On Tolerance

From the title of the post you might be thinking that I'll be lecturing people about accepting everyone as they are and cooperating to make this world a better place. You might especially assume this if you have been reading or participating in the recent debates on Anne's blog, where the topics of "craziness" and "big boy beds" have incited near riots. But I'm actually writing on something much more important. Alcohol.

When I was younger, say around 19-21, I could drink 8 beers and a couple of mixed drinks, fall asleep on somebody's kitchen floor with a sombrero on around 3:00 am, and wake up around 8:00 am and go for a jog. Perhaps it was because I was partying with a bunch of guys at an all guys school, but I felt like I had to keep up. And keep up I did. After the Wabash days, I furthered my drinking career by becoming the Irish Car Bomb drinking champ. This is a title I still hold today, and although I drink considerably less, I plan to defend it until death or pregnancy. Though it has a crude name, the concoction is quite a good if you imbibe it quickly enough. If you don't drink it quickly enough, it becomes a demon in a glass. This drink consists of a Guinness, a half shot of Irish whiskey and a half shot of Irish cream. When quaffed correctly it tastes like an alcoholic chocolate milkshake. When consumed incorrectly it tastes and looks like expired chocolate cottage cheese. Now, obviously, I've never seen myself drink one of these things, but I've heard I'm fast. I have, however, seen my biggest competition, Grant Freeman and my own cousin Matthew Arnett, drink one. I am amazed at the speed with which they drink, and if I can consistently beat them, then I must really have an amazing talent. Some people have genius IQs, some people can drink beer really fast. All talents are God-given, right? That's what I keep telling myself.

I have to insert at this point that after my college partying days, I never strove to "get drunk". This is a mortal sin and by the time I turned 22, I realized it. So if you drink and can't be drunk, how do you monitor yourself? There are many names for the point of non-drunkenness. I call it the "grey area". This is the large area between sober and drunkenness that you can rightfully stay in without shaming yourself. John Russell calls it the "point of hilarity". This is where you drink until you are in good spirits, but you stop once you are at that point.

Now I am at the ripe old age of almost 26, and I can count the times I have consumed more than one drink in a sitting on one hand, no maybe one ands a half hands, in the past year. I just don't like drinking all that much anymore. A statement like this would get my Catholic card revoked in many communities and parishes, so I have kept this a secret for a bit. I mean, what's the point of drinking? If I am only going to have one drink, then it just amounts to extra calories. If I have more then that, I risk drunkenness. Further, I say stupid things, embarrass myself, and trip over stuff daily. I don't need alcohol to help me do that anymore.

And with this revelation, my tolerance has taken a huge hit over the years. In fact, I had four drinks last night over the course of 6 or 7 hours. This morning I woke up convinced that a little man with a jackhammer had started a construction project on my skull. While trying to block out the pulse-like throbbing in my head, I reflected on my earlier days when last night's expedition would have been considered "pre-gaming" for the real party. This brought on equal parts of awe and horror.

I am so glad I don't drink like I did in college. It's funny to say it that way because I have only been out of college for three months. Perhaps I should say "early college". Alcohol has lots of empty calories, it is bad for organs(internal and musical. Don't ask.), and it usually makes me look like an even bigger idiot than I already am. And I say all of this knowing full well that I will drink, probably right up the the edge of the grey-black area, at the party tonight. See you there!

Party On. Excellent.

David and I have decided to throw a going away party.... for ourselves. Yes, we'll be the guests of honor and all of you out there reading are invited (that is if we know you).

We went to the store last night and bought burgers, chicken, steaks, soda, chips, beer, brownies, cookies, etc. There will be music and beanbag toss too. We want everyone to come, so spread the word to all who you think might like to wish us goodbye. Here's the vital information.

David and Monica's Going Away Party

Date- Friday, August 24th

Place- O'Neil Castle. Call or email if you need directions.

Time- Cookout starts at 5:00 so all you people with little ones can make it. At 8:30 we will take a couple of minutes to send off the Long Walkers. Party will resume around 8:45 or 9:00 sans Long Walkers.

We have all the main dishes, but if you'd like to bring a side that would be great.

We decided to have the going away party the same night as the Long Walk commencement because a bunch of our friends are going to be in town for that anyway. RSVP here on the blog, or call, or just come. But please do come. We want to see all of you one last time.

Packing

Well, we started packing today. All I have to say is that we have WAAAAAAAAAAY too many books. Doesn't sound possible, does it? It's true. I brought an entire truck bed full of boxes home today, and all but the very biggest boxes have been filled to the brim with books. I can't imagine what it's like when professors have to move.

What's in a Name?

Ol' Shakesy asked the above question in Romeo and Juliet, and I've been thinking about names, specifically naming children, since Laura posted last week on the name Lawrence. You see, I have scores of great names picked out for our future children. I want to name my children after early saints and classical and literary figures. But whenever I let slip a name I'm contemplating, the same trite argument rears its head. This argument is known as The Infallible Playground Doctrine set forth by the Senate of Concerned Grandparents, Nosy Friends, and Boring Aunts in 1895. The argument can be summed up as the following: "You can't name your child that!!! He'll be made fun of and be beaten up on the playground for sure." And from this argument, many great names have been shot down in favor of more normal or common names. I'm here today to write against the above doctrine and promote a new one. This new argument is called They Are My Kids and I am Going to Name Them Whatever The Hell I Want, So Shut Up. I have three basic arguments against the Playground Doctrine.

1. They are my kids and I am going to name them whatever the hell I want, so shut up.
If my husband and I agree to name our first son Xenophanes Hezekiah Milkbone BB Gun Josephus Snowglobe O'Neil, that's what we're going to name him. Why? Because it's our baby, we made him, and we're going to name him. I must say that I have no problem with common names. In fact, I like a lot of them. I love the names John, Michael, David, etc. And I am not going to purposely give my child an uncommon name just for the sake of it being uncommon. But if I find myself drawn to an uncommon name, I'm not going to be detracted by some old lady.

2. EVERYONE IS MADE FUN OF ON THE PLAYGROUND. EVERYONE.
Let's do a little informal poll. How many of you were ever made fun of on the playground? I'm guessing 100%. Now, how many of you were made fun of on the playground for something other than your name? I'm guessing close to 100%. From this we can deduce that giving your child a common name will not prevent him or her from being made fun of on the playground. My children are going to have red hair, pale skin, little knowledge of pop culture, and possibly 700 food allergies. If they are made fun of for their name only, it would be a massive blessing. I mean, children are made fun of for coming to school with dried up snot rivers mixed with dirt running down their faces, and yet parents still send them to school that way. Kids are made fun of for weighing 300 pounds in the 2nd grade, and yet parents still send them to school that way. So what, in God's name, is wrong with sending your kid to school with a name like Aloysius? And yet the parents of the 300 pound 2nd grader with snot rivers are the people telling me that I just can't name my kid Augustine Leonidas O'Neil. Well, I can and I will.

3. An odd name with personal meaning and importance is preferable to a common or popular one without.
Go to the mall and yell out the name Dakota. See how many children turn their heads. If it's less than 4,000 I'd be surprised. Now yell out the name Augustine. If one kid turns his head I would be equally surprised. Perhaps all 4,000 children were named Dakota because their parents were inspired by that part of the country. That's fine, but I am not inspired by that part of the country. At least, not enough to name my kid that. Maybe my cat. Nah, I wouldn't even name my cat that. The point is that the name should mean something to the parents and they should pass that meaning on to their child.

Finally, I've known lots of people with odd names, and as far as I know none of them died of shame one the playground. These names include Leaf, Patience, Song, Glade, Prentice, and so on. When contemplating the names of your children, disregard the playground argument, and whatever you do, don't regurgitate it.

It Turned on Hot

My mother has this weird saying whenever the weather cools down quickly. She'll say, "It turned off cold". I would just attribute this to a regional saying, but I've never heard anyone but my mother and her twin sister say it. And now David and I say it because we think it's funny and it reminds me of my mom. It's not a mean spirited funny. We just think it's a neat saying. Well, it has not turned off cold in about a week here, so David and I have taken the saying one step further. We've started saying that "it turned on hot". Obviously it doesn't have quite the same ring, but it works just the same. Anyway, it has turned on hot, and as Laura says, there isn't much to do when it's this hot besides stay in and watch movies.

Movies I have watched in the past week include Diary of a Country Priest, The Cutting Edge, Rob Roy, a documentary on the Green Berets, and a documentary on Angola prison in Louisiana, a prison where 85% of the inmates will die there. On Friday, while David is walking in honor of the BVM on the pilgrimage, I'll be hosting a deconstruction of the movie 300. Perhaps a better word for what we are doing would be, in the words of Clayton Lein, an excavation. Yes, I know that this movie is based more on a graphic novel and less on the actual battle of Thermopylae, but dammit, I was a classics major and I have got to use my degree somehow. We'll be pointing out the inconsistencies in the movie compared to the historical account. A little snarky and misguided perhaps, but like I said, what the hell else am I supposed to do with this degree? On Saturday I have committed myself to walking the last eight miles of the pilgrimage for the BVM and OLSJC. On Sunday, I'll be heading down to Indy to watch Harry Potter in the IMAX theater. Also slated for this week is a documentary on the salt farmers of Tibet and another documentary on an anthropological hoax in Brittan. Documentaries are quickly becoming my favorite genre of movie. Many of my friends already giggle when I start a conversations by saying "I was just watching a documentary on...." Well, this is as good a place to end the post as any. Pray it turns off cold soon.

Survey says...

I guess I'm trying to avoid writing a real post. This was originally a list of 70 questions, but I picked out the ones I felt like answering. So here.

Initials:
MLBAO

Do you believe in God:
I believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen. I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in being with the Father. Through Him all things were made. For us men and our salvation He came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary , and became man. For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate; He suffered, died, and was buried. On the third day He rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures: He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son. With the Father and the Son, He is worshiped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets. I believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. I acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.

Ever lived outside of the US:
I wouldn't say lived. More like extended visits.

What is your dad's name:
Joseph Anthony Matthew Arnett

What are your siblings' names:
Anthony Ross Ignatius Arnett
Alexander Nicholas Joseph Arnett

What is your dream car:
Dictator Mercedes. You know the type. All the cool despots have one.

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Patagonia, New Zealand, Chipotle.

Favorite type of Food?
Sugar. Refined and granulated.

Song you are listening to right now:
"I Am a Scientist" -Guided by Voices version, not the Dandy Warhols version.

What are your current fav songs?:
"I Am a Scientist" I've had it in my head for weeks now. "Cemetery Gates"- The Smiths, "Silent Fortress"- Pinback.

What was the last movie you watched?:
Diary of a Country Priest. Tonight I'm watching The Cutting Edge with some girlfriends. Toe Pick!!

What are you afraid of?
Terminal illness, germs, having children.

How many pets do you have:
I have an imaginary orange kitten named Graham after Graham Greene. I hope to make him real once we move to Cincinnati.

Have you ever loved someone:
Yes, and I happen to be married to him.

What do you usually order from Starbucks:
Iced Mocha

Are you missing someone?
I'm already missing all my family and friends and I haven't even moved yet. I think my friend Buffy could relate.

Whats your mom's name?
Rebecca Carlene Crowell Arnett

What books are you reading:
How Right You Are, Jeeves- PG Wodehouse. Mrs. Schafer loaned it to me and I have to read it and give it back before I leave.

Favorite basketball team:
Actually, I am a really big fan of Purdue Women's basketball team.

Favorite cereal:
I don't eat cereal anymore. David convinced me that cereal is loaded with too much sugar (even the kinds that are supposed to be good for you). So now I just drink iced coffees for breakfast.

Do you drive:
Yes. I kind of like driving as long as it isn't on 26, 52, or any major highway where people drive way too fast. I drive a 1991 Ford Ranger with a chrome cobra head for a shifter and a "Papist" bumper sticker.

The End

I'm subbing for David at work today. Our last day at Ivy Tech and David decided to visit a friend in South Bend and bestow the honors of turning out the lights one last time in the LRC to me. Well, I didn't have any coffee this morning, and I feel like I'm dying. So I decided to take a quiz to see what my obituary will say.

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

I think that's pretty much correct, but I haven't explored what the full implications of "their lover" means.

*&@#$%^!

I just dropped the F-bomb in front of Keeney. Again. This time it was at work. I don't even think I use the F--- word that often. Why do I have to say it in front of a person who has probably only ever heard that word when it is coming from my mouth? We weren't even playing Scrabble this time. Sheesh.

Job Found

Well, I didn't get the job at Brown Mackie College. They finally called back yesterday and told me they didn't want me. Instead, I got a better job at a better community college this morning. You are looking at the newest English Comp. teacher for Cincinnati State Community College. I couldn't be happier. This is the school I originally wanted to work for and I had some misgivings about Brown Mackie. Brown Mackie is in a dumpy location in a bad neighborhood and all the teachers talk about their students like these kids just escaped from prison. Cincinnati State, on the other hand, is on the same street that we live on about a mile down the road. The funniest part is when I was fretting, stewing, and waiting around for Brown Mackie to call back yesterday, Cincinnati State called to say they wanted an interview. I did a phone interview this morning and they hired me on the spot. I guess it was meant to be. CSCC is a really nice facility with a great library, gym, pool, athletic teams, and clean classrooms. It definitely seems like the place I want to be. They said that in addition to teaching two English courses this fall I could also pick up some extra hours in the writing lab. Best of all, the people who interviewed me seemed genuinely nice and happy to talk to me.

So Good I Can't Pick It Up

I've owned the new Harry Potter book since Saturday. I'm on page 34. I do think the book is pretty good so far, but I'm a little scared to see if my worst fears about Snape will be confirmed. My book 6 is damaged from when I threw the it across the room. That's when I found out Dumbledore was "dead". Also, and I'm going to go out on a limb here and criticise Rowling, I think ever since book 4 all of the books have started out a tad slow. *wince* Comment if you must. I'm sure the fault actually falls on my 1st grade level reading comprehension or my lack of imagination and not on the writing skills of the author.

I did buy the book on Saturday, but I didn't start reading it until yesterday because I had to prepare for my second job interview, which did not turn out perfectly by any means. At the end of the interview yesterday, I was told that I would hear back by the end of the day either way it turned out. I'm still waiting on a phone call. Oh well, I'm not going to die if I don't get this job. I'm just going to keep applying and get a better one. Failure is not fatal. Like that saying? I heard it yesterday on the ride back from Cincinnati when we were listening to conservative talk radio. I hate conservative talk radio, and I almost hate myself for listening to it. Those guys are such terrible jerks and I always want to turn the station, but I keep listening because I want to see what awful or absurd statement they say next. Anyway, one guy said, "failure is not fatal" in the context of a bad job interview, bad grade, broken heart, that kind of thing. It was the only statement I happened to agree with the entire time I listened to that station. So, we'll see what happens. I'll be sure to let you know when I find out.

Apartment Found

David and I went to Cincinnati yesterday for my job interview and to look for an apartment. The apartment we found is so cool and I can't wait to move in. First, our building is in Cincinnati's Gaslight district. This district is the artistic, bohemian center of the city. We will live three buildings down from an independent movie theater, across the street from a branch of the library, and a short walk from a beautiful park. Our street is lined with ethnic restaurants, interesting boutiques, and cool coffee houses. We are also just a couple of buildings away from a grocery store. And we live very close to UC's campus. Our apartment has wood floors, a beautiful fireplace, large closets, and a huge balcony. If you are interested in looking at pictures of our apartment, click here. The only drawback is that the kitchen is smaller than the one we have now! But it's just such a neat place.

My job interview went really well. I interviewed at 1:00 and by 6:00 they had called me back for a second interview. So next Monday I'll go back to Cincinnati and give a 15-20 minute mock lesson to the English faculty of the college. I'll be teaching on the "critical elements of personal narrative". After that, I'll know whether or not I have the job. Wish me luck!

No News is Good News

I don't watch the news that often. We don't have cable, so that keeps me blissfully unaware most of the time. I read the newspaper semi-regularly, but it's not the same as the non-stop news blitz on the TV. Well today David and I went over to my parents' house to check our email. Actually, I usually drop him off at the McAllister center and he works out while I go to my parents' house one block away, and he meets me there after his workouts.

Anyway, while he was checking his email I decided to turn on my parents' TV and it was on CNN. The first story I see is an uplifting little ditty about a seven year old boy who is getting a face transplant. He has silicone implants in his cheeks so his skin will stretch out over other parts of his face. The skin around his eyes is so tight that I don't think the poor thing can blink. Why is this boy getting a face transplant? Oh, because a flesh eating bacteria ate his face off. It ate his whole face off. How did this boy come to be infected with a flesh eating bacteria? Was he slashing his way through the rainforest? Nope. Was he playing around at a hazardous waste site? No. He bumped his lip while playing basketball with his friends. And he got his face eaten off. I called to David in the other room and told him all about it. He replied, "See, that just goes to show you that you shouldn't worry about such things because no one knows when or how they will happen". I'm a hypochondriac by the way. To me, this story meant just the opposite: I should live in a bubble and bathe in Purell because you never know when or how these things will happen.

Next story up- A huge toothpaste recall. Anyone who has any toothpaste made in China (this includes all the major American brands) should throw it out because it could have poison in it. Specifically, it has an ingredient in it that is usually reserved for non-mouth cleansing items like antifreeze. So now I'm freaking out because I don't know if our ghetto Pepsodent toothpaste has poison in it or if I'll even have a mouth to use it on because of some crazy flesh eating bacteria.

At this point David told me that I should not under any circumstances watch the news. And I know this is pretty much true. I am a sucker for sensationalism. A couple of years ago he said I shouldn't watch Dateline or 20/20 because every time I did I became convinced that I would die under mysterious circumstances or be stricken with a rare but fatal form of cancer or both. So I guess I'll just stick to reading the newspaper for now. Did I mention that just yesterday I was reading that the parents of a 15 year old Indian boy were arrested because they let their child perform a C-section on one of their patients?

Just Another Day at Work

I'm pretty much convinced that I work on the set of a sitcom and I haven't been made aware of it yet. The following is what happened the last time I went to take notes in a COM class at the community college where I work. First, I need to say that I love the girl who I take notes for and her sister is also really cool. I don't have any problems with them. I even think we could be friends. It's just some of the other students... well, you'll see.

Last Com class, the teacher wanted to show students how to make an outline for an informative speech. He decided to pick the topic of travel and vacation destinations, and then asked the kids what locations they would want to go for vacation. Remember, I'm just there to take notes. So the first person raises their hand and yells out, "The Superbowl"! The Superbowl? I had no idea the Superbowl was a place that had its own zip code and everything. Neither did the teacher because he didn't write it down. The second person yells out, "Mardi Gras". Again, I didn't know Mardi Gras was a place where you could live. This one was a little more forgivable because Mardi Gras and New Orleans are almost synonymous, but still. After a couple of legitimate locations, another person yelled out, "Costa Rica". One second later the girl behind me starts yelling "why would you want to go there!! That's where they cut off people's legs and sell them for diamonds"! Perhaps I should have expected it from this girl because in the last class she asked the teacher how to talk to black people without offending them because, "sometimes I try to give them a compliment and they just get mad". Anyway, she keeps yelling, "Costa Rica is where they cut off people's legs for diamonds"! At this point I am biting my tongue to keep from laughing, and she's getting more and more indignant because someone wants to take a vacation where they chop people's legs off for diamonds. The teacher is avoiding her all together and moving on to other people's suggestions while she is still raving. At this point I turned around and said, "That's not Costa Rica, It's Sierra Leone". After saying this I felt really stupid because as far as I know Sierra Leone does not have a diamonds for legs trade. They have a diamonds for arms trade, but that is something entirely different. I wanted to tell her that people do chop off other people's limbs, but it is used as a way to make others submit, not as a means of currency. She seemed to shut up though, so I didn't go on. Other students keep calling out destinations and one older lady said she would like to go to Rome. Upon this, the girl behind me said that she thinks Rome is totally overrated. I don't know how she knows this, but I'm willing to be that she's never been there. What was her suggestion for a vacation? Las Vegas. That's right, Rome is totally overrated when there are slots to play.

After about 15 destinations, the teacher had the class take a vote, and the top three destinations would become the three main points of the speech. Vote number 1: The Bahamas. Vote number 2: Hawaii. Vote number 3: Australia. Now I love the beach as much as any other girl with blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin and a frighteningly high number of relatives with skin cancer, but this was a little ridiculous. That became even more apparent when the class had to give reasons for wanting to visit each place. It sounded a little something like this: beaches, swimming, fishing, shopping, beaches, swimming, fishing, shopping, beaches, swimming, fishing, shopping. So essentially all three locations were boiled down to beach activities without a mention of any cultural offerings, museums, art, etc that each place might have. I don't get it. I like the beach but not enough to it make my top three vacation destinations.

From this little glimpse, I hope you can see how fun and funny is it at my job. I'm gonna miss it when I have to move.

Jr. Update

The doctor's say that our little Anthony is starting to recover from his intestine surgery and things look pretty good. Talk about a miracle. His breathing hasn't been doing to well lately as they have bumped him up to 38-45 percent oxygen. The doctors say it's a little higher than they would like (he's usually at 25% oxygen) but that his lungs only show signs of immaturity and not signs of serious lung complications. My brother and sister-in-law just got the bill for Anthony Jr's two week stay at Home hospital:124,000 dollars!!! Luckily the bill is taken care of and they don't have to pay for it. I'm interested to see what the bill for a three month stay at St. Vincent's NICU will be. The baby also "opened his eyes" a couple of days ago. I put the opened his eyes in quotations because his eyes have been open for a couple of weeks now. However, his eyes used to be all black, and then over night his eyes changed to blue and look like regular eyes. Of course, his eye color could change, but it's nice to see them whatever color they are.

Now for other baby related news. Today right after Mass I was hanging out in the church with my dad because it's Father's Day and I wanted to see him. While beside him, a very nice parishioner, who we've known for years and will remain nameless, passed by, and my father flagged her down. He wanted to show her the newest pictures of Anthony Jr. Well, after ooohing and ahhing over the pictures, she turns to me and says, "how many months early did you have the baby"? After picking my jaw up from off the floor, I remarked that I don't have any children and that the pictures were of my nephew. I then suffered through the most awkward couple of minutes of small talk in my life while my dad was speaking to this woman's husband. Sigh. It's depressing to know that I look postpartum. No offense to any stunning and dazzling postpartum women out there reading this post. I think I'll hit the pilates tomorrow. At least Father Vath hasn't started to bless my gut when I go up for communion.

celebrity look-alikes

I thought this was a pretty neat little thing.

Babies, Babies, Babies, and Bees

This was a baby filled weekend.

On Saturday I went to visit Anne and Charles in the hospital. Charles is one cute baby. Notice I didn't say cute and "little". That's because Anne gave birth to a giant baby. I won't post the weight because Anne might want to tell you all about it herself, and I don't want to get in trouble with a new mama. However, if you do want to see the weight, go to Christine's blog. Oh, and if you want to see pictures of this darling baby, go to Laura's blog. Anne and Charles are both doing fine.

Later that night David and I went to see Knocked Up. As you might have guessed from the title, this movie is about a woman who has an unexpected pregnancy. The movie uses crude humor, drug humor, nudity, and a constant stream of the f-bomb, and yet I loved it. The reason is that despite all the vulgarity, the movie has an overwhelming pro-life message. At every turn it reinforces that even in the most undesirable circumstances, an unborn child still deserves to live. That, and I did think the movie was pretty funny. I don't think all that pro-life stuff was just wishful thinking or reading too much in to it on my part. If any of you see it, you'll have to tell me what you thought. Don't say I didn't warn you about all the cusses though.

Then, on Sunday I finally got to meet my nephew. David and I went down to St. Vincent's with my parents and we met my brother and sister-in-law there. Leah and I went in first because only two people are allowed to see him at a time and one of those people has to be the parent. Well, I was just overwhelmed with emotion when I saw Anthony Jr. He is even smaller than I imagined and he is so precious. You can tell that he doesn't like visitors a lot because when you look in his incubator he covers his face with his little hands and starts to squirm. If you visit him for too long his heart rate will drop and that's pretty much how he lets you know that he's had enough of you. The only bad part about it is that when it happens the doctors have to come over and breath for him until his heart rate comes back up. I would love to see Anthony Jr. again and I think about him all the time, but I would hate to cause his heart rate to drop like that again. It's just that my mother wanted us to meet the baby once in case the unthinkable happens. We had to wait about an hour for the baby's heart rate to stabilize before David could go in with my brother. It's funny, but when David came back he said that the baby was bigger than he imagined, which was the exact opposite of my reaction. I describe the baby this way: Imagine a 20 fl oz water bottle with thick pens for arms and legs. That's how small he is. When we were leaving the NICU David noticed a "lactation booth", which is a room that women, well you know what it's for. Anyway, when the room is open, it has a little sign in English and in Spanish saying so. When we passed this room it in fact was open so the sign said, "Lactation Booth: Open Abra". Well, David noticed this, pointed it out and said, "lactation booth: open a bra, hahahahahahaha". My mom thought it was hilarious and even my dad cracked a smile.

After all the babies this weekend, it's not surprising that David has come down with a pretty bad case of Baby Fever. Because of my own experience, graduate school, and Leah and Anthony's experience with Anthony Jr., until recently my baby temperature has been at about 32 degrees. But since I've graduated from school, my temperature has risen to about 98.6, so I'm at normal right now. Normal. We'll see what happens, but I'll predict trying for a baby before year's end. So I know that will make some people happy.

Oh, and now for the bees. Well, most of you know how we had a bat fly in though an open window in our bedroom a couple of weeks back. If you don't, scroll down through a couple of posts and you can get the whole story. We made sure to close that window so that a bat wouldn't fly through again. But there is still a problem with the window where the screen doesn't meet the glass correctly. Normally that wouldn't be a problem because even if something flew in though the gap, it wouldn't make it through the glass when the window is closed. Or so we thought. The window was closed, but we have those old fashioned locks where when you turn the window lock it leaves a little hole. So here's what happened. A swarm of bees, a swarm, not two or three but fifty bees, flew through the gap between the outside screen and the glass, and then flew up to the little hole by the window lock, evidently waited in line and came in three at a time (because the hole is not that big) and then started swarming around the room. Luckily I was at work because if I had been home I would have done something stupid like call 911 or scream incoherently or both. But David was home. Not only was he home, he was in the bedroom reading a book! He heard a buzzing sound by the window and looked to see these bees flying in. He dropped his book, ran to the kitchen to get some ant spray because it was either that or Windex, and started spraying it at the bees. In his running shorts. That is all the clothing he had on. Running shorts. Just imagine that for a second. My husband in his running shorts spraying ant spray wildly at an obviously homicidal swarm of bees. But it worked! He killed all the bees and wasn't stung even once. I was telling my friends Kristin and Jocelyn about this, and Jocelyn said that if anything else weird happens in our apartment, don't even bother calling the landlord, just call an exorcist. I'm beginning to think she's got the right idea.

Summertime Routine

Everything has been pretty mundane lately. I'm beginning to think that funny things only happen to me at school. I usually wait to update until something funny has happened to me. Well, nothing has lately. I don't have any antics to relate, so I guess I'll just give a boring life update.

I've been sleeping in until about 10:30 every morning.

David and I are on a new diet/ health plan called "The Schwarzbein Principal". An Endocrinologist who is evidently obsessed with her name came up with it. She's written about four books and they all have "Schwarzbein" in the title. In all seriousness, she pretty much advocates the things your grandmother tells you to do. You can't skip meals, you have to eat a balance of protein, carbs, veggies, and healthy fats, and you need to keep your blood sugar balanced. You do this by eating five times a day instead of three. Her theory is that most people have a damaged metabolism. If you repair your metabolism, you will automatically burn enough calories to attain or stay at an ideal body weight in addition to becoming super healthy. You cannot have sugar, fake sugar, alcohol, tobacco, or caffeine while on this diet. So, I automatically hated it from the start. I pretty much thought I was going to die. But eating five meals a day full of healthy stuff really does keep down my cravings for bad stuff. The only drawback is that I feel like half our life is devoted to cooking and shopping. Ol' Schwarzy, as I call the doctor who wrote this plan, says people with fairly healthy metabolisms can heal in about 1-3 months, so I'm hoping I'm in that category. I don't know why though. Ol' Schwarzy says that you can 't go back to your old ways after you are healed or you'll just ruin your metabolism again. So it looks like I'm on the straight and narrow. Sigh. I've never really liked the straight and narrow.

David and I are also in the middle of watching the top 50 movies of all time. We receive this travel magazine that we don't subscribe to called the Conde Nast. I think anyone who leaves the country for a trip automatically receives it. David and I like to call it the Conde Nasty or just The Nasty. I know, we're geniuses. Anyhow, I was looking through it one day to see what the top 100 snorkeling destinations are or something equally stupid. As I was looking, I came across this advertisement for Kettle One Vodka. The ad started, "Dear Kettle One Vodka Drinker". My eyes lit up at this because this was a couple of weeks ago before I cleaned myself up, got saved, and went on the Schwarzbein Principal. The rest of the ad read, "Are these the top 50 films of all time?" So, I ripped the list out and we've been watching the movies ever since. Granted, the list does ask whether the movies are top 50, and I'm not sure what sources compiled the list, so there are some crap movies on the list. However, most of them seem good. Our favorites so far are Chinatown and Deer Hunter. Our least favorite is 2001: A Space Odyssey. By the way, if I had said that title instead of written it, I would have called it a Space Oddity because I love David Bowie and always get the titles mixed up. Now, I don't care what you say about this movie. It was crap. I've heard a lot of people say that 2001 was an "important" movie. What this usually means is that some pretentious bastard made a piece of shit movie and people are too afraid of being called philistines to say so. Other people have said that I didn't get the point of the movie. No, I got the point. I understand. It's just that the point is stupid, the script is terrible, the acting is worse, and Stanley Kubric is a pretentious bastard. We're having fun watching the movies anyway. The best part is that all the older movies at Family Video are either two for a dollar or a dollar.

Let's see, hmmm. Besides sleeping a lot, being on a diet, and watching our movies, there's not much more.

Baby Update

I just want to give all of you an update on baby Anthony.

On Wednesday Anthony Jr. was rushed to St. Vincent's in Indianapolis because his intestine ruptured and he was dying. The doctors did surgery and told my brother and his wife it would take nothing short of a miracle for Anthony Jr. to even make it through the night. Well, the first miracle was achieved, many thanks in part to your prayers, because Anthony Jr. is alive but in critical condition. The doctors say that his intestine has to show signs of healing before they can upgrade his condition. If his intestine does not start to heal the doctors say he will die. To make matters worse, the little hole the baby has in his heart is impeding the healing process and his recovery from the surgery. Therefore, Anthony Jr. will undergo another surgery next week to repair the hole in his heart. This is extremely serious because the doctors must do the surgery even though they aren't sure how much more stress the baby's body can take.

Please, I beg you to keep Anthony Jr. and my family in your prayers. The situation is quite dire.

First, Outside, Inside, Last?

I'm working at Ivy Tech this summer as a writing tutor and a monitor at the Learning Resource Center. Because it's the summer semester, there is hardly anyone around to ask for writing assistance. This means that my main responsibility is to monitor the LRC. I have to do things like receive faxes from a machine I don't know how to work, give students directions to classrooms I've never seen, replace toner on a copier I've never been trained to use, and handle phone calls on subjects which I know nothing about. So really, as you might have guessed, my job boils down to the following phrase: "Um.. could you come back tomorrow between the hours of 8-5? Someone will be able to answer your question then." The rest of the time I watch youtube and write blogs and get paid pretty damn well to do it. I'm doing that right now as a matter of fact. Now, I'm a really good English tutor and I like doing it, but I suck at all this other stuff. I would feel bad about my inability to "monitor" the LRC except for the fact that no one has ever trained me how to do it. So, I just wing it. And because I do such exceptional work, I've been asked to take on more responsibilities.

Starting Thursday I'll be taking notes for a deaf woman here at the school. Her sister sits in on the class and signs to her while I write down the things that the teacher says. So basically she has a team of people working with her. And I think that's great. Opportunities for handicapped people have come such a long way. My only concern is why I have been chosen to do this job. I've never worked with disabled people in my life. I don't know all the PC things I have to do when I talk to her, I'm not sure if I say deaf or hearing impaired, I don't know anything. And I'm willing to bet there won't be any training. Now, I'm not one of those people who can't do anything without being told exactly how to do it, but I do need a little info sometimes. Oh, and here's the kicker. Guess what class I'm taking notes for? Math 131-Algebra and Trigonometry. If you know me at all, you'll be on the floor gaging with laughter. I am terrible at math. The only class I failed in college was math, and I think the math I took was easier than the stuff I'll be taking notes for. So I'm a little nervous. I keep telling myself, "Monica, it's okay. You're smart enough to recognize the important parts and write it down, even if you don't understand it." And that's true. I just have to write stuff down. It's not like I have to tutor her in the subject. I just which I had known what class I had signed on for before I said I would be a note taker. I haven't had a math class in three years, and I'm firmly convinced that the only reason why I passed that class was because I said a memorare right before the final. (Thank you, BVM!) All I remember from that class is FOIL. First, outside, inside, last! First, outside, inside, last! My plan is to just write FOIL down in the notes if I miss something. Actually, I'm going to try very hard to take the most comprehensive notes possible because I really do want to help this person, but I sure am nervous. Oh well, I guess I can add another line to my resume now. Sheesh. I'll let all of you know how it goes.

fitness plan, wedding anniversary, and wedding reception

I've been out of school now for a couple of weeks and can only say that I'm getting dumber and chubbier every minute I've been out. During the summer I usually commit myself to getting fit, but for some reason I just can't get myself to do it this time. I'm going to force myself to do Pilates tomorrow and then go to Jazzercise. I hope this will jump start my summer fitness program. All the graduation parties and my wedding anniversary these past couple of weeks have not done a thing for my waistline. As for the getting dumber thing, I'm not sure anything can save me. Just yesterday I had to ask David what the genitive singular personal pronoun was for 3rd person in Latin. It's "eius" by the way. But it was really disturbing because I have taught that very pronoun to people for the past two years. I predict that by the end of the summer I will only be able to read at Dr. Seuss level. Maybe that's not so bad. I mean, the guy's a doctor. I don't know what he got his PhD in. Perhaps it was rhyming. I've heard that Whoville University has a really competitive program in rhyme. Or maybe Dr. Seuss is actually a cardiac surgeon. I don't know. The point is that I'm getting stoopid. I don't think there is any help for my fitness or intellectual situation. Bummer.

I did mention in passing that David and I had our wedding anniversary recently. It was on the 20th to be precise. I woke up with a bit of an anniversary headache from a wedding and reception I went to the day before. (more on that later) It was nothing some Advil and Gatorade couldn't fix. Anyhow, we woke up and David made an anniversary smoothie while I made an anniversary cup of tea. Then we went to anniversary mass and came home and took an anniversary nap. Afterwards, we had an anniversary steak dinner, went anniversary bowling, and then watched an anniversary movie. And yes, we did refer to all of these things as our anniversary this and that. It got pretty funny by the end of the night. We even extended it to the next day when David and I went anniversary golfing with Peter. Being married is pretty fun for the most part, and I give my first year of marriage two thumbs up.

Now, on to the wedding from the night before. I went to a wedding of some people I hardly know because one of my friends asked me to be her guest. The wedding was at Blessed Sacrament, or what I've heard an Irishman call "Our Lady of the Mothership" for its interesting architecture that I guess resembles a flying saucer. Its not my favorite Catholic church in town but they do have a great devotion to St. Monica there. I'm not going to critique the wedding or anything, but I'll say that it was pretty "mod" and they didn't even have communion even though both people getting married were Catholic. Weird. Weird and fishy actually.

Anyhow, we only found out a couple of days before that the reception that we thought was going to have an open bar was really going to be as dry as one of those cow skulls you see out in the desert. That would be fine, but Kristin, Brett, Jocelyn, and I all wanted to dance. And being from the socio-econnomic and ethnic backgrounds that we are from, (white, middle class kids with Irish, Sweedish and Hungarian roots, respectively) we cannot dance without alcohol. So I borrowed David's three flasks, filled them with Bacardi, stuck them in my purse, put the rest of the booze in Kristin's trunk, and entered the reception. This was all with the bride's permission, by the way. Then we ordered our cokes, went to the bathroom, poured our alcohol in them and proceeded to get a healthy but modest buzz. Then the flasks ran out, so we decided to go out to the car to fill up again. This was our fatal flaw. We took our cokes outside, filled them up with booze and came back in. But before we could get back to the reception hall we were stopped by the EXCISE POLICE!!!!!!!!!!! The man showed us his badge and asked us if we had any alcohol in our drinks. By this time I was buzzing pretty hard, so I contemplated either drinking my rum and coke really fast and asking him "what drink?", or just flat out telling him "no." But more sober heads prevailed and Kristin told him "yes." So this jerk confiscates our drinks and lectures us about how the hotel could be fined and blah, blah, blah. I thought this was ridiculous because we could have stepped three feet to the right of the officer and gone to the hotel bar, had 20 beers, and walked right back into the reception hall if we wanted to. A couple of days later when I was telling this story to Mrs. Schafer, she asked me who the excise police were, and I told her that they were people who wanted to prevent other people from having fun at wedding receptions. And I still partly hold to that.

Anyhow, the rest of the reception was pretty boring because the DJs played really lame music. I asked one of the DJs to play "2 Legit 2 Quit" because my friend Kris was there and he and I have some history with Hammer. Well (and I'm not kidding) when I requested the song, the DJ gave me this look like, "we don't play that kind of music." And she was from Kentucky. If she had a problem with Hammer, I would have hated to see her face if I had had a lot to drink and requested "Push It" as I have at other receptions. Basically, that was my wedding reception/slash run-in with the cops experience.

Later on we did go to the hotel bar with the rest of the wedding party where I witnessed my debit card being stolen. I promptly walked up to the girl, looked at her with my debit card in her hand, took it out of her hand, said "thank you" and walked away. I also had my hand crushed by the mother of the groom that night. She walked up to me in the bar and said in a really crappy tone, "how do you know my son?" Well, I was scared because technically I don't know him. After I had explained, she shook my hand and squeezed it really hard for a really long time, and it hurt like hell. So many other little things happened that night, but I think this post has gone on long enough. So I'm just going to end it here.

Precious little baby

Here is another picture of Anthony Jr. and my mother's hand. Look at how small his foot is!! I hope I get to meet him soon. We're trying to think of a nickname for the baby since my brother's name is Anthony too. Alexander wants to call him AJ, for Anthony Junior. I think that name is so boring. I want to call him Ace, you know like how Father Miller calls guys Ace? If I don't get to call him Ace I'm just going to call him Anthony. I suppose I should ask my brother and Leah what they think.

Baby pic

Here is a picture of Anthony Jr. I hope to have more soon. Please keep up the prayers.

New Baby

My nephew, Anthony Ross Arnett Jr., was born today. He weighs 15.5 ounces and is 11 inches long. He has already been baptized and the doctors say he is healthy and happy. Obviously he has a long road ahead of him until he gets out of the hospital, but things look good so far. I can't wait to meet him, but I know that I'll have to wait a while. I'll try to post pictures when I can. Thanks for all your prayers!!!

Going Batty

Well, the semester ended Friday and I thought that I would be able to sleep in after that. But Saturday I had to get up early to exercise. Sunday we were in Ft. Wayne visiting David's parents. Monday we had to get up early to go back to Lafayette. Tuesday I was woken up by the mutant children down the street. So I thought I would finally get a good night's sleep last night. I opened the window so the breeze would blow in and keep me cool. Well, I didn't know this, but there is a space where the window frame and the screen do not meet perfectly and leaves a crack.(Surprise! Something wrong with a Godby apartment!)Anyhow, as I was just about to fall asleep David lunged awake and said, I think there's a bird in our room. Sure enough there was something flying quickly in circles near the ceiling of our room. However, this "bird" was really a bat!!!!I immediately turned into a girly girl, squealed, covered my entire body with the blanket and told David to go get it. The bat flew out of our room and into the living room with David in hot pursuit. I spent the next half hour covered in bed while David was out in the living room throwing bean bags at the bat, which had perched itself on the woodwork of our high ceilings. I think the bat was probably laughing.

David said the bat would not leave the living room and the best thing to do would be to close the bedroom door, go to sleep, and get the bat in the morning. Well, our bedroom door does not close correctly (again, big surprise). In order for it to close all the way, you have to put your entire body weight into it and then when it closes, the seal is almost air tight. David did this and we tried to get back to sleep. Unbeknownst to us, the bat had actually flown back in our room and we shut it in. About a half hour later, David lunged awake again and we saw the bat doing circles around the room. David wrenched the door open, which was hard to do, and let the bat out again. By this time I'm freaking out. I completely covered myself with the blanket and told David to go get the bat. I told David to get the broom and get the bat out that way. David chased the bat to our entryway where he swatted at it for about a half hour. He said he had to jump and swat with the broom at the same time because the bat was flying so high. Damn those high ceilings! He finally got a direct hit and stunned the bat enough that it fell to the floor and did not move. David then swept the bat out of the apartment and on the the front porch where he flew away a couple of minutes later. Then we finally were able to get some sleep.

So, to make a long story short, we will be getting an AC this summer instead of leaving the windows open, and I will try again tonight and tomorrow morning to get a good night's sleep.

Prayers Needed!!!

Dear Friends,

As some of you know, my sister-in-law, Leah, is pregnant. She has recently had problems with her blood pressure skyrocketing because of a problem with her blood vessels that she did not know she had before she was pregnant. This extremely high blood pressure is called preeclampsia. When preeclampsia occurs it disrupts blood flow to the placenta and the baby can't get enough nutrients to grow. Her Preeclampsia has gotten so bad that she has to be in the hospital until she delivers the baby. The problem is that she is only 23 weeks pregnant and the doctors say it is doubtful that she will even make it to 28 weeks before they have to induce. If they don't induce it is possible that both Leah and the baby could die from the high blood pressure. Of course, if they induce too early, it is still possible that the baby could die because he is so small. He only weighs 12 ounces right now. I am so scared and I know the rest of my family is too. Please, please, please pray for my brother, my sister-in-law, and my unborn nephew, even if it's just one small, quick prayer.

Finals week update

I have written 48 pages in the last eight days. I did not have any of my papers started as of last tuesday night. I'm going a little crazy. If I have spoken to you in the past couple of days and have seemed a little um....out of it or perhaps crazed, this is why. For the past two days I've had an on again off again headache in the back, top left side of my head. My vision has been bluring a little when I sit down to look at the computer. I think all of this is just due to strain on my eyes, but who knows? Maybe I have a paper induced tumor. But it will all be over tomorrow when I turn in the last eight pages of my college paper writing career. This will bring my page count up to 56 pages in nine days. I know that doesn't sound like much when you average it out to 6.222222222222222222222222222 pages a day,but believe me it was a lot. I'm not promising these papers are masterpieces, but I think they do meet and fill the requirements asked of me, and that's all I care about right now.

The Best Part of Wakin' Up

As my next door neighbor and good friend Anne explained a couple of posts ago on her blog, we live in an interesting neighborhood. In fact, my all time favorite rap group, Bone Thugs N Harmony, might describe our neighborhood as a little "thuggish ruggish". I don't know what this means, but I've heard them say it in a number of their songs, and I take it to mean some sort of descriptive term for a 'hood or one's way of life. Now, it's not like we live in inner-city Chicago or even or even inner-city FT. Wayne for that matter. Just kidding David. But we do live in "Godbyville", a one block string of old houses that were converted to apartments and owned by people named Godby. It's in North Central Lafayette, or NCL, as all my home fries like to call it. Anyhow, you could guess that these apartments might draw people who live the "thuggish ruggish" lifestyle. And they do. Lately, there has been a couple who can't seem to agree on anything. And when they can't agree, the man seems to think that he should solve the problem by going outside and yelling as loud as he can. The worst part is that this usually happens at 7:00 am. Who has the energy to have a fight at 7:00 am? And usually fights don't break down into yelling for at least a half an hour, so this means that these people started fighting at 6:30. They must just wake up, roll over, and start fighting.

Well, the last little disturbance went something like this:

Woman- something inaudible from inside apartment
Man- (from outside apartment) Fuck you too! I've been too nice to you.

That's how I woke up Monday morning, so at first I wasn't thinking very nice things about this man. Yet, the more I started thinking about the rules of etiquette, I realized that this was probably a very proper gentleman. Let's review! I got all these rules from a social etiquette website.

1. Be Polite

Remember when you are in a social situation it is important to always be polite and respectful of other guests even if you vehemently disapprove of certain comments or other individuals are not being polite.

This guy did mention that he had been "too nice", which is firm evidence of his politeness.

2. Personal space

Allowing individuals their personal space is important in all conversations, but especially in social etiquette conversation. This allows you to seem interested, polite and respectful of the other individual which are all social requirements.

This guy was allowing plenty of personal space. He was all the way outside.

3.Keep it Short

In social situations it is always important to understand the nature of social etiquette conversation and keep conversations short and socialize with everyone present. If you have a long, in depth conversation with certain individuals they might be resentful because they are interested in exchanging pleasantries with everyone in attendance.

This man kept it to two sentences.

4. Keep Words Simple and Understandable

During the course of a conversation, it is proper to ensure that each sentence or phrase that a speaker would deliver is understood. A listener will normally ask questions from time to time. This means that there are points in the message that he does not readily understand meaning that further explanation of some meanings and implications must be clarified before the speaker is to go on and deliver the entire message.

Fuck. You. Too. I think that's understandable enough.

5. Volley the Conversation

Good conversation is a volley, a tennis volley. You say something, and they will say something, back and forth. Neither of you should hog the conversation.

It is obvious from the "too" in the man's statement that he was just trying to volley the conversation back to the woman.

This man followed the major rules of conversation etiquette, so you can imagine my surprise when I went out to catch the bus and found a police car in front of his apartment. I guess some people just don't appreciate good and proper conversation.

News from Benedict XVI

In the Holy Father's recent apostolic exhortation, entitled Sacramentum Caritatis, we read again how he is trying to restore the use of liturgical Latin and Gregorian chant:

In order to express more clearly the unity and universality of the Church, I wish to endorse the proposal made by the Synod of Bishops, in harmony with the directives of the Second Vatican Council, that, with the exception of the readings, the homily and the prayer of the faithful, it is fitting that such liturgies be celebrated in Latin. Similarly, the better-known prayers of the Church's tradition should be recited in Latin and, if possible, selections of Gregorian chant should be sung. Speaking more generally, I ask that future priests, from their time in the seminary, receive the preparation needed to understand and to celebrate Mass in Latin, and also to use Latin texts and execute Gregorian chant; nor should we forget that the faithful can be taught to recite the more common prayers in Latin, and also to sing parts of the liturgy to Gregorian chant. (http://xprex.stblogs.org/)

All I have to say is YAY! I wonder how Ol' Higi is going to squirm his way out of this one.

On a side note- I've just finished one paper and have two more to go.

April Showers

This is perhaps one of the worst spring days to decide to wear sandals. I tried to tell myself today that if I approach my pain and suffering, no matter how slight, with the right attitude, then I would benefit from it. That attitude being that Christ suffered and died for all my sins and the sins of all the world. Therefore, I should be able to walk through a couple of big puddles with half shod feet,and perhaps give this suffering up to Christ. Therefore, my commute from one campus building to another today has been filled with stoic teeth clenching punctuated by frantic sissy squeals and shivers. I'm such a wimp.

Monica's Intrigue and Espionage Quiz

Well, finals week is coming soon and this will probably be my last post for a week or two. I want to talk today about the qualities that would make one a good spy, or conversely, a good bad guy. This is inspired by the new James Bond flick, Casino Royale. It is one of my favorite Bond movies of all time and certainly better than anything that smarmy Pierce Brosnan did. The chase scene at the beginning of this movie was particularly cool. With that being said, I present to you Monica's Intrigue and Espionage Quiz: Casino Royale style.

How do you know if you would make a good spy? There are several questions one must ask themselves when considering a career in espionage. For example-

Do you have a chiseled face and even more chiseled abs?

Do you find that people want to have sex with you wherever you go?

Have you ever been in multiple car chases and or crashes in the same day?

Have you ever had to difibrillate yourself because some stone cold fox poisoned your martini?

Have you ever engaged in a fist fight, gun battle, or swordplay with a Russian? Did you win?

Are you good at poker?

Have you saved more than three structures from blowing up? Alternately, have you blown up more than three structures?

Do you have a totally, totally, totally, awesome car? Does it have weapons attached to it?

If you answered "yes" to 4 of these questions, you might make a good spy. If you answered "yes" to 6 or more of these questions, you are probably already a spy.

Now let's see if you would make a good bad guy-

Are you French?

Do you fund international terrorists (those who buy Heinz products excluded)?

Do you have an eye problem? Problems can include excessive tearing, a patch, astigmatism, etc.

Are you good at math?

Even though you are kind of ugly, do you have an extremely hot wife who stays out all hours of the night?

Do you go by your last name even though your last name is really hard to pronounce?

Do you leave the only gun you own in the top drawer of your desk even though you know people are constantly trying to kill you?

Is it true that all your friends and family really know about your job is that you "help people do things"?

Has anyone ever put a tracking device in your asthma inhaler?

If you answered "yes" to 4 of these questions, you might be a bad guy. If you answered "yes" to six or more of these questions, you are definitely a bad guy.

I hope this little quiz had helped you sort out your place in life.

Sigh....

Sigh. That's all. Tuesday hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm totally bummin'

Shirley Homemaker... or whatever her name is

It is now my blogging style to look at neat little quizzes, tests, and series of questions from other people's blogs and then copy off of these people and put the same little tests on my own blog. It has no originality whatsoever. The following was inspired by, okay directly lifted from, Anne's blog. It's about what type of homemaker you are,or more likely how good you at being one. Prepare to be amazed!

Aprons- Y/N?
Yes, I do think they are restrictive and probably a modern form of a torture device invented by men to keep their wives in place. I assume that's what a question like "Aprons?" means. Right?

Baking- Favorite things to bake:
Um...Alaska. Yeah... baked Alaska

Clothesline-Y/N?
Not anymore... but when I was younger I used to do it to my brother all the time. My mom would always yell at me and tell me I was going to crush my brother's windpipe.

Donuts- Have you ever made them?
Yes, I actually have. When I was an undergraduate I used to frequent this coffee shop that was open 24/7, and it had a bunch of stoners who worked the late shifts. I befriended these people and at three or four in the morning they would let me and my friends come behind the counter to make the donuts that they would sell the next morning. It was good times!

Every day- One homemaking thing you do every day.
Well, like an AA member trying not to drink, I just try to take homemaking one day at a time. My daily homemaking task is to turn to comforter on the bed the right way before I go to sleep so my feet don't stick out in the middle of the night. This little task annoys David to no end. He can sleep with the blanket facing any direction.

Freezer- Do you have a separate deep freeze?
No, and our regular freezer is basically filled with "Lean Gourmet" frozen dinners.

Garbage Disposal- Y/N?
We don't have one but that really doesn't stop David and me from treating the sink like we do have one. I think that's what this question means. If it's asking if we take out the garbage, then yes, we do. And by "we" I mean David.

Handbook- What is your favorite homemaking resource?
Hmmm... I own so many homemaking handbooks that it's really hard to decide.

Ironing- Love it or hate it?
Well, I don't own an iron and I don't think you could call what I do with an iron actual "ironing." For me it's more like "wrinkle relocation." I always get rid of the wrinkles that were there initially but not without putting new ones elsewhere on the garment.

Junk Drawer- Y/N? Where is it?
Yes, usually it's the living room. The entire living room.

Kitchen: Design and Decorating-
I've tried to go with the bottles of alcohol and penguin cookie jar theme. I think I've pulled it off really well.

Love- what is your favorite part of homemaking?
The part where I clean the apartment and the next day it looks just as bad as it did the day before. It's like letting a ray of light into my heart.

Mop- Y/N?
I seriously thought at first that this question was asking if I owned one. I felt pretty good because I do. But then I realized that it was probably asking if I liked it or how often I do it. Considering that I've been using the mop bucket as a target to chip golf balls into the past couple of weeks, I would say that I don't mop very regularly according to normal standards.

Nylons- wash by hand or in the washing machine?
You can wash nylons?

Oven- Do you use the window or open the door to check?
Check what? Oh right, all the baked Alaska I've been baking. I'll go with door because I have no window light, but It's a really scary prospect. When David was at Wabash he had this homicidal oven that would not light when it was supposed to. It would just fill up with gas and then when he went to open the door the flame would light and massive fire balls would shoot out. It was like scenes from "Backdraft." So I'll probably always be worried about that until we live in a place with a new-ish oven.

Pizza- what do you put on yours?
Better question: "Pizza- what does this have to do with homemaking?" Well, I don't make any pizza because David is allergic to wheat and if I made a pizza for myself and he was around, it is very likely that he would have to go on antidepressants. When I go out with friends for pizza, I like pepperoni, onion, and mushroom.

Quiet- what do you do during the day to get a quiet moment-
I reflect on my inner goddess while facing toward Chicago, where Oprah lives.

Recipe box- Y/N?
I did own one once because I found that the plastic ones are a great place to keep my Latin vocab flash cards.

Style of House-
Um.. for what I currently live in? Think of Brideshead and then imagine the exact opposite.

Tablecloths and napkins- Y/N.
I won't touch any linens that have under a 300 thread count.

Under the sink- organized or toxic wasteland?
It's fine I think.

Vacuum- How many times per week?
I actually like to vacuum. The vacuum I have now is an old one that my mom gave to my brother and then my brother gave it to me. When Anthony gave it to me he said "I'm not sure if there's a bag in there." That was last summer and I've been too afraid to look. My aunt on the other hand owns one of those Dyson vacuums, which are like the Mercedes of vacuums. She told me how much it costs, and all I'm going to say is that it cost about as much as we payed for our truck.

Wash- how many loads of laundry do you do per week?
I'd say two loads every two weeks. We don't have a washing machine, so I go over to my parents on Saturdays when David is at work and do the laundry then.


X's- Do you keep a daily list of things to do that you cross off?
Yeah.. it usually looks something like this:
Wake up- check
Don't forget to teach Latin- check
Learn about something boring in my classes- check
Try not to vomit on the bus ride home- check mostly
Read or ignore excessive amounts of reading for my classes- check

Yard- Y/N. Who does what?
We don't have a yard, but we do have a little patch of grass outside our apartment. I usually chip golf balls out there (see mop question for further details) and David usually stays out of the "yard". The Godby's crazy maintenance man, Chris, does the mowing.

Zzz's- What is your last homemaking task for the day before going to bed?
Trying to straighten that aforementioned blanket so my feet aren't exposed to the cold.

Well, that was fun and pretty much true. I actually will be interested to see how my answers change in 5 years. Probably it will be mostly the same except for replacing the "classes routine" with the "yelling at the kids routine."

Paper Writing

On the last post I forgot to thank everyone who prayed for me about my MA exam. Thanks everyone!!! Now that that is over I have a false sense of relaxation setting in. I feel like everything is almost done even though I haven't started in on my three final papers yet, and I know I also have two final exams to prepare for. Today on the bus ride to campus I told Peter that I planned to write one paper this weekend, one paper next weekend, and one paper the following weekend. The papers are due on the 24th, 30th, and 2nd. Now that I've announced these plans, I had better get to it. Here are the papers I'll be writing and in this order:

1. Desiring the seen: "ocular proof" in Othello and Hamlet. This one is about how both Othello and Hamlet want postive visual confirmation before they act. Othello wants to see Desdimona cheat and Hamlet wants to be sure that the ghost he sees is real and that of his father.

2. Augustinian influence in John Donne's "An Elegy upon the Untimely Death of the Incomparable Prince Henry" This one is about how Donne takes directly from "City of God" to prove points about faith and reason in the face of catastrophic human events, such as the death of a future king.

3. Latin Calque phrases in Old English. This paper points out that when English was just forming, many phrases (especially religious and theological)were taken directly from Latin and translated word for word into Old English. Example- "Viri Dei" became "Godes Folces". This is a big deal because the Anglo Saxons could have just made up a new word or words for these phrases, but they didn't. They tried to fit Latin phrases into the same internal structure while changing the letters or morphemes in to Old English. It's pretty neat stuff.

So, that's what I'll be doing the next few weekends. Of course, I already have plans to play golf with David, Peter, and Dan this Friday, so my paper writing might have to suffer a little. I'm sure you can look for all of these papers on the list of bestsellers soon. More likely, if you ever need any help sleeping I'll send one of these papers over to you you'll be sleeping in no time.

Goin' Pro

I just received news yesterday that I did pass my MA exam. I guess that means that I'll finally have to leave school and go pro. Now I just have two 20 page papers and a 10 page paper to write and I'll be done!

Visual DNA and FOCUS test

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As you can see, I've copied off of Christine and David to give you my visual DNA. If you look at mine and compare it to David's, you can see that it looks like we have very little in common. This happens on every personality test we take. Take our FOCUS test for instance. That test is so dumb. If you're Catholic and engaged you have to take this test as part of your pre-marriage requirements. I knew David and I were ready to get married, but that test made it look like we barely knew each other. True, we got a 100% on parenting issues, but we also got some 50%'s too. Of course, the Neuliebs were getting married a week before us, so I asked them how their FOCUS test went. I think they were inducted into the FOCUS test hall of fame for their outrageously high score on everything. In fact, I think they now call it the Neulieb test. Just kidding Anne and Peter! Anyhow, I was upset about our scores at the time until I (with the help of Anne) came to the simple realization that David and I are just different people. I'm not the man version of him and he's not the woman version of me, and that's probably why we love each other so much. Oh, I did have one more realization about the focus test. They only make you take that test so that aside from the normal questions, they can slip in a couple of deal breaker questions like, "Has your finace ever hit you?", or "Do you consider murder a reasonable reaction for infidelity?" and the like. So if you've taken the focus test and would like to give your general reactions to your own scores, leave a comment.

MA exam and golf etiquette

I took my MA exam on Thursday and I'm glad to have it finished. I'm not willing to say I passed it because if I didn't pass, then I would look really stupid when I had to make a new post saying I failed my exam. The questions were a lot different than I thought they would be. I was expecting long intricate questions that would test my knowledge on not only the texts but also some smarmy theory to go along with it. Instead I got things like, "Many critics say that older literature cannot portray women as noble characters. Support or refute this claim by using examples from Ovid's Metamorphosis, a medieval work, and a renaissance work." This question struck me as really vague and kind of easy. And that's why I'm concerned I failed the exam. Either the question really was easy or I'm just too dumb to realize the complexities of such a quandary. I pick the latter.

Anyhow, the next day we went golfing for Peter's 22nd birthday. As some of you might know, I played golf in high school and enjoyed it very much. Our team was very good, but I was the worst player on the team. It's nice to get back to the sport and I'd like to play a lot over the summer. David likes playing, but he hates it when I try to tell him about golf etiquette. Golf is one of the only games that I know where you have to be nice or at least follow very strict conventions that make you look like you are being nice. For instance, you should never talk when someone else is getting ready to swing, you should always let a smaller or quicker group play through if you think you'll hold them up, you should always hold or pull the pin for the person who is putting first, always rake your footprints out of the sand trap, etc. Well, every time I try to tell David about these little rules, he just looks at me like I'm some overbearing rule freak who is too concerned with stuffy etiquette. All I'm saying is that I was taught these rules and got in trouble with my coach if he ever saw us breaking one of these rules, so sorry! Jeeze. And I haven't even told David about how you aren't supposed to stand in a person's "line" while putting. I think if I did, he would go bonkers. But really, it's not like I'm using my knowledge of golf rules to lord it over anyone. I just have the courage tell people about proper etiquette.

begging and pleading

Okay... So this isn't a real update. I going to use my own forum to beg and plead with all of my friends and anyone else who reads this blog to pray for me before I take my MA exam. The exam is this Thursday and um...I'm freaking out...just a little. I just made a 48 page study guide that I can go over until Thursday. Please...I know it's Lent and most of you have a lot of things to pray about, but please try to squeeze a couple of prayers in for me.

All about the Benjamin

Okay, in the past two days I have been criticized for not only updating my blog too slowly but also for not reading other people's blogs frequently enough. Sheesh.

I have had great plans to write about my love of literary (and TV) villains. I've also wanted to post on the very real problem of spiritual manipulation. I know it doesn't look like it from my blog, but I actually like to sit and ruminate on these topics before I write about them. Which brings me to the problem. I have had very little time to sit and ruminate about anything lately. And, unlike some people, I did not just jaunt off to some snooty colleges, so I cannot just throw up a post on how those visits went.

Well, I'm not going to talk to you today about villains or spiritual manipulation. Instead, I want to speak to you today about... Benjamin Franklin. I'm required to read this man's autobiography so that I might graduate college with a master's degree. I approached it with a certain degree of hesitation because most of the other reading on my list has been slow going, and that even counts the books that are in my area. So I opened the book last night and found that this is actually a great book and a really quick read. Franklin's style is fun and engaging. His life story reads more like an adventure novel, and I'm only at the part where he's 18 years old. Not only that, but from what I can tell, this guy is a nutcase. He wanted to leave home at 17 to move from Boston to Philadelphia. He was concerned that no boat would take him to Philadelphia alone because of his age. Therefore, he hatched an ingenious plot. Franklin had one of his friends tell a ship captain that he (Franklin) had knocked up a "naughty girl" and had to leave town ASAP. The captain, being a man of the sea, knew all too well about these kinds of scrapes and offered to take him to Philadelphia straight away. There he determined to set up a printing press, and he also made friends with people stranger than fiction.

Perhaps it's because I've been reading only classical and renaissance works for the past two or three years, or perhaps it's because Ben Franklin is just one of those guys who had an amazing life, but I am really enjoying this book. Maybe next I'll read some of Lincoln's speeches or something. All this time I have pushed off reading early American Lit. until I "retire." I've always seen it as kind of beneath the stuff I'm reading now, but who knows? Maybe I can add on early American Lit as a secondary area. That is, if I ever go on to get my PhD.

Un-funny Papers

I've found myself wondering about some weighty topics the past two weeks. For example, what does sectarian Muslim violence in the Middle East mean for the rest of the world? What kind of havoc will Hugo Chavez's socialism unleash on poor South American countries? Am I really serving God to the best of my abilities? But above all I've been pondering this extremely weighty issue: Why do our comics suck so bad? Every day I look, and every day they suck. I want to address this problem full force and list the main culprits in this void of jocularity. I do realize that Lafayette's newspaper or even the Indianapolis Star might not be at the height of comic revelry, and I also realize that there are probably some really cool underground comics I haven't heard about. But I think that syndicated comics have been on a decline ever since Bill Waterson retired and "Calvin and Hobbes" left the newspapers.(Do you italicise comic strip titles? This is not the thing one usually has to look up in the MLA handbook.) So let's take a look at the worst of the worst and then examine the larger issue of why the are so unfunny. P.S. the links and images on blogspot aren't working right now, so I'll add them later.

First up, "Garfield." Yeah, I know that Jim Davis is from Indiana and that only makes it more embarrassing to live in this state. This is seriously the most unfunny, repetitive, and stupid comic strip that ever was produced, and that's even at the height of it's popularity back in the 80's. When I would read this comic as I child I just thought that my reading skills weren't good enough to understand Garfield's jokes, and that's why they weren't funny to me. Imagine that! I thought that Garfield was over my head. Now I just realize that it's an awful cartoon and Jim Davis and his team of "writers" and "illustrators" must be the laziest people alive. Let's take a look at a Garfield from 2/3/07. Scene Panel 1: Garfield standing at the same table/counter top thing he always stands at. Eyes two thirds of the way closed, no smile, one arm propped on the counter top thing. In the little bubble Garfield thinks to himself, "Cat's live on instinct." Panel 2 (same scene) Garfield, same exact position and facial expression, this time with no bubble at all. I guess this is Jim Davis' way of preparing us for the ultrafunny punchline. Panel 3: Garfield, same position but this time with his eyes wide open and a smile on his face. He says, "And my instinct could go for some of those extra-spicy chicken wings." Fin. The masterpiece is complete. Reasons for awfulness: Bad drawing, bad writing, laziness, no sense of humor. One a side note, I did like the Saturday morning Garfield cartoon show they did, and the Halloween special wasn't half-bad (But it was no Disney's "The legend of Sleepy Hollow.") (Am I over using parentheses today?) (I hate that.) Moving on.

"Cathy." I want to vomit every time I see this comic. Take the most annoying, uninteresting, fat lady who you work with, live next to, or "help" with computer questions every Wednesday night at a nondescript local community college and put her in the funny papers. That was the formula for the person whose name I refuse to learn for making up this comic strip. I thought that when Cathy married her obviously gay husband they would go off into the sunset somewhere and try on bathing suits together that are way too small . But no, it kept going. Always fat. Always boring. Always Cathy. It's only more painful to know that women on a diet everywhere have this comic strip hanging on their refrigerators.

"For Better or for Worse." Strike one- It's Canadian and they talk about all their annoying Canadian things. I'm sure if Lynn Johnston could transcribe a Canadian accent in this comic strip she would ('Ey Elizabeth, how's aboot goin' to an 'ockey game and drinkin' some Molson light, eh? I have a mullet, eh?) Strike two- For as bad as Garfield is, I think that it is at least trying to be funny. I think. For Better or For Worse Doesn't even try. It's just a chronicle of a boring family, two geezers, and a dog. Strike three- I can't even imagine that we have to import bad comic strips from an effete nanny state. The last time I checked, we had a surplus of our own terrible comic strips. I'm not sure if that last one really counts as a strike, but I'm running with it.

"Doonesbury." I know what you're thinking, and yes, this comic is about ten times smarter that most other comic strips in syndication. However, Doonesbury to a child is like LSD to a hippie. Think about it. When I read this one as a child, I never understood what was going on, I had the vague sense that someone was insulting me, I didn't know why that one guy never took off his army helmet, and I sure as hell didn't know why a waffle dripping with butter and syrup was standing behind the presidential podium. See, just like an acid trip. As an adult, I dislike it for completely different reasons. It is soooooo arrogantly liberal. And this comic strip is taped up to all the arrogantly liberal professors' office doors in my buildings.

And the last crappy comic award goes to...."B.C." I really don't have a lot to say about this one besides the fact that it has never been funny....ever. Whether it's the fat lady beating a snake with a stick, the one guy looking up stupid definitions in the dictionary, or that same one guy reflecting on the death and Resurrection of Christ, which one can tell from the title hasn't even happend yet, these are all not funny. And at the end of the day, I suppose it really does take talent to make a comic strip that has never caused anyone on the face of the earth to laugh.

This list is in no way comprehensive. If you think something else should have made the list, leave it in the comment box. David kept telling me that I should put Family Circus on the list, but I resisted. I mean, everyone knows that that one isn't funny and people have even put this fact in movies ("Go" 1999) and all other forms of media. Some of you might be looking for Peanuts on this list, but I actually like it. There's something about a bird that talks in all apostrophes that really cracks me up. What the hell is Woodstock saying? ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''! Is he calling for help, or asking someone out on a date? I have no idea. I also like the fact that the entire "Peanuts" gang seems to be orphaned and must fend for themselves. It adds a little grit to what looks like just another sweet comic strip on the surface. Oh, and I like the fact that Snoopy has delusions of grandeur. That stuff is great. The Halloween and Christmas specials rock, too. And some of you might remember that the wedding party song at our reception was "The Ballad of Linus and Lucy," which is a truly awesome song.

Some people might say, "Monica, when you become fat and boring/ get a lazy cat/ become a liberal professor/ expatriate to Canada/ become a Christian caveman, you'll think these comic strips are funny too." And I'll say to those people, "No. I will not." It's true that our senses of humor change with our age and situation. For instance, I no longer think that "The Muppet Show" is funny. Well, actually I do. That's a funny show. The point is that one should not shape what they think is funny solely by their station in life. I really hope that I won't find "Family Circus" funny when I have kids. The thought of it actually terrifies me a great deal. That comic strip promotes the untrue idea that every time a child mispronounces something or breaks something it turns into comic genius.

So, if these comic strips aren't funny, why do people read them? Because I truly don't believe that most people think they are funny. I think the reason has to be that many people find these comic strips comforting, and that comfort is confused for humor. At least for me, if something is funny, it either has to be sharp, ironic, witty, or slightly subversive. And I don't mean in any complete overthrowing of social mores sort of way. I just mean that it's funny enough to make me slightly uncomfortable because it points out the stupidity of something I or people I know do. Cathy, on the other hand, points out the stupid things that people do and at the end tells people it's okay because other people do it too. It's the same thing with Doonesbury. Liberals can feel good about the fact that they will never be as stupid as those silly red state types. It's the comfort factor. These are just my opinions. Perhaps "For Better or For Worse" is really a laugh riot and I'm too stupid to realize it.

With all that being said, what are the funny comic strips? Well, I already mentioned "Calvin and Hobbes." That will always be the funniest in my mind. Foxtrot was funny, but it's slipping pretty fast. Andy Capp. Now that's funny. Any comic strip about a drunk in a domestic abuse situation is comic gold. I actually think that the idea of Andy Capp is funnier than Andy Capp itself, but still.

So there you have it. Unfunny comic strips and the reason for their existence. Comment or criticize freely.

Volunteer

I've been thinking about joining the Peace Corps. David says I'm crazy and Claire says the Peace Corps. is immoral. Okay, how about the Catholic Relief Service volunteer program? That should be pretty good. Is it weird that I want to run away TO Nicaragua? Most people are running from it. This is probably just a passing fantasy that I have because I feel like I'm not doing anything useful for mankind by cooping myself up in a classroom and listening to people drone on and on about John Donne. But, I mean, I don't even like camping. Volunteering would be like a 2 year long and very hard camping trip, right? I don't know. Maybe I'll just go home and vacuum.