These suckers are homicidal little buggers, even after they're dead.

Somehow, it's only fitting that we should eat them. I'm thinking I should buy some (after all, they ARE on sale . . . ) just to have the satisfaction of munching on something which has stabbed and poked me so many times.

So, you're raising an eyebrow, right? Why on earth am I handling king crab legs?

Weeeellll, you see, the store owner, Larry, got confused.

I called in to the good old grocery store to inform them that I would indeed be able to work over semester break, if they could use me. I also inquired after a job for my fiance, as he had expressed interest in making some extra cash if he could. Finding that my fiance had experience in the seafood department, and seeing that a couple people were on vacation back there and they could really use the help, they decided to hire him. Moreover, Larry, the store owner, got the idea into his head that they needed me back there, too. So, I ended up double-scheduled at both the cash register and the seafood counter - Angie had to shuffle things around. In the end, both Matthew and I ended up working in the meat and seafood department for the duration of Christmas break.

Now, an interesting facet of this new position made itself apparent within the first ten or twenty minutes of my first shift. I am princessed to an excessive degree in the meat and seafood department - it seems the butchers are exceedingly unaccustomed to having young women around. A couple of these bloody-aproned, tall, burly men, having removed all the four letter words from their vocabulary (small traces of chivalry are present, by some grace), are nearly mute, when it is quite obvious that they are, by nature, nothing of the sort to remain so disinclined to conversation. I would have it no other way - their usual modes of expression would hardly suit my taste, but the situation is rather awkward, nonetheless. I may have traces of country-bumpkin ancestry: I can speak fluent red-neck, as Matt has now seen first hand, but my southern roots are not strong enough to make me comfortable with being called "Miss Eh-mahly" all the time.

Keep the wedding plans in your prayers, everybody. Things are currently looking kinda rocky in that area right now . . . why, oh WHY, can't I have a teeeeeny tiny little wedding, huh? Why not?

Lots of love!!

I Miss My '73 Dodge Dart

Yeah, it just occurred to me . . . I miss my car.

. . . she looks kinda like this. (Yes, we refer to her with a feminine pronoun and she has a name - Suzie, the Swinger.) I'm afraid both of the cars pictured above are in in better shape than my Suzie, but she could look this good, if I had the money to fix her up a little - and, moreover, her mileage is really low, she runs pretty well, and her heater works really well. That's definitely a plus.

I get to see her this Saturday, though. Yay!

For Want of Charity

Perhaps I should get my head checked. I read an article in the Los Angeles Times yesterday and I found myself inclined to agree with it. This ought not happen, most of the time.

Now, perhaps it would be more correct to say that I read an article in the LA Times and agreed with the conclusions it reached, while many of the means it used to reach those conclusions I do not consider outstandingly persuasive. I mean, I will grant some of the observations hit at something like the truth. That I will say. For anyone who wants to read the article, it's here.

The question is about child molesters; should people be kept track of and chased out of their homes by angry neighbors with signs protesting their presence? I've seen reports on the KC news about this sort of thing happening there - it must happen fairly often, especially if it manages to happen here in CA where almost everyone is a crazy liberal nutjob.

Now, I have to admit that these people are sufferring the unavoidable consequences of their actions - society has been forced to distrust them, at least to some degree. Nevertheless, I can't help but think it's completely unjust to persecute someone for past sins when they've already made the necessary recompense to society as required by law. It keeps them from being able to live anywhere, keep a job . . . it just plain risks their capability to support themselves, ever again.

Moreover, it seems to me that it's an upfront violation of Christian charity to act this way. I simply don't see how anyone could justify this kind of behaviour if they accept Christian ethics.

What are your thougts about it, all you, uh, people who read this blog?

Alexis de Tocqueville, part One

He was really very young, wasn't he?
Makes sense - he wrote most of his work before the age of 40, I think, and a good bunch of it before the age of 30.
That is simply amazing.

I just read two works in seminar where I mostly agreed with the author and came away with a good opinion of his character. If you are not a student or grad, chances are you have no idea how rare this is for an upperclassman. Junior and Senior year seminar are both largely devoted to reading works by crazy people. Modest sanity is by no means the norm; I'm telling you, this experience has been surreal.

There were a few highlights I wanted to share with the people who read this blog. There are not many of you, I know, but hey - -

The first work we read was "Democracy in America": it's a critique of American sociology and government, and it's aim is to give Europe a model to either aim for or avoid emulating, depending on the circumstances. Another fitting title for it would be "America and Democracy: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly - A Documentary for the European Politician-"

De Tocqueville's take on the relationship between Church and State is really rather intriguing. He claims that only underdevloped, crude or uncivilized religions contain doctrine concerning particular political practices, and that the people who adhere to such religious systems cannot function in democratic societies. As far as I can see, these religiously-implemented political practices he deliniates as to-be-avoided are not ethical standards; he explicitly expects religions to provide for that (faith is the basis for a provision of "mores"). Rather, these political practices are specific decrees regarding a people's relation to another. Two examples he names of primitive religions unfit for democratic society are Judaism and Muhammadism.

And I quote: "Mohammed had not only religious doctrines descend from Heaven and placed in the Koran, but political maxims, civil and criminal laws, and scientific theories. The Gospels, in contrast, speak only of the general relations of men to God and among themselves. Outside of that they teach nothing and oblige nothing to be believed. That alone, among a thousand other reasons, is enough to show that the first of these two religions cannot dominate for long in enlightened and democratic times, whereas the second is destined to reign in these centuries as in all the others."

How politically incorrect is that? Haha! I love it.

Now, while I'm still trying to sort out whether there should be an objection made to his lines of reasoning, I have to admit in my experience with this author that his theories are based entirely off of rather a common-sensical observation of history and the habits of man. If there were some problem it would not be answered easily. I happen to think there's a good chance that this is the reason why we shouldn't try to implement democracy into a country like Iraq. As Aristotle says - the art of politics, when practically applied, must take into account what form of government a people are fit to receive, and give them the best arrangement of that form possible. De Tocqueville's argument seems to square with this, and he ties religions with political dictates to an incapacity to form a democracy or a republic. I don't believe he provides any argument for this from cause; only a inductive formation of a concept from effects. Since this is hardly a first principle I think causes could be assigned, which means that there is some argument left unmade, and it might be made either for or against de Tocqueville's theory. hmmmmmm . . . . if only I had the time to think these things out properly.

I have more to say about Mr. de Toqueville, but it will have to wait until later. Somehow, I ended up with a lot of work to do today. Go figure.

Lots of love to everyone,
Em

Red Rock Canyon

I went on a camping trip with Miss D. and a bunch of senior girls this past weekend.

We camped here.Well, okay, maybe this photo makes it look too good.
It didn't always look this nice. It only looked like that in the mornings and evenings.
Otherwise, it looked like this.
Which is still pretty, but if you think it looks hotter than heck, you're right.
I mean, it's the Mohave desert for goodness sakes.
We saw one of these near camp
- it's evidently called a "chuckwalla". I thought he was kinda cute. Many of the other girls did not.
and speaking of cute, we also saw lots of these- adorable little beggars, aren't they? Fortunately, these "little bears" stayed away from our food, although we could tell it was with reluctance that they did so. They'd get two feet away from you when you ate, asking for a bite. It was hard to keep from feeding them, but the consequences of doing so would probably have been severe.

I have lots of intellectual things to say but I'm going to do it when I don't have a headache.
Much love to everyone,
Em

Anno

I knew the day was going downhill when . . .

. . . I fell off this bus . . .

Upon arriving at LAX I promptly fell from the airporter steps onto the pavement at the airline curb.

No, no, no, hold on a second here, you are saying.

What are you talking about?

Let me explain.

Several months ago I had a crazy idea; what if I were to surprise my finace with a visit during Don Rags (which, being a senior, I no longer have)?

Several difficulties presented themselves: who would help me organize my trip?

What would my mother say?!?!

Turns out, I found out that the Ignoramus was more than willing to give some advice. I also found a way to contact my fiance's roomate, who was willing to get me a ride to AMU from the airport. My mother gave her approval, and I also found an affordable plane ticket - everything just fell into place.

I've been looking forward to it for weeks.

Well, now, naturally I didn't post about it. My second obsession, beginning this semester, actually reads my blog now and then . . . wouldn't want to spoil the suprise. :)

Hereby resuming the account of my travels.

After my tumble from the bus, my 4 1/2 hour flight was delayed for an hour and 10 minutes. Since I had originally only 45 minutes to make my connection I ended up missing my next flight, stranded about two hours from my final destination. My airline was going to make me wait another 14 hours for the next flight, and I, naturally, didn't want to wait that long to get to my betrothed. I thought to myself, "Do I call him and spoil the surprise, or do I find a way to AMU on my own?"

The surprise was too good to spoil.

So, I hitched a ride to Naples with another stranded family (there were about 10 of us on that flight, and nobody thought it necessary to hold the plane for 10 minutes. May American Airlines go bankrupt). After getting closer to my final destination, I was picked up by my fiance's roomate in the lobby of an Embassey Suites in the wee hours of the morning (it was an open, safe and convenient place to wait, okay?). I finally arrived on the AMU campus at 3 a.m.

My fiance's roomate, Jeff, being quite the joker, parked the car and told me to stay put. He returned to my finace, who was sleeping in their room, and told him that he had a buddy in the car who was so smashed he needed to be carried inside. Disturbed but obliging, my boyscout of a fiance followed Jeff out to the car. My love had been told that Jeff was expecting a visit from an old college friend, so he was expecting a thirty-something frat boy.

I watched in the rearview mirror as they approached the car, waited until they got pretty close, and then got out.

It took my fiance some time to even recognize who I was. (For which I have been giving him a very hard time). After my greeting (which was very affectionate and familiar - not going to expound) all he could say was "Oh my gosh" over and over again.

He's been teary-eyed with happiness all week.

So, despite my horrible, no good, very bad day of traveling, everything worked out beautifully.

Now, as for my impressions of this place . . .

well, it's not T.A.C.

Not every place can be that good, though, I suppose. The students aren't as smart, the people aren't as friendly, the campus isn't as unified, and the studying isn't all that important to anyone (besides the graduate students - who are given quite a load).

My finace and I agree - we're only here for him to get the necessary degree, and comparatively, at least the material he's being given is decent stuff, even if the professors are kinda strange. The "Chastity Team" and cheerleader undergrads are of no real concern to us. Ahhh, yes, good old utilitarianism. But really, what else can you do?

Lots of love to ya'll,

Emily

Survey

Okay, so, we're having a dorm party for Halloween.
We're supposed to be carving pumpkins as an activity.
Now, I think this design is hilarious, so I want to try it.
Is it in . . . uuhm, bad taste?

More or less, is my sense of humor kinda sick?
Maybe.

I still think it's funny.
Lots of love,
Em

I want to see fall again.
*sigh* . . . .

Awwww

Aren't these just the cutest little rascals EVER?





I simply cannot believe my twin siblings are this old now. The little stinker on the right is too big for me to heft anymore, and she's getting FAR to smart for her own good. Her twin brother on the left is really, really skinny so he's easily tossed about. Somehow, his legs just keep getting longer, though. I don't know how he has enough body mass to sustain more length, but he manages it. -?-

I'm very busy this week. I have another naaaaaaasty Hegel reading to finish before tonight, and I have to make sure my schoolwork is completed before the arrival of certain grads this evening, who will most certainly eat up all my free time. *grin*

Hope everyone is doing well!
Lots of love,
Emily

This

This is pretty much how I feel about Hegel.
'Blah blah blah, blah blah.'
He pretty much just throws words onto a page, in no particular order.
'Blah blah blah, Yay Germany!, blah blah blah.'
That's about all I get out of it.

I need to ask the Dean why in the sam' heck we read this, I think. It's so obscure, I'm not sure if there IS anything to figure out about it . . .

And now I have to talk about this nonsense, with 20 other people, for 2 hours.

-!-

If Mr. O. understands this guy, I'm really gonna start wondering about him - - well, more so than I do already, anyhow.

Well, anyway, it's back to work for me.
Lots of love to you all,
Em

This will be me this weekend, I guess.

Confound you, Mr. W! I was having fun watching movies and playing with toys, and now you've gone mussed it all up with a truckload of those dag-nabbed equations you love so much.

*sigh*

Well, at least I have the weekend to figure the stuff out . . .

or, well, . . . at least I have the weekend to rack my brain until I give up and go mooch the knowledge offa somebody else - which is the more likely thing to occur.
Much more likely, in fact.

Have a great weekend, everyone!
You are now having more fun than I am.

Hugs,
Em

WAVES

They really are beautiful things.
Although, I must say, I never appreciated them as much as I do now.

Why, you ask?
Because they've given me an opportunity to watch movies and play with toys in lab class.
That's why.

I mean, seriously, you can't say this Bell Labs Wave machine doesn't look like a ton of fun.

Even so it's not half so much fun as watching one ofthese thingys.

It's called a Wilburforce Pendulum. You start the process by pulling on the big weight and of course, being on a spring, it bobs up and down. After a short while the little weights (the little clear disks attached to the metal rods) start spinning round and round. As these little weights start spinning faster and faster the big weight bobs less and less, then it stops altogether for a moment while the little weights spin like mad. Then the big weight starts bobbing again (without further human intervention), and the weights spin less and less until it's back to all bobbing and no spinning. The it does it all over again for quite some time. More or less, it's like a really weird coupled pendulum. I haven't been able to figure out if it's generated by a wave or not, though - if it is, I don't know what kind of wave it would be.

So anyway, just thought I'd let everyone know that . . .

I'm having more fun than you are!
HA!

Lots of love,
Em

We started to think about leaving when . . .

. . . it got to lookin' like this.

This photo was taken by a resident of Santa Paula, along the 150 (the highway that goes past our campus) on Saturday evening.

Then, when it got to looking like this, at about 10:30,

the fire chief said, "You might want to evacuate the students."
and our dean said, "We're getting 'em out of here."

So all 350 of us ended up at a Red Cross evacuation post in Saticoy, watching this

creep over the mountain side.

I have to say that really wasn't very fun.

The faculty and staff took groups of students to their homes.
In the end, only about 30 or so students had to sleep on the Red Cross cots.
I went to stay with Mr. B and family - they were very kind to take in 10 students like that, especially when four of them showed up at
2:30 a.m.

Although, I must say I do wish they didn't have quite so many cats.
*Ah-choo!*

It's now noon on Monday, and we've been officially un-evacuated.
The campus is fine.
There's still smoke, but I hear they have the fire under control.

And I tell you WHAT - I sure hope so.

So, yes, I've experienced yet another natural disaster.
I'm getting quite a list:
tornadoes (three of them, to be specific), floods (two of them),
an earthquake (it wasn't big enough for me to feel it, though, dag nab it), and now, fires.
Next year I'm probably going to gain hurricanes, too.
Horray for life-endangering disasters!
NOT.

Lots of love to everyone!
Please pray we stay put this time.

Em

I have . . .

. . . well, something turned in. It's not much, but it's something.

A strange occurence: I conversationally explained my general thesis topic to my laboratory tutor, Mr. W, this morning, and he came up with a whole bunch of info adressing exactly what I wanted to ask. -?- I think I underrated this astro-physicist of mine. He had a lot of great points, and gave me a copy of his notes from way back when, which outlined much more clearly what question it is, primarily, that I need to ask and also how I need to go about answering it. I'm getting close to forgiving him for his smart comments about my math skills or, well, the lack thereof. He's almost got himself back to a zero on the score card. I'd still put him at about a -2, but I'd say he's working his way up pretty quick.


In the meantime, I need to read Faust like mad.

Lots of love to everyone - especially you, darling. It's less than three months now!
Em

still stressed . . .

Feeling a little bit like this pooch.

This could be a looooong night, at this rate.
Why does everything always happen at once?

In Christ,
Emmers

P.S.This is happenning very close to us.
Do say a few prayers - evacuating sounds like such a pain.

Exhausting week so far

I apologize for neglecting my blog, but my thesis proposal is due a week from yesterday and I still have only vague ideas of what I'm going to do! I'll write when things settle down a bit.

Lots of love to everybody,
Em

The Maxim

Mr. R. said something very interesting this week:

NEVER AFFIRM, SELDOM DENY, ALWAYS DISTINGUISH.

Evidently it's a well-known T.A.C. tutor maxim. I've never heard it (or at least never fully registered it) until this year. It explains a lot about these men who form my mind . . . especially as regards Mr. R., my freshman philosophy tutor.

*Flashback to my first Don Rag*

Mr. R.: "Miss H. is a very interesting girl. Although she is wrong more often than anyone else in her class, I admire her ability to speak up no matter how serious her state of error of confusion may be. Really - I mean that as a compliment! Most people would not have that kind of persistence."

Now, Mr. R. did also say that my confusion had decreased since the dawn of Aristotle (up to that point we had been reading Plato, who I neither understood nor cared for), and he said that if I were going to be confused on philosophy it was better to be confused on Plato, so I didn't end up crying in the end. But, somehow, I still had a hard time taking the "Miss H. is wrong more often than anyone else in her class . . . " comment as a flattering statement. :)

Nevertheless, I think I'm going to needlepoint this maxim onto a pillow for our couch.
It's a good conversation starter, no?

This week has been fairly difficult for me. I've had a capability to focus ranking at about -20 (if any presumptious classmate wants to argue in my comments about the existence of negative numbers in act I want to warn them: I know where you sleep - every last one of you.), thinking of the future and how wonderful it will be. On top of that ititial distraction I've been trying to read Kant - an author I've never been able to understand while I was reading him. (Fortunately Mr. O. understood him, though, and explained him in seminar so that I won't die from a heart attack during my seminar final. I can just see Mr. S. looking down on my dead body with intellectual disgust. *shiver* How can someone be so cute and yet so, so . . . cruel?).

Then, while I was grappling with the Kant reading I took a break to go visit my thesis advisor, Mr. B., who handed me a pile of reading on Husserl. "Noooooooo!!!!" Okay - I must say writing a thesis arguing against an author whom the tutors claim they don't understand at all (and who I'm not even slated to read for seminar until after my thesis is DUE)- - this is not a happy state of affairs. I'll read the material but I think I'm going to suggest an alternative approach to my thesis. I'm supported in this by Mr. W., my academic advisor, who was very practical and helpful on the matter, thank goodness. With Mr. W., as my practical guide and Mr. B. as my think-tank things are looking up . . . I think. . . . maybe . . .

I'm going to have to read a pile of thesis research material, Kant, and Emma this weekend, while also getting together a group for the L.O.M. curia meeting, and helping my class with the Sr./Freshman Beach Party and Dance.

I hope I survive, that's all I can say.

Much love to everyone. Hope everything is going well.
My love, I will call you SOON - honest.

Emily

I really want . . .

. . . this dress.

I'm having a hard time thinking up how exactly I'm going to get it made, though.

*Sigh*
Oh, the burdens of the bride.

Much love
Emily

This morning I addressed an inquiry to my newly engaged classmate, Mary, concerning her plans for the future. It turns out that her fiance is hoping to be accepted to the same graduate program that my fiance is currently enrolled in. So, it seems that my fiance and I will probably be living in the same tiny little town, quite likely in the same block . . . heck, possibly even in the same apartment building, with two of my current classmates for the next six years. Mary and I will probably even have children at about the same time, if all goes well biologically.

!

That is weird.
This getting older thing is just plain freaky.

And I'm not the only one who thinks so, either.

Last night a girl in my dorm yells from the upstairs commons, "Emily! Do you know that this time next year you could be pregnant?!?!"

Now, see, this whole intra-class engagement thing has made everyone freak out.
Of course I'd thought of that. Does that notion unsettle me? Well, yes, a little, but not in a bad way. I am quite conscious of the realistic possibility, and I'm very much hoping for it, in fact. This reality had not occurred to this girl yet, though, and she seemed rather shaken, the poor thing. It's time for another big change, and that can be frightening for everyone.

And now for something completely different:

I received some good news from my thesis advisor today - he's been talking to Mr. N and Mr. P about my thesis and they have a bunch of stuff they want me to read. All I did was ask Mr. B to be my advisor and here I am, the lucky possessor of a whole thesis committee. This is a good thing - - especially since those two other tutors are likely candidates to end up on my defense board. If they have a hand in the formation of my thesis they are going to be much less likely to complain. :)

Well, anyhoo, I need to go study.
Big hugs to everyone (especially you, my love),

Emily

Engagements

. . . have officially begun.

The members of my class have started proposing to one another.
There have been two other members of my class engaged before now (including me), but the men involved in those engagements were graduates - not seniors.
Last night the first senior-to-senior proposal took place, and was accepted.

So, it's congrats to Mary and Paul.
It's a prefectorial alliance (like that's never happened before).

There was FAR too much screaming and hollering for my taste, though. An engagement is so personal - I was more inclined to let people notice by chance, one at a time. Well, that and I don't think it's very nice to make anyone think you might be flaunting it. I don't think anyone is actually doing that right now, but I know that sensitive young ladies who really want to be married will take it that way. I tried to be extra considerate of them.

I've been so blessed.
A prayer of thanksgiving is the only appropriate celebration for such a thing.

I cannot believe we're getting so freakishly old.
*sigh*

There are SO many things to post about.
I'll have to post again later.

Much love to you all
Em

Place: the final frontier

"Where are you?"
That's an easily answered question, isn't it?

"What is place?"
Uuuh, huh - you go ahead and try to answer that question in the same time frame. I dare you.

My section has argued about one paragraph of Aristotle's Physics over and over and over.
As for me, the entire time I was wishing I were someplace else . . . *wink*

Here's hoping your week is off to a good start.

Pax Christi
Emily

War and Peace

. . . was a 'vewy intewesting' novel. Tolstoy was an excellent novelist, although he was a very bad philosopher. Everyone in possession of the commonest sense knows that he has free will.

Many of my classmates and I have decided that this philosophical snafu does nothing but increase our admiration of Tolstoy's talent. For someone to believe in fatalism and still find life interesting enough to observe it and write about it as well as he did is a truly facinating thing.

Some students theorized that Mr. Tolstoy didn't really apply his theory to his characters or his conception of the world: they posited that, perhaps, he just 'thought the mule was pregnant' - didn't quite see the otherwise obvious consequences of his views in his everyday observations of life and community.

I personally don't buy that at all. I can see evidence of his theory in every character of this novel; admittedly, his character developments are far from flat and uninteresting (aspects one would think unavoidable in Tolstoy's theoretical slaves to circumstance) but Tolstoy does clearly state that he believes the mark of humanity to be his capability for deceiving himself into thinking that he has the power of choice. In this right, Tolstoy left most of his characters in a fullness of humanity, with all their self-inflicted deceptions about free will (read: common sense), and the lives he illustrates were, therefore, mostly realistic (albeit his characters were Russians . . . I've come to the conclusion that Russians must think funny, and I'm not Russian).

Another of my classmates stated that he felt betrayed by Tolstoy, who, using his phenomenal talents, had illustrated many diverse and lovable characters, only to show in the end that he had used them as puppets for the proposal of a dark, fatalistic philosophy. I can relate to his frustration - and the more I think it over, the more I suspect that to be true. I don't so much feel betrayed by Tolstoy, though -I pity him; after meeting a certain former-resident-of-Ohio I know that skeptical fatalists can be rather lovable. They have baggage from past experience which inhibits them from seeing what is otherwise evident to carefully nurtured individuals like myself. This particular man frequently shows undeniable signs of wanting to get out of his philosophy-by-default; I'm sure Tolstoy was the same way, at least at some point in his life (even if he was a Russian - I'm telling you those people are strange).

So, Ohio-man, you know who you are - if you're reading this, let me know if you've read this novel or not. I have a strong suspicion that you have.

With much love to all (especially to my second obsession, who might actually be reading this now, being deprived of his previous excuse: "I live your blog - why do I need to read it?"),
Em

I'm back on campus, and I've returned to my studies.

My section is very odd - the tutors (consciously or unconsciously?) loaded it up with all of the most talkative and stubborn people in my class. Surprisingly enough, it has not exploded yet (a consequence I was fully expecting), so I suppose it's possible that we did gain some maturity over these past four years.
I'm still skeptical. We'll see how it rides out over the next couple of weeks.

My tutors seem interesting - I've only had one of them before, and that was in freshman year, so this should be a very fresh set of experiences.

My biggest struggle so far has been trying to cope without my fiance. I've never been here when he wasn't by my side, and it's turning out to be a little rough on me.

Then again, perhaps this turmoil will become less significant after my thesis eats me.


*grin*

Pax Christi sit semper tecum,
Emily

I MUST REMEMBER

That I'm going back to this.

It's worth it - honestly, it is.

*whimper*

Maybe I should print out this photo and keep it in front of me at all times, eh?

But then again, if I just went to Florida and got married I'd be looking at this:

So, maybe I'm going to have to look for something besides the aesthetic to strengthen my resolve.

Like, say, this guy.

Saint Thomas Aquinas, Pray for us.

If self-help books didn't have such a terrible track-record I would buy it now.

Pray for me.

Today has not been my day, and tomorrow's not looking so good either.

Pax Christi

Em

Obsession #2 will be separated from me

by an estimated distance of 2,743 miles

for the next four months.

Considering we have scarcely been separated for an entire week since our courtship began . . . heck, since our friendship began (over 3 years ago) this is going to be a long and difficult time for us both. Fortunately, in December we will be together for three weeks - Christmas break.

After one more separation like this one I will graduate, and we will be married.

There IS a lot of light at the end of this tunnel,

but that still don't make it pleasant

(using my best mid-western grammar).

Please keep us in your prayers.

In the Peace of Christ,

Emily

Isn't this the sweetest baby? Here's hoping our kids look like their daddy. He's just adorable!

I just finished my last night of work at the grocery store in redneckville. Alleluiah!!!!

I'm very tired, and I have to get up kinda early. Goodnight.

Em

Ahhh, Missouri.

I love this state.

What's the name of that song???

Wow - this one has a ton of the old Sesame Street crew in it, and I remember the theme flawlessly. :)

Women and Redecorating

As any reader has noticed, I re-formatted my blog to new layout which is much more pleasing, aesthetically. This has made me very, very happy. I look at my blog a couple times a day, heaving a sigh of deep satisfaction. It's therapeutic.

Now, my inner scrutiny has pointed out that this is a rather odd thing for me to be so happy about. I mean, it's only an image in cyberspace.

But I think I've figured out what it is.

I'm a woman, and a rather romantic one at that. My environment has a heckuva lot to do with my state of mind. Now, although reformatting a blog is not really comparable to redecorating a living room, in a way it's something like it. I've redecorated my blog, and that pleases me a great deal.

I hope Obsession #2 doesn't find this terribly odd. One way he'll always be able to improve my spirits is to help me redecorate a room. ;) Small price to pay for such rewards, no?

Lots of luv to you all,
Em

P.S. - like my lavendar picture? Anyone who knows anything about me knows how much I love the stuff, and why. ;)

On Lethargy

I am a much more entertaining and happy individual when I'm on my little campus, aren't I? I was just reading over some of my old posts and my entries are downright interesting when my mind is forced to be that active . . .

This presents a dilemma. I have one year left on my intellectual health resort and then *boof* - - out I go, into the wide world. I'll be getting married and settling into the society I have to sink or swim in for the rest of my days. . . . Am I really going to lapse into mediocrity for the rest of my life? In the absense of deadlines, assignments, Don Rags, and my tutors am I going to become really, really mundane? I know I get that way when I go home for the summertime. Ahhhh! Noooo!!!! I must save me my mind from such a cruel, slow death! Ahhhh!!!!

*Okay* I'm not panicking. I can keep up an intellectual routine - I can focus my mind on the true, the good and the beautiful. I can do it, I say!

My mother laughs. 'Dirty diapers and grimy kitchen floors leave little room for reading a book, sweetie,' she chides. 'Don't set your heart on it.'

The worst part is that my mother is almost never wrong.

-?!-

Noooo!!!! I still want to remain intellectually active! I don't want to get mentally fat! I can handle getting physically fat - I mean, honestly, I'm already halfway there. Girlish figures are much easier to give up if you scarcely had one in the first place. But please, please, SOMEONE - - tell me that becoming a wife and mother isn't the doom of the rational growth inside my poor little animal self.

*whimper*

Obsession #2 is optimistic, says he thinks it's possible. But - - the word of doom has come forth from the almost-all-knowing oracle at Kitchen Stove.

Comments, anyone?

Pax Christi,

Em

Waffle House, Femininity, et cetera

A co-worker friend recently moved to a very posh sector of Kansas City - it's a certain wasteland of yuppie-dom in Johnson County, Kansas. Locals call it O.P., short for "Over-Priced" . . . or Overland Park . . . whichever - both are true appellations.

My friend has been less than satisfied with his upgrade. His biggest complaint is the complete absense of a Waffle House. I imagine there's some city code against nice people running dingy little time portals to 1975. He comes to chat with me on Saturdays over in redneckville where I work. If I can get off early we go to Waffle House (there are plenty of them over here), and he has some coffee.

We talk about a little of everything. This friendship is a very unusual one for me; over time I came to reject common associations as very likely opportunities for intellectual friendships, since so few people share an interest in truth. This fellow is different - he's a man of goodwill, and insofar as he accepts that there is truth, and recognizes that he is largely ignorant of it (a very Socratic trait), he is a philosopher. We sit in Waffle House and talk about philosophy, history, and society at large. It seems like a most unlikely place for such discussions, but I think that's part of what makes them so memorable.

I've been re-learning old lessons in love this week. Obsession #2 was rather downcast there for a while - he was treated like dirt by a prospective roomate, had two co-workers call in sick on him (leaving him babysitting the fishies for a good chunk of last weekend), and then his new car started smoking. On top of all the normal anxiety about moving out on his own and the general lack of sleep he was ready to snap, . . . and the only thing keeping that from happening was me and a sizeable chunck of e-g-o (of which he has always had a fair allottment).

I had to rediscover through experience some of those little things about womanly support which I had learned by indoctrination from my parents. In some ways the little feminine things are difficult for me - I'm a fighter by nature. When I happen upon these little things to say, and see how beneficial they are, I feel like I've found buried treasure. So, I'm thinking myself pretty accomplished right now. Maybe I'll really be able to do this wife thing pretty well after all. I'm so gol-derned independent sometimes . . . I have my little self-doubts. But I'm going to do my very best, dag nab it, and I guess that's all that really matters.

Well, anyhow, back to the ol' grindstone.

Love to you all,
Em

Little Graces

This summer I have been carrying out phone-answering duties as the part-time secretary in a miniscule parish in northern Kansas City. Normally this only means fielding requests for monetary assistance, but aside from fulfilling that basic need this telephone has afforded me two very beautiful opportunities.

The first call came a couple of weeks ago.

The young woman on the other end of the line informed me that she was a young Catholic engaged to be married to a non-Catholic. Her fiance had expressed a desire to convert to the faith, and she was searching for an R.C.I.A. program which would do more than "meet to talk about their feelings once a week for four months". She said that she saw a unity in faith as very important to happiness in their relationship and their marriage, so she wanted to find a program which would give her fiance knowledge of the faith in a very real way.

Upon continuing the discussion, we discovered we were the same age, and later we also found that we were classmates way back in Catholic gradeschool. Heaven only knows that her experiences in that school did not render her so conscientious about her faith as she had shown herself to be, and I seriously doubt that her highschool education had anything to do with that, either. Nevertheless, keeping this little observation to myself I silently rejoiced that the grace necessary for such a deep appreciation for her Faith had come to her. I wholeheartedly supported her, gave her a list of good Catholic online resources, and told her the number of the parish catechist.

I don't know if the parish I work for has a good program or not. I doubt it, somehow. Nevertheless, I told her to please keep in touch with me if she had any more questions, and to contact the Catholic Faith and Reason Association of Kansas City if she needed questions answered or any need addressed.

I hope I was the right person at the right time. All in the grace of God.

The second phone call came this afternoon.

The woman introduced herself by her first name only. She said she was raised a Catholic, but had converted to Lutheranism a long, long time ago. She told me she had become uncomfortable with some of the things the Lutheran church had been doing lately, and was wondering if she needed permission to come to a mass here at this parish?

I told her absolutely not and she was welcome to return anytime she pleased. She expressed some concern over not being able to follow the service anymore. I asked her when she had left the Church, and she said it was the early to mid sixties. I told her that a lot had changed since then, and that the mass was no longer in Latin like that. I advised her to look up a missal for the Novus Ordo online so that she could follow along more easily, but also assured her that overall it would be much easier for her to understand than it was before.

'Yes, I seem to remember that non-Catholics weren't really encouraged to come to mass when I was young, and even if they did everything was so complicated, and in another language.'

I answered that this was part of the reason for the change that occurred, and that the new mass was much easier for protestant America to understand, since throughout it's structure it is made undeniably evident how much of the mass is Scriptural. She said this was wonderful.

She said that, when she was young, you were always supposed to go to confession before receiving communion. She asked if this were still the case (I was very glad she mentioned this - I was just about to bring it up). I told her that yes, it was, and that one of the reasons for that was so that everyone was well-prepared and fully aware of how beautiful and important it was to receive Christ in Holy Communion. She agreed that this was a very good thing to do, and asked at what times confessions were heard. I informed her of the standard time Father had set aside, and told her she could also call to make an appointment at any time.

As a parting remark, I made sure to tell her that she could call anytime she liked with questions, and pointed her to an online resource where her questions could also be addressed. She said she would love to find somewhere to associate with the Italian Catholics she knew in her youth, and that she would definitely pay a visit here soon.

Thank God for Little Graces.

Pax Christi,
Em

The Swedish Chef Makes Spagetti

One of the best ones I've ever seen!

Muppet Show - Manahmanah

I miss Jim Henson.

Replies Are Overrated

I've heard bloggers complain about lacking replies to their comments. I've recently been reading a blog I would never want to own. This led me to realize that I am very happy with my quiet little blog, which scarcely anybody ever reads. It's more like an open journal than a debate forum, and that's the way I like it.

Strange news of the summer: Obsession #2 is turning out to be a very successful garage saler. He's obtained a set of silver teapots as well as a wooden salad bowl, both of which we'd been hoping to obtain from our wedding registry. This could be a very good talent for a husband to possess, no? :)

As a couple, we've begun the official marriage-prep course thing this week. It's really only a bunch of social hours with a couple of the parish who are also homeschoolers and hosted a high-school literature discussion group for me. So far it's been an enjoyable opportunity to talk to them again. They enjoy good books, good music, and good food. I've always admired them a great deal.

Well, I'd best get back to my data entry.

Pax Christi,
Em

It's raining today, and the heat has finally abated. THANK GOD.

I have been having a heated debate online over NFP and its usefulness.

I have not been as patient as I was hoping I would be. Some people are just SO DUMB.

But an amusing aspect to it:

Obsession #2, after hearing me speak of the debate, visited the site and supported me.

I was extremely delighted with what the anonymous poster had to say about the matter and form of sins. Not for a second did I suspect that it was the man I was going to marry. *giggle* He continues to surprise me, this man I love.

I was sick yesterday. I slept most of the day and all night. Now I have to go back to work. *oh well* - I'm actually not dreading it half so much since the weather has improved so much. Less sweat for me. *YAY!*

Will post more when I have something more interesting to say.

Em

On Being Indignant

One of my most prominent tendencies is to look at the persistent errors of others as a personal affront. I might also add that Obsession #2 has the same difficulty - occasionally to a much greater degree, depending on the error and the erring.

The question is whether this stems more from virtue or from vice. Some would say it comes from a self-rightousness or a perfectionism, and in a way I can see why someone might say that, but more often than not I think it stems from zeal for the truth, and a personal connection with it.

"How dare you insult Veritas with your arrogant insistence upon (given issue)! Off with your head, heretical swine!"

I mean, really, there's a lot to be said for that kind of reaction.

But then again patience more often accomplishes the ends of the Holy Spirit. A response with gusto and personal involvement doesn't really inspire the opening of someone's ears. Perhaps the warring spirit is overall a good inclination which, when directed at poor ignorant humanity, is not always the greatest attainable good? I mean, the saints occasionally used very strong language with people - truly, it has it's place. Although, it seems to me that it belongs to that classification of things which should be used more sparingly. Lies are the enemies of God, but in reality it's not the humans who orchestrated them. All of us have a natural desire to know and love God. Therefore, erring individuals should be treated as beloved but confused siblings, not as pernicious demons (no matter how strong the inclination is to think of them as such).

Now that I've explained that to myself . . . I suppose I really should try to remember it the next time someone says, "NFP is just Catholic contraception." or "Pope John Paul II tried to annihilate the Church." or "Our current bishop is such a (insert the favorite phrases of a certain uncouth and sacreligious relative)". . . .

Oh yes, I will want to do this.

But I will restrain myself. Really, I will do my very best. Honest. . .

. . . Now, come on. Why are you looking at me like that? Don't think I can't see that look on your face. You know what - you're really not helping my resolve. Can't you just pretend you believe me? Sheesh. You know what? If I can't do it I'm blaming you, okay?

Now to stop being so lame . . .

Yes, I realize I've been posting poems and videos. Yes, I admit, that is actually pretty lame of me. But hey, give me a break, I'm working 55 hours a week, okay? I'm tired.

So, my life lately . . . come to think of it it's been pretty lame, too. The environment provided by my more time-consuming job is both tiring and demoralizing. I've been working at this same grocery store every summer since I was seventeen, and honestly I'm very grateful to them for always accepting me back every year, but I must admit the night-time clientele is about to do me in. Our store is located right smack in redneckville, and to be quite honest the mental state of our too-often-enebriated consumers is truly a staggering thing. It's been worse this year - probably because I'm working (exclusively) the 4:30-11:30 shift.

The most irritating customers this summer have been the wimpy mothers who want me to hide things from their kids so they don't have to buy them. They won't tell the kids "No", but would rather say, "The lady at the grocery store must have forgotten it.". They slip up to me in line and point to a couple things on the belt, saying softly "Please take that and put it back later. I don't want it. Just don't let the kids see you take it." Now, not only are they teaching them that lying is okay (because honestly I don't think all of these kids are stupid enough not to know what's really going on) but they're forcing me to abet their wimpy parenting. I want to scream at them "The ends don't justify the means!" and turn to little Billy, saying, "Here sweety, have all the sodium-filled Batman-theme soup you want - at least until your Mommy learns to stop being such a wimpy parent." I'm just dying to give these people a piece of my mind. Honestly, if it happens again before the summer is out I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself.

Okay, enough complaining. What I'm getting is dough, and dough is something I'm really going to need. So at least the dough fetching is getting accomplished.

Pray for the wedding plans. They aren't getting accomplished. I already said I was going to stop complaining, so please note that was NOT a complaint. Just a prayer request. It's different.

So, anyway, I need to go work some more. Be sure to look for more entertaining entries on the highly unentralling summer "vacation" I am in. ;)

Much luv' to you all, as always,
Emily

Monty Python - International Philosophy

I love this video. Down with the Germans!

Heeeeeere Fishy Fishy Fishy

I watched this video when I was eight months old. Mother tells me that I would sit up in the teeter-totter way of infants and almost fall over giggling when Ernie said "Heeeeere Fishy Fishy Fishy!!!!"

Flaming June

by Sir Frederic Leighton

____________

Another Way of Love

June was not over

Though past the fall,

And the best of her roses

Had yet to blow,

When a man I know

(But shall not discover,

Since ears are dull,

And time discloses),

Turned him and said with a man's true air,

Half sighting a smile in a yawn, as 'twere, --

"If I tire of your June, will she greatly care?"

Well, dear, in-doors with you!

True! Serene deadness

Tries a man's temper.

What's in the blossom

June wears on her bosom?

Can it clear scores with you?

Sweetness and redness.

_Eadem semper!_

Go, let me care for it greatly or slightly!

If June mend her bower now,

your hand left unsightly

By plucking the roses, --

my June will do rightly.

And after, for pastime,

If June be refulgent

With flowers in completeness,

All petals, no prickles,

Delicious as trickles

Of wine poured at mass-time, --

And choose One indulgent

To redness and sweetness:

Or if, with experience of man and of spider,

June use my June-lightning, the strong insect-ridder,

And stop the fresh film-work, --

why, June will consider.

-Robert Browning

Summer

I'm so sorry I've neglected posting, but I've been busy trying to find a job (and failing). I mean, a new job. I've got my old job back -the grocery store . . . *beek* . . . *beek* . . . *beek* . . . . I was trying to find something that 1. was closer to Grandpa (he could use some help around the house) or 2. paid better and gave me more experience. So far nothing has turned up and I'm not sure if I have the energy to worry over it anyway. Blah.

Is life really as banal as it sometimes seems for everyone in the outside world? I was wondering tonight at work how often people acted nobly in the daily grind of popular culture. As I rang up the upteenth order of Marlboros with a 30-can pack of Bud Light, standing amongst the tabloids with screaming headlines about soap operas and the even more pathetic stories of celebrity dramas, I was struck with the feeling of lonely summertime depression.

A young woman came through my line the other day: she was five or six years my senior - tops. She had a 14 month old baby in the basket of the cart, and despite being a little grimy and dressed in a rather dirty pair of footie pajamas the baby was very beautiful - he had big blue eyes, bright blonde curls and a beautiful smile. He was standing up precariously in the cart, stumbling about because Mom wasn't paying any attention to him - she was on her cell phone. When she finally hung up towards the end of the order, she next lady in line asked her how old the baby was, and she had to pause for some time and count before she could recall his age. She said he was a handful, especially when with his three-year old sister. "Well, you have quite a handful there . . " says the other lady in line. "Oh, yeah, and TWINS on the way!", said the young woman. "That's wonderful!" I said. Nobody listened. The next lady in line was looking at the young woman like she was crazy - "How did that happen?" she asked. With a tone of agreement that it was insane the young woman replied. "We took a trip to Disneyland. That's the last time we take a vacation!" she laughed. After the young woman the next lady in line kept saying how terrible that was as I was ringing up her order. "My mother had twins - they're adorable." I said to her. "Yeah, as long as you're not the one who has them!", she said. "I think my mother would disagree." I replied, "They were actually much easier to deal with in some ways - the breastfeeding was a challenge but as they got older they kept one another company, and they never cried when left with a caretaker since they had one another. I have a good chance of having twins, too, and although it scares me a bit, I don't think it's terrible." The woman did not reply to this at all, nor to my "Have a nice day." at the end of the order.

So, twins are terrible, but watching soap operas and keeping yourself posted on Angelina and Brad is enthralling? How banal these people's lives bust be.

So anyway, that's my reflection for the day. I'm using up precious dial-up minutes. ;)

Pax Christi,
Emily

More Thoughts

The Great Books Authors win can win the trust of conscientious intellectuals in two ways: the first being through the self-evident truth of their principles, the second being through the sound methods of their logic. If either of these elements are admirable the author in question ought to be given fully fair hearing and attention by respectable intellectuals, even if the author's conclusions are difficult and/or repulsive to your own opinions.
Conversely, if both of these elements are evidently absurd, the committment of the reader to some attempt at understanding the author's arguments ought to be less rigourous. If too much credit is given to an author when he is evidently wrong, one will end by becoming confused and befuddled - and here at T.A.C. you may end up dead, because chances are, your section won't want to spend a lot of time being vehemently generous to blatant idiots.
Now, we read very few works by blatant idiots in this program. Occasionally, in the junior and senior year years, the authors we read are brilliant in some areas and quite obviously nuts in others. Such as Galileo, who discovers the inverse square law, but then he thinks that the infinite can be actual. The former is that of law of gravitational force - really an amazing discovery, much to Galileo's credit. The latter is a principle which is evidently false, and his arguments to support it are completely illogical (they just reek of sophistry). Mr. B's helpful advice to us concerning this issue was, 'Don't distress yourselves over not being able to understand him! He's irrational. Sin is also irrational - there's no good reason for doing it. Similarly, this is irrational and there's no good reason for thinking it.'
Now, of late, we've had some violent debates on this "Due Process of Investigation" thing, in two of our classes.
First of all, some people seem to think that Aristotle is not due a fair hearing in his discourses on politics. In fact, someone very influential seems to think it's okay to give crazy examples displaying types of morally repugnant behavior which she wants to suggest (but never prove, just suggest) fall from an acceptance of what Aristotle argues about citizenship and leisure. Now, with all due respect, Aristotle is painfully logical, in everything he does. Not to mention, we already accept all the principles he claims for proof (as they are taken from his work on ethics). So, naturally, I'm having a hard time restraining myself from socking this influential individual in the shnooker.
Second, we're reading an essay by one of those rare, completely insane authors in Music class: a certain atonal composer by the name of Webern. Now, we never accepted any of Webern's principles - for instance, that repetition is the key to comprehensibility in music, or that music is natural law ('law' taken in the modern, Newtonian sense - something which we observe as necessary and regular behavior of some thing. It's not St. Thomas' natural law, which is some law that regulates our behavior by inborn principles. Webern's music is supposedly shaken out of us by some natural, irresistible urge) according to the sense of sound. These are absurd principles to start an argument from - and moreover, Webern's syllogisms don't follow, he equivocates all over the place, and his grammar is horrible. Now, after these results are found by fair investigation, there comes that point where it would be folly not to admit that he was both disordered and stupid. Mind you, Christian charity constrains us to love him as a human being - but it does not require us to say he's a genius. Some people in the section seem to think that the rest of us are being unfair in coming to what should be a rather obvious conclusion - namely, that this guy is irrational - and probably more so than Galileo. *sigh*
So, that's been my week. Hope all the rest of you are fine and well.
Much luv,
from ME

a small note from the person who supposedly posts on this blogsite

http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=D038AAC15A378E6E

It's amazing how much I remember from my childhood television experiences. Fortunately, Sesame Street wasn't a bad thing to soak up, overall. I can remember every clip on this list, down to the tiny little noises in the background.

WEIRD.

Luv to ya'll.
-ME

" Aristotle with A Bust of Homer" - Rembrandt

So, yeah, I'm an Aristotelian. So what? He's yet to abuse my intelligence by seriously asking me to believe principles which would require me to abandon my common sense. Not to mention the fact that St. Thomas accepted his proofs, and we all know how cool he is.

Ne'ertheless, I think I really need to stop being paranoid about my seminar readings.

I've approached the readings of junior seminar with not a little trepidation; my kneejerk reaction to the moderns has been a certain reserve, arising out of some need to save my philosophical backside from the corrupting influences of the psychotic moderns. It's like I keep thinking whatever disease they had might be catching (oops - that's a midwestern phrase. I apologize. Translation: to " . . . be catching . . .", or " . . . be catchin' . . . " = to be contagious).

I went and spoke with the Dean today on this issue, as I didn't know whether these fears were based on real or imaginary concerns, and I wanted to ascertain if such reservations were going to be damaging to my thesis research. What I gathered from the conversation is that my observation of error in the first principles of the moderns is what I am supposed to see, and that those rejected first principles can be simply observed in order to see the conclusions that follow from their admission. In other words, due attention to the consequences of error is hardly going to corrupt my soul. Also, I really should trust the program more - they're not giving me anything I can't philosophically handle.

It's true that every year I grow in trust for this college - they are teachers truly worthy of forming my mind. It's amazing the way they've organized everything - it's organized perfectly towards my being able to build a proper philosophical system for myself. This is truly an amazing place.

Pax Christi,

Em

This is where I sit, when I post. Inside this here building. ^

This week has been interesting. Once again, Monday and Tuesday were rough. They always are. Kant is absurdly difficult to digest, Newton is trying to murder my mind, and I would love to like Leibniz but everyone keeps telling me he was wrong. *pout* I like the assignable lines, dag gum it. I find ratios easier to comprehend when they actually exist.

Thesis defences began this week. I've attended two so far, and they both passed, thank goodness. Both seniors were exceedingly nervous, but they passed. :) Greg's is tomorrow, as is Pat's . . . I'll be going to both, I think.

And I think to myself - I only have one more year!! NOOOOOOO!!!!

I spoke to my little brother today. He went to a St. Patrick's Day roller skating party last Friday, evidently. He was telling me that he took six quarters and played video games (which are, and always have been, banned in our home) .

"There were aliens and big ugly spiders and bleeding alien parts all over the place when you blew them to pieces with your gun!!! *Manic laughter*" said Graham

. . . . "Bleeding alien parts . . . " said I, (more Manic laugher from Graham) " . . . um, Graham, did Momma know you were playing this game?"

"Uh, yeah, but . . . well, she didn't seem too happy but she didn't tell me not to."

Mom says the game was scarcely above pac-man graphics, so she figured it was okay. Bad graphics = morally acceptable. Tee hee, kinda strange requirements, but then again it seems like a pretty good rationale. ;) Just as long as they stay at the skating rink. Too many young men here at school sit in front of computer screens until all hours of the night. Working on papers? NO, not at all - but, rather, playing computer games, which suck their brains out of their heads through their eyeballs. So yeah, seems to me like a pretty bad habit to get into.

So, yeah, have a good rest of the week. I'm going to go print some spine-labels.

-ME

Random Thoughts

Have you ever felt the need to open the window in the car - not because of carsickness, nor because of fouled air - not because the music is so unsavory you want to drown it out with road noise, nor because someone is taking a smoking break (alas!) in the presence of your delicate and valued lungs -- but because the world is so beautiful you just can't stand to watch it go by on the other side of a glass panel? Have you ever had the need to roll down the window just because you didn't want to participate in sensing the world through such an irreligious and man-made medium? Or am I just weird like that?

My section was glad to find out (from good ol' St. Thomas) that our participation in the beatific vision will not be determined by our natural intellectual capabilities, but by our love and desire for God (charity). A certain loveable blonde member of my section said, "Now, that's really a big relief, right? I mean, . . . hey, now, why is that so funny when I say it?"

I don't think I've ever written about them here, but Obsession #2 and I teach a 4th grade CCD class on Sunday mornings in a nearby town. We've been teaching our 6 little munchkins how to say the rosary this semester.

Now, on a general note, this whole year has been a wonderful experience - kids at this age are especially facinating, as are past the age of reason, and far enough past it that they are familiar with the use of rationality, but at the same time they're not old enough to have had those faculties abused into skepticism by the educational system. Plus, we have a wide diversity of talents and capabilities among the children. We have one little girl who has a lot of natural depth; she asks amazingly deep philosophical and theological questions while retaining every answer we give and relating them all to one another. Her capabilities are just breathtaking. We had a little boy last semester (whose mother, we suspect, didn't like him to learn anything but coloring-book Catholicism and therefore pulled him out) who was extremely perceptive and bright. There's also a pretty little blue-eyed girl who seems naturally gentle and pious - she's been the most heartbreaking one, in a way, since it's not so much the power of her mind but of her heart that is exceptional, and she has a natural instinct towards the love of God, but you can tell that she's starting to figure out, on her own, that her parents are not interested in any real religious devotion at all. It's painful for us to see that distress her innocent little soul. Most of the children in our class are put through our course as a kind of formality; the faith is not really lived at home. Few parents realize that the faith isn't something that can or should be taught like geography or math - an hour a week (much less time than is even given to scholastic endeavors) isn't going to do a lot for these children, but my love and I are determined to make it count for as much as possible.

So, the first week in Lent we began the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary (we've been going through each mystery in-depth, reading scripture passages out loud and discussing them in group), and our pious little girl pipes up when we asked if anyone knew what the first Sorrowful Mystery was, "Oh, yes, I know that one - for a long time I didn't know what "agony" meant - I thought it was 'The Acne in the Garden' and that just didn't make any sense!"

More later - - -

Love to you all!!!!
Emily

So this week has been . . .

pretty bad. I think Issac Newton should've been arrested for his methods of not proving what he claims to prove. He's an extremely exasperating person to try and understand; leaving out big chunks out of his proofs, so that all the slavish details of the proof might be assigned to an unfortunate (and increasingly frustrated) posterity. He was a big, nasty meanie - that's what.

On the good news side of things, Obsession #2 found out that he's admitted into a graduate program in Florida. He's extremely relieved, and I'm happy I'm going to be living in Florida in a year,

(See Aerial Tour of the Ave Maria's Permanent Campus -http://www.naples.avemaria.edu/This_is_ave_maria/video.asp, and updated info at http://www.avemaria.com/)

instead of Austria,
(See explanation of residence - http://www.iti.ac.at/about/about_campus.htm and pictures at http://www.kartause-gaming.at/)

Now, why, you ask, would you be so excited about living on a campus built on a Florida swamp? Especially when it may have been possible for you to live in a stunningly beautiful hotel in such a charming part of Europe?

Two to four times a year, a $1,000 to $2,000+ flight? And that's only for two of us. There's sure to be 3+ by the end.

I think not.

Not to mention the fact that there would be no relatives and no way for them to visit me practically.

I'll take the American swamp, thank you. :)

And wow, having checked out the second link for the swamp above it hardly looks like we're going to be slummin'. Niiiiiice, huh? These are artist's sketches - the campus is scheduled to be completed the summer we get married. See interesting news story @ http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,186202,00.html. Great fun!


Anyhow, that's good news. We're very happy. Hopefully, if Obsession #2 can do really well with their graduate studies (which shouldn't be too hard since he's already taken a lot of the courses in-depth here, he takes test exceptionally well and he's already rather proficient in Latin) he'll easily gain admittance to the doctoral program, as well, which looks pretty cool.

I hear I have one former classmate there with her husband already, and they're expecting in the fall. -Weird!-

So many changes, so fast!
Have a blessed weekend!
-Emily