Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Christmas #1

8 November, 2009 by Lindsay

This past week, I’ve had a guest stay with me.  Her name is Chris.  She’s my ex’s mother, but she and I have been close for nearly as long as we’ve known one another.  She’s very much a mother figure for me.  She comes out to visit me every once in a while, and she knew I’ve been stressed with the thesis stuff going on, and I’ve missed her dearly anyway, so she came out to help around the apartment and to otherwise make my life easier and sunnier.

She also brought presents with her.  She brought my birthday presents and my Christmas presents, and since I will not be with her for either holiday, she insisted upon me opening them while she was here.

Yesterday, she, Jessica, a friend of ours from New York and myself went to Christmas Tree Shops to get some decorations and a tree for Christmas.  I normally prefer to start decorating for the holidays right after Thanksgiving, but I’m going home for two weeks for Christmas and New Year’s, so Jessica and I won’t get to be together during that time (sad!).  Being such, we decided to compensate by putting up our tree early so that we could enjoy it in the time we had.  We’ll put up the other decorations at a later, more acceptable date.

This evening, we put Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire in the DVD player, and we put up the tree and decorated it while watching the movie.  (We both associate the Harry Potter books and movies with Christmas for inexplicable reasons.)  Afterwards, we sat down and enjoyed a cup of lemon tea and opened Christmas presents Chris brought us.  We got identical gifts, but Chris picked out different designs for each of us to accommodate our differing personalities.  It was pretty neat.  I think Jessica is one of the only people I don’t mind matching with.  I actually find it mildly adorable in small doses.  All in all, it was a pretty fantastic evening, and we pretty much love Chris.  We loved our presents immensely.

Jessica purchased the antlers; Chris purchased the stockings.  Happy Christmas!

The ribbons on our presents said, “Come, let us adorn them!  Come, let us adorn them!”  So, we let them.

Things our $180k education taught us: decorating a Christmas tree.  No, I’m kidding; we didn’t learn life skills–that was extra.

Not so sure about that brightly lit monstrosity, but really digging the package it came in.

The Vanna White of tree topping.

Ok, I feel as if I should be honest here.  I was in that last picture (technically still am–hello, hands!), but I looked really, truly, horrendously awful.  Not an exaggeration.  So, I cropped myself out, but not entirely (see above, re: hands).  Jessica is more photogenic (life is unfair) and just plain pretty anyway, even without makeup (see above, re: life unfair), and she’s wearing an awesome Power Rangers shirt, and although that has nothing whatsoever to do with anything I just said, I thought it deserved recognition–what I’m trying to say is, I detracted from the pretty, so I cropped it.  I offered to let her put the star on top anyway (we’re both against angels as tree toppers–it seems…wrong to me, and I’m going to mind my manners and not go into the reasons), but she said we both should.  I relented, and then I produced a picture of horrific proportions, and I’m mean enough to prattle on about this terrible picture without showing you.  BUT!  It’s my Christmas, and I’ll be mean if I want to.

Posted in Elatedness Abounds, Friends, NaBloPoMo 2009 | Leave a Comment »

Of Two Minds

7 November, 2009 by Lindsay

Being a convert to Catholicism is an interesting thing, especially when you come from virtually no faith background beyond, “God is great, God is good, let us thank him for this food.”  Er–is that even right?  I don’t know.  I remember it being recited here and there when I was a child, but God was not a focal point of my life growing up beyond being told that He exists.  I was frequently invited to Protestant church services growing up (Bible belt, people), but I always came up with an excuse.  I never felt comfortable.  Church was for other people.  I wasn’t religious, I didn’t particularly care for organized religion, and I certainly didn’t care to talk about it.

God likes jokes.  I know this, because I’m now Catholic.  However, as I said, it’s an interesting experience from going from one pole to the other.  Ok, I guess it wasn’t an entire polar opposite; I did believe in God, after all, so there was some foundation there.  However, I stayed as far away from Him as possible until my freshman year of college when I was baptized, because I just wasn’t comfortable being around all those religion folks–all those believers.  It was intimidating.  I stuck close to God in nighttime prayer, but come sunlight, it all went away.  Essentially, I was a closet Christian.  Mostly.

I’m now at a point, though, that because of my past and my present, I never really feel as if I fit in either circle.  I can’t separate God from my life anymore.  Even if I don’t talk about my faith, it’s always there, it’s always a part of me.  Consequently, even though I am not blatantly “Catholic” and can completely carry on a normal conversation not pertaining to religion and can do normal things like have a drink (I know I’m not the only person surprised by this stereotype of Christians; I can’t be.), I’m still…different.  I’m still Catholic.  I’m still “other.”  I still do not belong.

Conversely, I never really seem to fit in Christian or Catholic circles either.  I mean, the beliefs are there.  The viewpoints are largely there.  But I come from a different background, one in which I had developed a personality and opinions and life experiences prior to a life in which God was a huge part of it.  Some of those things were even contrary to the life I now try to lead.  It’s certainly not always easy.  Ok, that’s a bald-faced lie–it’s never easy.  Out of my almost 23 years of life, 19 of those years were shaped by a person who was not Catholic.  I was just…me.  Yeah, God was always there, but I never really allowed Him a front row seat; God always sat at the back of the bus…in the corner.  Often, He was such a gentleman that He’d give up His seat and His place on the bus so that something else far more important to me could have that seat, like movies.  Or a book.  Or a friend.  Because He knew that I wanted one of them to have that seat.  He’s really quite nice.

What I’m saying is that I was a nerd before I was a Catholic.  I was a perfectionist before I was a Catholic.  I was a cynic before I was a Catholic.  I was anything and everything before I was a Catholic.  This is different from being these things while being a Catholic.  I had a completely different perspective of life–have, really–and am coming from a different place than a lot of the people with whom I share my faith.

Sometimes I feel like I’m not worthy enough to be with the Catholic group (silly, I know), yet at the same time I feel like I may make the unreligious uncomfortable or that they may perceive me as a goody-two-shoes (it’s happened before).  I often feel as I have one foot in both circles, yet I can never fully enter either one.  I know converts who make a seamless transition into Catholicism, and I often envy them that, because I never really did.

As a result, there are few people I can be me in entirety with.  I feel as if I am expected to behave in a certain manner with certain people, like, “We’re ok with that part of you… as long as you leave that at the door.”  I’ve actually run into that quite a bit.  I’ve never been told that, but it’s quite obvious when people become uncomfortable about certain things.  People are definitely more at ease when I abide by this unspoken request.  There are few people with whom I feel comfortable being around and with whom this expectation is nonexistent.  Aside from a few people I’m close to, this comfort tends to come with other converts, and from those I’ve spoken with, it’s largely because they undergo the same struggles of having a past and a future, wanting to keep both, yet unable to reconcile the two.

I’ve accepted that this is a cross that I have to bear, at least for the present, and I’ve found that it often makes me feel more compassionate towards other converts.  It certainly makes me want to take the new ones under my wing to help them transition and to be there to listen for them.  I still consider myself a neophyte, and I still feel so in dark about so many things because I didn’t have a Catholic upbringing.  I absolutely consider myself to be Catholic retarded (only recently figured out what Litany of the Hours are).  I remember what knowing absolutely nothing was like, though, and what it was like not even paying attention in Mass, but paying attention to everyone’s movements just so I wouldn’t oust myself as the resident heathen.

So now I’m ousting myself as the resident half-way heathen.  Of sorts.  Reformed heathen?  Heathen Catholic?  I don’t know.

Posted in Catholicism | 1 Comment »

Seven Quick Takes: The Food Edition

6 November, 2009 by Lindsay

1. I do not particularly enjoy cooking.  I think part of the reason is that I tend to find cooking to be boring, but I also think the ephemeral nature of food poses a problem for me.  I like creating things, but I also like being able to go back to my creations, to enjoy them, to critique them, to track my progress over time.  I could make a dish again, but it’s not the same.

2. I feel like I’m the only female I know who either 1) does not possess a great deal of culinary skill or 2) does not enjoy cooking.  I think I broke.  I’m all for calling it feminism, though, because…

3. While I never really had the impression of reversed gender roles (because I know females who like to cook and are really darn good at it–hi, Sarah!), I always sort of viewed that as something guys did.  I never had the impression that cooking was something women do.  My father is pretty skilled in the kitchen–the man makes the world’s greatest mashed potatoes–and he did most of the cooking during my formative years (on the weekends when he was actually home at night to cook).  My brother didn’t do much cooking until he went to college, but then he started learning, and he’s pretty good; I wouldn’t say he comes close to my sister’s skill level, but he’s good and he can and will follow recipes.  Plus, he makes killer maple burgers.  Then I dated someone who cooked.  I never did.  The men in my life have always cooked for me.  They’d be hard at work in the kitchen while I…stayed very far away.

4. I firmly believe, however, that breakfast is a meal reserved for men.  If nothing else, men should have to cook breakfast.  Breakfast food eludes me.  I just can’t do it.  I can do scrambled eggs, and that’s about it.  I still manage to screw up oatmeal from time to time.  Ok, a lot of the time.

5. Speaking of oatmeal… where in the sam hill is the Quaker strawberries ‘n’ cream oatmeal?  That was my favorite as a child, and I’ve looked on Quaker’s website, so I know they sell that flavor on its own, but all I can ever find are the variety packs of oatmeal.  I don’t mind the peach or the blueberry, but there’s something unsettling about banana oatmeal.  I refuse to eat it.  Then I’ll come to the boxes, open them up and discover that I ate all the oatmeal and the only thing left is the banana.  All I wanted was strawberry.  Is that so much to ask?  Apparently.  Quaker, please fix this.  Strawberries ‘n’ cream oatmeal for the world, I say.

6. When I do cook, I tend to get frustrated.  You see, I’m generally a fairly creative person.  However, when it comes to cooking, my mind goes blank.  I can never think of any meal ideas.  I can think of maybe five.  That’s a huge part of my problem.  You’d think it wouldn’t be, because I eat food, after all, but, no, blank slate.  Nothing.  Nada.  Hope you enjoy one of the four things I can make.  If not, I can direct you to the cereal.

7. Yet another problem I have is that I have the palate of a seven-year-old.  This is fantastic.  When I go to parties for seven-year-olds.  You might be surprised to know that this doesn’t happen quite so much.  I don’t do fancy food.  That’s possibly because I am the World’s Pickiest Eater, but I get anxious about such things.  I cannot go to fancy restaurants unless I look up the menu beforehand online and can find something edible, and even then, it’s not something I want to eat, just something I can.  I’d be perfectly happy with a hamburger and fries or chicken and rice, and I’d much prefer that to something like stuffed chicken or crab puffs.  Actually, I wouldn’t like either of the latter two.  Have a seven-year-old who might like to hang out?

More quick takes can be found over at Conversion Diary.

Posted in Seven Quick Takes | 1 Comment »

Alice Thursday: 11 Weeks

5 November, 2009 by Lindsay

My sister called me the other day because Alice was sitting in front of the television watching The Simpsons and laughing at the show.  I think that’s awesome.  It amused Alice immensely for whatever reason.  Then today Sarah called me twice, the first time she said Alice smiled when she told her that they were going to call Aunt Lindsay.  While I know the likelihood of her actually understanding is quite low, it still makes me happy that such coincidences occur.  Later Sarah called me again, and when I picked up the telephone, I heard what sounded like a donkey braying while hiccuping.  Then I hear my sister laughing and cooing, “Mama loves you!  Mama loves you!”  That was Alice laughing hysterically and hiccuping.  I asked Sarah what she was doing, and apparently she kept saying that to Alice while getting up in her face making fish faces.  Kid is easily amused.  It was hilarious; that laugh is fantastic.  Although, if it’s still around by the time she hits school, my sweet girl is going to be mercilessly made fun of.  Sarah said we could call her Eeyore.  Ee-yooooore.  I even imitated a donkey bray on the phone with my sister.  She burst out laughing.  I think I’m going to attempt to never do that again.

Watching the World Series with her father and already understanding baseball more than Aunt Lindsay.

“Hey, Daddy?  These guys get pretty dirty…what kind of bleach do you think they use?”

Gym baby works out to “Eye of the Tiger.”  Heck yeah she does.

“I need my mommy, and, damnit, I don’t care who knows!”

Posted in Alice Thursday | Leave a Comment »

Swinging Sanctuary

4 November, 2009 by Lindsay

I have been told many times that I tend to live inside my head.  Ever since I was little, I could usually entertain myself merely by retreating back into my own mind–in my own world.  I’ve found this to be both a blessing and a curse, because I often lose myself in my thoughts without meaning to; it’s simply become an automatic reaction.  I’ve always held the philosophy that I can work through any problem if given ample enough time to think about it.

The problem, however, is that I generally need an oasis to think in, or even to not think in.  Sometimes just having a “thinking spot” is enough, whether I use it or not.  Even if I don’t use it, it’s a retreat.  I had one back home in Indiana; it was my sanctuary away from everything, my place to just be me.  I never invited anyone to accompany me.

I have found a similar sanctuary here in Quincy.  It’s not as isolated as my thinking spot back home, not by a long shot, and I often have to choose my hours carefully so that I can be there when no one else is.  It’s actually a playground, and I’ve found that listening to my iPod while swinging is surprisingly serene and therapeutic.  If I close my eyes and lose myself in the music and the motion, my mind just seems to free itself.  It is wonderful, much akin to the feeling I get when I’m praying or in Adoration, only this allows me to feel the breeze on my skin and fills me with exhilaration.  I’ve brought my roommate there once so we could play on the swings and the slides together, and it was a wonderful time, but it was completely different.  I absolutely love my “me time” that I have there, and coupled with a book to read?  There are few things that can surpass that feeling of contentment, at least at this point in my life.

All my troubles seem to wither away into whispers in the background, and all my expectations and failures don’t seem quite so apocalyptic.  I’m able to let go, get perspective, get answers and get in the moment.  As it turns out, serenity really seems to aid the problem solving process.  It’s amazing what you can figure out and accomplish when you’re able to just let it all go.

What’s interesting, though, is that my thinking spot back home and here are both outdoors.  I am not an outdoorsy person by any means.  The fact that I seem to find sanctuary somewhere in the outdoors is mildly preposterous and highly ironic to me, yet there you have it.

Unfortunately, I realize that this will soon pose a problem for me, what with the weather getting increasingly colder and the days shorter.  The daylight issue is not a concern for me; the freezing temperatures and snow, however, do.  I suppose I will deal with that as I come to it and for now savor the fact that I can still enjoy the release it provides me.

Where is your sanctuary?  Where do you go to think?

Posted in NaBloPoMo 2009, Thinkings | Leave a Comment »

Subway Etiquette

3 November, 2009 by Lindsay

I like etiquette.  I think it’s neat, if not in practice then at least to read.  I like the idea of conducting oneself in a manner befitting a proper gentleman or lady.  Granted, I  think that etiquette is sometimes carried too far, but general courtesy is something which is seemingly rare nowadays.  Etiquette is nice in that it provides a helpful guide for people in any given situation.

That is, except the subway.  Well, sort of.  Subways are awkward.  There is definitely unspoken etiquette at play, such as seating rules or standing rules, but it tends to make things complicated for me.  Everyone knows that you generally shouldn’t stare at others or make eye contact.  Books and newspapers provide a nice outlet for people, because people then have somewhere to look.  This doesn’t work for me.  I’ve tried reading a book on the subway, and I always get too absorbed and miss my stop.  If I concentrate on the T’s location and count stops, my concentration is lost to the book and having it is pointless.  I can’t set a timer, because my phone does not function when underground.

So, I listen to my iPod.  This works out well.  I can divide my attention equally enough to be able to pay attention to the current stop and my music.  It also gives me time to think.  What it does not give me is somewhere to look.  There are adverts in the T, but those take approximately twenty seconds to read, and I have most of them virtually memorized as is.  I never know where to focus my eyes.  I’m always afraid I’ll end up looking at someone and break the unspoken rule.  All that I can ever really safely look at are my hands, my lap or outside the window (when we’re above ground), and I don’t exactly relish the idea of staring at my hands or the threads in my pants for an hour.  I could do it, but there are other methods of torture that I’d rather experience first.  I have a hierarchy of preference should I ever be faced with that sort of decision (assuming the person torturing me is polite).

I have yet to devise some sort of solution to this problem that is workable and tolerable for me, and I have the feeling that the solution is going to be to train my inner clock to just know or to learn to not get so absorbed in reading.  Then again, closing my eyes and sleeping for an hour does have its appeal and provides an easy solution.

How about you?  Do you run into situations like this?

Posted in Blargh, NaBloPoMo 2009 | 3 Comments »

Clownin’ around in Salem

2 November, 2009 by Lindsay

I went to Salem with my roommate and some of her friends for Halloween.  I’ve been to Salem once before on Halloween, but I wasn’t there very long, and the only attraction I really experienced was the House of Seven Gables.  This year, after some initial group upheaval and confusion, Jessica, her brother, his fiancé and I went off on our own.

Now, I had never been huge on Halloween due to my, er, coulrophobia (that is, clown phobia), but it happens to be Jessica’s favorite holiday of all time.  I like it, I like the season, I just generally have to be on the cautious side.  However, I don’t like missing out, especially being so close to so much history.  So, I sucked it up and I decided to not give into my debilitating fear.  I actually did pretty well.

I kept seeing frightening clown costumes, and I’m proud to say that I handled it much better than can be expected.  Granted, there were…ridiculous amounts of people, and so I was always able to put at least fifteen people between myself and the killer clowns.  I would immediately look down at the ground, take several deep breaths and within less than a minute I was able to pretty much center myself.  I was proud!  That is, until we went to our last stop of the evening–a haunted house.  A haunted house with a clown.

I won’t go into all the particulars, but once I saw him, I clutched onto Jessica’s arm tighter, closed my eyes and buried my face into her shoulder.  I pretty much just froze.  I could feel him inches from me, but before we went in, we were warned that the monsters wouldn’t touch us.  That was my mantra in my head at that moment. “He can’t touch me, he can’t touch me, he can’t touch me.” I started crying–sobbing, actually.  I started shaking.  I couldn’t talk.  I could hardly breathe, but those words were running through my mind.  Jessica said perhaps the worst thing she could have at that moment, not realizing the repercussions.  She said, “She doesn’t like clowns.”  Cue my personal hell.

In a sing-song voice, he moved closer, right by my ear and chanted, “Ooooh, she doesn’t like clowns, does she?  Well, clowns like heeeeeer!”  I just…completely lost it.  Jessica thought I was laughing, but, no, I was crying.  We kept moving, my head firmly planted in her shoulder chanting, “He can’t touch me, he can’t touch me, he can’t touch me.” When I thought I was safe, I pulled my face away, and immediately, I feel an arm touching my shoulder and a hand waving in front of my face.  I bury my face in Jessica’s shoulder and then hear him whispering into my ear, “You thought I left you?” All I could think at that moment was, “He touched me, he touched me, he touched me!” My only mental safety net was ripped from underneath me.

Guys.  That sonofamonkey ignored every other freaking person in that place and followed me through the whole darn thing.  I’m not even kidding.  At the exit, there was a guy with a chainsaw.  Jessica was freaked out.  She told me to go first.  I didn’t even care at that point.  That guy didn’t scare me.  Nothing did–nothing but that clown.  I flung myself at the exit and threw my body out that door.

Once we were out, Jessica was still laughing.  She laughed the whole time, thinking I was laughing.  Then she turned around, saw me and started apologizing.  I was just bawling and shaking and I needed my anxiety pills.  Fortunately, I am smart, and I brought some with me.  I was given water, and with shaky hands took a double dose.  I still couldn’t speak or communicate other than nodding or shaking my head, but a few minutes later, I was ok.  We headed out after that, and about five or seven minutes after taking my pills, they kicked in and I started feeling numb.  I normally try not to take them, because I’d rather get through things on my own, but I deemed that instance more than necessary.  My cognitive functioning quickly slowed down, and, in turn, my fear-induced panic.  I more or less became a zombie.

It was…awful.  I hate anyone seeing me have a panic attack, and I’ve been fortunate enough that most of them that I have are when I’m alone, but for three people–and my roommate, no less–to witness me having one over a clown?  It wasn’t exactly a high point of my life.  However, I was ok.  I survived, and, despite that horrific event, it was actually a fun evening.  I’m choosing to look at this as a step in the right direction, because I knew I would see a few clowns, and even though it was very, very hard for me, I managed to handle all of those ones very well.  So, I may have not beat down one clown, but I managed all the rest of them.  Go me!  (We’re going to ignore the fact that I was only ok with the others because they weren’t harassing me, touching me, and there were copious amounts of readily available bodies to murder between them and me at any given time.  And the fact that my dreams for the past two nights have all had clowns in them.  Because we’re optimists.)

And, for your viewing pleasure, two pictures of Jessica dressed as a steampunk Alice in Wonderland:

Yes, she’s always this beautiful.

However, she is not always that pale.  In fact, she never is.  She borrowed some of my makeup so that she would be pale.  That makeup actually matches my skin tone, hers not so much.  It sort of makes her look deathly pale.  I really hope I don’t look like that.  (She makes me feel better by telling me that she’s jealous of my coloring.  She’s nice; I think I’ll keep her.)

Jessica wearing 3D glasses.  I thought she looked adorably geeky wearing them in her costume, so I took a picture.

 

Posted in Friends, NaBloPoMo 2009 | 2 Comments »

NaBloPoMo 2009

1 November, 2009 by Lindsay

Every year, I realize NaBloPoMo is coming up later and later than usual.  This year, I realized it was today.  Next year, I’ll be realizing it 2 November.  Or 2 December.  You know, whichever.  It’s been a very crazy week, what with turning my thesis in and preparing for Halloween and going to Salem for Halloween, but we currently have guests and my laptop is saying it’s 6:15 and my phone is saying it’s 7:15, and I’m really not sure which one is right (I’m going with 6:45–if Franklin can arbitrarily mess with time, so can I), so I can’t guarantee that I’ll get around to posting again later.  Have I mentioned that I am not a fan of DST?  I think I mention this twice a year.  I’d like to mention it again.  And then again.  And again.  More later!  As in tomorrow.

Posted in NaBloPoMo 2009 | 1 Comment »

Seven Quick Takes Meets Alice Thursday

30 October, 2009 by Lindsay

I missed Alice Thursday yesterday. I had to leave for RCIA, and then I spent the evening in the city for a Hocus Pocus and Pie party, and since our subway is not so terribly convenient and shuts down before the bars (I wasn’t at a bar, but I’m sure you can see the problems re: drunk driving), I could not make it back home. I had foreseen this problem, and my friend graciously allowed me to stay the night. So, I’m moving Alice Thursday to Seven Quick Takes Friday, and you get Seven Quick Alice Takes. Or something.

“No more kisses, Mama!  No more!”

“I mean, I guess these…Colt thingies are fun to watch.  They ram into each other and make fun noises.  I totally look better in blue, though.”

“Bumbo for baby!  Bumbo for baby!  Bumbo for baby!  Wheeeee, this is fun.”

Who let the dogs out?

Woof!  Woof, woof, woo…f?

“I’m Rolly, ’cause I’m hungry all the time!  Really!  All the time!”

“‘I’m hungry, Mother–really, I am.  I’m so hungry, I could a–a whole elephant!’  So I did.  And now I’m in a food coma.”

More quick takes can be found over at Conversion Diary.

Posted in Alice Thursday, Seven Quick Takes | 2 Comments »

Seven Quick Takes: The Quickest of the Quick

23 October, 2009 by Lindsay

1. On Sunday, I worked on my thesis.

2. On Monday, I worked on my thesis.

3. On Tuesday, I worked on my thesis.  (One of the men on my examination committee stood next to me while we waited for the subway.  I kept looking at anything and everything so as to pretend like I didn’t see him.  He kept glancing at me.  Once the T came, he sat across from me.  He glanced at me a few times.  I don’t know if he recognized me; I figure he didn’t and chalk it up to my odd mannerisms.  I kept debating whether or not to talk to him, but I figured that would be awkward, because then it might make my defense in December uncomfortable for him.  Maybe not.  I decided I didn’t want to risk it and put him in that situation, though.)

4. On Wednesday, I worked on my thesis.

5. On Thursday, I worked on my thesis.

6. Today?  I worked on my thesis.  Tomorrow?  I will work on my thesis.  Sunday?  I will work on my thesis.

7. On Monday, I turn in my thesis.

More quick takes can be found over at Conversion Diary.

Posted in Academia, Seven Quick Takes | 2 Comments »

Older Posts »