Good Thing

I went to Confession this afternoon.

Cause I already have to go again.

YAY!  GO SIN!

Have you ever felt

that you were being judged on your reaction/non-reaction/answer to a statement/question and you failed it.    Except you didn't know you were being judged in the first place...

Priceless

Assorted Dry Sacks:  $28.99
Snacks and Soda: $50
Gas to get there and back: $150
Discovering the lake empty:  priceless

After months of begging, pleading, cajoling, promises, well you get the picture, I finally convinced Paddling Buddy to go to Big Oak Tree State Park to canoe.  After a 2.5 hour drive, we get there only to discover the lake was empty.

I can't imagine

Why the Vatican Smacked the LCWR...

Eagles!!!!

Wildlife photographer, I am not...

Turtle or Not Turtle....

The Best $2.95 I ever spent

This makes Hiking Buddy so happy!

Journey or Destination

Yesterday, Photo/Hiking/Adventure Buddy (soon to be paddling buddy!) and I went on an adventure.  Adventure itinerary is forthcoming.  For this adventure, I demanded that Buddy plan the adventure.  Our ultimate goal was to get to Canton MO.  Our other goal was to get to Quincy IL.  We got there at 8 pm, a little too dark to look at parks in such.  We never made it.

Buddy and I had agreed to go up MO 79, a meandering state highway that parallels the river.  My thoughts were that we would go up straight to Point A, B and C.  Buddy was like well lets go to here and then here and you know here.  There were cases where we both saw something and were like we have to stop! (Lovers' Leap comes to mind...how could you not stop on an adventure with a name like that?)

For some reason, I thought of the scene in Cars where Sally talks about how Radiator Springs came to be in the state it was in.  In the old days, cars drove on the road to have a great time, not to make great time.  I then had an epiphany.

I realized for Buddy, the adventure was the journey, while for me, it was the destination.  Had I been in charge of planning, we would have missed all sorts of stuff, but with Buddy in charge, we had fun on the journey and it didn't matter that we didn't make it Canton, ride the ferry or get apple cider.

It was all about the journey. :)

Thinks...

it might be time for a bigger cooler.
I have 3 jammed full little coolers full of drinks.  And a fourth filled with candy....

or I could just take less stuff....

Adventure is out there pt 1

I hereby declare Wednesday Adventure Day! No adventure is complete without homemade goodies!

St. George Images

Depictions of St. George taken at St. George in Affton.

Frogs!

On Friday, Missouri Department of Conservation had an Amphibian Night!

What is not to love:  frogs, salamanders, rain, cold, mud and dark night?  Little kids asking how a male and female frog connect?  Bwahahaha.   Sliding in the mud maybe...wrecking my leg maybe but much much fun!

Here's some pics of frogs and tadpoles:

This is a mass of eggs.

It's all jelly like.

The state herpatologist grabbed this guy.

I was amazed.

I saw this guy in the pond.

TADPOLES!

Tadpoles!

I'm going blonde

...not gray.

Hiking Buddy and I were going on an adventure on Friday night involving frogs.  It was cold and rainy.

Hiking Buddy:  Do you think the hike will still happen?
Me:  Think so.  It said dress for the weather.  I'm more concerned the frogs won't like the water and that it is too wet out.
awkward silence
Me:  I didn't just say that did I?
Hiking Buddy:  I still respect you and value you.
Me:  gee thanks.

Bones

Movie Buddy and I watched a very serious movie last night.  Serious movies call for manly, serious drinks.  I left the Loopy Vodka at home and brought the Port, a manly drink.

After drinking the equivalent of a bottle of said manly drink, I had to you know....  At the best of times, Movie Buddy's couch tries to eat me.  When I'm slightly (or more) impaired, it's a struggle.  Movie Buddy gets up to help me.  He holds his hands out to help me and I look at him and say "I don't have any bones."  Then I precede to collapse into giggles.  Movie Buddy just shakes his head and sighs.

Dilbert Quote

Change creates the illusion we have a strategy.

Brr

I work with an outside exhibit.
It's raining.
Guess who doesn't have a raincoat?
Guess who is soaking wet?
Guess who is shivering in her cube?

mmhmm I see

Apparently, female employees in the White House make less then there male counterparts.  A lot less.
Hot Air has the details.

Hope and Change.  Yeah Right.

I'm my mother

RUN!

Last night I was at Movie Buddy's house.  I had left some juice and milk and ice cream there on Saturday.  I'm pretty sure I told him he could drink and eat it.  (I only get miffed when he eats the ice cream I haven't tasted yet...unless it is specifically for him.  like coffee.)   It was Wednesday.  I opened is fridge to get juice and it was gone!  and I was shocked!  It was fine but I was still shocked.  Where did it go?

I realized this morning it has to do with my mom.  We buy food but we are not allowed to use or she doesn't seem to realize that once you use it, there is no more.  She will go to the cabinet and say i could have sworn we had X.  I'm like we used it 2 weeks ago or what have you.  She's like why would we do that?

Yes.  You get food to look at it so you can say you have a full pantry.  Not to actually eat it or anything.

It is amazing and rather frightening sometimes to see how one's family influences them.

Passion

Yesterday, I had the bright idea to get up really early and go to the Garden before work to take pictures of irises.  This would involve me getting up at 6:30 am to get there by 7 am because I would need to leave the Garden by 8 am.

I was up at 6:20 am.  I was exhausted.  I just couldn't get up.  I just couldn't do it and I couldn't drum up enough enthusiasm to overcome the exhaustion.

I was reading Fr. Martin's facebook feed and he was talking about some 3 questions he was asked.  One was about passion.  As I was being cranky with myself I thought about it.  I hate it when people ask me what I'm passionate about. I'm not really passionate about anything.

Maybe that's the root problem.

I think back

to when I was 19-20.  I don't remember what the tipping point was, but from point moment on, I decided that I was not going to get married and that was the end of it.  It may have been because I had been reading about something for class and discovered that my chances of repeating the behavior I was subjected to growing up were sky high.  It may have been because I was already so old and had never been asked out.  It may have been finding out that it was going to be very difficult if not impossible for me to have children.  I was still pretty indoctrinated as a Catholic at that age.  Marriage was for having babies.  Since I wasn't going to be able to have them, what man would want me?  What kind of a man would he be if he didn't want kids?

I didn't need a man.  Maybe I didn't even like them.  Yeah.  I don't need a guy to be happy.  Men are all scum anyway.  (Please keep in mind that I went to an all girls high school...)

I was going to be an independent woman.  I didn't need any body.

And life went on.

And now I'm 15 years older.

I came home to an empty house.  There's no one to greet me.  No one to care if I even make it home from work.  I forgot to go to the store to get something to eat so I'm scrounging and thinking maybe I shouldn't even bother.  There's no one else to cook for.

This is my life.

I'm sitting here trying to decide where I'm going to mope.

This is my life.  How did it come to this?  I know how it came to this.  It was my own stupid fault.  Thinking I was made for better things.  Thinking that I could do something meaningful with my life.  Thinking that tomorrow would be better.

But tomorrow's not going to be better.  It's just going to be more of the same.

Can I get anymore depressed?

Why yes, I can.
I have to get a swimsuit.

Why

does everything I love leave me?

my life is so empty and meaningless.  There's nothing.

Handle Me With Care

Missing the Point, Am I...

Imagine my surprise when I saw this on my facebook feed.  There's a boycott of Electronic Arts in the works over including a gay romance option in one of their video games and of course the counter boycott.

I'm sorry.  WHAT?  Why is there romance in my video game?  I'm thinking to the hundreds of articles I read for my dissertation on gaming.  I don't recall romance ever being mentioned.  Blowing stuff up, beating challenges, having fun with friends.  I recall all that.  I don't recall kissing and romance.

Why would you play a video game with romance in it?  I mean most video game players are male.  Unless it is a step to video game porn.

I'm going to boycott!  Boycott all video games with kissing and romance!

TCGSGSY - Chapter 2

I've read Chapter 2 of The Catholic Girl's Survival Guide for the Single Years.  It radically depressed me. Just thinking about it really sends me into tears.

The chapter is about what it means to be authentically feminine.  I'm not sure the author ever actually defines authentic femininity.  She seems to define around it and then is like it's being your authentic self.  It seems like her answer is wishy washy and relative.

Being authentically feminine is being our true selves, the self God made us to be and becoming that woman.  I'm thinking about this.  What if I don't like the woman God wants me to be?  What if God wants me to be all girly?  I hate that.  I hate it when I'm girly.  Maybe the problem is I don't know what authentic girlyness is and I'm going off what culture says it is.  And that is just not me.

In the chapter, she says there are three truths but only explicitly names 2.  The first is that "Men and women are the desired and beloved of God."  The second is "All is gift.  All is grace."  I'm not sure that desired is the word I want to use.  I'm alternately creeped out and sad.  Creeped out because God is some old guy.  Ok.  He's depicted as an old guy.  And that's just creepy when old old men desire young women.  Course I'm getting rapidly older...so that creepy factor may lesson.  I'm sad because no one really desires me.  Why would God?

The auther then goes on to talk about how women have a mother's soul.  We are called to be mothers, always in spirit and sometimes in body.  It's about being beautiful, receptive and nurturing.  I'm not very motherly.  I'm impatient.  I'm quick to anger.  I'm cruel. I am not nurturing.  It's horrible really.  When I try to be supportive and nurturing, it's usually the opposite.  I try to be nice and it just fails for me.  I'm not beautiful.  I can't even hardly look in a mirror, I'm so not beautiful.

The chapter then goes into "The Lesson Plan" which presents 10 different lessons for authentic femininity.  Lesson 5 is to endure.  She recommends nagging God.  Well, guys don't like to be nagged so I've been told.  God's a guy.  I'm guessing He's not going to like it either.

I think it was Lesson 10:  Learn to Look Lovely that pushed me over the edge.  I'm not lovely.  I'm not going to ever look lovely.  I can't have authentic femininity if I don't look lovely.  I don't know the first thing about being lovely.  I suppose I need all new clothes, but I can't stand looking at myself in the mirror.  I have no idea what looks good on me and what doesn't.  It's like I've missed some crucial girl lessons.

For women, it's always about the looks isn't it?

It wouldn't be a holiday

if there wasn't an argument of some kind.

sigh.

Can We Turn Around?

Hiking Buddy and I really wanted to go on a full moon hike at Shaw Nature Reserve.  But getting a spot involves luck, speed and timing.  We decided to go on our own full moon hike.

On New Year's Eve, we went hiking at night at Weldon Spring Conservation Area on the Lost Valley Trail.  It was awesome.  It was dark, but there was a full moon so you didn't need a flashlight.  We decided to go back and go the other way on the trail.

We get there and I'm immediately creeped out in the parking lot.  It seemed too dark.  It was oppressive.  I felt like I was being watched.  Hiking Buddy picked up on my unease...probably because I was jittery.  He was like it does seem darker.  Wanting not to be a wuss, or to face my fears, I was like well...it must be because there are leaves on the trees now.  Yeah.  Yeah.  That's it.

Then Hiking Buddy became uneasy.  He's like let's turn around.  Good idea.  Let's.  And we quickly walked back.

The trail just felt wrong.

Good Friday

Uh no

Scene:  Early Morning.  Snup walks into kitchen dressed for work.  Parents around table.


Dad:  Do you have to work today?
Snup:  (to snark or not to snark, that is the question) Uhm yea.
Dad:  It's Good Friday.
Snup:  Uh huh.
Dad:  You should get the day off.
Snup:  thinking:  I haven't had Good Friday off since high school, unless Easter happened to be during Spring Break.  I work for a secular institution.  We aren't closed on Easter.  Why would I get Good Friday off?
Dad:  No one gets any holidays any more.

Pange Lingua

I think the birds tweeting in the background is a prime example of overdoing it.

Gone

Yesterday, Jake's remains were brought home.

He is well and truly gone.  There is no more denying it.

I feel horridly guilty.  I feel like I didn't spend enough time with Jake.  I could have done so much more with him.  I realized yesterday that I had never taken Jake on an Easter Egg Hunt.  I'd never gotten to take him canoeing.  (After the Boathouse incident, that is probably a good thing.)

It is just beginning to sink in how truly alone I am.  and how unloved I am.  Jake loved me unconditionally.  He loved me even more when I had food.

I am so cold inside.

Miserere

Chant

I'd like to listen to some chant appropriate to Holy Week.  It's a shame I don't know any.  All I know is Stabat Mater....

Slightly Smarter

than the average Catholic.

My cousin's sister in law died early Monday morning.  This has lead to all sorts of questions because she's Catholic and it's Holy Week.  I was discussing this with someone about how you are not allowed to have Mass on Friday at all and there is a specific Mass for Thursday and for Saturday.  So there were questions about the funeral.  A memorial service of some kind is allowed but not a funeral Mass.  As I was talking about this with someone, I made the offhand remark that in this archdiocese, you can't get a priest on Holy Thursday morning anyway cause they are all at the Chrism Mass.  The what Mass?  Oh, the Mass where the Archbishop blesses and consecrates the oils for the Sacraments.  There's the oil of the sick, the oil for initiation (the name escapes me) and Chrism.  Chrism is consecrated because it is used to consecrate other things like priests, bishops and churches.  She asked me what was Chrism.  Uh.  oil.  From a tree.  I think.  Where does it come from?  The bishop.....  where does the bishop get it from?  The special chrism store?  She was like is there a sacred grove or something?  Uhm.  Well, let's think.  Jesus was from Jerusalem and the early Church started there.  Then the Church moved to Rome, which is in Italy.  So the oil must come from somewhere around there.  I don't think there is a Chrism Tree...so I don' t know...

Thanks to the magic of Google, I now have an answer.  Chrism is a mix of olive and balsam oil. :)

The Catholic Girl's Guide to Survival Guide for the Single Years Ch.1

For some reason, I ordered the Catholic Girl's Survival Guide for the Single Years.  Apparently I'm a masochist and like making myself miserable.  I've only made it through the first 2 chapters.  I had to stop because I got so upset over chapter 2.  

So what I'm going to go is discuss the book and my thoughts chapter by chapter.

The first chapter is about vocations.  Yeah, this is a Catholic book alright.  I'm starting to think figuring out your vocation would be a lot easier if God would send a telegram or stamp it on the bottom of your foot what you are supposed to be or if you are supposed to be a religious or not.  I mean, it doesn't have to be specific.  Say you are born with a cross on your foot.  That would mean you were supposed to be a religious.  You'd still have to figure out what order to join and all that jazz.

At the end of the chapter, Stimpson discusses the missed vocation and the walking wounded.  The missed vocation is when you for some reason or another, don't follow the vocation to which you are called.  For instance, I had thought about becoming a religious sister of some type.  Except when I was growing up, the only thing I saw sisters doing was teaching little kids, which I didn't want to do (oh the irony) or nursing, which I would only do out of desperation.  Anyway, a few years ago, before I was too old to join, I thought about becoming a religious.  When I mentioned it to a couple people, they laughed.  Well then.

Stimpson ends the chapter talking about the walking wounded.  These are the people who have either missed their vocation or are so wounded, they can't follow through on their vocation.  I can see that.  I know people who are so damaged psychologically, that I couldn't see how they would be able to be married.  Unless they find someone as damaged as they are....

It was this last section that depressed me the most.  I am the walking wounded. I'm so damaged and have so much baggage, I can't imagine any man wanting to marry me.  Then again, assuming there is a man that is for me.  It dawned me as I was falling asleep that I was born after Roe vs. Wade.  It is entirely possible that the man I was supposed to marry was never even born.

Next up, chapter 2, which sent me into a crying a jag....

Just say no

to beer.

Photo Buddy is on a quest.  A quest to find a beer I'll drink.  He's 0 for 3 tonight.

I think he just likes watching me make faces at the horridness.

Why I get ready the night before

Tonight after work I'm going to go to a fundraiser for the pet food pantry, snag my free ice cream cone and be supportive of Photo Buddy.  I've decided given our time table that I should just bring everything to work and not go home first.

Normally I put everything together the night before.  Because I like getting up at the last possible second.  If I have to gather things then this puts my morning in chaos.  Last night I was too cranky to get my stuff together.  And it wasn't dry.  And I was having issues.

So I gathered it together this morning.  Now I remember why I don't do this in the morning anymore.  I don't know which shirt to wear.  What's the temp going to be?  I'll take them ALLLLLL!!!! bwahahahaha.

Yes.  my overpacking is worse when I'm doing it at the last minute.

Now I Just Need a Groom

Normally wedding talk causes me to run the other way. (Bridesmaids dresses in navy blue and seafoam green?  That's horrid.  I mean, oh how lovely)


I look at dresses going omg I'm going to look like a polar bear.  Jeans.  I'm wearing jeans.  and white birkenstocks.

Someone sent me a link to vintage wedding dresses.  Like from 1900.  All Victorian and Edwardian.  Think Downton Abbey.

I saw this dress! SQUEEE!!

It's so flouncy and airy...and princess warrior like.  (I'm gushing.  like a girl.  oh sweet heavens)  I'm not so sure I like the flesh underslip but I think a pale blue could work.  maybe a blue purple.  mmmm in silk. mmmmm And I bet when I dance it would twirl....and flounce.  The shawl that goes with it is a an ew though.

Now all I need is a groom....

It's the little things

I'm getting used to Jake not being here.  But it is the little things where I miss him.

I had soup the other day.  I always shared my soup with Jake.
I was about to throw something away that Jake likes to eat and was like I can't throw it in this trash can cause Jake will oh.  yea.  right.
I miss him checking on me when I'm in the bathroom.  I might escape you know.
I miss him licking me after a shower to see if I'm clean.
I don't like the yolks of hard boiled eggs.  I don't have anyone to eat them for me.  Or my dinner that's burned.

I miss him as an excuse not to clean my room.  He so hated when I did that.

I miss his face looking at me while I'm eating.  Begging for a bite.

I don't however, miss his digestion issues.

Maybe She's Right

Last night, my mom started on about how the family is cursed.  It ended up with me being called self-centered. Of course the first thing I thought was I'm not self-centered, but as the night wore on, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I am self-centered.

Jake died a little over a week ago.  Hiking Buddy lost his little hiking friend (Jake) and I really haven't asked how he was doing or anything.

Drinking Buddy had a bad day on Saturday.  Although I did manage to come out of cocoon of unhappiness, I didn't really let him talk.  Alcohol has a terrible tendency to make me not shut up.  It's worse when I feel like I haven't been able to talk so all the thoughts come spilling out.

I'm not doing much for my family.  I should be contributing more even though whatever I do doesn't seem good enough or isn't done on their timeline.  I should be taking care of my parents not the other way around.

I think about Jake and the nights I left him home so I could go out drinking or whatever.  I should have stayed home with him or taken him places we could have gone together.

Someone has been egging me onto volunteer.  Besides the logistics problems, I'm just too tired to deal with people.

The more I think about, the more I think she is right.  I am self-centered.  And then I think of that priest who implied I wasn't nice or pleasant or kind.  It's no wonder I don't have bunches of friends.

And of course the ultimate self-centeredness, it would be better for everyone if I would just pick myself by my bootstraps and stopped being so miserable and mopey and unhappy.  But I'm too selfish to do anything about it.

Photo Adventures

If you wander over to my photo blog, you can look at all the pictures I've taken in the last week.  Lots of spring flowers.  Guess which is my favorite?

Drinking Misadventures

Drinking Buddy:  I'm not having a good day.
Me:  I'm sorry.  Would a drink make it better?
Drinking Buddy:  ok.
Me:  YAY!

Me:  Where we go?
DB:  Someplace fun, outdoors, public and cheap.
Me:  Uh.  Uh.  I got nothin...
(we landed up at the pinball bar)

Me:  WOOT!!!!! Look at the score!  (imagine some one sticking out tongue)
DB:  You are just the right amount of drunk.
(oh he was so right...cause as the buzz wore off, so did my pinball skills)

DB:  Let's go someplace else
Me:  Ok.  Where?
DB:  Outside, there's places on Manchester...
Me:  BUGALOO!!!!  They have SWINGS!!!  (important detail)
DB:  sigh

RDG (Random Drunk Guy):  If some body does something wrong do you tell them or let it go?
Me:  I put it all over the Internet.
RDG:  That's passive-aggressive.
Me:  Yes.

RDG (to DB):  If someone were to insult her, would you do something?
DB:  Well it depends.  What would a reasonable person do?  *fuzzyness of my brain here*  You have to look at the root cause.  The root cause is drinking therefore he shouldn't drink.
Me:  I expect you to deck him.
DB:  quirks is eyebrow at me
(What have we learned?  DB defuses situations.  I add fuel to the fire.)




This afternoon:
Me:  Hey did I fall or run into stuff last night?
DB:  Yes.  You ran into lots of things.  Where is bruise?
Me:  On my lower back.
DB:  You were banging around on the swings.
Me:  Oh yea.
DB:  You may have stumbled a bit too.
Me:  giggle.
DB:  yes.  giggle.