Jen of Here We Go Again, and also a very good friend of mine/adoptive internet mother, has interviewed me for your viewing (dis)pleasure, thus allowing me the opportunity to experience megalomania and operate under the pretense that someone other than she and my sister is actually interested in reading anything I have to say.  Should any of you reading this desire to be egotistical (and if you have a blog, I dare say you do have that desire from time to time), feel free to leave a comment, and I will return the favor by interviewing you.

1. You are younger than most of your friends.  Why do you think you get along so well with people who are a good bit older than you?

I am the youngest of three children by a six-year margin, and growing up in the country with few children around (much less children my age) left me rather limited in regards to playmates.  My brother, my sister, my books and my mind served as my primary playmates.  So, whenever I wasn’t off in my own world or in someone else’s, I was with individuals older than myself.  (This is not intended to sound as if I had a miserably and lonely environment when I was young; I didn’t.  In fact, I enjoyed growing up in the country.  I am dubious that I would be as cultured or well read as I am had I grown up surrounded by children and cable television and house upon house upon house and –holy moly, Corleone– where’d all the land go?)  I’ve often felt more comfortable in the presence of people who are several years older than me than I do with people my age, though I think my personality is equally contributable to that.  I’ve always been overly precocious and mature for my age.  I never really went through the angsty, rebellious stage that most teenagers do (or college students, for that matter).  I also rarely, if ever, use slang.  When I do throw it in, it just doesn’t sound right; I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I cannot pull it off.  Such is life.  In fact, sometimes I think I exited the womb nearly middle-aged.  That’s not to say that I am not playful or fun; I certainly can be, but I would say that I am probably more disciplined and proper than most.  Responsibility comes first.  As such, I usually always ask myself what the possible consequences of my words and actions could reap, and I try to act accordingly so that my conduct is befitting of a lady.  Essentially, I attempt to avoid any of my decisions biting me in the butt later.  Too many people think of the present and neglect the future, and I think that more and more that lack of foresight is causing a lot of unnecessary grief.

2. Because I like books, let’s have a paragraph on your favorites. (I know, it isn’t so much a question as a demand.) Do you think that the quality of the copy of a book adds anything to the experience of reading it?  I have most of my favorite books in nice hardcovers for this reason.

I’m going to answer the second part of the question first, because that one is easy.  I absolutely believe that the physical quality of a book is a huge influence on the reading experience.  Every individual book has a distinct character to it just as every novel is unique from every other novel.  I actually smell books before purchasing (or reading) them in order to help decide which one I want to bring home with me.  (I actually prefer antiques or previously owned books, because they tend to have a lovely smell and I love pondering the particular history of a book — where has it been?  Who has owned it?)  I do take stock of the physical components of a book — what sort of paper is used, whether it’s paperback or hardback, what it smells like, whether it’s been sewn or glued, etc. (Dear Publishing Houses, please go back to sewing books.  I would be willing to pay the extra money for a book that’s not as likely to rip apart due to use.  Thanks!)  However, that being said, it depends upon your intention(s) — hardbacks are preferable if your intention is acquisition or the occasional read; paperbacks are preferable if your intention is in-depth study & note-taking or frequent reading & usage.  I actually prefer to own one of each — one for rough use that has my personal touch on the book (to take notes or comments) and one to look pretty amongst my collection.  That’s the ideal, though, and not one which I have fully been able to implement.  SOMEDAY.

Picking a favorite book is a really, really mean thing to ask!  I can’t choose.  I’ve been thinking about this for many, many days, and I have yet to truly come to an answer.  In my history of reading, I have enjoyed everything I’ve read save for one book — Lord of the Flies.  I loved every book I’ve read both for school and pleasure save for that book, and that’s including books like The Scarlet Letter that most people dislike. (Can someone please explain to me why this is?)

I will tell you my favorite “dessert reads,” though, as I do have favorites of those: White Star, Darwin’s Blade, the Harry Potter series, and the Twilight series.  The first two books are about snipers, and I think most people know what the last two are about.  I love these books simply for their entertainment value, not for their intellectual value (for which there is little).

When I was in fourth or fifth grade, I would have said my favorite books were Indian Captive, Walk Two Moons and Death Be Not Proud — the last of which, titled after Donne’s phenomenal poem, is a nonfiction memoir about the author’s son who had a brain tumor.

I also have a deep fondness for A Little Princess.  Sara reminds me quite a bit of myself when I was younger, and the novel is very much what I would deem a comfort read.  (Doesn’t hurt that Frances Hodgson Burnett & I share the same birthday) Actually, I would deem every book I’ve listed as such, as I read virtually all of them at some point in my life when I desperately needed a world to escape to, and they all provided just that.  For some reason, they all provided much-needed catharsis when little else would.  I can’t explain why, but they did.

3. You became a Catholic as an adult.  How did your childhood affect this decision?  How did being an adult affect your experience of Catholicism?

I won’t go into much detail with regard to the first question other than to say that I had a rough childhood and that the suffering I experienced served as a direct catalyst to my conversion, though saying that makes it sound as if it was a conscious decision on my part.  I suppose that, in a way, it was — I spent two years, between the ages of ten and twelve, learning about different Christian denominations.  Although much of what I read surpassed my understanding of abstract concepts (since that’s about the age I started to comprehend — like I said, precocious), Catholicism did appeal to me as being particularly beautiful.  However, it also struck me as particularly…difficult, I suppose would be the best word.  Had I gone the easy road, I would not have taken this path.  Ultimately, even though I possess free will, I was called to Catholicism.  It was, as it remains to be, the lifestyle God has chosen for me.  Once I realized that, no amount of fighting really could change my decision.  And, believe me, I internally fought it while simultaneously rejoicing for having found a home.  I waited approximately seven years before I entered the Church, because I wanted to give myself time to ensure this was the right decision and I also wanted to give myself time to back out in case it was a passing phase.  I also did not wish to be baptized in the town I am from for various reasons.  Throughout those seven years, I never once actually attended Mass or any other church service except for funeral Masses of family members.  I was invited to go to church by friends of other Christian denominations, but I always found an excuse not to go.  I simply wasn’t ready.  By the time I was nineteen, I was more than ready to face my destiny, so to speak.

As far as how being an adult entering the Catholic faith has affected my experience, I would say that it has had a tremendous impact.  For one, I got baptized late in the game, and I consider myself quite lucky.  That’s not to say that I think adult baptism is superior, I don’t.  It’s just that I really like being able to remember that day so that when I celebrate it every year, I have a recollection of what I’m celebrating.  Also, I got nineteen years of sinning completely wiped clear.  (I recently was told of an 87-year-old woman getting baptized last Easter Vigil, and might I just say NICE JOB?  She’s pretty much got a nonstop flight to Heaven.)  I would be lying to say that I am not incredibly thankful for that nice little additional boost to my soul tally.  Secondly, I was old enough to appreciate and to understand the significance of it all and what it meant.  I was able to grasp as fully as is possible just how miraculous receiving Christ in body & blood was, and that is what I am most thankful for, so much so that I count how many times I have received the Eucharist.  I am sure I am off by a couple as far as human error goes, but it’s pretty accurate.  I don’t ever want to take that for granted, and I appreciate that opportunity.  I don’t think I would have taken advantage of it had I been younger.  Similarly, I think that goes for the whole experience.  I don’t have the childhood memories of sitting in the pew being bored out of my mind about things I couldn’t get my head around clouding any sort of enjoyment of the present day.  I get to experience it all in a new light that has not been tainted.  I think that ultimately being baptized and entering the Church as an adult has heightened my enjoyment and my appreciation.  It’s not the path that most Catholics tread, but it’s the one God planned for me, and although it’s not what I had envisioned for myself, I can honestly say that it is perfect.

4. What is your favorite thing about blogging?

I would have to say that my favorite thing about blogging is also my least favorite thing about blogging and easily the most dangerous thing about blogging — the release.  Most human interaction is fairly superficial & impersonal.  Statistically, gossip fills up the majority of conversation.  Joking around and being light-hearted is good, but in many ways, I feel as if the people I interact with and spend time with don’t truly know me.  Of course, you have to be careful in conversation so as to not offend anyone.  Usually, this means that you should avoid or tread carefully around the topics of family, religion and politics.  Of course, there are always other topics which you generally need to steer clear of.  People follow these rules less and less, and that always results in more and more heated arguments.  Most people aren’t very open-minded or respectful.  You encounter that in blogging as well, but you can say whatever you want and then click a button.  Sure, you might get some backlash, but it’s out there.  There isn’t anyone to cut you off.  I feel like blogging allows me to actually myself and who I am.  It’s unfortunate, but I often feel like the people who read this site probably have a better grasp of who I really am than the people who surround me in my everyday life.  I mean, it’s a very different view, but this is much more personal.  As I said, though, it’s also one of the biggest dangers of blogging.  You really have to deliberate upon what is and isn’t safe to write and share publicly with the world, because you can really reap a lot of damage if you’re careless.  I’ve encountered that problem, and there are topics I would like to write about but do not feel free to do so since I am not the only person involved.  It would be inappropriate at best, damaging at worst.  I have other people to consider and the image that posting such content would portray.  So, while I do love the release that blogging provides, I also find myself endlessly frustrated by the limitations of that release.

5. And since you are busy and have been sick, I throw you a freebie question.  Do you think my baby is cute?

No, I think she’s beautiful, just like her mama.