Tuesday, March 31, 2009

My vocabulary amuses people

During Honors yesterday:

Me, trying to make a point: "Now, you haven't read the Chronicles of Narnia, have you?"

Dr. G: "No, I haven't."

Me, with feeling: "Alas!"

And everyone laughed.

Saturday, March 28, 2009


Yesterday I was at Mass with my household. As is our wont, we sat as close to the front as possible. So, when the priest (as is his wont, and the liturgical norm to boot) kissed the altar on his way out, I had a good view of it. I was somewhat surprised to find myself suddenly thinking, If I were a man I would be a priest just so I could do that.

(As a side note: I was very put out when, at the age of 8 or 9, I found out women couldn't be priests. When I was about 12 I decided that I would be the mother of a priest instead. I guess we'll see what my sons think of that idea....)

As I was praying after Mass, I wondered why it was that I was in such a state of longing. I mean, I had received the Eucharist perhaps ten minutes before. How much closer can you get? Even going and sitting against the Tabernacle would not have gotten me any closer to that Presence.

I don't know the answer to that question. Perhaps the Eucharist is as close as you can get, and my sinful little soul keeps me from receiving all the graces. Perhaps there is some way of getting closer; though likely I'll have to wait for Heaven to find that out.

The other day I had a sort of waking dream that I was climbing up the cross to lie on Jesus' chest and listen to His heartbeat. (Yes, I was lying on a vertical surface. It was a dreamlike state; physics do not apply.) That's how close I want to be. That's how much I want to want Him; that I go to him regardless of the fact that I'm getting His blood all over me; regardless of the fact that in order to be near Him I have to share His cross.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Roommate Sharing

Morgan [in the hallway of the classroom building]: "Megan, Megan!"

Me: "What?"

Morgan: "I have a really odd question. Do you know Jackie's class schedule?"

[long pause]

Me: "No. Why?"

Morgan: "I need to find her so I can ask to borrow her car."

Me: "Oh. Well, I have her number. You can go into our room and get it off my cell phone*."

Morgan: "I might do that."

*Of course, I did not have my cell phone on my person at the time. I am terrible about carrying/checking it.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

A Little Loaf

From the drafts folder, written 12-3-08:

The other day the Cobbler and I were talking about impatience. I'll just copy-past the relevant portions here (removal of unnecessary line breaks and names):

Me: I must work on that one. At least we complement each other that way.

Him: How so? I'm not so much patient as slow. 8^)

Me: You don't seem to get impatient with me, at any rate. I'm trying to think of how to express that. Because you do get impatient with the world and with stupid people. Just not with people who are loveable but annoying. 8^)

Him: What annoying?

Me: See? That's exactly my point. I am a very annoying person. I annoy myself.

Later on in the coversation, I said: You know, one of these days I'm going to stop trying to convince you that I'm an unloveable person and just accept the fact that you love me.

How hard can that be, to just believe that he is telling the truth when he says that he loves me and I am beautiful and wonderful?

Really hard, it turns out.

It's not a problem I haven't encountered before. In high school I had two good friends (they're still my friends) who basically got 2-3 years of Teenage Angst Uncensored. And still they loved me. I used to scold them for it. How was it that they saw my guts and still thought I was beautiful enough to be loved?

Shortly before the above conversation with the Cobbler, I was at Mass and during the homily the priest talked about the loaves and fishes and how the barley loaves are like love--you don't know how much you have until you start to give it away. (Maybe there's a reason I slept through the morning mass that day.)

Imagine Christ coming to you and saying, "Feed all these people," and you only have five little barley loaves. But then you give them away, and it turns out there is enough and more than enough.

I am so small and inadequate for this thing called love. Why would I let anyone see my tiny, paltry little contribution?

Because the act of giving makes it enough.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Once more, I am inordinately proud of myself

So, dear readers, this morning Mom and Dad were both out of the house so I was left in charge. After we all ate breakfast I ordered Kitty to go get dressed and dressed the Princess. Once Kitty was ready I had her watch the Princess while I got ready. Then the Princess and I brushed her hair and teeth.

When Mom and Dad got back at about 11, we were all of us ready for the day, sitting and watching The Lion King (the Princess walked up to the television and asked, "Wion?" and I acquiesed), with the Princess in her high chair eating yogurt.

Then Mom had me go out to Wal-Mart and I did a whole Wal-Mart trip in 45 minutes. I didn't even have to accost any helpful sales associates; I was able to find everything in the very first place I looked. That is a really. big. thing. for me.

I do realize that it was only the morning and not the whole day, and it would have been much harder if I'd had to, for instance, watch the Princess while getting myself ready, or take her to Wal-Mart with me, but still this is one of those days when I think that someday I'll be able to handle being alone with a baby all day.

Monday, March 16, 2009


There are days when my low point is really, really low...as in lying facedown on the floor and crying into the carpet.

And then the Princess comes over, says, "Cry? Cry? Okay?" and when I don't stop crying yells, "Mama!"

And my high point is when she comes and finds me later, asks, "Hug?" and gives me one.

My apologies

Well, dear readers, I managed to maintain some semblance of a posting schedule over a truly horrible midterm "week" (3 weeks, really) but now that I am on Spring Break I find that I am neglecting the blog.

I have had only very limited internet access of late, however. I spent Saturday and Sunday with the Cobbler's family, and so didn't check my email at all. They keep me busy. (Appearance-of-scandal note: I slept in his little sister's room. Just in case you're curious.)

Then this morning my computer announced that it was not feeling well, and until my dad can eliminate the virus I am computerless--I'm currently typing this on my mom's computer. So, I will be back to regular posting next week. Happy St. Patrick's Day, Feast of St. Joseph, etc...

I. Love. My. Family.

Mom: "Did I ever tell you about how my eyeball fell out at Payless?"

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I really don't understand sports

Me: "Which is more important, AA or A?"

Sports Editor: "AA. The more As, the more important it is."

Me: "So it's not like batteries where AAs are smaller?"

Because I haven't posted here in a week...

I'll recount a conversation that happened a few weeks ago during Troub layout night.

Editor-in-Cheif: "What's that?"

Sports Editor: [looks up from homework] "Quantitative Management."

Me: "What's that? Hiring more managers instead of better ones?"

Sunday, March 8, 2009

On the Shoulders of Giants

I'm still in the thick of midterms but my brain needs to stretch a little bit outside of the corrals of schoolwork...

My first semester at Franciscan, my Honors professor was Dr. S. Dr. S had a rather unique view of eduation--he thought that people should learn things. Novel, isn't it? He didn't really care at all about your ability to memorize and regurgitate facts. The only test was an oral final, and conversations with my classmates indicate that he gave each student a question based on a point he or she had made in class. Basically, you are expected to think if you take a class with Dr. S, but he does not rigidly compartmentalize you into a "right" way of thinking.

It was in Dr. S's class that I gained my love for the Classics--Homer and Sophocles and Plato and even dear silly Aristophanes. (Don't read him if you can't wade through locker-room humor in order to get to profundity.) None of these authors were Christian (especially not Mr. They Acted This in Respectable Theaters?), and so I had no exposure to them in my uber-Catholic highschool homeschool program. I had never heard of the playwrights, Plato was only a name (strung together with Socrates and Aristotle as if the three were simply extensions of each other, a horrible mischaracterization), and I had read The Iliad only because I have a best friend who calls herself the Greek Geek.

The point of this somewhat rambling post is that I don't at all like the idea first that children should be given textbooks for things like literature and history--bland, dead things, those textbooks. Second, I don't like the idea that they should be given only books that agree with a particular ideology, whether secular or Christian. I have it on good authority that it is almost impossible to read Aquinas unless you have first read Aristotle; the same probably goes for Augustine and the Platonists. We get our religious heritage from the Jews, and so we read the Old Testament (a book which is quite scandalous in its own right in many places...). We get our intellectual heritage from the Greeks and Romans, yet how many people these days have actually read The Odyssey rather than simply reading an oversimplified children's version of the story. How many people have even heard of The Orestia? I don't have the statistics that would answer that question. I just know that my kids are going to know all of those titles before they leave home for college.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009


I explained my purpose, something about tragic heroes and papers and secondary sources. The librarian took me over to the research terminal, sat down, and then turned and said, "I have one question. When is this paper due?"

"Later this week," I mumbled vaguely, shy of admitting that I'd started working on a paper all of 4 days before it was due. (Friday, and I started yesterday.)

"Oh good," she said, explaining how dreadful it is when students come the night before the paper is due and she can't find anything for them.

One of these days I'm going to figure out that not everybody likes to start papers a week before they're due.

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Cobbler Comments

Midterms are upon me, so I'm copping out on you by providing a "guest post" of sorts by my beloved. He disagrees very much with my last post, and makes some very good points. Since this blog is about question-asking rather than answer-giving, I thought I'd put it up here for those of you who don't read the comments section.

(This is all the Cobbler's writing and has not been edited in any way:)

Not really. A restore point sets the system back how it was. God's restoration of grace _generally_ does not wipe out concupiscence (because of our lacking, mind you) or fix all the problems caused by our previous sin. Further, original sin comes from the start for an individual other than Adam and Eve -- Baptism would be like a restore point fixing up a computer to better than it started as, like an upgrade rather (more on that in a minute). Unless one was using the analogy to the whole human race, with the restore point being the restoration of human nature (the general redemption of man) and the file recovery being the individual redemption of individual humans. Even then it's a very loose analogy because Christ's not a backup copy of us, He's one of the files Himeself.

On Baptism as upgrade I must answer yes and no. In Baptism our human nature is restored and the divine nature, in grace, is added. In an upgrade the ultimate nature of the computer as a computer remains but the nature of it as whatever particular thing it is is entirely revamped. It'd be like Baptism leaving us animals but making us angelic rather than like fixing us humans and making us divine.

Maybe a better one is corruption of files and/or the system by viruses or by simple mismanagement. Mortal sin would be like getting the system corrupted, venial ones like getting individual files corrupted. It tends to spread (especially if it's a virus or similar problem) or at least disrupt other aspects than the specific corrupted thing, and while it can generally be put back in working order it is hard to undo all the damage. The flaw in this analogy is that it's the user's (i.e. our) imperfection that prevents the decorruption/anti-virus stuff from being %100 effective and the ultimate source of the fixing (God) is in no way lacking in the job He does, which doesn't parallel well or easily to the computer analogy at all.

In short, no, we're just not much like computers as far as salvation goes.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Sometimes you just have to laugh

Some time ago I posted a list of six quirks. My sixth quirk was that I wear a lot of blue.

Seriously. I wear a lot of blue.

When I went on the March for Life, Mari said that she was able to find me because she knew I would be wearing blue. (I was. Then again, our official Franciscan March for Life t-shirts seem to generally be light blue; perhaps because it is a color that is liked by both boys and girls.)

The Princess, not even 2 1/2 years old, has already figured out that blue=Megan. Seriously. When Mom asks her to name her colors: "Ornee. Yeyow. Megan!" Apparently it has gotten to the point where if she sees someone in a light blue shirt she gets all excited because she thinks it's me.

Someday, one of my kids is going to wander off in the grocery store and they will know what their mommy is wearing. So there.