Miss Me?

I've fallen off the blog radar. However, I think I'm going to dive back in to the not so anonymous web.

I'm trying to turn over a new leaf or two and I figure that it may be good to blog again. Even if no one reads this, I know plenty of people are look to change things, accomplish things, or just figure life out. In my opinion, we all are, some people just are lying to themselves and suffering the delusion that they have it all figured out. You know the type I'm talking about, right?

So here it is, my short term to do list:

• Maintain my new workout schedule. I joined this great gym in town that is fantastic. They also pay attention to nutrition and your at home workout routine. So I am going there 3 days a week for a phenomenal training session in a small class setting. I am also going to work out 2 days a week at home.
• I will also start (tomorrow - I know, bad to say, but I'm heading to the movies and dinner with friends so I know popcorn and no-so-healthy dinner options are in my future) to follow a reasonable plan of eating healthy. If you have plant based food ideas to pass along let me know!
• I will work on creating a repertoire of healthy, vegetarian recipes that I can save for meals for work.
• Before next Monday I will mail boxes to my mom with pants I've shortened and a box to a friend in NYC with some special items for her
• By the end of this Monday I will write an article that will actually be put into a national resource for young adult ministry! (Woah!)
• And I will work on my Spanish at least 5 days a week!

Whew! Ambitious, but that's the way I roll. I actually think that I can do this.

May be a bit maudlin today

With everything going on in the world and now being just two weeks from flying to a massive gathering of Catholic youth, I'm in a "prepare for the worst" sort of mood.

As a group leader, I need to prepare contingencies for everything from lost luggage to a massive event of violence or illness. It is not something I enjoy, but I know it is worth while.

In the midst of talking about travel warnings, CDC warnings about measles in Europe, and the inevitable jokes about my clumsiness, I have to say a few things.

Whether I go to meet my maker in 75 years, a couple of weeks, or driving home from work tonight, I am okay with that. I can honestly say I believe I have lived each day as well as I possibly could. I have no regrets. Yes, there are things I hope and plan to do. But my golden years are neither in my past nor my future. Today, just like each today that came before, is a good day.

If I can try to have that same sense of joy and fulfilment each day, then whether I leave this earth in some catastrophe or in the quiet sigh of old age, it will not be a tragedy. It will be grace.

My teenage self would hide in shame. I am a shopping queen. What did I buy that has me so excited? Hold your breath!

A Dirt Devil Scorpion, CLR, two end table/lamp things, and a standing lamp. Actually my parents bought the last one (and the bulbs).

So now I can clean up after my messy eater dog, get rid of the funky stuff in one of the sinks, and more grown-up lighting. It's a good day.

Crowds

I've been thinking a lot about crowds lately. I warn you, I'm about to talk of politics and religion, so just know you've been forewarned.

Every time I have gone to Rome I've had to deal with crowds. The first time was for WYD 2000. There I was so immersed in the crowd that I got lost, completely separated from my group. I was 19 and traveling abroad without supervision for the first time. Glad to say that I didn't panic, but it was intimidating. We were packed like sardines in St. Peter's Square. It was hotter than, well, you know. Banners and flags interrupted your line of sight. The noise was a veritable tower of Babel. And I was simply one small member of the crowd. Never had I fully felt what it meant to be alone in a sea of people.

In 2003 I journeyed to Rome again. This time fully expecting a quiet spring break trip to visit a friend with another friend in tow. One afternoon, two of us were journeying back from an exhausting trek through the city (note: don't walk from central Rome to the catacombs outside the city - it is dangerous and exhausting). When we were nearly in sight of our friend's apartment we heard it. The unmistakable chanting of a crowd displeased with something. As the chants were in Italian, it wasn't until we got closer that we realized they were protesting the United States's decision to head into Iraq. Suddenly we were surrounded by people who were shouting against our government and President. There were flames and angry faces.

Last year I was on the other side of the crowd. I was standing alone in front of thousands gathered in St. Peter's Square. I looked out to see the sea of people and felt the aloneness that comes from knowing you have a responsibility that no one in that crowd could fulfill at that moment.

These experiences resonate so strongly with me now as we head more fully into Holy Week. After facing that hostile crowd protesting our military presence in Iraq, I can understand Peter's fear and denials. After being just a lone voice in a crowd of thousands at WYD, I wonder, would I have kept silent while those around me shouted, "Crucify him!" And after the role I played at the Palm Sunday Mass at St. Peter's last year, I can better appreciate how Pilate viewed the fevered crowd. I am not saying what they did was right. But can we claim to be immune from similar behavior.

After all, over the past weeks we have seen the terrible and great power of crowds to topple regimes. We know that one spark can lead to a wildfire of devastation. We know the power of the virtual crowds that lead to tragedies of smaller proportions courtesy of online bullying and the effects thereof.

So maybe, this Good Friday, if you are listening to the crowds, just remember where you are in the crowd.

One Year

What a difference a year makes!

It has been one liturgical year since I spent the Saturday night before Palm Sunday debating between a dress and dress pants, heels and the more comfortable shoes.

This is rarely an issue for me. At most I may switch a top when I realize it is warmer or colder than anticipated, but generally deciding what to wear on any particular day isn't a major issue.

When one is going to be proclaiming the first reading at the Papal Palm Sunday Mass it becomes an issue quite quickly.

Thus I learned two things:

1. 
   
   Always pack a dress when traveling. (Guys - maybe stick with a suit.)


2. 
   
   There is no such thing as a comfortable pair of heels when you have to stand, walk, and climb cobblestone stairs.

Despite all the potential problems, I managed not to fall, not to mispronounce anything, and generally behave well. All told, a grand success.

I have no laundry...

...at least that is what I'm telling myself.

That mind game will work until I have to go to sleep - my one set of sheets are in the dryer and another load is in the washer. I'm just exhausted. Yet another day off that makes me look forward to my desk tomorrow!

Thank to a thunderstorm that came through around 4 or 4:30 this morning, I had an early start. Nothing like your twit of a dog freaking out to wake you thoroughly up.

It was a good day though. Groceries, post office, library then home. At home it was work out and bake. I made two batches of biscotti for a coworker who has been begging me for them - brownie biscotti and chocolate chip biscotti. I think she'll be happy tomorrow. Then there is the pan of brownies (from scratch of course) and two pans of Dutch butter cake (think more like soft cookie bar than cake). The brownies and Dutch butter cakes are for the informal celebration of our associate pastor's ordination. I think it is also a testament to how we Catholics think you should always serve food at a celebration.

Now that Gracie and I are utterly exhausted, it is time to enjoy a flaky book. I'll get around to that laundry sooner or later.

Oh, the Joys of the Midwest

Currently: 54 degrees, sunny, with a brisk breeze.

Tomorrow evening through Wednesday: Winter storm watch.

Oh, how I love the life of a Midwesterner.

Now all I have to do is deal with my upset stomach, the dog who needs a bath, and the half done laundry. Just another day in the exciting life I lead!