Silence Spoken Here

Some of you know this already, but I seem to have contracted a case of "allergy-induced laryngitis" over the weekend.
On Saturday, I drove out to Grand Rapids to attend the wedding of my friends, Nate and Amanda. The wedding was lovely and I was able to meet my dear friend (and former house-mate) Christina's then-twelve-day-old son, Gabriel; Gabriel is now 16 days old. Below is a photograph (edited in Picasa by yours truly) of my older brother, Greg, holding young Gabriel. As you can see, both are quite handsome.



















After the wedding, I got back in my faithful car and headed off to the reception with my passenger and friend, Steve. As we drove, I noticed (and he didn't) that my voice was getting lower and raspier. I thought this was a BIT odd but didn't really say or do anything about it. The quality of my voice continued to diminish and people began to notice. At one point, I was dancing with a guy who told me that I sounded "like a girl but with a really deep voice." Thanks, Chris...
The voice continued to slide and shortly before 9pm (the time Steve and I had designated for our departure for Ann Arbor) it completely crapped out. I could barely speak and my throat hurt a lot. So I went over to remind Steve that we were leaving in about 10 minutes and he went off to the dance floor. I took his seat and sat there watching the dancing with my good friend, Kyle. Anyway, Kyle and I were sitting there and we started talking because he was concerned about me. We learned that if I move my lips slowly, he can read my lips. And then I started having an asthma attack. Being a good friend, he ran and tried (but failed) to find my purse, so I had to go after him and get it myself and retrieve my own inhaler. BUT HE TRIED!
And then after I started breathing normally, he grabbed Steve and told him that it was time for us to go home. And then he gave Steve absolute orders to keep me awake. So we set out for Ann Arbor. And Steve very faithfully kept me awake.
The next day, I got up and my voice was more gone than it was the day before. So I went to Mass at Christ the King and then went home to while away my time. I had decided to essentially seclude myself from the world because it was too difficult to attempt to communicate with the rest of the world-even my own family.
Sunday night, I discovered that Kyle's twin brother, Alex, also had allergy-induced laryngitis but his had started before mine had so he was (gradually) getting better. But it was nice to have a partner in silence-even though we didn't see each other until Tuesday.
Last night, I went to UCO-Ann Arbor's prayer meeting. Alex was there but he's more talkative than I am. His laryngitis is closer to being gone than mine is. I'm now on day five and I can talk but I have a rapsy voice and it's physically still really hard for me to talk. My allergies are killing my throat. But I have allergy meds and claritin and books to read and movies to watch.
And hopefully this will all be over soon!

Speaking of books and movies, I have two really brief reviews for you.
Brideshead Revisited: Three out of Five; it's 11 hours long and while it's decent, it kind of drags after a while. Plus, I stopped feeling sympathy for the protagonists during hour 8 out of 11.
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Three out of Five; it's decent. There is A LOT of immorality. The story is supposed to be moving and beautiful. But I was distracted by the immorality that is supposedly "spiritual."

That's one long blog post. I think that's enough from me for one day.

There is need of only one thing

(Lk. 10: 42)

I'm a college student and it's the last week of classes. Finals are next week and I have four of them in:

• Linguistics-oh dear Lord, prayers are needed for this class for many reasons.
• Precolombian Hispanoamerican Culture: I'm not worried; it's just another test.
• Shakespeare: I'm not too worried; we're writing an in-class essay but we can bring our notes with us.
  
• French 101: I'm not terribly worried but I had a role play today that had me worried...

And thus the role play will begin my blog post. My group went today; we volunteered. I was under the impression that my group was prepared for it. But we weren't. I felt ready personally and I felt that I did a good job; I knew my lines and I tried to cover for other people when they forgot their lines. I tried. We did NOT appear professional but I tried.
After we were done, my two of my group members admitted that they didn't care that we'd screwed up. I DID care. I was frustrated and annoyed and a little angry.
So I went to our student center to kill my two and a half hours of free-time between classes. I was going to write my paper that compares the trial of Catherine of Aragon and Henry VIII's marriage with Shakespeare's play The Winter's Tale. I'm enjoying the paper but after my French class, I was stressed and didn't really want to deal with it.
I was walking through Kirkhoff on my way to the bathroom before going to find a comfortable chair in which I could curl up and work. And out of the blue, I see UCO-GR's mission leader, Steve, walking towards me. We talked for a couple minutes and I told him about my French role play and he said,"But you did the best you could. You tried and did everything you could do."
Oh yeah...I forgot about that. It's not all on me.
My English linguistics class is struggling to keep our heads above water. Our professor's expectations are completely absurd for a 200-level class. And I'm spearheading the effort to get our grades adjusted/curved. But there are people helping me.
And it's not all on me. I'm not here to save the world. I'm here to live for Christ and do my best. I have to do my best and do everything I can do. But it's not all on me. People have to make their own choices.

But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.” And Jesus answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her."

(Luke 10:40-42)

I need to remember this more often. I worry about many things but I'm not alone.

Oh, and I bought a chapel veil today. So I was called upon to explain chapel veils to both Catholics and non-Catholics today-via Facebook.

But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head, for that is one and the same as if her head were shaved. For if a woman is not covered, let her also be shorn. But if it is shameful for a woman to be shorn or shaved, let her be covered. For a man indeed not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man...for this reason a woman should have a sign of authority on her head, because of the angels. Woman is not independent of man or man of woman in the Lord. For just as a woman came from man, so man is born of woman; but all things are from God.

-I Corinthians 11: 5-7, 10-12

I'm done defending myself for the time being. I need to go print off the paper about The Winter's Tale and then I have UCO. I really need to remember to let Him increase and let me decrease.

A Crazy Weekend

This weekend, I was home alone once again.
So I had to find ways to entertain myself. This is what friends are for.

Friday, I went shopping and out for churros con chocolate with Jess, Andi, and Melanie.
Saturday, I went to El Corte Ingles to buy some supplies to make Italian food. On the way to the sixth floor supermarket, I got my shoelace caught in the escaltor. Thankfully, a kind soul grabbed me and held me up while her boyfriend took my shoe off my foot and rescued my shoe. And then they were concerned about me. But I was fine. We all rejoiced.
Later that afternoon, I went out for coffee with Kayleigh and then we bought me a winter hat and matching scarf at Sfera. Then we hiked out to Casco Viejo...okay we took the metro. There we enjoyed churros con chocolate and then did some Christmas shopping. In the churros cafe, there were drunk middle-aged Spanish women singing and dancing and clapping. I asked the bartender if they did this often. He laughed and said no, just every Saturday and Sunday when they're drunk.
Shopping wise...I discovered two hippie-esque shops in Casco Viejo that had some great Christmas presents for friends. And then Kayleigh introduced me to the tea shop that has free samples of their tea. I will be returning to buy the last of my Christmas gifts there.
Saturday night, Jess, Melanie, and Andi came over and we had pizza and candy and watched Into the Wild the movie about the guy who moves to Alaska and dies.

Sunday, I went to Mass and then headed out to CV to get some pictures for a presentation on Basque religion that I have tomorrow. Later in the day I went out to Getxo (Get-sho) to Andi's place where she, Melanie, and I worked on our presentation for Basque tomorrow. And then her host mom made us churros con chocolate.
And then when I got home around 9pm, my host family was back. And I got to talk to them. It was charming.

This morning, I flipped up the the December page on the calender in my room and Daniela was thrilled to pieces because now there is a picture of a Christmas tree in my room.
And then Gabriel broke a necklace and Dani and I had to clean up after him.

Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get.
But I'll be home in 14 days.

I can show you the world, take you wonder by wonder

This past weekend, when I had my new hard drive installed, I lost about 75% of my music. I only have what I've purchased from iTunes and thereby saved to both my iTunes account and my iPod; everything else is gone. So Nicole very obligingly sent me "A Whole New World" and "Be Our Guest" and Alex K. sent me my absoulte favorite song of all time...by Simon and Garfunkel. He's so sweet.

So if I can walk by the end of the day, it will be a miracle. This morning while walking to my wardrobe (where I keep my lion and my witch) I walked into my doorstop. And yes, I was wearing my glasses. I think it's time to get my brain checked. I ripped the skin off two toes and resisted the urge to scream the English form of "Joder." Go look that up and find out how Irish I really am.
And then on my way to school, I was crossing this wooden (and steel) bridge that I cross every day. But it was really wet today and I kept slipping. And TWICE I did the splits and landed on my right knee. And the second time, my right foot slid in between two boards on the bridge. I now have cuts all over my foot and my knee is bruised and bloodied. (Am I in a war?) The first time I fell, this nice girl stopped and asked if I was all right; I replied that I was since my pride had been wounded more than anything. But the second time, two girls walking by just started laughing at me. Okay, God, I get the message; I need some humility. By the way, could I have some painkillers with that humble pie? My knee and hip are killing me.

So I'm now going to address something that came up about a week ago. I posted about my spiritual loneliness in Bilbao and someone commented to remind me of the cloud of witnesses that surrounds and upholds me in faith...referring to the BVM and the saints. Okay, I know they're there. I talk to them A LOT. I think I probably owe St. Michael about $2,000, four children, two cats, and a chocolate bar. I'm pretty sure I'd better name one of my daughters Gianna, one Mary, and another Monica considering the amount of time I spending talking to them. And I'm already named after St. Cecilia and St. Irene, so I think I'm good with them.
My problem is in accountability and support. I hate being surrounded by cafeteria Catholics and having no one to uphold me in Catholicism. Spanish Catholics rarely go to Mass and they seem to ignore God or have forgotten him except when He can get them a day off work. They live in the land of saints like Teresa of Avila, Isidore of Seville, Ignatius of Loyola, and John of the Cross but they have forgotten God. And it is heart-breaking.
To worsen things, there are Catholics in my program but they aren't strong Catholics clinging to the morality of the Church but rather cafeteria Catholics. I hear girls rejoicing to be liberal Catholics, rejecting the Church on the scores of abortion and gay marriage. They embrace a practice that abuses women and reject He who liberated women. Christ was, in the words of Dr. Peter Kreeft, "such a gentleman that he asked his mother for permission to be born." And then he kept liberating women through his interactions with the women of his day. Most Jewish men of his time NEVER would have treated women like that. But now we must embrace the false Messiah who is really the African-American JFK who wants to kill all the "imperfect" babies. So if you aren't exactly the way we want you, you get to die.
St. Gianna Molla, pray for us. We're complete and utter morons. We've rejected truth in favor of the Kennedy family and their associates. The bodies keep piling up and we keep putting up our blinders. And we don't deserve the mercy of God for the crimes we are commiting. This November, this election will be a matter of life or death. Our culture, our way of life is on the line. Do we fall and join Europe in letting those who will reproduce and follow their Abrahamic law take over our world? Or do we rise above and accept the culture of life, accepting people the way and in the time decreed by God? Do we make ourselves the God once and for all or do we finally accept that we are not God and trust the Creator and Source of Life? We are in a pickle and in less than four weeks, we will find out exactly of what we are made.
St. Gianna Molla, pray for us.
Mary, Our Lady of Guadalupe and Immaculate Conception, pray for us. We can't do this on our own.

And what do I want spiritually? I want support and accountability. I long to know that someone cares about me living according to the Gospel. I long to know that I'm not alone in living my faith. I long to see true Catholicism without reserve or adjustment living in my world. I know that I have support in heaven. What I wonder about is the world around me.
But I'm going to Vitoria this weekend; that should help.