16 posts tagged “miscellaneous”
I've been asked several times in the last few weeks what my summer plans will be. They are many, varied, occasionally peculiar, and most of them very ME. Observe:
-No school. No, that isn't like me. Yes, I'll have a good 12+ weeks sans-school. I'm tired and my brain has the IQ of soggy and day-old oatmeal. Furthermore, I don't NEED those classes to be finished by a certain time, so ha!
-Lots of work (bit more like me :P). I was told that hours would be cut this summer, and was most unamused as we had hired almost a dozen new people for summer (my point being "if you have people who are already trained and want more hours, why the blazes would you cut their hours and hire seasonal summer people?"). However, of the ten hired, EIGHT have already quit in one way or another. I've given the store almost complete availability, and was told yesterday that my hours would "max out" throughout the summer. $$$=nice. Veeeerrrrry nice. Some in savings, some fun purchases, etc. I'll also do some pet-sitting; I have a few groups of people in the area for whom I will take care of critters in exchange for money while they are on vacation or what have you. What can I say? Getting paid to receive fuzz therapy: it just doesn't get much better than that!
-My books-to-be-read-during-summer list is growing. Some great literature that I've never read (Wuthering Heights, most of Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, did Victor Hugo write anything beside Les Mis, and that's a very partial list), some books on music/singing/singers that I've wanted to read but not had the time (Joan Sutherland's autobio, bios of Mozart, Beethoven and Bach, Tebaldi's biography, for a few examples), some books on theology (there is so much I don't understand but want to know more about and try to see the reasoning, etc), some just-plain-fun books (yayyayyayyayYAY Elizabeth Peters is FINALLY doing another Vicky Bliss novel, I think Donna Andrews has another coming out, I need to catch up on Iris Johannson -sp?-, etc, etc, etc)
-then there's the yard, which has definite potential, but needs more time than I have during the semester. The patio needs work, weeding and mulching must be done, and an herb pot or two (or six) need to be set up.
-SOUTH PADRE. 21ST BIRTHDAY. ENOUGH SAID.
-Oh, yeah, and there'll be some music in there, too. :P I'll be stopping by school a few days a week to practice songs for next semester, which will be fun/productive/focusing and all that good stuff.
yes, that books list is long. I read REALLY quickly. Even with school and work, I finished Les Mis (all 800+ pages, if I remember correctly) in a couple of days. Without school, I could easily sit down and read something like that cover-to-cover just because I enjoy it.
Oh, and amusing story today. I attend the traditional (ie, pre-'64) Latin Mass. I suspect I stand out a bit in this relatively small congregation (about 150 or so) as I'm a single woman who doesn't live with her parents, dresses considerably more liberally than most there (I once brought a friend to church with me, and she has ever since refered to the congregation as "fundamantalist Catholics"), and attends college with every intention of a career.
So, as I walk from my car to the church, I notice that something doesn't feel quite...right. Hmm.
I am wearing a light (green underskirt, tropical flower veiling overskirt) summer skirt, as it is in the 70s. It reaches to about mid-calf, and is slit on one side to the knee. Perfect for evening church in the spring with an uber-conservative congregation. All light, airy, spring-y, etc.
In fact, a bit too airy.
When I glanced down, I realized that I must have caught part of the skirt on something while getting in or out of the car, because that slit is now more like mid-thigh.
Naturally, I realize this while I'm in the middle of crossing a street.
On the bright side, I'm about two minutes late for church. No one else is in the street with me.
I finish crossing the street with a dainty grasp on the edge of the skirt. Anyone seeing me might (I can hope, right?) think that I was just lifting my skirt slightly, the better to take long steps. Or something.
Once I get inside and get into a pew, I dig discreetly in my purse for my emergency safety pins, which, I belatedly realize, I neglected to return to my purse post-musical. Brilliant. I decide that this skirt will become a "hip-hugging" skirt, rather than have it sit at my waist where it usually is. That slit is still somewhat above the knee, but at least there is no breeze in the church and the skirt is rather full.
Did I mention that this priest once gave a sermon on how SHORT SLEEVES (ie, above the elbow) are immodest? Really, he has many good points, but he is a bit over-sensitive on the modesty in dress issue.
(my crack after that sermon about "if someone is turned on by my elbows when I bare them during a texas summer, it's his problem and not mine" would not have gone over well, I think)
Needless to say, I departed RAPIDLY when Mass was over, skirt still delicately clutched in left hand.
If you have cats, ALWAYS check the bathtub for felines before reaching behind the shower curtain and turning on the spray preparatory to the post-workout shower.
That is all.
More after finals.
Mmm. What a concept!
Last night, I went to sleep shortly after midnight. Hey, for me that's early! I'm unquestionably a night owl.
When I got up, I spent most of the morning cleaning the house and doing laundry. Laundry is washed, ironed, hung, folded et all, and the house looks absofreakinlutely fantastic. I've even made chicken-vegetable soup from the bones of the chicken I've been eating this week. That smell (quite good) combined with the smell of a clean house (murphy's oil soap, white vinegar, laundry starch) just can't be beaten! I finished off with a home facial, and my skin is in the post-facial-ticked-off stage. Eh, whatever. The skin will look really good tomorrow or Tuesday.
Now to get dressed and go sing. We're doing a Solemn High Mass this evening, which is rather unusual. Apparently the deacons (who are in the process of becoming priests) of the order that runs this Latin Mass community are in town, and the local priests want to show them what a Solemn High Mass looks like. In short, all the smoke and bells and gold trim and music, music, music. I prefer polyphony for a Solemn High Mass, but we are (of course) doing chant. On the bright side--better something we know REALLY well than something we know fairly well and may therefore mess up. There is a rumor that the bishop may stop in, which would, of course, be exceptionally cool. Can one use the word "cool" when talking about a bishop? Apparently so.
Now to go find something cute, cool (it is now humid and in the mid-80s) and church-appropriate from my closet. Easier said than done.
Gerald Augustinus of Closed Cafeteria blog fame has nailed it again! In this post, he details his views on feminism.
I attend the Tridentine Latin Mass. Yes, in Latin. Yes, in the style in which one would expect in, say, 1960. Yes, in full accordance with Rome, et all.
I am somewhat unusual in this parish for many reasons. First, I am a single woman who doesn't live anywhere near her family. In fact, I live with a room mate. Second (and even more unusual) I attend college. And not even a Catholic college! I also went to public high school. I dress in a manner that many women there would probably consider immodest: while I wear a below-the-knee skirt and do not show cleavage at Mass, I do wear slacks and jeans and wear lower-cut shirts outside of church. I am not going to be a nun, and have no idea if I'll ever get married. And if I do, I'll always work outside the home to some degree, and will not homeschool any kids, thankyouverymuch. In fact, I dream of being on stage and performing music and teaching others how to do exactly that 'til I drop in my tracks. Oh yes, and I'm a firm believer in women being able to work or stay home as they see fit, receiving equal pay for equal work (and working at any job, provided that they are capable to perform that job), and voting/running for office/being involved in politics. If this makes me a feminist, I guess that I am, and darn proud of it at that! (insert several women from this church fainting dead away at ANY of these ideas here)
It isn't all as bleak as you might picture from the last paragraph. There is beauty and reverence and the sensation of moving on a higher plane (well, you are) as you witness the Mass in all its glory. There are kind and wonderful people; my choir director there has always been so accepting and helpful. This is a guy who, when I came to my first choir practice and couldn't figure out how to get back home as I was completely lost, asked what neighborhood I lived in (note: didn't ask where I lived, as that would be a tad creepy for the first time we'd talked, but merely what AREA) and then offered to drive me back to the main street from which I could find my way home. Completely out of his way, I might add.
But one can see why I might be so delighted to read that post and see that there actually are men who a) attend the Tridentine Mass and/or support it, yet b) actually believe in equal rights for women, in not treating them as property, in having them make their own decisions about education, work, family et all.
Thank you, Gerald!
(and yes, he is happily married)
(warning: MAJOR political-social rant ahead. I had to write about this or it would be stewing with me all day.)
Oh yes, we said. We need to have the Olympic games hosted in China. Okay, so Chinese officials will imprison anyone for many years for the crime of owning a bible. They force their women to have abortions rather than exceed the one-child limit in most districts. They imprison Catholic bishops (ie, ones not appointed by the state) and beat and starve them for refusing to propagandize. Their factories (thanks in no small part to our corporations who want a bigger profit!) have their workers work for slave wages. When girls are adopted by non-Chinese parents from an orphanage, the girl who will be adopted is fattened up (while others in the home are deprived of food) lest the Westerners see exactly how bad it is. (I have friends who adopted from China, and when they saw this happening, they actually took all four girls from the group home because they couldn't bear to see it go on.) Disagree openly--even peacefully--with the government? Prison time at best. Or you may "disappear." But hey, to suggest that they quit it already with the massive human rights violations would be, well, MEAN. Or something. Instead, let's give them a stamp of frickin' approval and host the Olympics there. (Just be sure the athletes don't try to bring a bible into the country. Because doing so means that you are barred from entry FOREVER.) Oh, how very multicultural we are! Let's all pat ourselves on the back. In the meantime, this is going on. Don't click on that link unless you have a strong stomach and a box of tissues.
Hello? Olympic committee? I really hope you feel that this multiculturalism stuff is worth these animals dying horrible deaths so that the city looks nice for the foreign visitors. I'd argue that those responsible for that decision should be forced to go through what those cats are going through. Lock the damn committee up in cages without so much as room to turn around, and let them die horrible deaths of horrible infections. Oh, fear not; I wouldn't do that. But there is a very special place in hell for those who make such decisions and then pretend ignorance of the results. Bastards.
I have to go hug my cats now. And I really need to stop reading/watching/listening to the news.
(this post will be periodically updated this weekend to remind myself that I'm actually getting stuff done)
-finished prepping for French oral exam
-did my taxes and filed 'em. In fact, I have $340 coming back to me. Nice.
-discovered that I did NOT receive mother's tax return and that she only sent me her W-2. Can't complete FAFSA without the 1040. Lurvely.
I put two, count 'em TWO-dos, deux, TWO pillowcases in that last load of laundry. Wash the pillowcases twice a week, they say. Cuts back on acne. In that department, I need all the help I canget.
So why in heck can I only find ONE pillowcase in this just-dried load of laundry?
Very disturbing.
Tonight, we had an evening off. After putting in plenty of time at school (first piano class, then stage touchup) I came home.
And crashed.
I think that all the accumulated lack of sleep hit me right between the eyes. I had/have so much housework and homework to do that it just isn't funny. I came in and sat on the couch with my knitting for an hour before deciding that nothing but a nap would suffice. I grabbed a pillow and blanket, and fell asleep almost immediately.
Three hours later, I woke up. I was still a bit tired. I cleaned the kitchen (no longer a Health Department violation, thankyouverymuch!), and folded some laundry. I even cleaned my purse, which now weighs (I kid you not) five pounds less than it did pre-clean.
My desk will wait 'til tomorrow. Or Friday. Or, quite possibly, the weekend.
today we had a dress rehearsal for Thursday's production of A Grand Night for Singing.
much makeup was applied, many voices were warmed, much laughter was shared.
this was an invitational dress rehearsal; basically, it was a performance without much announcement thereof.
a dear, sweet friend sent flowers to me backstage. talk about making my night! did i mention that I love roses?
we laughed some more.
we took the stage, and sang our hearts out.
we sang our hearts out again.
at some point this evening post-rehearsal it came to me that i was actually doing this.
me.
ubicaritas.
yes, me.
i had actually spent the last few days getting the set ready, rehearsingrehearsingrehearsing, and doing various stage activities.
i've been existing mostly on caffeine (whoever created the hazelnut-mocha-extra-shot deserves a Nobel), and regular meals are so three-weeks-ago.
so, there i was, pinning this girl's hair into a half-up. i had on more makeup than i'd ever worn in my life, i was wearing a turquoisey satin gown, my hair was pinned up into an updo. i was surrounded by many, MANY women, and this is not a huge room.
all i can think about was how happy i was and am. for the first time in my life, i'm not looking in. i am surrounded by wonderful, wonderful, wonderful people. i am doing what i genuinely love and want to do forever. i can laugh with those around me. i can talk and joke and laugh and feel free and accepted and loved. i can start to be me. the shell is cracking.
when i went back north for a few days last january, i ran into several high-school classmates. not one of them recognized me. last week, i saw a guy i went to school with (not the school i now attend). he recognized me after we talked for a minute or so, but kept saying "you look...different. really different." both of those, i think, are good things.
the high school classmates? they always saw a desperately unhappy and bored girl with braces, glasses, and atrocious skin who couldn't talk. literally, couldn't talk. i was too afraid.
the former college acquiantance? he had seen someone who had no idea what she wanted in life except more than she had--someone who had no idea how to dress and who was so tired and unhappy she looked twice her age, to the point where she was frequently assumed to be the mother of one of her classmates.
and then i think about where i am now. am i perfectly happy with the way i look? nope. but i am happier. i don't cringe when i look in the mirror, or walk past it with my eyes closed and my face turned away. i am...happy. and joyous. and my heart is truly full. and that's what matters.
and i can't even begin to explain this feeling adequately or eloquently. just know that i am sitting here with a very full heart, and am at peace.
and now to bed, lest this joy and serenity be marred by yet another sleepless night :P
this is a bit more soul-searching than i usually do; i may end up setting it as a 'friends only' post. for now, i'll leave it as is.
if you're reading this, try calling again. i knocked the phone off the shelf (thereby mising the call) and my phone refuses to make international calls. :P
