken the Eucharistic Fast By Eating This Kid's Head

Okay. I did not sleep at ALL last night. I can't even begin to tell you what kind of junk is on Saturday night, at 3 am. I guess that would be Sunday morning.

Anyway...

I decided to quit trying to sleep and got ready for Church at 4:30 this morning. So I march out of my apartment building. The streets were deserted, except for this dopey kid who came out of the 7-Eleven. Of course, he sidled up to me and proceeded to engage me in the most infuriating, inane conversation I have had in nearly four months. He said:

"Uh,are you a security guard?"
"No."
"Uh, are you a CF?" (C.F.=Community Facilitator. Our version of the 'dorm mother')
"No."
"Uh, do you go to Mitchell?" (Mitchell= the apartment building I came out of)
"I live there."
"Uh, what year are you."
"I'm a sophomore."
"I thought only freshmen lived in Mitchell."
"Most of them are."
"Where are you going."
"Mass."
"Church? What time is church?"
"Nine."
"And what time is it now?" He looks at his watch.
"Yeah, I like to get there early."
"Well that's really respectable. Because it being a Saturday night and all, a lot of girls get drunk."
"Have a good day."

Don't ask me. I think he was high.

I Love My Mommy

Mommy sends me cookies.
Mommy pays for my college dorm.
Mommy tells me everything will be okay.
Mommy doesn't get upset when I get an A- & not an A, just because of type-os.
Mommy gives me money for Christmas.
Mommy doesn't mind when I break her Christmas ornaments.
Mommy doesn't care that I'm too poor to get her a present.
Mommy taught me how to put curlers in my hair.
Mommy cooks me spaghetti whenever I want it.
Mommy doesn't go on strike,like other's people's Mommies. Because my Mommy is not an A-1 Nut Job.
I love my Mommy.

More Weird Economics

Today my Economics professor, a rather dour looking man in his mid-fifties, quoted the chick flick "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood". As if that wasn't weird and disturbing enough, instead of teaching us about monopoly versus oligarchy and their varying market systems, dear professor took a side trip to tell us one of his little 'stories'.

There was a Marine in Iraq. He lost his gun. He told his captain.

"I can't go to combat today, I've lost my gun."

The captain says "Don't give me that." He takes a broom, chops off the handle and gives it to the Marine.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"When you want to shoot the enemy, just go bangity-bangity-bang."

A little perplexed, the Marine replies, "Well, what if the enemy gets closer. I don't have a bayonet."

The captain picks up a piece of string and ties it to the broom handle. "Just swing the string and say "stabbity-stabbity-stab."

The Marine thinks: My captain has been here too long. He's gone Section Eight, and I'm dead meat. So he hauls off to combat, and all his fellow soldiers get run down. Now its just him and the enemy. With no other options he does what his captain told him to. "Bangity-bangity-bang." Many enemy soldiers drop dead. "Stabbity-stabity-stab." All the remaining enemy soldiers drop dead.

The Marine is happy beyond belief. Now its just him and one enemy soldier, off in the distance. Confident now, the Marine turns to him and goes "bangity-bangity-bang." But the enemy soldiers keeps coming. The Marine tries again: "Stabbity-stabbity-stab." The enemy keeps coming.

Finally the enemy soldier is on top of the Marine, and he dislocates both the Marine shoulders. The Marine lies there on the ground, and looks back at the enemy soldier. What does he hear? "Tankity-tankity-tank."

Clean, Mean, Spanking New

There are two reasons why I haven't been posting that much.

1. Finals are coming, and I'm supposed to be studying my cute
little eyes out.

2. I went on a cleaning riff, and now my shoebox upstairs is
super organized in a non neurotic way. I even used my
vacume cleaner! And Lysol! And my laundry is freshly dry
and folded! I feel sooo comortable in my nice, clean, mean
spanking good as new room. But then I didn't sleep very
well last night, because of the fumes. Oh well.

I'm Under A Lot of Stress

I just finished typing up a 12 page paper on why the right to privacy does not exist. Now don't any Libertarians come looking for me with pitchforks. I believe in a right to freedom from government scrutiny and public disclosure, but not in a right to autonomy. Have no idea what I'm talking about? Then read the paper:Privacy Does Not Exist

I'm trying to get recommendations for AmeriCorps City Year; I've asked one professor, (she's said yes) and I've asked the girls at work. I emailed them, was that bad? They haven't gotten back to me, and I'm starting to have this sinking feeling.

I've got to get a background check and a fingerprint for this new day care job; it costs money and involves a huge amount of hassle. So its time to breath slowly. Yes? Yes.

I'm really annoyed right now, because there's this uber-liberal in my Political Science class who pontificates on every issue. And there's this America-hating Russian who hates America. He hates America so much, he's sitting in an American classroom getting an American education. Thats not the annoying part, though. The annoying part is these two people use the word 'like' every 2 seconds in whatever they're saying. Some people, when they want to pause, or connect two thoughts, say "umm" or "aaa" or "uhhhh". These people say 'like'. I was crawling up the wall for one hour and fifteen minutes.

My Season of Expectation Is Not Going As Planned

Well, guys, I'm sore all over from my tumble yesterday. And this morning I slammed my middle finger in my desk drawer.

I got a letter from the Loretto Carmelites! I'll post the text later. They gave me directions to come to their Monastery in January. I was sooo excited to go.

But then I called a cab company to see what their fares are like; its 35 bucks both ways. That on top of a $70 dollar bus fee. So what am I going to do? "The costs are prohibitive" as my Economics professor would say. I'm going to write them back telling them I can't come. Because my dear Dad wants to drive me back to school after Christmas. And I can't keep insisting on taking a bus, and asking him for the money to take the bus, without him asking me why I don't want him to take me. And its not like I can ask my Father to drop me off at the doorstep of a Carmelite Monastery without him 'getting a clue' and going ballistic.

So, sigh. My "Season of Expectation" is already a little kaputz. Isn't it nice that we have the promise of the Incarnation fulfilled? With Advent, there's no disappointment. The Jews must have had a tough time back in the day, what with wondering about the Messiah and all.