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1-13-04
I
am going to be a warrior princess with a duct tape sword.
Auuugh!
Why, oh why, must some Catholics insist on having their
own, special, elite group of people with culture that is
specifically Catholic in origination - and ignore all the
other beautiful things that are Catholic in their very essence?!
Like...the Ramones...or Latin dancing; even dancing at all.
At one point in time, I did wish that Catholics could go
off and start their own nation somewhere or other, but I
developed a tidbit of sense and realized "Gee - we're
not called to hide away and horde truth, but to cry it out
from the rooftops even if it means martyrdom." It's
a form of love towards are neighbor, and it is an imperfect
love if it is not encompassing everyone, despite their resenting,
scorning, or not acknowledging it.
This
also applies to culture, in one sense - culture, even if
not Catholic in name, can be Catholic in nature and we cannot
hide from this. Auugggh! Words are so inadequate. The Catholic
Church gathers all she can to herself, it does not matter
whether or not we percieve things to be good, but that we
take on the view the Church has and see with specially-enhanced-Church-goggles
and embrace the good always and everywhere.
Ave
crux, spes unica! Oh glorious Church! Truly did whatshisface
said that not even a hundred hate the Church for what it
truly is.
Never
give up! I was foolish to become downhearted at the thought
of the two upcoming weeks - huzzah! Sound the trumpets,
blare the horns, take out victory wreaths - for I have resolved
to be cheerful even if I perish in the attempt.
My
siblings are weird.
J.M.J.
keep you close,
Mood:
Tranquil
Music: Eels - The Medication Is Wearing Off
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1-12-04
Death
Cab For Cutie has some really cute songs.
I
keep forgetting that people somehow or other find my website
- hi people!
These
next couple'a weeks are going to be grueling - not because
of college - march for life, and a weekend of babysitting.
I must read ahead if'n I wish *this* weekend to be free
for complete and utter abandonment to merriment. *sigh*
Please pray for my endurance, patience, and temper during
the next two weeks. I'm going to be falling behind, already,
and then getting depressed and curling up into a little
ball crying silently in my room with all the lights off
so people will think I'm asleep, missing my family, and
generally having nervous breakdowns every three minutes.
It
won't be that bad. I hope.
J.M.J.
keep you close,
Mood:
Meloncholy
Music: Death Cab For Cutie - Sound Of Settling
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1-11-04
Yes
- I know my pet peeve sounded scathingly mean to all and
sundry, but I do make distinctions between those who do
these things with innocent intentions all aglow, and those
who don't consider consequences, and those who are just
mean little punks and deserve to have their bottoms dusted
with a shoe that has some force impelling it.
Babysat
my two youngest siblings for 6 1/2 hours. Became little
sister's tissue, as she (and brother) had a horrendous cold.
I'm all slimed up now - it must be a special baby-defense-mechanism
designed to weed out those who truly care for the well being
of the baby as opposed to those who care only for their
silly-food-trough-wiper-clothing. See - if they're materialistic,
they won't treat the child right....or something.
Owies.
I manage to hurt myself frequently - sometimes, never even
knowing how I did it. I've developed a limp, because my
leg seems...out of joint. How I did that...only the muses
know. Next, last night (a bare 50 minutes ago), I managed
to bruise my upper-legs bountifully, when playing King Elephant
with Ellen, Marie, Martin, Eric, Matthew and Ben. I am bruised,
bleeding, and with a gimp leg. Prone to accidents (the most
memorable at Campion being when running down the stairs
in the girls dorm, seeing two doors, getting easily confused,
and instead of heading for either opening ran straight into
the wall --- splat), and with a pet peeve.
The
peeve being that when guys try to mimic me, I get terribly
angry at their audacity, for unconsciously, they exaggerate
everything beyond belief and come up with a monster-like
image. It is rude to the person being imitated, if done
in a negative fashion. For example, I begin to wonder when
people stick their front teeth out, and make ugly faces,
imitating me, as to whether I am really that grotesque,
and that they can take even a genuine smile of mine, and
joy at something, and then throw it in my face to simply
mock and magnify the fault of my looks. Isn't it genius
to think someone would be amused at such a disregard for
someone's feelings? You do not wander up to a lady and tell
her "GEE! You're FAT, and I don't mean P-H-A-T, nyuck,
nyuck, nyuck!!!" It's simply a slap in the face - she
knows how she looks, and if she's made fun of for something
that in some cases she simply cannot help -well she'll think
you're terribly rude and/or feel as though if she's so horrible
that people comment, then she isn't worth beans. Don't make
fun of people in that way. It is so very mean.
Bed
time. Wheee! I love my pillows. I think I'm going to propose
to mine, tomorrow. Bob-the-pillow is so very shy and refuses
to speak up, although we were obviously made for
each other.
J.M.J.
keep you close,
Mood:
Sleepy
Music: Silence
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1-9-04
Damn
I'm good!
Anonymous
opposing debator: Rabid... you better read some books
about the early church
Anonymous opposing debator: before you make a claim
like that
Anonymous opposing debator: because that's totally
WRONG and show's you've been influenced by like minded individuals
Woweee...
I went into a *Catholic* chatroom and was jumped on by two
people for having the audacity to state that the Church
is the same now as it was 2000 years ago, with a third person
urging them on. Sure, our views of things have been refined,
but the Church Herself hasn't. It all started with relavatism,
and a Catholic jumped down my throat for saying there was
some concrete morality... I was accused of being "blinded."
That makes three times in the past week that people have
accused me of being the equivilent of brainwashed, stupid,
and close-minded.
Reminds
me of my English class wherein my entire class (minus one
or two people who agreed with me) started yelling at me
for my beliefs and the teacher had to call the class to
order. o=) >=) Or again, during my many debates in biology
with 2-4 classmates at a time, per week. Am I that confrontational?
It's not that I'm extremely good at debating, it just happens
to come my way. Maybe it's because I'm not good at debating
that people decide to get an easy score and ostensibly crumble
someone's world...?
I
had another dream, last night. I was in our kitchen, discussing
with my older brother how to achieve truth, which was on
the pinnacle of a tower off in the distance. I suggested
flying, and then leapt out the window and soared off into
a park, forgetting about my brother and the pursuit of truth
- because of what happened in the park.
When
I landed, beheld a grisly scene - there were heads as far
as the eye could see. I think they were dead. The perpertrator
of the deed, was an Irish Terrior, who was raging at humanity's
injustices and taking it out on the people itself. It's
master came (an old lady in a frilly cap, with a triple-chin
and a lady-like dress), and she gently remonstrated it without
meaning what she said (only for appearance), and took him
off to have tea with a duchess, or some other high-falutin'
people.
I
flew after (whee!), and landed on her porch, and entered
into the house, where her terrior was by her side, and she
was delicately discussing stuff, on a white wicker chair,
drinking tea with fine china. There were potted palm trees
all around, and I came to the lady and asked her where I
could fly from, with her dog. She stared at me disdainedly,
waved her hand and imparted that there was a roof. I looked
at the dog, and took it, for I wanted to help. I understood
that the dog wasn't inherently bad, but bitter and resentful,
and I needed to show it beauty. I went back to the porch,
and began climbing metal stairs which went up and up and
up. As I climbed, the dog turned into a fat, spoiled child,
and yet I felt an infinite amount of love for him as I led
him gently up the stairs.
When
I got to the top of the stairs, I was on a tower looking
hundreds and hundreds of feet down. I was ready to fly,
and the boy hung back, crying because he was so scared -
for he knew I was planning to fly. I had no idea if I could
or no with me carrying this added weight, or even if I could
fly this high. But I had to fly with him - he would die
an old man, sick and twisted in his bedroom, consumed with
worms of hatred that would make him miserable for all eternity.
I had to save him. I had to - he only needed overflowing
love to wash away his hatred of humanity. And because I
enjoyed flying. So I took him to my side, clasped him, and
told him not to be scared - he could trust me. He stopped
crying, and I jumped and dropped and---
--- with an exhilarating feeling of relief, I swooped along
with the child, and landed back in the park. There, I distracted
him from setting his rage free again, by simply doing things
with him that any child would love - swinging, blowing bubbles...
Then I woke up.
It
was a very vivid dream, and despite the horrors, I wasn't
scared at all. I felt only compassion and sadness - and
great joy at being able to fly. I *think* that the events
above were what happened, but am not 100% sure. I wouldn't
want to have it again, for the tragedy was too great. This
small hurt boy, wildly lashing out and no one caring for
him...
J.M.J.
keep you close,
Mood: Contemplative
Music: Vast - The Last One Alive
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1-8-04
I
let myself think today about the situation of the women
at Campion. I don't often do so, as it makes me rather irate.
When going to to MFL, the boys will have showers and the
girls will not (unless something changes). For four days.
It's not anyone's fault, it just happened that way, and
I'll have a fine and dandy time.
Yet - what the heck is up with the girls getting the short
straw all the time? We're the weaker sex! Protect, honor,
cherish, strew our paths with roses instead of laughing
at our miseries and pain. Sheeze. We are treated as though
we are the brawny, muscular males...
I FEEL REVERSE-SEXUALLY-DISCRIMINATED-AGAINST! (referring
not to MFL) I want my pedestal back, darnit!
Today
most royally sucked. Tomorrow, though, is a new day as is
this next minute, hour, and so on. Just keep smiling, just
keep smiling.
It
wasn't wise of me to accidentally get no sleep last night,
and then forget to eat until afternoon, after working, working,
working on some time-sensitive stuff. My body is now kicking
me and making me make it up to the tired cells, for within
the past few hours, I've consumed a huge bowl of soup, a
pb&h sandwhich, and a large mug of cocoa. For me, that's
sufficient for a day (when sitting down at a computer -
don't be shocked), but I'm still hungry.
J.M.J.
keep you close,
Mood:
Calming down
Music: Nat King Cole - It's Only A Paper Moon
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