I arrived "home" to my sister's house in the Republic close to 2am after a full night: some competitive frisbee and a rousing game of Marco Polo, immediately followed by basketball-watching and movie-watching with a home-brew in hand, with a bit of simultaneous "hands-on-a-friend" physical therapy practice.
I felt like I should call someone and tell them I got home safely.
But my cell phone's in Colorado, and nobody needs to know, anyway.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Forced Vacation
I accidentally left my cell phone in Denver for the "whole seven days" that I'm in the Republic. This means the lack of a morning alarm clock, as well as the absence of a back-up to check what time it "really" is (I can never remember, is my watch set 2 minutes fast, or 4 minutes fast? or did I set it 15 minutes ahead when I switched to Central Time?)
Fortunately, my sister and brother-in-law do not need to wake up until 6:25am, and ideally, by that time, I am in the pew at the local monastery for Mass. So I've been in possession of their pager alarm until I get up in the morning, at which time I reset it and place it gently next to their bed. (Except, of course, for the day where I forgot to set the correct date on the pager alarm and was awakened by my guardian angel at 6:31am--quickly resetting the alarm for 6:35am and placing it gently,...etc)
The advantage of not having my phone is that I'm starting to memorize a few phone numbers again. It's nice to know I have not lost that ability.
Tonight, after a gathering at my sister's house of old and new friends, one of the girls asked me for my phone number so that she could contact me in the next few days. It was strange giving her my sister's home phone number, as if I'd known it for a long time. I actually just learned it last Wednesday, when I called my mother on my way to the airport to tell her I did not have my cell phone. (My home number is one of the few I still know by heart--lucky for them at 5:30 in the morning!)
The disadvantages to not having my phone? Well, I don't hear my ring, As Time Goes By, at random intervals throughout the day--although sometimes I still think I do! Other than that, ...no complaints. It's rather nice having a break from always needing to remember to bring it with me, always looking at it to see if somebody's trying to reach me.
I still take my sister's cell phone with me when I run out to the grocery store or go to visit friends. But somehow, it's not the same. It has the same temporary "borrowing" feeling as driving her car while I'm here: it's in my possession now, but it won't be for long, so I can't become attached.
One thing I've learned from this experience: I do not like my voicemail message. That will have to change when I get back to Denver!
Fortunately, my sister and brother-in-law do not need to wake up until 6:25am, and ideally, by that time, I am in the pew at the local monastery for Mass. So I've been in possession of their pager alarm until I get up in the morning, at which time I reset it and place it gently next to their bed. (Except, of course, for the day where I forgot to set the correct date on the pager alarm and was awakened by my guardian angel at 6:31am--quickly resetting the alarm for 6:35am and placing it gently,...etc)
The advantage of not having my phone is that I'm starting to memorize a few phone numbers again. It's nice to know I have not lost that ability.
Tonight, after a gathering at my sister's house of old and new friends, one of the girls asked me for my phone number so that she could contact me in the next few days. It was strange giving her my sister's home phone number, as if I'd known it for a long time. I actually just learned it last Wednesday, when I called my mother on my way to the airport to tell her I did not have my cell phone. (My home number is one of the few I still know by heart--lucky for them at 5:30 in the morning!)
The disadvantages to not having my phone? Well, I don't hear my ring, As Time Goes By, at random intervals throughout the day--although sometimes I still think I do! Other than that, ...no complaints. It's rather nice having a break from always needing to remember to bring it with me, always looking at it to see if somebody's trying to reach me.
I still take my sister's cell phone with me when I run out to the grocery store or go to visit friends. But somehow, it's not the same. It has the same temporary "borrowing" feeling as driving her car while I'm here: it's in my possession now, but it won't be for long, so I can't become attached.
One thing I've learned from this experience: I do not like my voicemail message. That will have to change when I get back to Denver!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Update(s)?
I have posted plenty in my head, but I guess that doesn’t really count!
I shall now give a quick summary of “life since April.”
Highlights from April:
One spontaneous road trip with my boyfriend down to Dallas for Easter. I not only spent time with my sister's young family of five children, but I also met some excellent people, and had fun hanging out with a few old friends.
One last large presentation of the semester successfully presented by myself and three faithful study-buddies to the rest of my classmates and professors.
I shall now give a quick summary of “life since April.”
Highlights from April:
One spontaneous road trip with my boyfriend down to Dallas for Easter. I not only spent time with my sister's young family of five children, but I also met some excellent people, and had fun hanging out with a few old friends.
One last large presentation of the semester successfully presented by myself and three faithful study-buddies to the rest of my classmates and professors.
Finally, the spinal cord rehab unit of the curriculum—what I’ve been waiting for all year long! It only lasted three weeks, but it was so much fun; I loved it. I also got the opportunity to join in on an informal wheelchair rugby pick-up game with members of the New York and Connecticut wheelchair rugby teams. “C’mon! Get in the chair! We’ll go easy on you—promise, you won’t get flipped out.” (I didn’t; they were very nice…)
One gorgeous wedding, the groom being a member of my Connecticut Italian family, and the bride a beautiful, creative, and holy young woman who has become a great friend of mine.
more Update(s)
Highlights from May:
END OF SCHOOL!! Hurray! And I passed everything (come to find out later). I was able to enjoy a few days of freedom and relaxation even while I was packing up all of my belongings to get ready to …
COME HOME!! Sweet, mountainous Colorado, home of the purple Columbines and expansive blue skies. Mom flew out, and she and I made a quick road trip of it, only taking two and a half days to travel more than 1800 miles. Neither rain nor heat delayed us. We arrived in time to catch the second half of my youngest sister’s last soccer game of the season. I immediately made it a point to connect with all my friends who have had babies since I was home at Christmas, and introduce myself to said babies as a potentially influential character in their future lives! =b
END OF SCHOOL!! Hurray! And I passed everything (come to find out later). I was able to enjoy a few days of freedom and relaxation even while I was packing up all of my belongings to get ready to …
COME HOME!! Sweet, mountainous Colorado, home of the purple Columbines and expansive blue skies. Mom flew out, and she and I made a quick road trip of it, only taking two and a half days to travel more than 1800 miles. Neither rain nor heat delayed us. We arrived in time to catch the second half of my youngest sister’s last soccer game of the season. I immediately made it a point to connect with all my friends who have had babies since I was home at Christmas, and introduce myself to said babies as a potentially influential character in their future lives! =b
I also made it a point to attend as many of my youngest sisters’ concerts and activities as possible before it was required of me to …
RESUME WORK at both of my old haunts: as a barista at the antique-furnished coffee shop, and as a bartender/waitress at the beautiful, historic Inn and Restaurant in the little hippy-town next to us. Before my schedule became too packed up, however, I took a few personal days and …
VISITED SOUTH DAKOTA to visit some college friends and see their beautiful, quickly-growing children. I could only spend about one day there, but it was worth it to connect with the family before they move to California this summer. My name to the adorable little girl on Mommy’s right was “Dish.” I think she was going for at least one phonetic sound she recognized. On my way back from South Dakota, I stopped in Denver to go for a run at least once with my one of my previous roommates in preparation for our Memorial Day …
10K RACE, which we ran with her fiancée. It was so much fun, after not doing it together for two years. Certain traditions die hard, and that includes the Bolder Boulder. We woke up early, toasted bagels, and gathered our running paraphernalia as if we’d never lived apart. Across the aisle from one another on the shuttle bus, we read each others’ thoughts as if we were speaking out loud (dramatically).
“We’ll be late for our start time, but it’s ok! We’re doing this for fun.”
“Yeah, but we paid money, we got up early enough to get here on time, and they start our individual times when our wave starts.”
“Our goal isn’t to make a certain time; we’re doing it together again. It’s just a great day to be together and running a race after so long. I’m not used to this altitude running yet, anyway.”
“I just don’t want anything to go wrong today, and it’s getting off to a sketchy start.”
“We can run to the start line when we get off the bus.”“I have to stop at the bathrooms.”
And a good time was had by all. In fact, when it was over, we decided to register together for a half marathon in the Black Hills of South Dakota in October—something to work for, something else to look forward to! On the last day of May, I …
HIT A VAN with my faithful little Count Von Count. The other driver decided to make a left turn in front of me from the opposite direction (while my light was green). Count took it bravely, only allowing one of his headlights to become completely smashed in (“one beautiful headlight, ah, ah, ah!). However, it was a pain and very upsetting, as I was on my way to a friend’s birthday party, and still very much out of luck on the financial side of things. Poor little Count is still being fixed by our trusty auto shop.
Recent Highlights:
On the first day of June, my true love sent to me: just kidding. But I did have a phone conversation with my boyfriend that ended with the addition of his name to my growing “ex-boyfriend” list. On the bright side, it is one of the most peaceful, friendly break-ups I’ve experienced. I look forward to resuming our friendship when I return to Connecticut.
On the second day of June, I received an email from a friend I haven’t heard from in several months, telling me he’ll be out of the Army in July and living back in Colorado by mid-August. Seeing him again is something to look forward to. It’s an interesting exchange; I’ll teach him swing dance moves and tell him more about my Catholic faith, he’ll teach me random Arabic words and tell me about the contraptions he’s built in his house. Aside from being extremely intelligent and funny, as well as musically, mathematically, and athletically talented, he’s one of the most humble individuals I’ve ever met. He is one of those people of natural virtue that makes you imagine with thrills where the sacraments might lead them, if ever they were to accept them. And I keep praying….
Now I’m in Dallas again, visiting my sister’s family “for seven whole days!!” my nieces and nephews keep reminding me. “Mama, has Auntie been here for seven days yet?” Today I tried to “help out” and sponge-paint the dining room walls of some friends’ apartment. Aside from their assurances and reassurances that the walls look fine, I must say that my first attempt at artistic interior design is doomed to look like polka-dots. Ah, well.
There is talk of having a general barbeque-like gathering of Dallas friends—old and new—this weekend at my sister and brother-in-law’s house. We’re also looking to take the kids and go see one of my cousins play collegiate league ball. He’s in Texas again this summer, and playing at a relatively nearby field tomorrow night.
Stay Tuned:
My dear friend and old roommate is getting married at the end of June. I cannot wait; she and her fiancée were definitely intended for one another from all eternity. I love it when you can see that in a couple. The reception will be wrought with Polish traditions—much of which involves breaking things, as far as I understand! It also involves polka, which will be a lot of fun!
My outpatient orthopedic clinical rotation begins July 3rd. I’m hopeful that it will be a great learning experience; I especially hope that I will put my heart into it, despite the fact that being home gives me plenty of opportunity for distraction, including practical family schedule considerations.
By September, it will be time to drive back to Connecticut again for my last year of graduate school…ever!!!
But … “give us this day, our daily bread,”…
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
No tagging ...
Yay! A new contest from an obviously well-rounded friend. Here's the gyst:
The object is to stump the readership. To play, post a quote from a movie which you think others will not guess. It must be in some way peculiar to that movie (i.e., entries like "Hello." are not acceptable). To post your quote, you must first correctly guess the movie of the previous post. For example, if I post "Exits are here here here here here here here anywhere", you must first guess "Aladdin" before you can post your own quote. If you guess wrong you are eliminated. If no one guesses your post correctly for 24 hrs, you win. The reward is one dollar. The movie genera is live-action children's movies. Researching the quotes, whether on the internet or in any other way, is cheating.
We'll start with strawberry ice; and then some cake and tea.
The object is to stump the readership. To play, post a quote from a movie which you think others will not guess. It must be in some way peculiar to that movie (i.e., entries like "Hello." are not acceptable). To post your quote, you must first correctly guess the movie of the previous post. For example, if I post "Exits are here here here here here here here anywhere", you must first guess "Aladdin" before you can post your own quote. If you guess wrong you are eliminated. If no one guesses your post correctly for 24 hrs, you win. The reward is one dollar. The movie genera is live-action children's movies. Researching the quotes, whether on the internet or in any other way, is cheating.
We'll start with strawberry ice; and then some cake and tea.
Sprint!!!
Capstone is over. Capstone is the name of this program's research presentation that takes the place of a dissertation. We will have another one next semester, but it will be different, somehow. My group presented March 29th, and the weekend following was very enjoyable--with just enough stress to keep me wary of my time, but no tears!
Monday we will start the Spinal Cord unit, which will run for the rest of the semester; it's sort of the culmination of everything we've learned thus far, since doing rehabilitation for a spinal cord injury involves so many different systems. I've been looking forward to to this unit all year long!
This week, then, was our final week with some of the professors. Friday morning found donuts, fruit, muffins, juice, and coffee at the front of the classroom. Everyone was sad to say goodbye. Sure, we'll see them everyday for the remainder of our time there, but it's not the same as having them in class.
These professors are truly amazing, and their ability to raise students to a high level of professionalism with their expectations and demands is inspiring. They started treating us like professional colleagues when we first arrived, and although we've come to respect them more and more, we've also become closer and closer to them over the past two years.
One professor that I especially get along with offered to go over some things with me after class today.
"Let's sit down," he said.
"If you don't mind, I'll stand," I replied, "because I've been sitting all morning."
"Ok, that's fine. I'll sit, though," he answered. Then, "Oh, wait, you know what? I'm going to lie down, actually."
He then proceeded to lie down on a treatment table in our lab room, while I stood by another table, my books all spread out, open to different pages.
We began discussing anatomy and differential diagnosis of various shoulder pathologies, when I experienced a moment of perspective, realizing that it was not at all odd to me that my professor was lying on his back with his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling, as he expounded on the significance of different tests at the shoulder joint.
After running through some material for an upcoming quiz on Monday, the topic naturally turned to the order of the curriculum and how things are managed. He bounced some of his thoughts off of me, and I gave him some feedback. It struck me later how it was not at all strange that our conversation then went from the need for a more structured anatomy class to how my boyfriend is doing and when we'll both be available to make mead with him before I leave for my summer clinical rotation.
As we said goodbye, he gave me some words of encouragement about not expecting all the gaps to be filled right now--about expecting to learn a lot from clinical experience and continued study. He also gave me an analogy to hang onto with regard to the rest of this semester.
"What do you do when you're on the last quarter-mile of a race ...and all that lactic acid is really starting to course through your body ...and all you want to do is stop and throw in the towel?"
The answer, of course, is to say a prayer, visualize the finish line, and find a deeper source of energy to draw from. Then, ...sprint!
So here we are, and here I go; about to embark on the final sprint of this semester.
Prayers are always appreciated.
Monday we will start the Spinal Cord unit, which will run for the rest of the semester; it's sort of the culmination of everything we've learned thus far, since doing rehabilitation for a spinal cord injury involves so many different systems. I've been looking forward to to this unit all year long!
This week, then, was our final week with some of the professors. Friday morning found donuts, fruit, muffins, juice, and coffee at the front of the classroom. Everyone was sad to say goodbye. Sure, we'll see them everyday for the remainder of our time there, but it's not the same as having them in class.
These professors are truly amazing, and their ability to raise students to a high level of professionalism with their expectations and demands is inspiring. They started treating us like professional colleagues when we first arrived, and although we've come to respect them more and more, we've also become closer and closer to them over the past two years.
One professor that I especially get along with offered to go over some things with me after class today.
"Let's sit down," he said.
"If you don't mind, I'll stand," I replied, "because I've been sitting all morning."
"Ok, that's fine. I'll sit, though," he answered. Then, "Oh, wait, you know what? I'm going to lie down, actually."
He then proceeded to lie down on a treatment table in our lab room, while I stood by another table, my books all spread out, open to different pages.
We began discussing anatomy and differential diagnosis of various shoulder pathologies, when I experienced a moment of perspective, realizing that it was not at all odd to me that my professor was lying on his back with his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling, as he expounded on the significance of different tests at the shoulder joint.
After running through some material for an upcoming quiz on Monday, the topic naturally turned to the order of the curriculum and how things are managed. He bounced some of his thoughts off of me, and I gave him some feedback. It struck me later how it was not at all strange that our conversation then went from the need for a more structured anatomy class to how my boyfriend is doing and when we'll both be available to make mead with him before I leave for my summer clinical rotation.
As we said goodbye, he gave me some words of encouragement about not expecting all the gaps to be filled right now--about expecting to learn a lot from clinical experience and continued study. He also gave me an analogy to hang onto with regard to the rest of this semester.
"What do you do when you're on the last quarter-mile of a race ...and all that lactic acid is really starting to course through your body ...and all you want to do is stop and throw in the towel?"
The answer, of course, is to say a prayer, visualize the finish line, and find a deeper source of energy to draw from. Then, ...sprint!
So here we are, and here I go; about to embark on the final sprint of this semester.
Prayers are always appreciated.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Confession
The soul calls weight upon weight unto itself.
And in so little time
I am here again.
Barely able to lift my head after digging into its depths.
Wishing for bare feet as my echoing heels at once announce and condemn this sinner's presence.
Certainly, that old woman in her silent pew could see the guilt spilling over,
If only she lifted her head.
But she loudly whispers her beads and clicks her worn shoes against the kneeler behind,
Convincing the dark church of her non-judgement, while I seem to feel the halo pulsing under her black wool hat.
The heavy curtain retracts at my touch--or does it welcome me, ushering in the prodigal, not to lose another moment of grace?
"Bless me, Father, ..."
Contaminating the air, filling that small box with evil words, revolt upon revolt against Divine love.
They linger for a moment, then crumble.
How many words have crumbled against the panels of this stall, smashed to nothingness by the form of the sacrament, washed away by penitent tears?
At the name of Jesus, the devil runs away.
"Thunk!" The window of mercy has allowed its miracle.
The curtain is drawn and morning light falls in through colored glass.
Still the loud whispering, still the darkness, but a new stillness.
"Grace abounds all the more"* and I renew my promises.
My love returns to find His never changing.
An infinite distance spanned in the period of an old woman's prayer.
Soft footsteps hurry by and I lift my head to watch God's instrument of grace ascend the altar.
He gave his life to serve the Church:
To serve the Creator and the creature, the Redeemer and the sinner.
His alarm also calls at dawn, but it calls a battle-cry:
Contend with the evil in those you must also love!
Bring Christ to these broken hearts!
Must not his valiant heart hate my sins more than I?
Is he not burdened? Is he not weary?
Why does he not stoop?
The Lord calls sinner upon sinner unto Himself.
*Rom 5:20
And in so little time
I am here again.
Barely able to lift my head after digging into its depths.
Wishing for bare feet as my echoing heels at once announce and condemn this sinner's presence.
Certainly, that old woman in her silent pew could see the guilt spilling over,
If only she lifted her head.
But she loudly whispers her beads and clicks her worn shoes against the kneeler behind,
Convincing the dark church of her non-judgement, while I seem to feel the halo pulsing under her black wool hat.
The heavy curtain retracts at my touch--or does it welcome me, ushering in the prodigal, not to lose another moment of grace?
"Bless me, Father, ..."
Contaminating the air, filling that small box with evil words, revolt upon revolt against Divine love.
They linger for a moment, then crumble.
How many words have crumbled against the panels of this stall, smashed to nothingness by the form of the sacrament, washed away by penitent tears?
At the name of Jesus, the devil runs away.
"Thunk!" The window of mercy has allowed its miracle.
The curtain is drawn and morning light falls in through colored glass.
Still the loud whispering, still the darkness, but a new stillness.
"Grace abounds all the more"* and I renew my promises.
My love returns to find His never changing.
An infinite distance spanned in the period of an old woman's prayer.
Soft footsteps hurry by and I lift my head to watch God's instrument of grace ascend the altar.
He gave his life to serve the Church:
To serve the Creator and the creature, the Redeemer and the sinner.
His alarm also calls at dawn, but it calls a battle-cry:
Contend with the evil in those you must also love!
Bring Christ to these broken hearts!
Must not his valiant heart hate my sins more than I?
Is he not burdened? Is he not weary?
Why does he not stoop?
The Lord calls sinner upon sinner unto Himself.
*Rom 5:20
Monday, February 27, 2006
Fifteen!
You know the joke... three snotty young women--a brunette, a redhead, and a blonde--walk into a bar and order drinks from a new, inexperienced cocktail waitress.
Brunette: I'll have a G and T.
Waitress: Excuse me? What is that exactly?
Brunette: Duh-huh! It's "gin and tonic."
Redhead: I'll have a Smith and Kearns.
Waitress: I'm sorry, what is that?
Redhead: Duh-huh! It's "kahlua and cream."
Blonde: I'll have a 15.
Waitress: Umm, I'm not sure I--
Blonde: Duh-huh! It's a "seven and seven."
So the connection is, I would not be posting during this (very busy!) last week before spring break if I had not been tagged by Portia Bean.
I have time to read her blog, so I guess I have time to post the tag...!
So here we go: Forty-nine
(otherwise referred to as 7x7)
Seven things to do before I die:
1. Get married and have children.
2. Climb a mountain in South America.
3. Correspond with letters.
4. Visit Poland.
5. Compete in a triathlon.
6. Return to the Philippines.
7. Learn Portuguese.
Seven things I cannot do:
1. Pull-ups (my upper body strength has always been very limited).
2. Allow precision of vocabulary to slide when I'm engaged in an argument.
3. Conquer my pride (it's difficult for me to think of things I cannot do!)
4. Run on a treadmill (I need to be outside when I'm running)
5. Keep track of my belongings (i.e., leave an area with as many items as I came with)
6. Play volleyball (I'm afraid of the ball; it hurts my arms--#1 on this list might be related)
7. Make my brain work past 11pm.
Seven things that attract me to … my Other Half:
I am not yet married (see #1 of "Before I Die")
Seven things I say:
1. Holy cow! / Good heavens!
2. I don't kah-no (phonetic pronunciation of "know").
3. Oh, please...(as in, gimme a break)
4. Out loud, dramatically (specifically, when speaking of reading or reciting something)
5. Are you hungry? / Would you like some tea? (apparently, Chestnut says I always say these things to him...maybe because I always see him around mealtimes?)
6. What are you thinking about? (Chestnut says I always say this, too--but it might have to do with his tendency to become quiet and thoughtful)
7. God bless.
Seven books I love:
1. Late Have I Loved Thee Ethel Mannin
2. A Right to be Merry Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C.
3. On the Incarnation Saint Athanasius
4. Father Elijah Michael O'Brien
5. James and the Giant Peach Roald Dahl
6. Come Rack! Come Rope! Robert Hugh Benson
7. Kristin Lavransdatter Sigrid Undset
Seven movies that I’ve loved:
1. Return to Me
2. Princess Bride
3. Braveheart
4. Just Like Heaven
5. Pride and Prejudice (the 6-hr A&E version)
6. Life is Beautiful
7. Dave and the Giant Pickle
Seven people to meme:
1. Whiskey
2. Erin-Roommate (what the heck; let's keep trying!)
3. WindMillTilter
4. Anna-Not
...and that's enough for now because 15 minus 7 equals 8, and 4 is half of 8.
And this just in ...
Annoucing the birth of John Charles Remstad! He emerged today, February 27th, weighing in at 8lbs, 14-1/2 oz, after 32 long and hard hours of labor. Both mother and baby (as well as father!) are fine, and all are happy that it's over!
Little John has the distinct privelege of being born on the same day as the widely renowned (in smallish circles)"Big Vic" Vincent.
Welcome to this crazy world, John!
Brunette: I'll have a G and T.
Waitress: Excuse me? What is that exactly?
Brunette: Duh-huh! It's "gin and tonic."
Redhead: I'll have a Smith and Kearns.
Waitress: I'm sorry, what is that?
Redhead: Duh-huh! It's "kahlua and cream."
Blonde: I'll have a 15.
Waitress: Umm, I'm not sure I--
Blonde: Duh-huh! It's a "seven and seven."
So the connection is, I would not be posting during this (very busy!) last week before spring break if I had not been tagged by Portia Bean.
I have time to read her blog, so I guess I have time to post the tag...!
So here we go: Forty-nine
(otherwise referred to as 7x7)
Seven things to do before I die:
1. Get married and have children.
2. Climb a mountain in South America.
3. Correspond with letters.
4. Visit Poland.
5. Compete in a triathlon.
6. Return to the Philippines.
7. Learn Portuguese.
Seven things I cannot do:
1. Pull-ups (my upper body strength has always been very limited).
2. Allow precision of vocabulary to slide when I'm engaged in an argument.
3. Conquer my pride (it's difficult for me to think of things I cannot do!)
4. Run on a treadmill (I need to be outside when I'm running)
5. Keep track of my belongings (i.e., leave an area with as many items as I came with)
6. Play volleyball (I'm afraid of the ball; it hurts my arms--#1 on this list might be related)
7. Make my brain work past 11pm.
Seven things that attract me to … my Other Half:
I am not yet married (see #1 of "Before I Die")
Seven things I say:
1. Holy cow! / Good heavens!
2. I don't kah-no (phonetic pronunciation of "know").
3. Oh, please...(as in, gimme a break)
4. Out loud, dramatically (specifically, when speaking of reading or reciting something)
5. Are you hungry? / Would you like some tea? (apparently, Chestnut says I always say these things to him...maybe because I always see him around mealtimes?)
6. What are you thinking about? (Chestnut says I always say this, too--but it might have to do with his tendency to become quiet and thoughtful)
7. God bless.
Seven books I love:
1. Late Have I Loved Thee Ethel Mannin
2. A Right to be Merry Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C.
3. On the Incarnation Saint Athanasius
4. Father Elijah Michael O'Brien
5. James and the Giant Peach Roald Dahl
6. Come Rack! Come Rope! Robert Hugh Benson
7. Kristin Lavransdatter Sigrid Undset
Seven movies that I’ve loved:
1. Return to Me
2. Princess Bride
3. Braveheart
4. Just Like Heaven
5. Pride and Prejudice (the 6-hr A&E version)
6. Life is Beautiful
7. Dave and the Giant Pickle
Seven people to meme:
1. Whiskey
2. Erin-Roommate (what the heck; let's keep trying!)
3. WindMillTilter
4. Anna-Not
...and that's enough for now because 15 minus 7 equals 8, and 4 is half of 8.
And this just in ...
Annoucing the birth of John Charles Remstad! He emerged today, February 27th, weighing in at 8lbs, 14-1/2 oz, after 32 long and hard hours of labor. Both mother and baby (as well as father!) are fine, and all are happy that it's over!
Little John has the distinct privelege of being born on the same day as the widely renowned (in smallish circles)"Big Vic" Vincent.
Welcome to this crazy world, John!
Monday, February 13, 2006
Let it Snow
Weekend blizzard
We went for a walk after I felt like I had gotten a sufficient amount of schoolwork done on Sunday.
By that time, the plows had been through a few times; instead of getting our trousers snowy, we concerned ourselves with not slipping on the ice underneath the fine layer of fresh snow.
It was cold, but very still and very white and therefore, very pretty. Everywhere we walked, people were outside of their houses, digging vehicles out from underneath the snow drifts, anticipating Monday morning.
Sacred Heart University was open today--no cancellations, no delays.
Stamford school district, however, had the entire day off! Luckies....
And there's still snow on the ground, and it's still a bit chilly outside.
The storm conflicted with the original weekend plans, but it turned out to be a good time of balancing academic productivity with old-fashioned relaxation.
Prayers requested: first big exam of the semester this Wednesday, followed by a difficult meeting.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Could You Embrace That?
I said to God again,
“Beloved I need to love you – every aspect, every pore.”
And this time God said,
“There is a hideous blemish on my body,
though it is such an infinitesimal part of my Being-
could you kiss that if it were revealed?”
“I will try, Lord, I will try.”
And then God said,
“That blemish is all the hatred and
cruelty in this
world.”
“There is a hideous blemish on my body,
though it is such an infinitesimal part of my Being-
could you kiss that if it were revealed?”
“I will try, Lord, I will try.”
And then God said,
“That blemish is all the hatred and
cruelty in this
world.”
~St. Thomas Aquinas
I have come to love the three children in the family whom I help out during the week. They are like younger siblings to me. Different events have inspired this realization.
Once, when Andrew's physical therapist was on his honeymoon, a substitute came in to conduct the weekly aquatic therapy session. I knew that Andrew's regular PT, Scott, had informed this substitute about all of his patients, and that she was an experienced, competent therapist. But I was nervous for the entire hour, knowing that she did not know Andrew like I did, praying that she wouldn't push him too hard or expect too much, hoping that she would praise him sufficiently for how hard he was working under these altered conditions.
I marveled at how Andrew's super-capable and energetic mother, Kris, was able to send me off to the club pool with him a few days after I started working for the family.
When I arrived at their house today, Andrew's older brother Henry greeted me with the news that his mom and Andrew went to New York for a consult with an orthopedist. Henry and I sat side by side in the dining room doing our respective schoolwork, then we played a board game until the rest of the family came home. Henry is the oldest at 11, but is still so young and innocent. A few months ago, he was temporarily home alone. I was with his mother when he called her cell phone in a panic: there was a woman ringing the doorbell and he was afraid to open the door. Apparently, she kept would not go away, but kept ringing the doorbell. My heart ached for him as I listened to Kris' sympathetic but calm instructions to go into the master bedroom, close the door, and put the T.V. on for 10 minutes until she returned home. He'll be a teenager soon, but for now, his parents are his stronghold and he knows where to place his trust.
The youngest, Ellen, 6 years old, trudged in the door first this afternoon, leaving shoes and jacket in her path as she ambled farther into the house. When she heard my voice shouting "hello?" from the living room, she immediately switched gears, scurrying in to pounce on me, hug me, and hang off my elbows, begging that I play with her next. She can be a disciplinary disaster sometimes, but somehow, a bond has been formed. Although she squirmed away in the shower when I tried to scrub shampoo through her hair, five minutes later she was giggling as I wrapped the bath towel around her in a bear hug. I smiled later on this evening as she shouted repeatedly, "Can I have Oreos now? I ate the red part of my pizza. I did. Look. Can I? Can I please have some Oreos?"
And then things happen that makes me wonder why children have to lose their innocence. Henry, Andrew, Ellen, ...eventually they will face extreme ugliness, evil, hatred. Somehow, someday, they will be exposed to the cruelty of the world outside their loving home. Hopefully, they will be shocked and horrified; but also, I pray it will not cause them doubt or anxiety.
Their worries are so pure right now. Andrew became distressed on Sunday when he did not participate in the closing hymn at church. Henry ran across the street to the neighbors' house Saturday to report his parents were lost, because he did not see them resting on the living room couch. Ellen threw a mild tantrum last week when I could not stay to blow-dry her hair before bedtime.
I cannot imagine these beautiful, happy children having to fight on the harsh battlefields of high school pressures and college temptations.
I know I would go after anyone who tried to harm these kids. How difficult to raise children in this world!
But then, kissing the blemish that is "all the hatred and cruelty in the world" ... this is the greater challenge. God loves His creatures even when they pervert His creation. And I am a perverter just as much as the next sinner. I contribute to the world where children lose their innocence and build up barriers to love. Yet God continues to offer His grace and forgiveness "as we forgive those who trespass against us." The challenge is to go and do the same.
Could you embrace that?
Monday, January 30, 2006
Italian family
While in Connecticut, I've become an adjunct member of Frank's family. The problem with being so busy, though, is that there are spans of time where I am not able to see much of them.
I receive remarks such as, "What you don't like us anymore?" from Frank's brother John Paul, or "Hey, stranger! I'm so glad to see you're still alive," from Angela, his fiancee. Last weekend after Mass, Frank's mother came up to me in the vestibule with her eyebrows raised: "I miss you," she said, very sincerely, almost sternly.
So this past week, I found a half hour to stop by the house and say hello. It continually amazes me how welcoming the family is to me--my entrance was as joyous as a long-lost friend, and as comfortable as a daughter of the house. After greetings and hugs and expressions of gratitude that I came, I was immediately led down into the basement to inspect the rennovations being done on John Paul and Angela's future apartment.
And yesterday, for the first time since before Thanksgiving, I was able to attend Sunday dinner at Sharon's house. It was Tony's first invitation: Sharon said it was his baptism into the Marchetti Sunday dinners. :)
Not everyone was there--only about half of the family could make it--but the Marchetti grandchildren were all present, which makes up a lot of the bustling and noise and laughter that draws everyone together. And of course, the political theory and religious updates and critique of culture were all loudly put forth and thrown around the table.
Sometimes I put my two cents in when I feel the need (usually every possible viewpoint is already represented!) but generally, I like to sit back. Literally. I sit back in my chair, look around, smile, and thank God for these good people who have welcomed me into their hearts.
I am blessed with this special sort of familial support, even living so far from the stronghold of my parents' love and encouragement. They can never give me what I receive from my true family--not even close--but their generous love and concern surround me like armor and prepare me for another week.
And so the week begins...
I receive remarks such as, "What you don't like us anymore?" from Frank's brother John Paul, or "Hey, stranger! I'm so glad to see you're still alive," from Angela, his fiancee. Last weekend after Mass, Frank's mother came up to me in the vestibule with her eyebrows raised: "I miss you," she said, very sincerely, almost sternly.
So this past week, I found a half hour to stop by the house and say hello. It continually amazes me how welcoming the family is to me--my entrance was as joyous as a long-lost friend, and as comfortable as a daughter of the house. After greetings and hugs and expressions of gratitude that I came, I was immediately led down into the basement to inspect the rennovations being done on John Paul and Angela's future apartment.
And yesterday, for the first time since before Thanksgiving, I was able to attend Sunday dinner at Sharon's house. It was Tony's first invitation: Sharon said it was his baptism into the Marchetti Sunday dinners. :)
Not everyone was there--only about half of the family could make it--but the Marchetti grandchildren were all present, which makes up a lot of the bustling and noise and laughter that draws everyone together. And of course, the political theory and religious updates and critique of culture were all loudly put forth and thrown around the table.
Sometimes I put my two cents in when I feel the need (usually every possible viewpoint is already represented!) but generally, I like to sit back. Literally. I sit back in my chair, look around, smile, and thank God for these good people who have welcomed me into their hearts.
I am blessed with this special sort of familial support, even living so far from the stronghold of my parents' love and encouragement. They can never give me what I receive from my true family--not even close--but their generous love and concern surround me like armor and prepare me for another week.
And so the week begins...
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Angelic Painter
Went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art today to check out the Fra Angelico exhibit. It's only there until tomorrow, so we had to get down there!
It was beautiful. Not as good as seeing the actual cell walls at San Marco in Florence, but it was well worth the time, effort, and admission donation.
We took the train down from Stamford. There was short-lived apprehension while I located my ticket for the conductor in one of my many pockets on the way down. I then handed it over to Tony for safe-keeping. We are alike in many ways. Unfortunately, some of those ways are all too uncomplementary: first of all, both of us are lacking in sense of direction, although I seem to be able to muster it when I'm making an effort. Today, however, it was discovered that we share the inability to keep things from getting lost. Either that or it's contagious. Whichever way it works, he lost my ticket--although he did not lose his own, which was interesting. He ended up paying for my train ride (a second time) when we got back on the train this afternoon to go home ....
Memories of Paris with lovely friend, Alissa: Buying a ten-pack of subway passes ... half an hour later, looking in every pocket I own, frantically searching, but laughing with my friend at the irony of it all ... Alissa being in charge of "all important documents except the passport" from that point onward ...
I used to think it'd get better as I get older. Maybe not.
But as I mentioned, the exhibit was worth the trip. I told the family I babysit for on Saturdays all about it, and I think they're going to try to make it after Mass tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I shall plan another trip to Italy.
It was beautiful. Not as good as seeing the actual cell walls at San Marco in Florence, but it was well worth the time, effort, and admission donation.
We took the train down from Stamford. There was short-lived apprehension while I located my ticket for the conductor in one of my many pockets on the way down. I then handed it over to Tony for safe-keeping. We are alike in many ways. Unfortunately, some of those ways are all too uncomplementary: first of all, both of us are lacking in sense of direction, although I seem to be able to muster it when I'm making an effort. Today, however, it was discovered that we share the inability to keep things from getting lost. Either that or it's contagious. Whichever way it works, he lost my ticket--although he did not lose his own, which was interesting. He ended up paying for my train ride (a second time) when we got back on the train this afternoon to go home ....
Memories of Paris with lovely friend, Alissa: Buying a ten-pack of subway passes ... half an hour later, looking in every pocket I own, frantically searching, but laughing with my friend at the irony of it all ... Alissa being in charge of "all important documents except the passport" from that point onward ...
I used to think it'd get better as I get older. Maybe not.
But as I mentioned, the exhibit was worth the trip. I told the family I babysit for on Saturdays all about it, and I think they're going to try to make it after Mass tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I shall plan another trip to Italy.
Monday, January 23, 2006
How Can I Keep from Singing?
Back on a schedule and into a routine.
I am so excited about this semester. It's going to be so much work, but it's all relevant to the work that I'll be doing when I'm finally out in the field (funny that there's that distinction, even at this level of education!). And much of the difficult stuff is group work; my group consists of my three closest friends at school; so instead of being busy and not being able to see them, I'll be forced to see much of them over the next 5 months!
Two large breaks--spring break and Easter break--plus a few less credits scheduled in order to give us time for our projects ... all this contributes to my relief that this semester may not be dreadful.
Add to that the latest gift from St. Anthony: "...out of the blue clear sky."
I can't stop smiling.
How can I keep from singing?
I am so excited about this semester. It's going to be so much work, but it's all relevant to the work that I'll be doing when I'm finally out in the field (funny that there's that distinction, even at this level of education!). And much of the difficult stuff is group work; my group consists of my three closest friends at school; so instead of being busy and not being able to see them, I'll be forced to see much of them over the next 5 months!
Two large breaks--spring break and Easter break--plus a few less credits scheduled in order to give us time for our projects ... all this contributes to my relief that this semester may not be dreadful.
Add to that the latest gift from St. Anthony: "...out of the blue clear sky."
I can't stop smiling.
How can I keep from singing?
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Please define "weird"
Aaaack! I've been Memed! Which I would have assumed to mean, "attacked by a Portia bean." But it's not that. It means that I've been tagged by Nutmeg to participate in some strange form of self-revelation.
Rules: The first player of this game starts with the topic "five weird habits of yourself," and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don't forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says "You are tagged" (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.
5 weird habits, by Sephora
Disclaimer: I'm not sure what constitutes "weird." I am going to assume that "weird habits" include my habits that I doubt most others have. For example, the fact that I brush my teeth twice a day is not a "weird habit," since I assume that most people do as much. This, however, is not a proper definition, as one should never define something by what it is not. The use of a universal negative leaves us with the idea "weird habits" are merely the original pieces of individual self-expression. But whatever....
1. I tend to clean kitchens wherever I go. Yes, it's polite to help out in the kitchen when you are invited over, but at friends' houses, that's usually my first destination, where I immediately start doing dishes and wiping counters. At home, I cannot get any other work done if the kitchen is dirty.
2. When I really look forward to emailing someone in particular, I don't let myself do it until I've responded to all the emails in my Inbox. In some strange way, I feel bad that I enjoy writing some emails more than others, so I put my
preferences last.
3. I have much more fun cleaning house, cooking, and baking when I'm wearing a skirt or dress. So while some people save old pairs of jeans, I have a dress with bleach stains on it that I wear with an apron for housework.
4. Bedsheets and towels all must be folded with the right side out. If I fold them the other way by mistake, I have to shake them out and re-fold them.
5. When I'm driving, I don't listen to music until I've said my rosary that day. If I'm tired, I must say my rosary out loud to prevent myself from losing focus or getting sleepy. If I pray out loud, I put my headset on so that I don't appear to be talking to myself. (I suppose I care if people think that I'm talking to myself!)
This tagging business is going to turn into who will actually respond, like those silly questionnaires that people send to their friends. So here is my tag-team:
Most likely to respond: Austin, Texas, the most recent addition to my sidebar, from whom I anticipate continual greatness.
Least likely to respond: Erin-Roommate, who is more busy than I (Recipe: wedding planning, graduate school, independent Arabic study; Mix well.)
Most likely to respond with excuses describing why he won't respond to the actual post: Nevermore, who has more serious concerns and more pressing things to get out of his head and into writing.
Crap-shoots, but I'd be sooo interested to hear from them: Donzilla and Jedno
Rules: The first player of this game starts with the topic "five weird habits of yourself," and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don't forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says "You are tagged" (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.
5 weird habits, by Sephora
Disclaimer: I'm not sure what constitutes "weird." I am going to assume that "weird habits" include my habits that I doubt most others have. For example, the fact that I brush my teeth twice a day is not a "weird habit," since I assume that most people do as much. This, however, is not a proper definition, as one should never define something by what it is not. The use of a universal negative leaves us with the idea "weird habits" are merely the original pieces of individual self-expression. But whatever....
1. I tend to clean kitchens wherever I go. Yes, it's polite to help out in the kitchen when you are invited over, but at friends' houses, that's usually my first destination, where I immediately start doing dishes and wiping counters. At home, I cannot get any other work done if the kitchen is dirty.
2. When I really look forward to emailing someone in particular, I don't let myself do it until I've responded to all the emails in my Inbox. In some strange way, I feel bad that I enjoy writing some emails more than others, so I put my
preferences last.
3. I have much more fun cleaning house, cooking, and baking when I'm wearing a skirt or dress. So while some people save old pairs of jeans, I have a dress with bleach stains on it that I wear with an apron for housework.
4. Bedsheets and towels all must be folded with the right side out. If I fold them the other way by mistake, I have to shake them out and re-fold them.
5. When I'm driving, I don't listen to music until I've said my rosary that day. If I'm tired, I must say my rosary out loud to prevent myself from losing focus or getting sleepy. If I pray out loud, I put my headset on so that I don't appear to be talking to myself. (I suppose I care if people think that I'm talking to myself!)
This tagging business is going to turn into who will actually respond, like those silly questionnaires that people send to their friends. So here is my tag-team:
Most likely to respond: Austin, Texas, the most recent addition to my sidebar, from whom I anticipate continual greatness.
Least likely to respond: Erin-Roommate, who is more busy than I (Recipe: wedding planning, graduate school, independent Arabic study; Mix well.)
Most likely to respond with excuses describing why he won't respond to the actual post: Nevermore, who has more serious concerns and more pressing things to get out of his head and into writing.
Crap-shoots, but I'd be sooo interested to hear from them: Donzilla and Jedno
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Scccraape!
My flight was delayed, so instead of arriving in New York at 6:20am, I arrived at 7:45am. Oh, gooh-day.
And there was Tony at JetBlue's baggage claim, looking like 3-in-the-afternoon, as I wearily hugged him and thanked him for saving me from a hideous Metro North train ride. Although I got very little sleep on the plane, I was determined not to nap during the day, so that I could adjust to the 2-hour time loss more quickly.
"So that means you want to do something fun and exciting?" Tony chirped.
"Umm, sure," I replied.
After a lovely breakfast and noon Mass, he suggested ice-skating. I readily agreed.
I didn't realize how prices had risen since I was a child. I remember being able to skate for 4 hours for about $5, maybe an extra $1 or so if you needed rentals (which we never needed, of course!). Tony and I arrived at the rink about 30 minutes before the meager 2-hour public skate slot closed, and the guy charged us $10 each! That didn't even include the rental!
"We're right near Greenwich, remember," Tony reasoned with me. Oh, yes. Where you have to pay rent just to breathe. I forgot.
I was determined to make it worth the money. This was difficult to do when certain aspects of my presentation made me feel like I'd just woken up...all day long:
3 hours of sleep on an airplane
No make-up to hide the dark shadows
Eyeglasses that started making my head ache behind my ears
Same clothes for the last 12+ hours: a wrinkled khaki skirt and a turtleneck too stretched to stay close to my neck anymore
But we had fun. We took the advice of a woman teaching her young daughter how to figure skate, and "pushed through our heels." Still, there were a few close calls in that short half-hour period!
I enjoyed my first day back--no work, no GA work, no school work.
It was a good time spent with a friend who is usually up to ears in work and stress himself. Scraping the ice was a great way to ease into this next semester.
And there was Tony at JetBlue's baggage claim, looking like 3-in-the-afternoon, as I wearily hugged him and thanked him for saving me from a hideous Metro North train ride. Although I got very little sleep on the plane, I was determined not to nap during the day, so that I could adjust to the 2-hour time loss more quickly.
"So that means you want to do something fun and exciting?" Tony chirped.
"Umm, sure," I replied.
After a lovely breakfast and noon Mass, he suggested ice-skating. I readily agreed.
I didn't realize how prices had risen since I was a child. I remember being able to skate for 4 hours for about $5, maybe an extra $1 or so if you needed rentals (which we never needed, of course!). Tony and I arrived at the rink about 30 minutes before the meager 2-hour public skate slot closed, and the guy charged us $10 each! That didn't even include the rental!
"We're right near Greenwich, remember," Tony reasoned with me. Oh, yes. Where you have to pay rent just to breathe. I forgot.
I was determined to make it worth the money. This was difficult to do when certain aspects of my presentation made me feel like I'd just woken up...all day long:
3 hours of sleep on an airplane
No make-up to hide the dark shadows
Eyeglasses that started making my head ache behind my ears
Same clothes for the last 12+ hours: a wrinkled khaki skirt and a turtleneck too stretched to stay close to my neck anymore
But we had fun. We took the advice of a woman teaching her young daughter how to figure skate, and "pushed through our heels." Still, there were a few close calls in that short half-hour period!
I enjoyed my first day back--no work, no GA work, no school work.
It was a good time spent with a friend who is usually up to ears in work and stress himself. Scraping the ice was a great way to ease into this next semester.
Friday, December 30, 2005
'Tis the Season...
...to receive emails and cards from people I never hear from otherwise.
Thank God! I'm grateful we feel that special obligation during the Christmas season to "reconnect" with old friends who have fallen off our individually constructed glory trains.
The last I heard from one of my friends, she was married and expecting a child. This Christmas, after mouse-clicking on the most probable-looking Hungarian by-lines, I reached her holiday greeting, written in English:
"Marcel is one and a half year old, and I am expecting again."
This leads me to conclude that
1. Her first child was a little boy
2. She still knows how to communicate in English
3. It's been way too long since I was in touch with her
The other day, I settled into an antique chair with a pot of tea at my favorite coffee shop (after clocking out, of course!). I pulled out my address book to write some of my own Christmas cards. Wow--I couldn't get past "B" without a self-conscious feeling of guilt. When did it happen? I used to be the one to keep in touch with people. Letters were my main source of contact for several of my friends.
As I started writing one particular card, I wracked my brain, trying to remember when my last contact with this person was. I really had no idea where to start. And then I didn't know where to finish! I ended up digging in my purse for extra paper--the index card I found there was soon packed with extra verbage.
Sighing, I quickly scribbled holiday well-wishes on the next 4 cards, resistant to the idea of composing novels for each of my faraway friends. But it was sobering, realizing how much I could write... how remisce I have been in my correspondence with people in my life who have given me so much.
Which thoughts led me to the drafting of a New Years resolution. I have not yet perfected the actual statement, but it will have something to do with letter-writing and old friends.
Meanwhile, I have a few more Christmas cards to go....
Thank God! I'm grateful we feel that special obligation during the Christmas season to "reconnect" with old friends who have fallen off our individually constructed glory trains.
The last I heard from one of my friends, she was married and expecting a child. This Christmas, after mouse-clicking on the most probable-looking Hungarian by-lines, I reached her holiday greeting, written in English:
"Marcel is one and a half year old, and I am expecting again."
This leads me to conclude that
1. Her first child was a little boy
2. She still knows how to communicate in English
3. It's been way too long since I was in touch with her
The other day, I settled into an antique chair with a pot of tea at my favorite coffee shop (after clocking out, of course!). I pulled out my address book to write some of my own Christmas cards. Wow--I couldn't get past "B" without a self-conscious feeling of guilt. When did it happen? I used to be the one to keep in touch with people. Letters were my main source of contact for several of my friends.
As I started writing one particular card, I wracked my brain, trying to remember when my last contact with this person was. I really had no idea where to start. And then I didn't know where to finish! I ended up digging in my purse for extra paper--the index card I found there was soon packed with extra verbage.
Sighing, I quickly scribbled holiday well-wishes on the next 4 cards, resistant to the idea of composing novels for each of my faraway friends. But it was sobering, realizing how much I could write... how remisce I have been in my correspondence with people in my life who have given me so much.
Which thoughts led me to the drafting of a New Years resolution. I have not yet perfected the actual statement, but it will have something to do with letter-writing and old friends.
Meanwhile, I have a few more Christmas cards to go....
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Counting Pennies
Yep, it's that time of the semester again: the END of it.
...where inevitably, I end up sitting on my bed the night before my last exam, counting up all my loose change; then I go digging through every pocket of every article of clothing that I own in order to find more. This way, after my exam the following day, I can proceed to the bank with my Ziploc bag of checks, bills, and coins before I leave for home, plop it on the teller's counter, and declare with confidence, "I have [so many] dollars and [this much] cents to deposit today!"
I've figured out how many bills will be subtracted from my account without me here to replenish it.
I've exhausted every possibility of rebate and refund that I can think of.
Now it's time to take my test, and start my Christmas vacation!
...where inevitably, I end up sitting on my bed the night before my last exam, counting up all my loose change; then I go digging through every pocket of every article of clothing that I own in order to find more. This way, after my exam the following day, I can proceed to the bank with my Ziploc bag of checks, bills, and coins before I leave for home, plop it on the teller's counter, and declare with confidence, "I have [so many] dollars and [this much] cents to deposit today!"
I've figured out how many bills will be subtracted from my account without me here to replenish it.
I've exhausted every possibility of rebate and refund that I can think of.
Now it's time to take my test, and start my Christmas vacation!
Sunday, December 04, 2005
"Life is too short...
...not to celebrate birthdays."
That's what the napkins said at our large family birthday party last night.
Friday was Grandpa's 85th birthday. I called him on Thursday and got my birthday greetings in early.
"Oh, thank you , but you know," he told me, "we stopped counting birthdays after 55."
It didn't seem like it, though, at my Uncle Kevin and Aunt Kathleen's house last night! There were helium balloons wherever a flat surface stood empty. Food filled the kitchen table, drinks and snacks filled the breakfast bar, and everywhere, there were relatives: squeezing past one another in doorways, sidestepping around the affectionate golden retriever, carrying plates to and fro from the kitchen, chatting and laughing and teasing. Interestingly enough, while planning the desserts and setting out food, everyone kept saying that we were "not a big group." It was true. In comparison to most family gatherings, there were not too many present. Several people were not able to make it, for one reason or another. However, those who were there filled the house with conversation and laughter.
I met one cousin's fiance whom I've been waiting to meet for about a year, and two other cousins' girlfriends that I've heard about for what seems like forever.
Grandma and Grandpa sat on the sofa, happy to include in their conversations anyone who ventured into the living room. After dessert, Grandpa opened all of his cards and gifts. One family gave him (updated) framed pictures of each grandchild for their photo collection. As each one was displayed and passed around the room, Grandma got newly excited that the pictures were "theirs to keep."
"This is for us? We get to take this home? Oh, how nice!" she kept saying.
To which Grandpa replied at one point, "Well, that's the whole point of all this--to collect the loot!"
As she admired her granddaughter's picture, Grandma asked, "Now, did Grandma Tallon get one of these?"
After her Laura assured her--on a few separate occasions--that yes, her other grandmother had received one, Grandma asked yet again.
The eldest in that family, Michael, spoke up. "Now, now, Grandma. It's not a competition!"
Soon everything was opened and set aside. Aunt Kathleen told her eldest son to sign the card on the counter before Grandma and Grandpa left. Apparently, he had missed the opportunity beforehand. He's a recent college graduate, more recently real estate certified--complete with the business suit and briefcase--the kind of kid who looks like he's got it all together. He obediently grabbed the card he saw on the indicated counter and added his name to the bottom. His mother's sister was close to tears from laughing so hard as she returned to the living room and told the story. Of course, then we had to pass around the card, at the expense of the poor guy, who just looked on, grinning and shaking his head. For at the bottom of this particular card was scripted, "Love, Rich & Jim," and below that in a different pen, "Bobby."
I guess he didn't stop to wonder why it would make sense for him to sign this card instead of the one from his family--complete with all of his siblings' names on it.
"I just do what I'm told," he said, "Mom said 'sign the card,' so I signed the card!"
"At least you didn't write your name on top!" Uncle Richard ragged.
While we were having cake, Grandpa quieted everyone with his paternal declaration:
"Well, you can have all the food, you can have all the gifts, you can have all the decorations and all that ... but what means the most to me is looking around and seeing this beautiful gathering of all my people. Thank you. ...And there will be no further speeches."
A good time was had by all; everyone left between 10:30 and 11pm, and I went up to bed. I coughed, tossed, turned, repositioned, and popped cough drops for about an hour. Then Aunt Kathleen brought in a vaporizer. It had a miraculous effect: almost as soon as she plugged it in, I stopped coughing and got a good night's sleep!
When I awoke and looked out the window, I did a double-take: 3 inches of snow covered the ground, and more was falling. Although it was beautiful, I was worried about my drive home.
A firm grip on the wheel, a good deal of prayer, and some windshield washer fluid found me safe in Stamford for the 10am Mass.
What's that?
Finals this week?
...Oh, yeah!
But it was worth it.
"Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles in the cold."
~ Andre Maurois
That's what the napkins said at our large family birthday party last night.
Friday was Grandpa's 85th birthday. I called him on Thursday and got my birthday greetings in early.
"Oh, thank you , but you know," he told me, "we stopped counting birthdays after 55."
It didn't seem like it, though, at my Uncle Kevin and Aunt Kathleen's house last night! There were helium balloons wherever a flat surface stood empty. Food filled the kitchen table, drinks and snacks filled the breakfast bar, and everywhere, there were relatives: squeezing past one another in doorways, sidestepping around the affectionate golden retriever, carrying plates to and fro from the kitchen, chatting and laughing and teasing. Interestingly enough, while planning the desserts and setting out food, everyone kept saying that we were "not a big group." It was true. In comparison to most family gatherings, there were not too many present. Several people were not able to make it, for one reason or another. However, those who were there filled the house with conversation and laughter.
I met one cousin's fiance whom I've been waiting to meet for about a year, and two other cousins' girlfriends that I've heard about for what seems like forever.
Grandma and Grandpa sat on the sofa, happy to include in their conversations anyone who ventured into the living room. After dessert, Grandpa opened all of his cards and gifts. One family gave him (updated) framed pictures of each grandchild for their photo collection. As each one was displayed and passed around the room, Grandma got newly excited that the pictures were "theirs to keep."
"This is for us? We get to take this home? Oh, how nice!" she kept saying.
To which Grandpa replied at one point, "Well, that's the whole point of all this--to collect the loot!"
As she admired her granddaughter's picture, Grandma asked, "Now, did Grandma Tallon get one of these?"
After her Laura assured her--on a few separate occasions--that yes, her other grandmother had received one, Grandma asked yet again.
The eldest in that family, Michael, spoke up. "Now, now, Grandma. It's not a competition!"
Soon everything was opened and set aside. Aunt Kathleen told her eldest son to sign the card on the counter before Grandma and Grandpa left. Apparently, he had missed the opportunity beforehand. He's a recent college graduate, more recently real estate certified--complete with the business suit and briefcase--the kind of kid who looks like he's got it all together. He obediently grabbed the card he saw on the indicated counter and added his name to the bottom. His mother's sister was close to tears from laughing so hard as she returned to the living room and told the story. Of course, then we had to pass around the card, at the expense of the poor guy, who just looked on, grinning and shaking his head. For at the bottom of this particular card was scripted, "Love, Rich & Jim," and below that in a different pen, "Bobby."
I guess he didn't stop to wonder why it would make sense for him to sign this card instead of the one from his family--complete with all of his siblings' names on it.
"I just do what I'm told," he said, "Mom said 'sign the card,' so I signed the card!"
"At least you didn't write your name on top!" Uncle Richard ragged.
While we were having cake, Grandpa quieted everyone with his paternal declaration:
"Well, you can have all the food, you can have all the gifts, you can have all the decorations and all that ... but what means the most to me is looking around and seeing this beautiful gathering of all my people. Thank you. ...And there will be no further speeches."
A good time was had by all; everyone left between 10:30 and 11pm, and I went up to bed. I coughed, tossed, turned, repositioned, and popped cough drops for about an hour. Then Aunt Kathleen brought in a vaporizer. It had a miraculous effect: almost as soon as she plugged it in, I stopped coughing and got a good night's sleep!
When I awoke and looked out the window, I did a double-take: 3 inches of snow covered the ground, and more was falling. Although it was beautiful, I was worried about my drive home.
A firm grip on the wheel, a good deal of prayer, and some windshield washer fluid found me safe in Stamford for the 10am Mass.
What's that?
Finals this week?
...Oh, yeah!
But it was worth it.
"Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles in the cold."
~ Andre Maurois
Sunday, November 27, 2005
If you cook it ...
My personal continuation of the weekend so adroitly coordinated by Nutmeg and her DH....
As it turns out, I gradually became aware of a large and larger gathering of friends and friends of friends from That--College's Beloved Class of '02. Where? Well, ...where else? Washington D.C.--the capitol of reunions, the bastion of traditions, the city of national pride, where the free and brave congregate.
Even if they're from Canada.
(ahem).
In their cars and on the planes, they came to celebrate a Saturday Thanksgiving together. So I was not going to be absent.
I landed in Newark around 3:30pm (this particular airport is in the state of New Joy-zeh) and promptly rented a car to transport my body a few states away, to Virginia. ...to the home of a beautiful little Irish lady, who happened to be spending her Thanksgiving with the rest of her daughter's family in Ojai, California. (Two of her grandchildren hosted the rest of us in this, her Virginia home).
By the time I sorted my way through traffic and road-signs hidden by the darkness, it was after 9pm. But I was received with open arms by dear friends both seen and unseen these past 3 years. Represented: Maryland, Massachusetts, New Mexico, Kansas, Washington, California, South Dakota, Alabama, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Michigan, Connecticut, Washington D.C., British Columbia and Ontario ... ex-couples having beers together, meeting new significant others ... students and professionals rehashing old arguments surrounding life and its meaning ... the undistinguishable mix of alumni with honorary class members ... current friends of old friends ... definitely an evening worthy of attendance.
After a mandatory farewell breakfast at the local "Pete's" substitute of Vienna, Virginia, it was on the road again! We dropped my car off at Baltimore's airport and I joined the Stamford sisters to continue the journey up to Connecticut. We chose to drive the round-about 6-hour route through Pennsylvania, rather than spend 8 hours on the 4-hour route through NYC. It worked out splendidly. I arrived home to my apartment shortly after 6:30pm, ready for the 2 and 1/2 weeks of school ahead!
Sore from the soccer game, sick from aireborne pathogens on the airplane, attacking my helpless Echinacea-Goldenseal deprived self.
Shower ...
tea ...
goldenseal ...
bed.
As it turns out, I gradually became aware of a large and larger gathering of friends and friends of friends from That--College's Beloved Class of '02. Where? Well, ...where else? Washington D.C.--the capitol of reunions, the bastion of traditions, the city of national pride, where the free and brave congregate.
Even if they're from Canada.
In their cars and on the planes, they came to celebrate a Saturday Thanksgiving together. So I was not going to be absent.
I landed in Newark around 3:30pm (this particular airport is in the state of New Joy-zeh) and promptly rented a car to transport my body a few states away, to Virginia. ...to the home of a beautiful little Irish lady, who happened to be spending her Thanksgiving with the rest of her daughter's family in Ojai, California. (Two of her grandchildren hosted the rest of us in this, her Virginia home).
By the time I sorted my way through traffic and road-signs hidden by the darkness, it was after 9pm. But I was received with open arms by dear friends both seen and unseen these past 3 years. Represented: Maryland, Massachusetts, New Mexico, Kansas, Washington, California, South Dakota, Alabama, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Michigan, Connecticut, Washington D.C., British Columbia and Ontario ... ex-couples having beers together, meeting new significant others ... students and professionals rehashing old arguments surrounding life and its meaning ... the undistinguishable mix of alumni with honorary class members ... current friends of old friends ... definitely an evening worthy of attendance.
After a mandatory farewell breakfast at the local "Pete's" substitute of Vienna, Virginia, it was on the road again! We dropped my car off at Baltimore's airport and I joined the Stamford sisters to continue the journey up to Connecticut. We chose to drive the round-about 6-hour route through Pennsylvania, rather than spend 8 hours on the 4-hour route through NYC. It worked out splendidly. I arrived home to my apartment shortly after 6:30pm, ready for the 2 and 1/2 weeks of school ahead!
Sore from the soccer game, sick from aireborne pathogens on the airplane, attacking my helpless Echinacea-Goldenseal deprived self.
Shower ...
tea ...
goldenseal ...
bed.
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