Game 9.

I'M GOING TO THE BROWNS GAME ON SATURDAY!!!!!! AND WE'RE GOING TO WIN, BEATING THOSE CRAZY STEELERS!!!

Oh, yeah, and my seat? It's in section 109. Where is that in the stadium, you ask? Well, I'll show you:

That's right...that will be my view of the game.

And, Dad and I are going downtown early so as to meet up with my fellow Pittsburgh Browns Backers for some pregame enjoyment. YES!!!!!!!!! :0)

(I'm so excited that I'm currently wearing two Browns hats on my head). :0)

Ok, bye. :0)

7.

You would think that a 7 a.m. phone call might annoy the snot out of me...particularly on a day when sleeping in until 9 or 9:30 was perfectly acceptable...and normally, you would be right to think that. I am not, as they say, a morning person. I like to sleep in (though I hardly remember what that's like), I like to wake up on my own, and the only person who can wake me up without fear is Rachel...Because, let's be honest, you can't get any cuter than Rach. And, she has proven herself to be rather persistent with her repetitious "Wake up, Aunt K. Wake up, Aunt K. Wake up, Aunt K!" :0)

This morning, my phone rang at 7. I'm surprised, in all honesty, that I managed to gain enough coherence to understand, first, that my phone was ringing and, second, that I needed to answer it. I stumbled into my living room (where my phone was charging) and offered a half-hearted hello. And it was Conor!

Ah yes, Mr. Guam himself called to chat, and it was good. We talked for just shy of 2 hours(!), which is fairly typical...of course, I don't count the first 15 minutes or so of the conversation, as I was still sleeping (which why I made a comment that military time involved dividing by twelve, rather than subtracting twelve). We're weird. We give each other a hard time about everything, but manage to take it all with a grain of salt. He spoke of the possibility of going to Iraq in May. Of course, I never like to think about that, but I know it's what he wants--he really wants to make a difference--so I have to be happy for him. I'm just pleased as punch (who says that, really?) that he has only a year a change left in the AF, and then he'll be in the states on a more permanent basis.

I have begun the process of getting my laundry together. Because I will be journeying to Cleveland on two different occasions over this break, I only plan to take half of my clothing. But, lest you think that minimizes anything, be not deceived: the "half" that I'm not taking this time fills two laundry baskets to capacity. It's sad, really, how much clothing I have. And I just gave away a whole bunch of it!

Also, last night, I went through all of my classes to see what work I need to do over the next two weeks. While it can certainly keep me busy, nothing is quite as overwhelming as I'd initially feared it might be.

Anyway, it's nice to start off my day on such a positive note.

Time to finish packing (I have to get out some games for our 4th Annual Family Game Night!!!), then a shower, and I'll be off! I wisely filled my gas tank and went to the bank for toll money yesterday, so I should be able to just take off from lunch. It will really be good to be with my family again. :0) Bye!

chilis

Tom and I had a thrilling evening, which included a trip to Giant Eagle, a stop at NCB, and purchasing some vino at the liquor store (by the way, it still frustrates me that one can't purchase alcohol in the grocery store...silly PA liquor laws). Then, we went to Chilis for dinner--it has only opened within the past week or so, and it was packed. So, rather than giving our name, etc., we marched up to the bar and enjoyed dinner and drinks there.

The waitress/bartender was annoyingly shmoozy. To illustrate:

She, of course, carded both Tom and me, and when I gave her my liscense, all she could say was, "Oh my gosh, you look so totally happy!!!"

As it happened, I ordered a Jack & Coke, while Tom got his usual Captain and Coke. So, Shmoozy Waitress (herein S.W.) made all these comments about how "silly" it was that I ordered the typically male drink and Tom ordered the female drink.

Later, S.W. tried to make all of these jokes about how she was so hungry waiting for our food to come out. Yeah, we were hungry too. And then, she kept stopping by and asking if we could share our meals. No, we can't. And we don't want to. And we came to spend time with each other, not with you.

Even with S.W.'s amateur attempt at tip-earning, Tom and I managed to have a very enjoyable time. We talked about pretty much everything under the sun, in some sense or another. And I even got him to admit that there are some very good players on the Browns (Tom is, as it happens, a die hard Steelers fan...we won't be talking this Christmas Eve). We spent a couple of minutes noting the changes that have come upon me in the past year...i.e., I'm not high-strung like I used to be, I don't put up with peoples' crap like I used to, and I don't actually feel like I have to be friends with everyone.

I spent this evening looking at PhD schools yet again. I looked at several schools, and have started to get a good sense for the kinds of programs that are out there. The two schools that stand out thus far are Johns Hopkins and Michigan. Of course, it violates many moral principles to be interested in either. After all, JHU is in Baltimore...and we don't like the "football team" of convicts out there at all, and Michigan is...well...Michigan. Other schools that I've looked at in some capacity so far include Yale, Harvard, Georgia, Chicago, UCSD, OSU, and others. Chicago was pretty ideal until I learned that it takes an average of 14 years to matriculate. Yuck.

I'm rather excited because I have come up with a topic for an independent study next term with Dr. Tuell. I emailed him this evening with my brainstorms--hopefully he will take a liking to most of it, though I was honest when I told him that I am open to tweaking in whatever ways are necessary. It's right up my alley, however, to study ANE death/burial rites and systems. I want to integrate those findings with relevant biblical texts and discuss the implications therein. Hurray!

Anyway, I will be leaving in under 11 hours and I have yet to pack (and, of course, I need to sleep tonight), so I think that sleep is in order!

Bye :0)

break.

Break is very uneventful so far...and I'm loving that about it.

Last night, for example, my evening consisted of vegging out, watching the "What Not to Wear" Marathon (or, as I call it, the "what not to wear-a-thon") until Ben imed me and wanted to go for a drive to look at a couple of condos in the south hills. So, away we went, literally just driving for over 2 hours.

I went down to Crafton today--it was good to meet with Dave. In about 10 minutes, I'm going to hang out with Tom...nothing special--we're eating at Chilis and running several errands--but it's always good to spend some time with him since our free time is so limited this year.

Tomorrow, we have our staff Christmas lunch at Mad Max's down at Robinson. The plan, weather pending, is to then drive up to Cleveland straight after. We'll see what happens. If I go home tomorrow, then I will likely be able to see the Orange crew, which would be nice.

It's cold! Brrrrh.

Ok, off to hang out with Mr. Moore! :0)

Bye :0)

Huh?

Did you know that I have lived in the city of Pittsburgh for a year and a half and have only recently learned that I never knew which state it was in which I live?

That's right. You see, I was under the (sorely misguided) impression that I live in Pennsylvania. In actuality, I live in Pennsuwwwhvania.

Yes, Pennsuwwwhvania, land of Iron City and Yueing Ling beers, offroad courses that they try to pass off as "highways" (err...excuse me, "parkways"), "buggies" instead of grocery carts, and, of course, those blasted Steewers.

Ah, yes, Pittsburgh is quite an interesting place. Mullet (muhwet) hunters aren't people who go around in search of mullets to amuse themselves. They're actually people who hunt. And have mullets.

And the things people say in this city. The letter "L" doesn't exist. Come to think of it, there are several letters that seem to be dropped in casual conversation. Let me create a typical Pittsburgh conversation (there will be a Northeast Ohio/The Rest of The World translation following):

Me: Hey [insert Pittsburgher's name here], are you going to watch the Browns/Steelers game on Christmas Eve?

Pittsburgher: Weaowh, I'ow see the first haaaalf for sure, but I have tickets to see the bawwet tonaught'n'at. How 'bout yins guys? Err youze guys goin watch the Steewers beat your Cwevewand Browns?

Me: Actually, I think the Browns could pull off a win--just you wait. Or, if not, it will only be because the Browns are wisely opting for a higher draft pick!

Pittsburgher: Oh reawhwey? Yinze guys over der in Cwevewand don't have a chance cause yinz river caught on fire. [chuckle chuckle snort snort]

Me: Huh...Interesting. What does a fire that happened well before I was born have to do with anything?

Pittsburgher: Uh...weww, Myron Cope towd everyone that it burned and that's reawhwey funny to us.

Me: Great. Myron. Oh well...Go Browns and Merry Christmas!




***The translation will only include the lines of the Pittsburgher, as I'm quite sure you could understand what I was saying:***

1. "Well, I'll see the first half for sure, but I have tickets to the ballet tonight and that. How about you guys? Are you guys going to watch the Steelers beat your Cleveland Browns?"

--> I should here note that "and that" is an expression of extreme superfluity that is used here in Pittsburgh. It is extremely annoying and I cringe when it ends a sentence. Usually, if it creeps into one sentence, one can plan to hear it in 75% of the sentences that follow.

2. "Oh really? You guys over there in Cleveland don't have a chance because you're river caught on fire."

3. "Uh, well, Myron Cope told everyone that it burned, and that's really funny to us."

--> And now, I will venture to explain to you the local "legend", Myron Cope. Myron Cope was a Steelers announcer on the radio for years--this is the first year he has not filled that role. Even locals will readily admit that, for the better majority of his time over the air, Myron was drunk. Possessing the voice of Gilbert Godfrey, the vernacular of a true Pittsburgher (see above), the stamina of a distance runner, and the intellect of Gilligan (i.e. Gilligan's Island), Myron is one of the most obnoxious radio personalities EVER. And, it's true, there are countless individuals who would watch Steelers games on mute and listen to Myron on the radio simultaneously. It's sick, really.

Anyway, I have Christmas decorations to put up and dinner to make and vegging out in which to take part. Bye :0)

:0)

Using the word of my dear sweet niece, I'm happy to report that all is well regarding my sister.

What was found?

NUFFING!!! :0)

(Not Ben Roethlisberger, right J?)

I have spent the past 11 hours breathing heavy sighs of relief.

And I watched Kinsey tonight. Really interesting flick.

Speaking of "flick," I signed up for Flickr today, so I officially have an online photo bucket.

And, I'm on Christmas break, which means the amount of thinking I will do over the next 2 weeks is rather limited. Hurray!

Ok, bye :0)

j.

I wish I could be in Chicago right now.

I know that, being there, I couldn't change anything...and I know that my entire family wishes we could all be together right now, but we all have confidence that we're being as supportive as we can from our own respective homes...And I can hardly believe the outpouring of care around here--everyone I talk to says that my family is on this prayer list and was brought up in that church's prayer time last week and in her Bible study. I've been given phone numbers of people who have been in my position.

I hope my sister feels it--I hope she knows how many people love her. Especially me.

I am so glad that my entire family gets to be together next week. With everything that has happened of late, I think this is going to be a really important, special, and emotional Christmas. I'd even hug Mat with two arms...:0)

I'm off to class now...and remaining ever-optimistic.

Bye :0)

dilute

In a rare incident of sanity, I am drinking eggnog that is approximately 60% milk and 40% eggnog. No, J, you didn't read that incorrectly...more milk than eggnog.

Perhaps I should back up for those of you who aren't in my family (so, most of you). You see, my family has diluted our eggnog for years (with skim milk). Even when we were buying the light eggnog, it, too, was only permitted to fill 50% of a glass (and, usually, Dad would put our eggnog in the little ridged brown glasses which were not big enough to truly enjoy the beverage at hand, but whatever). Of course, this rule, it seems, never applied to Dad. Dad has always cheated his way out of the 50/50 rule and has amended it so that he can have 70% eggnog and 30% milk for larger glasses. For juice glasses (which he also has used for casual wine intake, as it happens), there is no diluting necessary. Just straight eggnog. Now this, of course, is a travesty to my sister and me. Why can't we enjoy the bliss of straight eggnog? We're both adults, after all. I'm the youngest at 24!

Alas, I did the unthinkable--following closely in the footsteps of my father, I ventured to try eggnog...without milk...direct from the carton. This is the joy of living in my own apartment. Not that I abstained from jug-to-mouth milk drinking when I lived with my parents, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I learned that it's not much better to drink it straight. But, in trying to create an equalization between the remaining eggnog and milk in my kitchen, I am now enjoying 60% milk in my drink...Really, it tastes quite like 50/50.
____________________________________________________

And another thing: why is it that envelope glue is so gross tasting? Let's compare with markers. Now, there are many markers that smell bad...absolutely disgusting. But, then again, there are markers that smell brilliant. Everyone from my generation must remember Mr. Sketch markers. Those were the ones that came in a variety of colors, and they were all scented. Most people had a preference for dark blue or pink. I was a light blue fan, myself. Now, clearly, it's not the best habit in the world to go around sniffing markers, but it was still nice of the people at Mr. Sketch to think of those children in the world who would, indeed, participate in this act of ink-inhalation. In the same way, I'd suggest that an envelope company take the bull by the horns--let's have a variety flav-o-pak (haha) of envelope tastes. In a way, this idea is quite reminiscent of Willy Wonka ("The shnozzberries taste like shnozzberries!") Like marker-sniffing, envelope-licking is not necessarily the best use of one's time, but perhaps people would be more inclined to write a letter or pay a bill if they didn't have to deal with the treachery of the nasty envelope.

And before any of you comments on the ability to use a sponge, paper towel, or other envelope-wetting device, I will say this: yes, that's true and a valid point. But, do you drive up to an ATM and make a deposit there with an extra damp paper towel on you at all times?

No, you don't.

_____________________________________________________

And finally, slipcovers.

Are slipcovers named as such because:

1. They slip on to one's couch, love seat, or other furniture accesory with ease
2. They are made from slip-like material.
3. They are covered in a type of slip ("slip" here being a paleographic term that describes the sort of makeshift glaze often used on pottery in the Iron and Bronze periods, and that often differentiates one timeperiod and/or region from another. I know I'm a dork)
4. They slip and shift around and never ever stay in one place.

I would submit to you here and now that, indeed, the correct answer is #4. It doesn't matter what I do, how many times I readjust and readjust--even if no one has sat on my couch--my slipcovers are everywhere! I see the flowers of my couch and loveseat (formerly J & Mat's couch, and they got it from Jim and Jane) peeking out from beneath the khaki covers that are meant to completely alter the look of the furniture. The khaki does it's job...until you look at the floor and see a good 6-8" of flowers on the bottom.

Maybe someday, when I'm all grown up and people call me Dr. Kristen (or whatever other names people have for me by that time), I'll be able to afford couches that don't need slipcovers. Until then, I'll just be thankful that I have a couch and loveseat and an apartment with heat.

I still have more Christmas cards to finish, and plenty of homework after that.

Bye :0)

mingle.

This week has gone from bad to worse to fair.

Without going into all of the details, my family is finding several new reasons to be a support system for each other. It's hard for me because I don't live near my sister, who could really use all the strength she can get right now (though we're working to remain optimistic) and I don't really live that close to Mom & Dad, or even to Grampa and Gramma to be of any help there...and even though that's at least a reasonable distance, I am so busy all of the time that it's just very difficult.

On the other hand, I am very grateful to be surrounded by so many people who care. People are just bending over backwards around here because they know I've had a lousy week...it's really hard for me to accept help from anyone, but it's really great to know that so may people are willing to give it in whatever way is necessary. I wish everyone here could split up--half going to WV and half to Chicago, and then things would really be good. :0)

In terms of good stuff that's going on: I got my grades yesterday and have managed to get myself a 3.9167. Not a 4.0, but not really anything to cry about either. Silly A-. I guess I can be okay with that. It's funny because my gpas just get higher and higher the longer I'm in school (which bodes well for PhD work!) I'm a big fan of rising gpas! :0)

Also, I got paid yesterday, which is a ginormous relief. And I'm expecting a check in the mail sometime in the near future, which will also be quite helpful.

The mambo last night was a fairly good time. It was good to catch up with some people who aren't in any of my classes this term. After the mambo itself ended, Grant, Allen, and Allison came over for awhile--we played cards and talked and whatnot. It was very fun. Of course, I didn't get to bed until nearly 5, but who's counting?!? :0)

This afternoon, I'm going down to Market Square with Keith, Derek, Rick, and others, and we're doing this giant outreach thing. I am in charge of the clothing...because there's a lot of it to hand out to various homeless people, and I have several bags of it sitting in my closet right now. Keith tells me he has some more with him too! I'm looking forward to it.

And, Grampa's birthday is today. I called him and sang--I think he was happy to hear from me, but he had to go because his nurse was waiting to take him somewhere. Still, I was glad to talk to him for a couple of minutes.

Anyway, that's all for now. Bye. :0)

Dashing.

I have successfully shown myself to be the root of all things controversial in Christology.

Maybe that's not exactly true, but it was due (almost entirely) to my paper and related comments that our section was all in a frenzy this morning. There was actually some yelling that occured. Yelling, I tell you!

I don't mind being a "dissenter," as it were, but I was frustrated after class when I talked to a couple of people who thought they disagreed with me until I was given the chance to speak more on the topic. There were people in there who interpreted my comments through their own lenses (as it goes), and a couple who, in trying to reformulate my thoughts, completely jumbled them up.

But, I was told at the end of class that I was very "courageous" for bringing forward the conclusions that I had drawn. I do wish that everyone in the class had read the same three articles as I, and perhaps I would have been able to spend more time discussing my thoughts, rather than trying to explain those things on which the articles focused.

Such is life.

I have to work this afternoon, then I'm meeting up with the Badgers and Wickers for dinner, and then we're all going to go hear Dr. Tappy and Dr. McCarter give their presentation yet again. After this, I might be able to give the presentation myself! :0) Even still, it will be exciting to hear...and, I'm sure, it will further instill in several PTSers the interest in going to Israel with our lovely Zeitah crew this summer!

I am SO excited to make my return trip! Plus, I can get another tshirt since one of mine has a hole in it :0( (I'm not entirely sure as to how that happened...oh well!)

So, I must be off as work is in under 20 minutes, and I want to check my mailbox on campus in the meantime.

Bye :0)

comments.

I don't have anything lengthy or important to say, only a few brief comments:

1. I can't believe I came home from Lux 3 years ago. I can't believe how much of my life has happened in 3 years, and how I hardly know the pre-Lux Kristen anymore!

2. My senior year of college, I used the word "hardcore" far too frequently. How did I not notice?

3. I wrote a paper today that is bothering me because I sound very feminist and whatnot--I'm not anti-feminism or anything, but I sound much more radical than I actually am. That wasn't my intention, but, at the same, time, I did get rather riled up when reading the three papers that "inspired" my own thoughts.

4. Today, Allen, Doug, Rich, Elaine, Dr. Purves, and I practiced the Dashing White Sargeant (a Scottish dance). We were awesome. Brian was lame and didn't show up, even when I tried to pull him in. Plus, he left me with a bruise on my arm.

5. I am really glad tomorrow's Thursday. And, it will be Amy's birthday! :0)

6. I wonder who actually reads this?!?

Ok, bye. :0)

feel good.

Grampa had some surgery today and is in recovery...he's improving, but still has a long way to go.

Lisa Bell's husband was killed in Iraq last week--he was one of the Marines killed in the bombing...even though the Bells haven't really been a part of our lives for several years (though I did just see Mrs. Bell over Thanksgiving), it's still really sad to hear that kind of news.

In keeping with my quest for optimism and feeling good in the midst of rather yucky times, I am going to here mention two compliments. One came as a little surprise--I was looking at the myspace page of Lindsey, one of the girls in the youth group at BUMC. On myspace pages, there is a section for things like favorite music, favorite tv shows, and heroes. As it turns out, Lindsey listed me as one of her heroes!

The other one came from Michael. Now, of course, he didn't mean for it to be a compliment at all, but this was what he said after answering a series of Bible-related questions that I emailed him: "You should study more interesting things like American Idol on TV or you will wind up being a total loser like me."

I realize that's not even remotely a compliment, but I still interpreted it as such because it means that I was asking the kinds of questions that get me classified as a "nerd" or, in a much nicer way, as an "academic." Yay me! :0)

I have a meeting tonight. I have to leave in 15 minutes. I'm not too excited about it.

Bye :0)

eyes.

This just in--another grade returned. This time, Doctrine. Grade? A! :0)

So, I am now forced to admit something rather troubling because far too many people have been pointing it out lately...

So...here goes: My eyes give me away 100% of the time. I couldn't lie if I wanted to! Everything I think, everything I feel, everything I wish to say but, out of respect or whatever don't--it still gets said with my eyes.

Some people express themselves with their smile or their eyebrows or their entire face as one entity. Apparently, I could as easily explain my thoughts even sans other facial features.

Most recently, I got an email asking if something made sense to me, followed up with the comment, "I can't see your eyes, or I would know." A little over a month ago, I had a little game wherein I thought of a set of certain things and a friend of mine would actually be able to tell which thing I was thinking about and when, based solely on the look in my eyes. I guess they keep me honest.

I am not in an especially good mood today--I've been thinking a lot about Grampa and Gramma--but I'm trying to be optimistic. After all, there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. I think that Field Ed. has really been helpful for me in dealing with this because I have done a good bit of visitation and it's somehow made things seem to be a little bit easier. I don't know if I'm less afraid and/or more confident or what, but I'm grateful for whatever it is that is helping me to feel more at peace.

Also, having Christology and Pastoral Care back to back is fantastic. I am very envigorated by that dialogue!

Anyway, off to MS02 and work.

Bye :0)

:0(

Grandpa's in the hospital and not doing well. I just talked to Mom a few minutes ago, she will head down to Masontown tomorrow morning. I am planning to drive down there on Friday morning to spend some time...Hopefully, he will be stabilized and improving by that time. I don't like to think about any of the other alternatives.

I have so much work to do, so now the challenge will be finding a way to concentrate...

Bye.

grades.

Actually, the title of this should be just "grade" but oh well.

I got my NT01 paper and last quiz back today. And, yes, I got an A. :0)

Soooo, so far, I have 9 credit hours worth of As (6 for Israel and 3 for NT01). I now eagerly await the results of the other 9 hours (3 each for Ethics, Education, and Doctrine).

Not a bad start though. :0)

I have an SA meeting in 20 minutes; I must skidaddle. Bye :0)

100.

My 100th entry, and I've had this for less than 5 months.

I love to journal though...and sometimes my entries are rather trite (to say the very least), and sometimes they have very little meaning to anyone else, but sometimes I think they might possibly contain little nuggets of wisdom. For me, it's easier to allow myself to be honest and, in some sense, vulnerable, when I'm writing. It's a helpful tool for clarity.

I'm currently reading William Willimon's book Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry which is not something that I necessarily thought would be overly helpful given that I don't feel called into parish ministry.

I'm not too far into the text (about 60 pages), but I'm pleasantly surprised thus far. It's a rather technical manual, jazzed up with various stories from the author's experiences, etc., and many of the things about which I've read seem to be somewhat elementary, but there are also some good points. I wish he had reconsidered his use of words in a few spots, but on the whole, it's proven to be worth my time.

A particular text is sticking out for me right now, so I want to write it here, if for no other reason than to remember it for later (since I'm borrowing Brian's copy of the book and I don't want to mark it up). It reads:

"We live in a culture with an extravagant faith in the potency of counseling combined with a relentless interest in self-help techniques for human betterment. In such a culture, the pastor as therapist is a risky image for pastoral work--a possible capitulation to the infatuations of capitalist, bourgeois concerns rather than specifically Christian ones."

I think that I agree with Willimon's statement here, but I can't decide yet. After all, I don't believe pastors are only called to work with Christians, and, regardless of the historicity of the gospel accounts, it must not be ignored that Jesus' ministry was largely involved with 'human betterment,' and I think there are things which, Christian or not, ought to receive our attention. I don't think that Christians (ordained or not) can exclude themselves from some sort of service opportunity because their work isn't inherently "Christian," and I think, furthermore, that working with and for people who don't share that belief system is perhaps a better testament to what Christianity entails. After all, Christianity isn't meant to be some sort of secret sect, it's not an exclusive club (though it sometimes feels like it, but more on that later), it is, rather, some manifestation of grace, lived first and foremost through Jesus Christ, but echoed in humanity through the ages, thanks to the work of the Holy Spirit in and through us. Even Paul, with whom I sometimes have big questions, even he points out the necessity behind helping widows and orphans, for example. Ah yes, I must think more on this since, clearly, I don't have it figured out yet.

PTS has been interesting for me because I'm learning to throw certain cultural definitions out the window. I'm learning that there really isn't a "status quo", per se--or, rather, there are infinite perspectives on what the "status quo" actually is. I'm also learning that there are a lot of things that I believed because they were the only things instilled in me while growing up. Finally I'm in a place where those belief systems are called into question. Growing up in my suburban, white picket fence lifestyle, then going to undergrad with a bunch of other people who grew up in similar picturesque towns did not especially call my beliefs into question. As I think back on my Miami days, however, there is one moment that characterized me at that time: confronting Dr. Strauss.

Dr. Strauss is a professor that I will not forget any time soon. He was the head of the French & Italian department at Miami, and was my French Novel instructor (an upper level French elective). The French & Italian department at Miami was, at the time (and possibly still is), the number one program of its kind in the country. It was no small thing that I had the chance to study with Dr. Strauss in a class in which only 10 or so students were enrolled. We read several novels that term, and we wrote a variety of papers. Also, we each had to give a thirty minute presentation (in French) over some text-related subject. I remember very clearly my characterization of the two main girls in Anne Hebert's Les Fous de Bassan. But, even more vivid was my response to Christine Angot's semi-autobiographical book, L'Inceste. Yes, it transliterates into English to mean what you might suspect. Now, this particular text was so patently offensive (yes, it would qualify as "obscene" under the appropriate clauses--thank you, COM 447, Mass Media Law) that I could not complete it. I read the first 50 pages (about 1/3 of the novel) to truly give it a chance. My quest for open-mindedness had met its match. I was so bothered by the gross nature of this material that I confronted Dr. Strauss. I expressed to him my disgust and he asked if I thought others in the class felt the same way. I polled the other members and they all said that, yes, they too were horrified. However, none of them wanted to risk losing points and possibly getting a lower grade, so they refused to say anything. I was deeply troubled by that.

I talked to my parents, sister, and my boyfriend at the time...all of them were very supportive of me. My parents, in particular, made me feel better, confirming that they believed in me and my decision to "rebel," even if it meant I failed the class.

I talked to Dr. Strauss again. And again. I told him that I refused to complete the book and would thus be unable to write a paper about it. He challenged my stance saying that it was "that sort of subtle refusal to listen that led to the Holocaust." Offended, angered, hurt, and more convicted than ever, I debated with him and debated with him. Eventually, he told me that he would give me a different assignment. Instead of writing on the book in question, I had to write a paper (twice as long), in French, on why I shouldn't be compelled to read the book, though it was assigned in an elective class in which I chose to participate.

I got an A on the paper and an A in the class, which gave me a newfound respect for Dr. Strauss (though his Holocaust comment still enrages me). But, more satisfying was the feeling I had inside because I had done the right thing; I had stood up for myself, defended my beliefs, and maintained a sort of level-headedness that is sometimes a struggle for me.

The following year, 6 people raised their voices about Dr. Strauss (and others in the department), calling their morals into question, and a series of editorial letters from both sides of the issue found themselves in our campus newspaper. In the middle of that, Dr. Strauss wrote me a recommendation and thanked me for my maturity and candor.

Since coming to PTS, I have realized that the "conservatives" think I'm more liberal and the "liberals" thing I'm rather conservative. All of this has led me to conclude that those are silly titles that really mean nothing. I think it's more important to approach things as being right or wrong, than it is to worry about where I fall on the political/relgious/etc. spectrum.

I'm sure that even making an assertion like that probably categorizes me with some group, I can be labeled with one stereotype or another. Oh well.

It's after 1 a.m. I must be off to do other things. Bye :0)

making waves.

I truly had a ball at the Duquesne Holiday Ball last night. I got to Ben's place at 5:30 yesterday evening and got home at 2:30 a.m. We spent our time with 3 couples, the women in each being Ben's coworkers (Sharon, his boss, was among them). We laughed and laughed. After leaving the ball, our group of 8 headed out to Cecil to this club of which the other 6 (excluding Ben and me) are members. We got a couple of drinks and played Euchre into the wee small hours (as noted above). I should here note that I played Euchre with the 3 men and Ben played with the 3 women because I am so stinking awesome at that game! :0)

There were, as with any multihour function, several quotable moments...none that I feel compelled to mention here...but it was fantastic overall.

When I got home, I was all wound up, so I ended up reading for class until 3:30, then finally sleeping. I awoke this morning to the heinous mess that was my apartment. I began cleaning and, with only a couple of breaks, continued through until my aunt and 2 cousins showed up at 5:45 or so. We went for dinner, then Aunt Catherine dropped us off here and we have been hanging out ever since. My how things have changed with the two girls...we're having a good time though.

I know that I have plenty of other things to say on here, but I will be waiting until a later time, as it's well past midnight right now, and I have a 7:30 wakeup call!

Bye :0)

theodicy.

I'm reading this article for Christology (actually, it's the first chapter out of a book) that is particularly poignant for me right now.

The book is entitled Tragic Vision & Divine Compassion: A Contemporary Theodicy, and the name of the chapter is Tragedy, Suffering, and the Problem of Evil. It pushes me to the edge. It brings to mind a conversation I had in Philly (which, actually, was the product of a conversation I had several months ago), in which we discussed the the nature of suffering and, simultaneously, the inability we have to "walk in someone else's shoes." It all began when Michael shared stories and endless insurance-related facts all relating to his post-Katrina life. Time and again, I hear--we all hear--that one cannot even begin to appreciate the destruction without seeing it first hand. Even then, it becomes at once more and less clear what the magnitude of the hurricane--wait, no--the levee breaches--actually was.

It is really painful to know that someone is suffering, to want to do something about it, but to never be able to truly understand that person's condition. Naturally, no one will ever understand the conditions of someone else in their entirety--even spouses don't experience every last thing together, or, at least, didn't for the first 20some years of life.

I haven't yet completed this reading, but there are already several quotes that stand out and cause me to really think. For example:

"The phenomenon of human suffering continues to bleed thorugh the explanations that attempt to account for it...Hopes in future vindication do not make hunger, racism, war, and oppression theologically irrelevant."

"But justice cannot tolerate a cosmic harmony whose edifice is maintained on the unavenged tears of tormented children."

"Without denying the legitimacy of eschatological hopes, theology must seek a historical response to evil. Otherwise, consolation and hope may degenerate into excuses for remaining passive or indifferent in the face of radical suffering and injustice."

In the words of Josh Snyder, this stuff is pretty "heavy."

But I think there's another problem with which I'm trying to deal in trying to understand the age old question of why bad things happen to good people...I need to figure out what my motivation is for being helpful...for wanting change to occur, for having this drive to eradicate "evil" in all of its forms from existence (despite the fact that many of those forms are altogether uncontrollable).

Of course I want to truly be helpful, of course I don't want to see people constantly in the thick of suffering and despair. But how often do I do things to feel better about myself? To possibly get just a little bit of attention from someone who I'd like to impress? I don't think that I'm concerned with meeting a "quota" or anything like that, but I do know that sometimes, it is all about me, whether or not it should be.

I think I just need to get over myself.

Last year, I made a goal for myself--I wanted to do at least one thing every week that was a truly "good" deed--something that took me out of my comfort zone, even--and that made a positive difference in someone's life...but the challenge was, I was never allowed to tell anyone that I had done it. I'm not going to discuss the success of this quest, but rather, I think that it was really a good thing for me. If I'm honest, after all, then of course I love to be the center of attention. Of course I love for people to call to attention my good deeds or my talents or my intelligence or whatever. But it's not all about me, even when I want it to be.

And, when it all comes down to it, that stuff doesn't necessarily matter.

Michael's intelligence and sense of humor didn't keep his house from being destroyed in the hurricane.

Mom's unbelievable singing ability and enviable organization skills didn't prevent her cancer.

My Coach bags, trendy new glasses, cell phone, or even my cat blankie--my prized possession of 24 years--none of this stuff is going to save me either. Nor will the 12 committees that I'm on. The gpa. The Christmas cards that I've been dutifully filling out since coming back after Thanksgiving. It's all trite. It's all silly. It's all expendable.

My mind is racing right now. I want to stop writing and try to catch up.

Bye. :0)