Welcome to Red Tape City. What Happens Here, Gets Stuck Here, and Never Escapes

I notice that The George Washington University has really let itself go. It is even more bloated than the flabby federal government which surrounds it. Nobody at the "central offices" wants to speak to you. They want you to go to your school, (The Elliott School, in my case) not the university. Because there is no university. It's an academic front for a real estate development corporation. (The President of the University all but admitted this in one of those "I didn't know the microphone was on" moments we all know and love.)

The result is, chaos. Case in point:

Awhile ago, there was a fire in a dorm. The Secret Service is, at all hours of the night, on the rooftops around here. They like to keep an eye on things. So, they notice smoke billowing out of this dorm, and they telephone the University. "Um, yup. There's a fire in your building, we thought we better tell ya about it, ya."

Should the University know when one of its buildings, the ancient one, the one housing 1100 freshmen, the one with only two stairwells, is being gutted by an electrical fire? Ya think, ya? But no. The Secret Service has to notify them. Meanwhile, this poor kid is burning to death. (Well. He made it, I understand. But he's been stuck in ICU for several weeks now.)

Ohime, I do deplore red tape. Makes me want to run around here with a pair of scissors, blades up.

Today is the Feast Day of my favourite Saint,
a Doctor of the Church,
Saint Caterina of Siena,
whom everybody insists on calling St. Catherine
Additionally: I'm 20 Years Old today. Yay!

Oy Vey

Ma didn't call me last night like she said. Today my sister tells me, "she doesn't wanna talk to you until you get home." I don't get home until May 19th.

All of this is probably an attempt to shore up the defensive line. Dad is the stronger one, and she will let him do the manuvering.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

I'm Back!

Coming through the airport, I got lots of weird looks, because I was smiling so much! My face actually hurt from all that grinning!

Casa Maria is a lovely place, and the Sisters were lovely and did everything to make me feel welcome. The retreat was wonderful! Fr. Mullady really is quite brilliant. I'll never forget the story about the bamboo, that had to be stripped, torn and have its heart ripped out before it could be used to channel life giving water to dry crops! (He told the story much more eloquently.)

I took a couple pictures, but everything was really so beautiful! There's a doggie named Prince and a kitty named Marshmallow, and I vacuumed and used a shrink-wrap thingy, and we went on a rosary walk.

On the way back I suddenly realized I didn't have any photos of the Sisters! Argh! But I did get one of Father Lambert, their chaplain. He is just the sweetest ever. I met him, and two minutes later he was on my "Favorite People In the History of the World" list.

I tried on a postulant uniform. I know they're not supposed to be "pretty," but I like them a lot. So, I have an application now, and I've got to hurry up and start filling it out. Two big problems: one named Ma, the other named Dad.

They are against the nun business entirely, and I've got to imagine that doing things right-quick will elicit at least a "DefCon 2" response. I called Ma this morning, and she's going to call back tonight so that we can open negotiations. Hehehe, it sounds like I need a lawyer. St. Thomas More, patron Saint of attorneys, pray for me!

Oh Golly, Fudge Fudge Fudge

So here I go, down south to Alabama and the Sister Servants. Oy vey, am I in denial about the whole thing. Otherwise, I'd be too scared.

So, prier pour nous, I mean, moi. And don't spill the beans about where I am to the parental units. Because if you do, I will know who you are and I will find out where you sleep at night. :)

Now for some funny anxiety reducing stuff. I was trying to think of a chanting thingy for Papa. John Paul the Great had, "John Paul 2, we love you," which was fabulous. Some ideas:

My own suggestion: "Ben-ne-dett-o, we love you so"
From a Freeper on Free Republic: "X. V. I. He's our guy!"
Or what about Mark Shea? He suggests:
"You're 16, you're beautiful, and your mine."
Lol.

Mr. Shea also has the right idea re: dissenting Catholics who like to pick and choose their articles of faith: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE CAFETERIA IS CLOSED!

Headline: "Surprise! New Pope takes a walk through Rome"

Read all about it right here. The Italians went giddy, but the Swiss Guard was not amused. Papa is not afraid, even though this is an excellent way to get shot.

I find it weird to see Cardinal Ratzinger, I mean Papa Benedict, in white. I guess I'll get used to it. He sure does look smashing!

The above picture was taken during this impromptu stroll, when Papa went to check on the stuff in his old apartment and leave for the last time. He could've gotten somebody else to do it, but I guess he wanted to see to it himself.

He lived for years and years in this little room above the last stop of the city's No. 64 bus. He walked to work every morning, and because he dressed like an ordinary priest, tourists would stop him all the time to ask him for directions, ask him about the Pope, all the time never realizing who they were talking to. When he wanted, he'd stop by this little German restaurant and have a beer.

No more of that, for the rest of his life. I feel kinda bad. Before I would have said, "awww, poor baby, you're staying put," without a pinch of pain. But now I feel a little sad. He wanted to retire to this tiny Bavarian village and write books. Now that can't ever happen! This is the last job he'll ever have. It's a life sentence. Oh well. In all the pictures, he looks happy.

And he can still pound it out on the piano whenever he wants. (If you're looking for a Christmas present for the Pope Who Has Everything, this one is a hugemongous Mozart fan, so there you go.) In my humble opinion, Papa Benedict also has a melodic singing voice.

Is This Not The Sweetest Thing Ever?

"Dear Ones, this intimate recognition for a gift of divine mercy prevails in my heart in spite of everything. I consider this a grace obtained for me by my venerated predecessor, John Paul II. It seems I can feel his strong hand squeezing mine; I seem to see his smiling eyes and listen to his words, addressed to me especially at this moment: 'Do not be afraid!'"

Can we say, Schadenfreude?

The Militant Gays, Abortionists, and Feminazis are all in a tizzy over the quick election of Benedict XVI. And rightly so. Papa is a fantastic soldier for the culture of life! He eats Deathmongers for lunch.

Benedict XVI! Papa, I Love You!

"Dear brothers and sisters, after the great John Paul II, the cardinals have elected me, a simple, humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord. The fact that the Lord can work and act even with insufficient means consoles me, and above all I entrust myself to your prayers. In the joy of the resurrected Lord, trustful of his permanent help, we go ahead, sure that God will help. And Mary, his most beloved Mother, stands on our side."

Deo Gratias!

I was walking home from work ( I usually take the Subway) and boy was I sweltering. Because DC is going through a strange "is-it-spring-yet" phase, the morning debate is always: Shall I freeze to death now? Or dress warmly and melt later in the day? So here I was, trucking it clear across the West End, sweating buckets. And I thought: I hate this. What shall I do? Offer it up. For the conclave. For my dearly beloved Ratz.

I finally got back to campus, and I sat down in a computer lab and downloaded Yahoo's newspage. What did I see? Reported, 1 minute ago- "New Pope Elected." When I clicked on it, I thought they were teasing me, because the link took me to a story about black smoke. But then I saw that the news was so well, new, they hadn't written anything yet! I clicked on a live video link, and there were the bells of St. Peter's ringing. So I raced onto Blogger, wrote the one line entry you see below: "We have a Pope !!!(etc.)1," beat it out of that building, peeled off across campus, and made it huffing, puffing, and severely dehydrated, home. I had just enough time to turn on the news, call my Ma, and pop a blank tape in the VCR.

We (my Ma and me) were on pins and needles for like fifteen minutes, waiting. So then Archbishop Marini comes out, and because my head is elsewhere, I think: "Who the heck is that guy? This guy is the next Pope?" You see, I forgot that it's Archbishop Marini who says "Habemus Papam," and introduces the new Holy Father to the crowd. So then I was waiting, waiting, waiting, and finally Marini spits out "... Josephum ..." and that's when I pretty much knew. At which point I told Ma, "Congratulations." All I heard on the line was squealing.

Then Pope Benedict XVI (how in the world am I ever gonna get used to calling Joseph Ratzinger that) came out, and the broadcasters were hyperventilating and gasping in air like school kids.

Right now, I am sooooo happy. He was a big reason I decided to be Catholic. I mean, I'm on the member list of Cardinal Ratzinger's Fan Club. I have this man's framed picture sitting on my desk this very minute.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are safe in these hands.

WE HAVE A POPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

DAY 1: ROUND 1: BLACK SMOKE: NO POPE

"EXTRA OMNES!"

That's the sound of Cardinal Marini, in the midst of the red and white in the Sistine Chapel, standing up and shouting :
"Everybody Else OUT!"

... and so the Conclave begins. Pray hard!

Ay-yah-yah

So, no post yesterday. I slept in until 2:00 in the afternoon. Yup. There's no reason why. I've been sleeping fine. It's just I've caught a cold, and I guess my body wanted some REM. So - poof! -- there goes the whole day!

I stayed up the entire night getting my economics done. And that wasn't so bad because I got to hear Cardinal Ratzinger's homily this morning. Plus, because I'm up and at 'em, I have a chance to go to Confession. Speaking of which. The Ratz has been giving a lot of homilies lately, and he's always touching on Divine Mercy!

Blah. In other news, I'm reading the letters of St. Caterina of Siena. I've decided she's my favourite Saint. Obedience was her thing, and it's my thing, too. She never let a disappointing prelate get her down. She loved them all, even the scoundrels! Plus her feast day is on my birthday! She's wonderful, and a good example of what Catholics should do when faced with schism and dissent.

Happy Birthday, Cardinal Ratzinger ...

Happy Birthday To You! ... Cha-Cha-Cha ... And many mooooore ...
(78 years young today! Wowzers!)

The latest "news" ( I mean "news" in the loosest sense of the word, because its really just fluff being paraded by the Italian press, a storied institution which is not too picky about journalistic niceties concerning attribution,) Ratzinger is losing momentum and some South Americans are picking it up.

Once again, I'm not getting excited, anxious, worried, or anything. The old guys can handle things just fine, and God is on their side to boot. I think the reason the Ratz is supposedly "losing momentum" is because the liberals have been freaked out by the possibility of the Panzerkardinal taking over the Big Show. In their nightmares, there's always Cardinal Ratzinger, leaning close and whispering:

"Come here, my dear. Let me Grandly Inquire about you."

Fudge. Forgot To Do Me Taxes.

Time for another one of those extension-type thingys.

Course Registration Purgatory

These are the courses I wanted to get, for Fall Semester 2005:

1. Military Geography
"An examination of environmental and locational factors and their impact on military planning and operations."

2. Military Force and Foreign Policy:
"Impact of military considerations on U.S. foreign policy; major problems in national security, e.g., strategic weaponry, military assistance, regional security problems."

3. International History of the Cold War
"Key events and themes of the Cold War, drawing on new evidence from U.S., Soviet, Chinese, German, East European, Vietnamese, Cuban, and other sources."

4. U.S. Diplomatic History
"American foreign relations in the 20th century."

5. International Economics
"International trade theory and policy."

In case you don't know, I'm an International Affairs major. But that's not important, because practically EVERYONE at the "Elliot School of International Affairs" is an International Affairs major. My concentration is Security, which puts me in the hawks section of the school.

How many of these courses did I actually get? One. Blah. I'm going to have to end up taking something useless, like "Human Rights and Ethics" (a truly crappy, typically anthropologically left-wing class taught in the hippy section of the school,) because there's nooo way I'm going to be able to get signed in to FOUR classes. Blah.
Hey, maybe I'll get into my Ameri-Corps division, and then I won't have to worry about it.

So, I don't want to jinx anything, but it looks like my dearly beloved Ratz is the front-runner going into next week's Conclave. That's what the Italian media reports (infamous for their scrupulous sourcing, cough cough, ) are saying. I'm not going to get all excited, but lets just say, it would be very, very cool. Of course, the Ratz just wants to go home to Germany and write books for the rest of his life. But I say, too bad, you're staying. We'll see.

In other news. Today at work, we took the kids to the park, as usual. They had a blast, and on the way home, I had to hold Ethan's hand. (Ethan: blond haired, blue eyed absolutely adorable 10 month old. Nickname: Seek and Destroy.) The whole way home he was singing songs from Mary Poppins, trying with gusto to pronounce "super-calli-fragilistic-expiali-docious." Then we had a long conversation about Sleeping Beauty, and how Maleficent was scary, but no match for Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather. It was a blast.

This is my first Interregnum. I've decided I'm not a fan.

There's a loud sucking sound emanating from Rome; its the vacuum left by John Paul the Great's death. I want the Cardinals to take their time, pray, and make a good decision. At the same time, I need my father. I know they're looking, but whoever he is, I hope they find him fast.

The Conclave to select the 264th successor of Saint Peter begins on April 18th, 2004. The general consensus is that it will take between 3 and four days, though it could be shorter, or longer.

Perhaps longer. This time the Cardinals will have comfortable guest quarters, because during his papacy, John Paul built them a new facility. The last time a Pope died, the Cardinal electors had to sleep in the hallways of the Vatican library.

In days long gone by, the Cardinals were taking a real long time with their decision. So, their food was rationed. Then they were given only bread and water. Then the roof was taken off of the building they were meeting in.

But, probably, three or four days. What that means is, I'll be with the Sister Servants pretty darn close to when we have a new Pope! That will be a huge blast.

Until the white smoke comes pouring out, (this time the cathedral bells will be rung too, ) there is Interregnum. During this time, the Church is in a sometimes dangerous period of sedevacante: the Seat is Empty. All but the most basic of life-supporting work grinds to a halt. The Papal Coat of Arms reverts to this scary thing:



Who ever is elected will be the 265th Pope. (You can see all the Popes, starting with Saint Peter, here.) Whoever that is will get their own seal, and all the stamps, money, and documents coming out of Vatican City will bear it. The next Pope will also get his own ring (when John Paul II died, his ring was immediately removed, and destroyed by the Cardinals.)

Happy One-Year Anniversary! (To Me)

Today, April 10th, is the one year anniversary of my solemn profession of faith, my Confirmation in the Catholic Church. By far, by far, the happy-go-luckiest day of my life (so far anyway.) There were six or seven others, and a Monsignor (with faculties from the Archbishop,) gave me the Sacrament during the Easter Vigil.

Because I was considered an adult "convert", I was part of that year's RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) class. In addition to Confirmations and First Communions, there were several baptisms among us, too!

None of my family could come, because I was too far way, so my RCIA director, Therese, was my sponsor. I got the certificate framed, and today it's hanging on my wall!

Above is a picture of the parish, St. Stephen the Martyr. You might be thinking: "ewwwww, dry heaves-worthy." But have pity, the thing was built during the sixties, when most new architecture was remarkably ugly. The inside is not so bad at all. They have a photo from when Jackie O and her first husband visited.

I occasionally attend there. One of the pastors kind of gives me the willies. But the chaplain for the campus Newman Center, who also offers Mass there, is entirely reliable. His first name is Lancelot (I kid you not,) he has an Irish accent, and he always prays the Hail Mary at the end of the General Intercessions. Completely reliable.

I stayed up all night, and saw Papa's funeral this morning at 4 am. It was celebrated by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, and was utterly beautiful. The news reports are just beginning to come in.

Cardinal Ratzinger gave the homily, and it sure was lovely. But he couldn't get through it without choking up. At the end, when the Mass was nearly over, the people burst into cries for "Giovanni Paulo!" Poor Ratz just stared straight ahead, stock still, clearly trying not to go to pieces, while he waited for them to calm down. Finally, that guy you always see serving at the Vatican Masses had to give him a nudge.


A few notable lines from the homily:

"To the Lord’s question, "Karol, do you love me?," the Archbishop of Krakow answered from the depths of his heart: "Lord you know everything; you know that I love you." The love of Christ was the dominant force in the life of our beloved Holy Father. Anyone who ever saw him pray, who ever heard him preach, knows that."

"Divine Mercy: The Holy Father found the purest reflection of God’s mercy in the Mother of God. He, who at an early age had lost his own mother, loved his divine mother all the more. He heard the words of the crucified Lord as addressed personally to him: "Behold your Mother."

And finally, the tear-jerker that got even the famously imperturbable Bavarian:

"None of us can ever forget how in that last Easter Sunday of his life, the Holy Father, marked by suffering, came once more to the window of the Apostolic Palace and one last time gave his blessing urbi et orbi. We can be sure that our beloved Pope is standing today at the window of the Father’s house, that he sees us and blesses us."

The Last Words of John Paul the Great
"Do not weep for me," dear children
Wipe your tears away
"I am happy, you be happy, too"
Be quiet now and pray
"Be not afraid," for I will see you
I will meet you once again,
Body and Soul,
In Jerusalem
"Amen."

Farewell for now, bloggers, at least until Papa is laid to rest

Wherever Holy Father went, the people would always sing him an old song from Poland: "Sto lat! Sto lat! May You Live a Hundred Years!"

Here are the words to that song, in Polish and in English, complete with music. Its a "Happy Birthday" song, and we can sing it for Papa today. If you look on a Catholic Calendar, you'll see that very rarely does the Church celebrate anybody's day of birth. Usually, their death is remembered instead. When a Saint dies, that is when we say, they were truly born, born into eternal life.

We can take comfort in the fact that Papa died an old man, warm in his bed, with every help the Church has to offer the departing. He died with his boots on, too, celebrating Mass to the end. He donated a third of his adult life to the Papacy. No one can say he did not love his children, or that they did not love him in return. It was a good life, and a good death.

Now We Are Orphans

The Holy Father's last word was: "Amen." Then, the bells of St.Peter's began to toll. The faithful had been serenading the Pope outside his window, singing and reciting the Rosary, his favourite prayer. In Italy, they have the strange tradition of clapping at funerals. But they also cry.



I've been surveying the responses of Catholics I know: there's Jen, she cried as each report of Papa's worsening health came in. One of my sister's friends got it all out yesterday, and is okay today, and another admitted he "cried for hours." Maggie cried lots yesterday, too.

She agrees with me that waiting for Papa to die, after we knew it was gonna happen, was in some ways worse than when he actually did it. We tasted a little of what the Agony in Gethsemani was like.

Yesterday, I was at the airport, and I was very proud of myself. I cried, in public, but in a very grown up way, without making a lot of noise. I'm tired of that though, so tonight I'm going to have some good old-fashioned wailing/sobbing before I go to bed.