"thow" - Throw
"yo mane" - not an accidental mispronouncitation of Lo Mein, it means "you're mean"
"cream taters" - mashed potatoes
"are they?" - this does not necessarily refer to people. It doesn't even have anything to do with the the pronoun "they" - it's used instead of "are there"
richair- right there
richairyonder; richonder; richonderdare- right over there
Groshy - grocery
pelluh- pillow
aintcha- aren't you
ainta- aren't I
pess- past
bane- bean
caint- can't
Doe- door
seed- saw
tooah- to have (he like tooa fell...[trans] simply- he almost fell... literally, he was about to have fallen)
hain't - haven't or don't, depending on the usage
ate- eat; eat is pronounced et
pays- peas
And the phrases these people use!
hain't got none noways.
trans. I haven't any, anyway. or: I don't have any, anyway.
hain't never done nothin/went nowhere
Trans. I haven't ever done anything/ been anywhere
They use... double double negatives or something. Double negative doubles? Negative doubles? Like double sharps in music. It really very sad.
I have to translate in order to understand them. It's insane.
Please, someone, reassure me that there is a place out there where people speak English instead of this!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
but at when at first, for i read it as nabob.
That, Brian, is what I originally typed on your wall. It was one of the very few times that I actually looked up to check and see if I had made any major typos. I don't really know exactly what I was thinking when I composed that part of the sentence, but even I couldn't understand it. It amused me and I thought about leaving it, but I decided against that. I could see you making the dissappointed face that Kristen always talks about. I thought it would entertain some of you, though so that's why I put here (despite the dissappointed look). I think that being roommates with Jill and then coming back to Alabama has been a bad thing for me. I think it's mostly the Alabama part. I mean, at least "at-here-food-place" made some sort of sense. Perhaps, I'm just really tired. My day did start at 5:30am and almost all of my days now start at 6:30am- 7:00am; I litterally dream about next semester when my earliest class is at 10:40. Ah, bliss!
Oh, but what a day! it was "take Dad to the airport day" where he would catch a plane from Birmingham to Houston at 8am, then fly from Houston to Tulsa, from Tulsa to Salt Lake City, and from Salt Lake City to Billings, Montana where his boss would be waiting to pick him up and drive him 200 miles to Sheridan, Wyoming. SO we got there in plenty of time, went to the desk that the itenerary said to go to, where he waited for fifteen minutes and then was told "this is the wrong desk". After crossing the airport to the correct desk and waiting there for ten minutes, he was told "this flight has been overbooked... but I think you can still get a seat," which took another ten minutes or so. Then it was time for security check. In a line that streched from the security check point to the Continental ticket counter, which, unless you've been to the Birmingham airport, is worthless information to you, so think of it as from...Villa 1 to Villa 6. Quite long for Birmingham. Of course, his flight was called while he was in the line. He had just passed the ID taker woman. So my mother went to the Continental counter and asked if there was any way they could make sure the plane didn't leave. Next thing I knew "Could Continental passenger ______ please come to the ticket counter" was blaring over the loudspeaker. Turns out, the flight was full and they had locked it so he wouldn't have been able to get on anyway. The ticket people were really nice though, they tried so hard to get him on that plane. They spent twenty minutes trying to find a flight that wasn't booked with continental. They had to send him on Northwest. But this way he only had to fly BHM to Memphis, Memphis to Minneapolis, and Minneapolis to Billings. Unfortunately, the connecting flight from Minneapolis was delayed an hour so he's still somewhere in the air. My poor father.
Oh, but what a day! it was "take Dad to the airport day" where he would catch a plane from Birmingham to Houston at 8am, then fly from Houston to Tulsa, from Tulsa to Salt Lake City, and from Salt Lake City to Billings, Montana where his boss would be waiting to pick him up and drive him 200 miles to Sheridan, Wyoming. SO we got there in plenty of time, went to the desk that the itenerary said to go to, where he waited for fifteen minutes and then was told "this is the wrong desk". After crossing the airport to the correct desk and waiting there for ten minutes, he was told "this flight has been overbooked... but I think you can still get a seat," which took another ten minutes or so. Then it was time for security check. In a line that streched from the security check point to the Continental ticket counter, which, unless you've been to the Birmingham airport, is worthless information to you, so think of it as from...Villa 1 to Villa 6. Quite long for Birmingham. Of course, his flight was called while he was in the line. He had just passed the ID taker woman. So my mother went to the Continental counter and asked if there was any way they could make sure the plane didn't leave. Next thing I knew "Could Continental passenger ______ please come to the ticket counter" was blaring over the loudspeaker. Turns out, the flight was full and they had locked it so he wouldn't have been able to get on anyway. The ticket people were really nice though, they tried so hard to get him on that plane. They spent twenty minutes trying to find a flight that wasn't booked with continental. They had to send him on Northwest. But this way he only had to fly BHM to Memphis, Memphis to Minneapolis, and Minneapolis to Billings. Unfortunately, the connecting flight from Minneapolis was delayed an hour so he's still somewhere in the air. My poor father.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Boys, You Shouldn't Leave Fishing Lures in Your Pockets
They get caught in the little wholes in the washer and it takes twenty minutes to unhook them. And they rip your sisters' jeans.
I watched Spider Man Three again yesterday. It made me miss you guys. But the commentaries of little people were funny.
"It's dark in here. Really dark. Like it was in the tomb."
"What tomb?"
"You know, umm, Jesus' tomb."
"is love wonderful?"
"When are they going to make a movie where Spider Man looses? This is getting too predictable."
It wasn't quite as bad the second time. But I'm still of the opinion that it tried for cheesy and failed. Cheese is good. This was like fake cheesy. Like velveeta or worse, kraft singles. Although, this time I did manage not to laugh because Tobey Maguire can't cry. And I saw the lady on the stage do the head thing. Ha. But if I were to write a review it be: "Spiderman Three: A Film to Sleep Through." That's what I did both times. Although, I slept through different parts of both times. But I really liked the film's music.
Then we went to a friend's house and I spoke to Lauren for a long time. (Which sounds awfully rude but it wasn't. They have a very spoiled only daughter who won't saty by herself and they were out and it was raining and my parents went out with her parents and so the 7 of us were there). And then we came home and the others watched The Illusionist which made me miss you guys even more.
Sometimes I wish I had never studied music or theology. It's sad to me what happens at Mass in many places. NEWSFALSH: The Mass is not about us.
WHAT? You're kidding me! We're Christ's body! We're the Church! We're all one huge family (and totally NOT dysfunctional, never) We this and we that. Gather US in, WE are the light of world, I come here...
Besides that fact that the music is at best hard for a congregation to sing and slipshod, the words are at best vague about the truths of the faith. More often than not they can be interpreted heretically. In the words of C.S. Lewis, they are "fifth-rate poetry set to sixth-rate music." Unfortunately, these songs have become the norm, the norm of ignorance: ignorance of the history and purpose of sacred music, ignorance of the nobleness, beauty, and awesomeness of the Mass, and hence, ignorance of the Catholic faith and of God.
In the "spirit of Vatican II" composers and those that call themselves liturgists or liturgical musicians, in an effort to get the congregation more invovled, have accomplished the exact opposite; they have repulsed and silenced the congregation. The voices booming (or squeaking, or squalking)through the microphones are the only ones that are heard. (And sadly, most of them are not worth hearing.)
Many of the musical compostions for the English translations of the Gloria, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei are confusing and hard to learn. Music should inform the listeners of the "attitude" of the lyrics. The Gloria is not a dirge; it should not be sung like one. The Agnus Dei is a plea for mercy, not a happy little ditty about us. Today at Mass the Lamb of God was very peppy; my four year old brother bounced up and down to keep time. It was also very hard to sing. It jumped octaves! In the middle of a syllable! Twice! In the same syllable. There were many trills and embellishments. It did not fit the words at all.
The Mass is not our weekly free hour of entertainment. My job as a musician is NOT to perform. (This is very hard for many musicians to understand; don't even get me started on cantors.) My job as a musician is to help souls worship by singing or playing music that is fitting for the Mass; music that by its very nature and its compostion allows the soul to hear God's goodness and majesty reflected. It is better to have no music at all than to have a concert. The music should not be distracting to the congregation. The quality of the music should not distract (or annoy) the congregation. If you can't find a decent number of people who sing decently to be in the choir, then don't have a choir at all. The chorus setting of your electric organ should not come on in the middle of the Gloria, scaring people and causing them to look up in the choir loft and see what happened while drowning out the complicated melody making any attempt to sing it futile.
The words, too, are supposed to mean something. I, personally, cannot figure out what meaning "Gather us In" and "All are Welcome" have except to give ourselves a pat on the back. The Servant Song? I just don't get it. Let's come to Mass and sing songs about how great we are. Oh wait, the congregation doesn't sing anymore. Wonder why...
I watched Spider Man Three again yesterday. It made me miss you guys. But the commentaries of little people were funny.
"It's dark in here. Really dark. Like it was in the tomb."
"What tomb?"
"You know, umm, Jesus' tomb."
"is love wonderful?"
"When are they going to make a movie where Spider Man looses? This is getting too predictable."
It wasn't quite as bad the second time. But I'm still of the opinion that it tried for cheesy and failed. Cheese is good. This was like fake cheesy. Like velveeta or worse, kraft singles. Although, this time I did manage not to laugh because Tobey Maguire can't cry. And I saw the lady on the stage do the head thing. Ha. But if I were to write a review it be: "Spiderman Three: A Film to Sleep Through." That's what I did both times. Although, I slept through different parts of both times. But I really liked the film's music.
Then we went to a friend's house and I spoke to Lauren for a long time. (Which sounds awfully rude but it wasn't. They have a very spoiled only daughter who won't saty by herself and they were out and it was raining and my parents went out with her parents and so the 7 of us were there). And then we came home and the others watched The Illusionist which made me miss you guys even more.
Sometimes I wish I had never studied music or theology. It's sad to me what happens at Mass in many places. NEWSFALSH: The Mass is not about us.
WHAT? You're kidding me! We're Christ's body! We're the Church! We're all one huge family (and totally NOT dysfunctional, never) We this and we that. Gather US in, WE are the light of world, I come here...
Besides that fact that the music is at best hard for a congregation to sing and slipshod, the words are at best vague about the truths of the faith. More often than not they can be interpreted heretically. In the words of C.S. Lewis, they are "fifth-rate poetry set to sixth-rate music." Unfortunately, these songs have become the norm, the norm of ignorance: ignorance of the history and purpose of sacred music, ignorance of the nobleness, beauty, and awesomeness of the Mass, and hence, ignorance of the Catholic faith and of God.
In the "spirit of Vatican II" composers and those that call themselves liturgists or liturgical musicians, in an effort to get the congregation more invovled, have accomplished the exact opposite; they have repulsed and silenced the congregation. The voices booming (or squeaking, or squalking)through the microphones are the only ones that are heard. (And sadly, most of them are not worth hearing.)
Many of the musical compostions for the English translations of the Gloria, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei are confusing and hard to learn. Music should inform the listeners of the "attitude" of the lyrics. The Gloria is not a dirge; it should not be sung like one. The Agnus Dei is a plea for mercy, not a happy little ditty about us. Today at Mass the Lamb of God was very peppy; my four year old brother bounced up and down to keep time. It was also very hard to sing. It jumped octaves! In the middle of a syllable! Twice! In the same syllable. There were many trills and embellishments. It did not fit the words at all.
The Mass is not our weekly free hour of entertainment. My job as a musician is NOT to perform. (This is very hard for many musicians to understand; don't even get me started on cantors.) My job as a musician is to help souls worship by singing or playing music that is fitting for the Mass; music that by its very nature and its compostion allows the soul to hear God's goodness and majesty reflected. It is better to have no music at all than to have a concert. The music should not be distracting to the congregation. The quality of the music should not distract (or annoy) the congregation. If you can't find a decent number of people who sing decently to be in the choir, then don't have a choir at all. The chorus setting of your electric organ should not come on in the middle of the Gloria, scaring people and causing them to look up in the choir loft and see what happened while drowning out the complicated melody making any attempt to sing it futile.
The words, too, are supposed to mean something. I, personally, cannot figure out what meaning "Gather us In" and "All are Welcome" have except to give ourselves a pat on the back. The Servant Song? I just don't get it. Let's come to Mass and sing songs about how great we are. Oh wait, the congregation doesn't sing anymore. Wonder why...
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Did you know that a Rat smells in "3d"?
I didn't. Apparently, their sense of smell is thousands of times better than ours. It's funny what little minds are curious about. That was Dan's question: "how far do rats smell." Dom's was "what's in a nose." My question is why would anyone care how far a rat can smell enough to do scientific research to find the answer. And why does it matter?
These are the kind of things that I miss when I am in Georgia.
I finally got to cook! Tommorow I clean. I've read three books just because. I've put little ones to bed and played their favorite songs on the piano. (This is quite an accomplishment since almost anytime i play, someone says "STOP!") I feel a little less out-of-place when I do these things. Although it's hard not to out of place when you sleep on couch, have no where to call your own space (I did not realize how important this was to me) and are living out of a suitcase in the place you used to call home...
These are the kind of things that I miss when I am in Georgia.
I finally got to cook! Tommorow I clean. I've read three books just because. I've put little ones to bed and played their favorite songs on the piano. (This is quite an accomplishment since almost anytime i play, someone says "STOP!") I feel a little less out-of-place when I do these things. Although it's hard not to out of place when you sleep on couch, have no where to call your own space (I did not realize how important this was to me) and are living out of a suitcase in the place you used to call home...
Monday, April 02, 2007
Just Things
More appropriately, Simply Things or perhaps even Random Things since this has absolutely nothing to do with things have the virtue of justice. Just... things.
I think I upset my mother today. It's kind of hard to tell through text. Curses upon rude guys in trains! The only sane person where we live (my mother's best friend) may be moving to Michigan. So it'll be pretty lonely for my mother if they do (the family). It's a sad thing when Christians stop acting like Christians. Perhaps that's a confusing statement given that you don't know the context, but it's a long story. So it's not a happy thought that they'd be moving away. She said something along the lines of being really selfish for not wanting that to happen. I said that I hope it isn't because I'm pretty much in the same boat, only mine is more of an everyone else will be here and I'll be stuck in Alabama. I told her that I might go talk to Combee or Ashcroft (I'm leaning more towards Combee, other people have said Ashcroft) and she got upset. I think it bothers her that I would HAVE to stay there. And that she can't help me out anymore than she is (which is a lot, especially considering all circumstances). It would be pretty heartless of me to come, though, if I don't get more aid. I don't want to stay there. Anyway, it made sad that it upsets her that much. She'll barely talk to me about it except to say that I shouldn't be worrying about it and to concentrate on my work. I'm NOT worried about it. Sad, yes (especially since there is no Fall Break next semester). Worried, no. Whatever happens happens. Not to sound... whiny? but, I'm pretty used to having things not work out the way I want them to (and I have been way more homesick than I ever have been [considering that I've NEVER been homesick] and there has to be a reason for that...). Anyway, I'm sure you guys are tired of hearing about this so I'll try and refrain from bringing it up again. But it is kind of difficult.
On to better, brighter things.
My brother is going to have his First Communion on May 6th! This is my Danny-Boy so I'll get to be there, which makes me happy. I miss him and Carolynne a lot. I think that when I go home, Carolynne and I are going to live in the house that our family doesn't live in. It was built in the 30's and is about 20square feet. Ok so that's exaggerating in the opposite way that exaggeration normally implies. But it is pretty small. We were using it as a screen printing shop but we're going to fix it up to where it's live-able and She and I are going to live in it. With Isadora. The hamster.
Did I tell any of you that we got a hamster? Apparently, we did. I'm told it's cute. Speaking of cute, I'm still waiting for them to send me pictures of the duck that speaks goose. Whose name is not Chick or Fritter. It's Flip. and the other's name was Twitter. But Dominic got mixed up when he was telling me. Speaking of Dominic, did I ever tell you guys that at one point, he had 16 different nick names? Everyone called him something different and he answered to all of them. IF the right person called him the right name. It was insane. I'm surprised he didn't have some sort of identity crisis. He enjoyed it, though.
David is going to be 10 on Saturday! It's hard to believe. He's almost as tall as I am though. I think he comes up to my ears. He's going to be one big guy.
Time for class.
I think I upset my mother today. It's kind of hard to tell through text. Curses upon rude guys in trains! The only sane person where we live (my mother's best friend) may be moving to Michigan. So it'll be pretty lonely for my mother if they do (the family). It's a sad thing when Christians stop acting like Christians. Perhaps that's a confusing statement given that you don't know the context, but it's a long story. So it's not a happy thought that they'd be moving away. She said something along the lines of being really selfish for not wanting that to happen. I said that I hope it isn't because I'm pretty much in the same boat, only mine is more of an everyone else will be here and I'll be stuck in Alabama. I told her that I might go talk to Combee or Ashcroft (I'm leaning more towards Combee, other people have said Ashcroft) and she got upset. I think it bothers her that I would HAVE to stay there. And that she can't help me out anymore than she is (which is a lot, especially considering all circumstances). It would be pretty heartless of me to come, though, if I don't get more aid. I don't want to stay there. Anyway, it made sad that it upsets her that much. She'll barely talk to me about it except to say that I shouldn't be worrying about it and to concentrate on my work. I'm NOT worried about it. Sad, yes (especially since there is no Fall Break next semester). Worried, no. Whatever happens happens. Not to sound... whiny? but, I'm pretty used to having things not work out the way I want them to (and I have been way more homesick than I ever have been [considering that I've NEVER been homesick] and there has to be a reason for that...). Anyway, I'm sure you guys are tired of hearing about this so I'll try and refrain from bringing it up again. But it is kind of difficult.
On to better, brighter things.
My brother is going to have his First Communion on May 6th! This is my Danny-Boy so I'll get to be there, which makes me happy. I miss him and Carolynne a lot. I think that when I go home, Carolynne and I are going to live in the house that our family doesn't live in. It was built in the 30's and is about 20square feet. Ok so that's exaggerating in the opposite way that exaggeration normally implies. But it is pretty small. We were using it as a screen printing shop but we're going to fix it up to where it's live-able and She and I are going to live in it. With Isadora. The hamster.
Did I tell any of you that we got a hamster? Apparently, we did. I'm told it's cute. Speaking of cute, I'm still waiting for them to send me pictures of the duck that speaks goose. Whose name is not Chick or Fritter. It's Flip. and the other's name was Twitter. But Dominic got mixed up when he was telling me. Speaking of Dominic, did I ever tell you guys that at one point, he had 16 different nick names? Everyone called him something different and he answered to all of them. IF the right person called him the right name. It was insane. I'm surprised he didn't have some sort of identity crisis. He enjoyed it, though.
David is going to be 10 on Saturday! It's hard to believe. He's almost as tall as I am though. I think he comes up to my ears. He's going to be one big guy.
Time for class.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Ah, yes
Today, I had lunch with Dr. Urbanczyk! And Dr. Bruce, but he doesn't get an exclamation point. Although, I think he no longer doesn't like me and I have decided that I like him, but not his oddities. Emily Looney thinks I'm absolutely crazy. (That actually wasn't random, believe it or not; she ate lunch with us) I can't deny it. But she is, too.
ANYWHOO...
You missed it, Brian. We totaly got Dr. Urbanczyk off on a tangent about Wal-Mart. It was great. But then we were reading the little thingamabobbers on the table- the activity thingy- and on it, it says "Bettie Seller's John Kay" and Anthony asked one of them who that was and Dr. Bruce was telling us that they are colleagues and coming to speak about a Georgian poet-laureate (did I get that right?). At which point I said "Oh! There's not supposed to be an apostrophe there and there should be a comma between them. I thought it was a novel she'd written or something." And neither of the Doctors had realized that. So Dr. Bruce said "Yes, she's a ventriloquist and John Kay is her dummie's name" So he and Dr. Urbanzcyk (and all of us) laughed about it for a little while until Dr. Bruce said "Yes, I have to introduce them. I've been wondering how I was going to do that. I think that's how I should". Dr. Urbanczyk thought this was hilarious. I thought it was pretty funny, too. I was like "that would be great" and Dr. Urbanczyk said "Yes, that would be highly entertaining."
Dr. Bruce was pretty funny today in class. I felt bad that I had to leave so many times. I felt bad for the person sitting next to me as well...
I thought I was going to die this morning. I seriously could not breathe. It's really fun to wake up at 4 am unable to breathe. You should all try it one day. I highly reccommend it. Most fun I've had in years.
O.k. that was really lame, but hey, what do you expect from me? I'm tired, anyway. Let me submit to you that tiredness isn't great for writing intelligible things. Just ask Dan. I don't want to go class. I think I might fall asleep. Why am I so tired. I'm confused. But tomorrow's Saturday. I don't think I've eaten an actual meal all week. Just salads. Why won't they make Chicken Parmagan? I miss eating meat. Sorry Amy. But meat is good.
ANYWHOO...
You missed it, Brian. We totaly got Dr. Urbanczyk off on a tangent about Wal-Mart. It was great. But then we were reading the little thingamabobbers on the table- the activity thingy- and on it, it says "Bettie Seller's John Kay" and Anthony asked one of them who that was and Dr. Bruce was telling us that they are colleagues and coming to speak about a Georgian poet-laureate (did I get that right?). At which point I said "Oh! There's not supposed to be an apostrophe there and there should be a comma between them. I thought it was a novel she'd written or something." And neither of the Doctors had realized that. So Dr. Bruce said "Yes, she's a ventriloquist and John Kay is her dummie's name" So he and Dr. Urbanzcyk (and all of us) laughed about it for a little while until Dr. Bruce said "Yes, I have to introduce them. I've been wondering how I was going to do that. I think that's how I should". Dr. Urbanczyk thought this was hilarious. I thought it was pretty funny, too. I was like "that would be great" and Dr. Urbanczyk said "Yes, that would be highly entertaining."
Dr. Bruce was pretty funny today in class. I felt bad that I had to leave so many times. I felt bad for the person sitting next to me as well...
I thought I was going to die this morning. I seriously could not breathe. It's really fun to wake up at 4 am unable to breathe. You should all try it one day. I highly reccommend it. Most fun I've had in years.
O.k. that was really lame, but hey, what do you expect from me? I'm tired, anyway. Let me submit to you that tiredness isn't great for writing intelligible things. Just ask Dan. I don't want to go class. I think I might fall asleep. Why am I so tired. I'm confused. But tomorrow's Saturday. I don't think I've eaten an actual meal all week. Just salads. Why won't they make Chicken Parmagan? I miss eating meat. Sorry Amy. But meat is good.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
(PLEASE DON'T READ THIS, JILL, YOU WILL NOT BE HAPPY AT ME)
Spring Break is almost over and I'm not entirely ready to return. I miss you guys, but I am actually liking being here. That's new feeling. I honestly don't think I've been happy to be here in nine years. I'm absolutely serious about that (yeah, i know i'm only 18, but that is a carefully thought about statement and I'm pretty sure it's accurate). I've been saying that i was ready to get out of this hell of a town (well sort of a town...) for at least five years. So I guess it's nice to just enjoy being here.
This week certainly calmed some of my fears about my extended summer. I'm almost positive that this will happen and the funny thing is, I'm really not that depressed about it any more. Certainly, I'll miss school like crazy. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you guys. And that thought is depressing. Very depressing. More than depressing, but I don't know the right word for it. But I'm not depressed about having to spend seven months here anymore. I'm sure that I won't like it. I know it'll be exteremly difficult come the end of August when my sister goes back to Ave and I stay here missing you guys, missing the classes, missing Thursday nights at the Crimson Moon and late night trips to Casa de Waffle, dinners that last an hour and half, bread wars, dancing elephants, Dan playing guitar, laughing in sync with Jill and Lauren, staying in Villa three watching movies until 3am, missing Dr. U's "frigginfragginfrugginfrick" outbursts (thanks, Brian), Dr. Hartmann being Dr. Hartmann, and everything else that I could possibly miss. But, I don't know, somehow this week I've come to peace with the fact that I might be here for a while. I'll have work and, who knows, I might take a few classes at the community college.
I think that I can do this.
See you guys tomorrow night. Well, for most you, I think it's later on today now.
Spring Break is almost over and I'm not entirely ready to return. I miss you guys, but I am actually liking being here. That's new feeling. I honestly don't think I've been happy to be here in nine years. I'm absolutely serious about that (yeah, i know i'm only 18, but that is a carefully thought about statement and I'm pretty sure it's accurate). I've been saying that i was ready to get out of this hell of a town (well sort of a town...) for at least five years. So I guess it's nice to just enjoy being here.
This week certainly calmed some of my fears about my extended summer. I'm almost positive that this will happen and the funny thing is, I'm really not that depressed about it any more. Certainly, I'll miss school like crazy. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you guys. And that thought is depressing. Very depressing. More than depressing, but I don't know the right word for it. But I'm not depressed about having to spend seven months here anymore. I'm sure that I won't like it. I know it'll be exteremly difficult come the end of August when my sister goes back to Ave and I stay here missing you guys, missing the classes, missing Thursday nights at the Crimson Moon and late night trips to Casa de Waffle, dinners that last an hour and half, bread wars, dancing elephants, Dan playing guitar, laughing in sync with Jill and Lauren, staying in Villa three watching movies until 3am, missing Dr. U's "frigginfragginfrugginfrick" outbursts (thanks, Brian), Dr. Hartmann being Dr. Hartmann, and everything else that I could possibly miss. But, I don't know, somehow this week I've come to peace with the fact that I might be here for a while. I'll have work and, who knows, I might take a few classes at the community college.
I think that I can do this.
See you guys tomorrow night. Well, for most you, I think it's later on today now.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Kids say the darndest things
They really do.
"Can I have a waffle, Cat? My sugar's low."
"Mom, can I get out of the car?" "No, wait here, I'll just be a minute" "But, Mom, I need to exercise!"
"Why do they call them cheeseboogers?"
"We can't sing that song Cat, it has the 'a' word in it!"
"What??"
"Alleluia"
"What if God tells me to be a priest?"
-"Well, Dom, I guess you'll be a priest."
"No I won't. I'll run away"
-"Like Jonah?"
"Yeah, just like Jonah"
-"What if you get swallowed by a whale?"
"Well, I won't be a priest, then 'cuz I'll be dead!"
"Can I have a waffle, Cat? My sugar's low."
"Mom, can I get out of the car?" "No, wait here, I'll just be a minute" "But, Mom, I need to exercise!"
"Why do they call them cheeseboogers?"
"We can't sing that song Cat, it has the 'a' word in it!"
"What??"
"Alleluia"
"What if God tells me to be a priest?"
-"Well, Dom, I guess you'll be a priest."
"No I won't. I'll run away"
-"Like Jonah?"
"Yeah, just like Jonah"
-"What if you get swallowed by a whale?"
"Well, I won't be a priest, then 'cuz I'll be dead!"
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Isn't this just Loverly?
For some reason the 'Loverly' song from My Fair Lady is Stuck in my head and I'm really happy so it just kind of came out in a song. I've never been this happy to be home. Little kids to take care of, floors to mop, food to cook, laundry to wash, people with colds to look after (not that I wish them sickness...). The only not so grand thing has been the doctor to visit. And by the way, though this comes as no surpirse to any of you, I'm sure, I have been officially diagnosed with asthma and been given perscription drugs to treat it. Maybe (hopefully) you won't have to put up with me hacking in class so much anymore. Hartmann will just have to find something else to tease me about. Shouldn't be too hard...
But back to my wonderful week and the conclusions that it has led me to come to. I have to start at Saturday night at Mass. My four year old brother wanted to sit next to me. After the homily, he decides that he's tired of behaving. I gently tell him "Dommy, stop making noises". He does. For a little while. Then he doesn't want to stand. I pick him up off the pew and set him on his feet. He promptly collapses at my feet (how he managed to not hit his head, I can't figure out. Obviously, he's pretty practiced at this...). Great. I have to leave him. I'm not Mom. He knows that this will cause a scene and Mom is in different pew because, well, there were eight of us and the church was full. Eventually, he slithers onto the pew. Now, it's time for the offertory. He does something really naughty (can't remember what it was) and I told him stop. At this point, he scoots over to my sister, Carolynne and burries his head in her arm. He's really pouting. We're not amused. Until he pops up, looks at my sister, gives her a thumbs up and dashing smile, looks at me, then gives me a thumbs down and the most spoiled rotten youngest child frown he can. Now we're trying really hard not to laugh at him. So we ignore him until the Sanctus when he refuses to kneel. We can't let him just get away with it; it's a spoiled, willful thing and needs to be curbed. So we each grab one arm and hold him up. This really does not make him happy. He squirms. We are forced to let go or he'll scream. (This really is making him sound like a brat. He isn't. He just has sever youngest child syndrome. Yes, Jill. There's a youngest child syndrome. I don't care if you think there isn't. It's probably only because you're a youngest that you can't reconcile yourself to that fact.) So this continues until the sign of peace. When it heightens. The lady who was sitting in front of us (looked JUST like Wanda on Wishbone, only she had blonde hair) patted his hand (because he refused to shake anyone's hand) and he huffed and then wiped his hand off with his other hand while shooting the lady a "please die now" look. Luckily, she was paying no attention whatsoever to him. Ha, Dominic!, someone who ignores you with no trouble at all!! The consecration is his favorite part, so we had no trouble with him then. But afterwards, he started freaking out. “I need Mom, I need Mom” poor guy, he had a cold and now a fever.
On Sunday, my siblings had plans to spend the day at Aunt Holly's and Uncle Frank's. (Aunt Holly and Uncle Frank are on a cruise [so I won't see them :(] and they have a lot of animal that my sister is taking care of for them. They also have a pond. And we have a canoe type boat. [I haven't actually seen it in about oh, 5 or 6 years] My brothers love to fish and have just discovered how to row. And they are learning about the Amazons. And my sister is a writer so she's really good creatively. So, they are some sort of ship crew stranded on some Island or something somewhere. They have a ship's log and everything. It's all very interesting.) Anyway, Mom was doing taxes and I opted to stay home with her and come later. So I spent the entire day (I knew that we really weren't ever going to actually make it over to Aunt Holly's) in the kitchen. Scrubbing. Everything: counters, appliances, and floors. I forget who was there (or not there) when I had the “I miss mopping floors” moment. I know Derek was. He was the only guy there, poor thing. Anywhoo, I finally got to mop the floor. After I cleaned, I cooked! And then the siblings cleaned up dinner. While i was waiting for the others to come home, I flipped through the channels and what did I find but Wishbone. Hadn't seen that in years. And how many times have i had dinner conversations about it? (A lot) And in Villa 3.
Monday absolutely nothing worth taking your time to read happened except that I made chili. Monday night, Dominic was pretty sick with a cold, poor kid. So he decided that he would crawl into my bed. This wouldn't been a problem except that he was coughing in my face, not sleeping, and whining every time I moved. So, I got up to get him some medicine. He freaked out. I waited for him and took him with me. Got him some triaminic or something and he calmed down, went to sleep and didn't wake up until my alarm went off at 7:15. Which is really late for a kid who is normally up at 6 at the latest, saying: “come on, the sun's up, it's a new day, get up” and amazing considering that I woke up at 6:50 to AHHAHEEHHEHEEEEEE from our two brothers who were having a screeching while being tickled contest. I discovered that he talks a lot in his sleep. Actually, he fights with David a lot in his sleep...
So somewhere amidst all the chaotic and non-chaotic moments, I realized how incredibly selfish I've been about the next semester thing. The reason that I decided not to come back without more aid is not because I don't want to come out with a lot of debt (which is true) but the reason I decided not to come back without more aid is because of how unfair and selfish it is of me to expect everyone else in my family to sacrifice so that I can do what I want to do. I can spend four extra months here working so that don't have to worry about finding the money to pay the other half of Cat's tuition or (as in November, December, and January) the entire thing if she can't. They have needs and wants to and for me to come back next semester without more aid would be one of the most ungrateful things that I could do. And I found out that I miss home more than I ever thought I would. I miss being here when the little ones need me or want me or when they discover something new or being able to fix dinner when Mom is tires or mopping the floor or sitting outside listening to all the wild birds and other critters running around here and just thinking. I think that if I don't get more aid, I will be able to resign myself to staying here for a few extra months. I really don't want to but I won't die from it. So if you hear me whining or sighing about it again, feel free to slap me and say “Hello, the world does not revolve around you. Stop bitching about it.”
But back to my wonderful week and the conclusions that it has led me to come to. I have to start at Saturday night at Mass. My four year old brother wanted to sit next to me. After the homily, he decides that he's tired of behaving. I gently tell him "Dommy, stop making noises". He does. For a little while. Then he doesn't want to stand. I pick him up off the pew and set him on his feet. He promptly collapses at my feet (how he managed to not hit his head, I can't figure out. Obviously, he's pretty practiced at this...). Great. I have to leave him. I'm not Mom. He knows that this will cause a scene and Mom is in different pew because, well, there were eight of us and the church was full. Eventually, he slithers onto the pew. Now, it's time for the offertory. He does something really naughty (can't remember what it was) and I told him stop. At this point, he scoots over to my sister, Carolynne and burries his head in her arm. He's really pouting. We're not amused. Until he pops up, looks at my sister, gives her a thumbs up and dashing smile, looks at me, then gives me a thumbs down and the most spoiled rotten youngest child frown he can. Now we're trying really hard not to laugh at him. So we ignore him until the Sanctus when he refuses to kneel. We can't let him just get away with it; it's a spoiled, willful thing and needs to be curbed. So we each grab one arm and hold him up. This really does not make him happy. He squirms. We are forced to let go or he'll scream. (This really is making him sound like a brat. He isn't. He just has sever youngest child syndrome. Yes, Jill. There's a youngest child syndrome. I don't care if you think there isn't. It's probably only because you're a youngest that you can't reconcile yourself to that fact.) So this continues until the sign of peace. When it heightens. The lady who was sitting in front of us (looked JUST like Wanda on Wishbone, only she had blonde hair) patted his hand (because he refused to shake anyone's hand) and he huffed and then wiped his hand off with his other hand while shooting the lady a "please die now" look. Luckily, she was paying no attention whatsoever to him. Ha, Dominic!, someone who ignores you with no trouble at all!! The consecration is his favorite part, so we had no trouble with him then. But afterwards, he started freaking out. “I need Mom, I need Mom” poor guy, he had a cold and now a fever.
On Sunday, my siblings had plans to spend the day at Aunt Holly's and Uncle Frank's. (Aunt Holly and Uncle Frank are on a cruise [so I won't see them :(] and they have a lot of animal that my sister is taking care of for them. They also have a pond. And we have a canoe type boat. [I haven't actually seen it in about oh, 5 or 6 years] My brothers love to fish and have just discovered how to row. And they are learning about the Amazons. And my sister is a writer so she's really good creatively. So, they are some sort of ship crew stranded on some Island or something somewhere. They have a ship's log and everything. It's all very interesting.) Anyway, Mom was doing taxes and I opted to stay home with her and come later. So I spent the entire day (I knew that we really weren't ever going to actually make it over to Aunt Holly's) in the kitchen. Scrubbing. Everything: counters, appliances, and floors. I forget who was there (or not there) when I had the “I miss mopping floors” moment. I know Derek was. He was the only guy there, poor thing. Anywhoo, I finally got to mop the floor. After I cleaned, I cooked! And then the siblings cleaned up dinner. While i was waiting for the others to come home, I flipped through the channels and what did I find but Wishbone. Hadn't seen that in years. And how many times have i had dinner conversations about it? (A lot) And in Villa 3.
Monday absolutely nothing worth taking your time to read happened except that I made chili. Monday night, Dominic was pretty sick with a cold, poor kid. So he decided that he would crawl into my bed. This wouldn't been a problem except that he was coughing in my face, not sleeping, and whining every time I moved. So, I got up to get him some medicine. He freaked out. I waited for him and took him with me. Got him some triaminic or something and he calmed down, went to sleep and didn't wake up until my alarm went off at 7:15. Which is really late for a kid who is normally up at 6 at the latest, saying: “come on, the sun's up, it's a new day, get up” and amazing considering that I woke up at 6:50 to AHHAHEEHHEHEEEEEE from our two brothers who were having a screeching while being tickled contest. I discovered that he talks a lot in his sleep. Actually, he fights with David a lot in his sleep...
So somewhere amidst all the chaotic and non-chaotic moments, I realized how incredibly selfish I've been about the next semester thing. The reason that I decided not to come back without more aid is not because I don't want to come out with a lot of debt (which is true) but the reason I decided not to come back without more aid is because of how unfair and selfish it is of me to expect everyone else in my family to sacrifice so that I can do what I want to do. I can spend four extra months here working so that don't have to worry about finding the money to pay the other half of Cat's tuition or (as in November, December, and January) the entire thing if she can't. They have needs and wants to and for me to come back next semester without more aid would be one of the most ungrateful things that I could do. And I found out that I miss home more than I ever thought I would. I miss being here when the little ones need me or want me or when they discover something new or being able to fix dinner when Mom is tires or mopping the floor or sitting outside listening to all the wild birds and other critters running around here and just thinking. I think that if I don't get more aid, I will be able to resign myself to staying here for a few extra months. I really don't want to but I won't die from it. So if you hear me whining or sighing about it again, feel free to slap me and say “Hello, the world does not revolve around you. Stop bitching about it.”
Friday, March 09, 2007
Have a Really Great Break!
That's all I want to say. Be safe, have fun, relax, and I'll see you all on Sunday! (Probably Sunday night)
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About Me
- Cat
- Ave Maria, FL, United States
- BA in Music - Concentration in Sacred Music (and voice), shutterbug, philosophy lover
