Plus One and Single

We're smack dab in the middle of wedding season, so the invitations are pouring into our house. I know those living the temporary vocation of singleness might be facing the plus one question: should I bring someone or celebrate the couple with my groovy self? This is for you ladies and gentlemen who have already decided to use that plus one, gar-gang-it, and you're going to use it right!

I never used my plus one to invite a male to a wedding; I've tussled with guilt over the years for having brought my sister to one wedding and a girl friend to another. The following is what I would have done if I could think of a quality guy with whom I wanted to spend time during one of the most funnorible events: weddings!

Good excuse to share a photo
from my 2013 wedding, yes?
(Photo: Jackie McCool)

All scenarios:

You don't have to know ahead of time if this is THE ONE, you just have to know them. No strangers.

Pick someone you know with whom you could enjoy spending potentially stressful time and who will be a team player that night.  "Can I get you a drink?" "Let's dance!" or "You don't want to dance? That's okay, let's grab some cake and people watch," should plausibly come out of his mouth.

Don't text or email this request. Let's be grown ups (clarified: let's be grown ups from the Greatest Generation, instead of the Generation That Cannot Handle Social Interaction).

Give the guy at least two weeks, but perhaps more, in order to ensure he can be there.

"I want to invite you" and "I would like to invite you" are tempting examples of how syntax and word magic take the pressure off of what you're really doing: inviting them to a wedding. PLEASE COMMENT below because I'd love to hear your thoughts. My armchair opinion is that the asker should just come out and use a more direct version: "Please join me."

You are in the wedding party:

If you have never been a bridesmaid or groomsmen before, know that you will spend little to no time with your date until about two hours into the reception. This person has to be able to fend for themselves or know someone else at the party to hang with until you are free. Chances are, if you're going to find value from this post, it's because you're not sure if you like-like this guy or if you do like-like this guy.

If the guy is your good friend, you won't have much trouble with the wording:

"Bro, I have a plus one for a wedding next month. I know you and I would have fun! Just know that I'm in the wedding party, so I won't be with you until after the first dance."

If the guy is someone you consider a friend, but you are wondering if God might be showing you that outcrop of rock: 

"I'm calling because I am inviting you to join me at my friend's wedding next month. I think we'd have fun!" -pause for normal human conversation effect- "I am a bridesmaid, so I will be with the bridal party for the first half of the wedding. We could get dinner with a few other friends of mine next week, so you can meet cool people to hang out with during the first half."

You are not in the wedding party:

If the guy is your good friend:

"Bro, I have a plus one for a wedding next month. I know you and I would have fun! Two questions: are you available? And chicken or beef?"

If the guy is someone you consider a friend, but you are wondering if God might be showing you that outcrop of rock: 

"Will you join me at my friend's wedding next month? I think we'd have fun!"

It would be a good idea to still grab dinner with a few friends who will be at the party so that this guy isn't walking in blind, but you will know if that feels appropriate.

For these fellas that we're wondering about, I suggest taking several deep breaths before making the ask. Ask the Holy Spirit to let you know how to proceed from there so that you lay the foundation for a fun evening!

All Aboard or Hit the Trails

ATSF Route Map (from Wikipedia Commons)

In speaking with my younger, wise sister last night, I realized how much my advice is colored by my changed perspective as a woman who found and snatched up (oh, I got him!) the man of my dreams, the man God made for me.

At earlier points in my life, I saw my journey to my vocation as a 19th century train ride on the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe (Harvey Girls, anyone?).  I was on a train, coping with tunnel vision, knowing the train had certain stops along the way, with a marked the course and planned stops. If the train stalled, I quickly overanalyzed and shouted, "Oh my gosh, we're here, we're here!" and fell madly in crush with the train station in Dodge City or Winnemucon.

The ultimate destination in this scenario was a train station called Marriage and I was busy trying to make every train station the Marriage station so that I could finally say I had arrived. I didn't want to miss that stop!

"This could be it! I might have found him! Won't it be a beautiful story to tell!"

In those ATSF days, I would walk into a room and make an immediate evaluation of the men in the room: wedding rings, ages, height, face, perceived personality, style, and whether or not they were looking for their bride who just walked in the door...

My eyes and heart tired of the effort.

At a point about six months before I started officially dating my husband (we were friends at this point), I abandoned my train metaphor and realized that this journey to a married vocation is actually a hike.  Thank you, Holy Spirit!

I realized God would not let me walk by that outcrop of stone overlooking His beautiful creation. In time, I walked on the paths, through the woods, over the creeks, admiring the creation within the hike along the way, but His mightiness revealed itself to me without question.

BOOM! Look at that view! So much better than an over-analyzed train station that was never meant to fit.

My Saint Claimed Me

January Prompt: Saints: Picking Them, Picking Us

Check out The Bright Maidens over at the Facebook Page! 

"I picked her and I literally have zero in common with her, except our names. And mine has an E," I told my husband less than a month ago, condescendingly patting my 17-year-old self on the head for my shallow reasons in picking my confirmation saint.

Image borrowed from this video. 

I went on to describe her life:

• Lived her childhood through the Revolutionary War
• Husband's formerly healthy business went underwater
• Husband died of tuberculosis after suffering through the disease for most of their marriage
• Family disowned her when she converted
• Raised five children alone
• She looks ridiculously depressed in virtually every rendering
• Eventually started the Sisters of Charity and helped found the current Catholic education system

My saint always depressed me, but what choice did I have? We had the same name, it was easy.

The first image that pops into my head is from a documentary I watched on her at some point in my life. She's in a dark room, kneeling at her husband's bedside, weeping as he passes away. Phew.

My shelf holds at least five books about her, though I knew I'd rather not share her trials. I held her at an arm's length, hoping to avoid more commonalities in my lifetime.

It took a wicked norovirus striking my married household and a PBS video to V8 smack me: She picked me!

Yes, people say that all of the time and I must admit that I've never had a strong dedication to one saint over another. I hardly tap that resource, aside from my constant pleadings for Mary's prayers. I'll blame myself for not seeking ways to answer non-Catholics' digging questions about our relationships with the saints -- instead of having to figure out how to appease the hatahz, I avoided exploring it at all.

Well, I was sitting on the edge of my marriage bed, trying to comfort my ailing husband as he suffered from a ridiculous bug and BOOM. That image of the first American-born saint with her tuberculosis-stricken husband rushed to mind.

I mean, she looks like a ball of fun. Source.

A few days later, I was in class, watching a video about the history of education in America when the era of conception of the Catholic school system played out in front of my eyes. A product of a Catholic high school, it never occurred to me why there would be a Catholic school system, except the obvious: parents wanted their kids to learn Catholic-ness in school.

No, it was because the only free schools for immigrant, Irish (and Italian, Polish, German, etc) children were unabashedly racist against those from the Emerald Isle and extremely anti-Catholic. This is why it's such a big deal that my saint is the patron of Catholic schools: immigrants who wanted their children to learn the faith despite poverty and sincere anti-Catholicism.

She sought me out. I have basically ignored her my entire life as books of her life sat on my shelf, so you can hold onto your arguments of the power of suggestion. She has been far out of my mind for years.

As a recently married grad student currently earning my masters in teaching elementary education and English Language Learners, I'm grateful to finally acknowledge one of the great ladies who has been praying for me throughout my life.

What I Wore on Sunday, 15

Ask my family: I'm not a daring fashionista. I have to make a conscious effort to put on a colorful blouse instead of the t-shirt I wore to bed.

Today, I decided to take it up a notch. It's my first "What I Wore on Sunday" post in celebration of my first time back with my CCD class since December! By the way... I'm teaching a third grade CCD class here at school. Time flies and we're already halfway through the year!

• Blue bubble dress: London Times, but I got it at the Goodwill for $11
• Purple cardigan: Merona (Target) - One of my favorites!
• Black cami under the dress to keep things classy
• Black tights to keep things from freezing my legs off
• Purple suede shoes because I'm feeling sassy today
• Long string of pearls wrapped around three times: a birthday present from my late Gramma. The last time I wore these to class, one of the third graders said she liked it. It's going for a round two compliment.

Go visit Fine Linen and Purple for more!

Weight of Mentality

Pinterest has been invaded by spammers preying on women who pin, and pin, and pin about tips and tricks for losing weight. Women keep pinning and re-pinning these spam-laced pins because they believe they'll read them, eventually, and live up to the toned woman in the photo doing whatever exercise the spammer knew would catch the female eye.

They know how to get to us, don't they?

Over the past three years, I've been fortunate to finally find some success in this realm of my life and I want to share with you the "secrets." Not secret diet or the perfect all-over exercise regimen, but the real secrets behind the eyes of a woman struggling with her weight: the real weight lies in your mentality.

This is not a new idea. However, I know when I was unhappy with my weight, I plagued Google for every tip, trick, or motivation some stranger would share. This list is written for women, men, the overweight, the underweight, and for those who never really had to think about their weight.

• Fear - when I was overweight, there was a constant and overwhelming fear that someone was going to yell something rude at me about my weight. I also feared that everyone around me saw nothing but the fat girl. This mental elephant sat on my shoulders for years and even after I had lost enough weight to be out of the medical "overweight" category.
• Faking it - Though I constantly complained to my family about my weight and made a few little jokes with my friends about my weight, I tried never to verbally self-identify as the fat girl in public. I might comment about how other girls were little or compliment others on being cute and small, but I tried not to make fat jokes about myself. I think that's a slippery slope.
• What is "enough?" - Another fear I had was that any success I had with weight loss would be quickly eclipsed by a bad snacking day or a gradual let down of my guard. I also told myself that I was worried that the success would be so great that I might get too skinny and not be able to stop. Now I see that this is really a crutch, but it is something to keep in mind. It shouldn't get in our way and if we're losing weight the healthy way, it isn't much of a possibility.
• Boy-friendly sized? - Typical, right? I ached for years believing that no boy would date me unless A) he was 400 lbs or B) I was 100 lbs. This is like the hunger growl that creeps from your stomach during a quiet moment in class (no pun intended); an empty pain based on the untruth that I'm only as valuable as someone's first impression of me. Yes, the way I treat my body (ie. the cookie binging nights) is a reflection of how I treat my insides. Now that I am in shape again and have found my value within, I feel more like myself than ever before. Still, the poison I fed myself regarding my undesirability was the real turn-off. BONUS: it's quality of the man, not quantity or ease of "capture" ;)
• Helpless anxiety - I once heard someone say that being addicted to food was a much harder addiction to overcome than any narcotic addiction because we can't quit food cold turkey. We have to coexist with food for the rest of our life. For those who have never needed to lose significant weight or keep any kind of restraint on your diet beyond avoiding cake, try to understand this: imagine hating how you look and knowing that the dinner (even if it's healthy) you just cooked for yourself is just another version of the food that added to your frame. For me, being overweight felt like I was wearing a rubber suit that was superglued to my skin. I knew it wasn't part of who I was (deep down, I believe I knew this), but I didn't see how I could remove it. There was a grey cloud of guilt with every single bite I took, unless it was a vengeful bite taken among several on a day I said, "Forget this! It's been a week and I haven't seen an ounce of difference!"

True cliche: Both of the above ladies are beautiful and valued. God created both and used their life trials to lead them to their true identity.

My final note here is that this is not a commentary along the lines of "bigger is beautiful" just as much as it is not a commentary stating that all women should be size 4. I believe we have a duty to our bodies as temples to work to be healthy and mental health is foremost (IMHO). 

If you have ever struggled with this identity crisis, do these resonate with you? What would you add?

If you have not struggled with this, would you share with us something that surprises you? Or challenge me! Please!

I Get To...

...marry my best friend!!

God is so good to me! A) Savior, thank You! B) Thanks for sending me a great dad! One who gave his blessing to C) My wonderful fiancé!!

In case you were wondering, I had Life for breakfast (yes, yes, I did) on the last morning before agreeing to marry my best friend! We went on a hike on, in my humble opinion, the most beautiful day in the whole wide world.

We walked up the mountain as boyfriend and girlfriend and walked down it as fiancés. Okay, so we didn't walk. I basically ran down that mountain.

Wrinkled Love

Read my [first in a month] post at Ignitum Today! Here's a little to get you started:

This August, I went back to school to learn how better to teach, only partly because the smell of fresh notebooks and sharply pointed pencils fills me with satisfaction.

In my child development class, we learned that children’s brains are incapable of empathizing directly with someone else’s perspective until they reach eight-years-old. They can’t imagine what things must be like in someone else’s mind without injecting all of their own emotions.

It was at this point during the class lecture that I realized I am seven and a half years old.

My beau and I visit a Catholic Church-funded retirement home every month to celebrate the birthday men and women (boys and girls) in that community. Each month the group from our church brings cake, soda, gifts for the month’s birthday folks, and smiling conversation as we spend a little time with people who have little money and little entertainment beyond the confines of the home.

I love spending time with the people I meet there, but I didn’t noticed my lack of perspective until last month’s “birthday party.”

My beau adopted a grandmother, we’ll call her Pearl, who grew out of her sour face mood she held a few years ago and into a sarcastic, yet bubbly demeanor. Ask anyone but my beau and they will tell you it’s because of his attention to her and pushing compassion for her to turn her frown upside down. When I started visiting for these parties with him, I co-adopted her and we’re now a happy group as long as the Parkinson’s and arthritis remains at bay for the day.

Continue reading here.

Vocation Confirmation

I had an Epiphany through Pinterest that had nothing to do with lace doilies, spray paint, low calorie cheese cake, or wedding table runners (per se...).

Last year, Sr. Lisa challenged me to examine my vocation and I did... kind of. Tony called me on my bull you-know-what, correctly so. I spent the next while asking a lot of questions I never wanted to fully explore.

Yes.

Truth be told, I didn't want to be a nun. I had just celebrated my six-monthaversary with my wonderful beau and I was looking forward to teaching my kids to swim and make perfect rice krispie treats. The best I could do in terms of openness to God's will was, "I want to want to do God's will."

So I wrote this, which almost tore me in half. My beau proved his worth to me and told me he wanted me to follow God's will, too. We've prayed, I've prayed, I've only really discussed it with him and my sisters for fear of over-thinking instead of over-praying.

I knew what I wanted (marriage) and I was 99% positive I knew God was calling me to marriage. I told God, many times (often in frustration), to just confirm it, already.

Continue reading at Ignitum Today.

Charting for Beginners

Does NFP jargon make your head spin? Are you single and curious about how your body works?

There's a vid for that.

Check out my newest vlog at Ignitum Today!

Glue Gun Ingenuity

I'm cheap.

I have a pair of shoes that fit me perfectly, don't hurt my feet, and look great with almost anything. I am not a shoe girl, so when I find a pair like that, I have to hang onto them until they're unsuitable for public use (often times, my mom or sisters have to tell me when this time comes).

Over the last year or so, I've noticed the heel of this gem pair of shoes has worn down at an angle due to my funny walking stride and it made me sad to think I might have to toss them. GLUE GUN TO THE RESCUE!!

This idea came to me while I was in line at the craft store, buying my very own glue gun. I have great plans for this glue gun, the first of which was a wreath for my beau's front door. The Great Shoe Repair of 2012 is project number two.

It may be hard to see, but the dots in the middle of those heels are really the metal filling of the heel structure. Yikes!

It's difficult to find an angle that adequately shows the worn down rubber (stuff) on the heel. But it's about to get Elizafixed.

Squirt-ity-squirt squirt squirt the glue on the side with the most wear. Be careful of the heat!

I used an index card that turned out to be accidentally wise. I used the index card to flatten out the glue and hold it in place while it cooled, making sure to keep it level with the sole. The happy accident showed itself when I peeled off the index card (after cooling) and it left a little paper residue. I decided that was a GOOD thing because it gave it a little more friction for walking around.

A little black paint to match the original rubber (stuff) and some scissor trimming of the excess and it's good as new! It makes SUCH a difference when I stand in these heels now. Before, I would have to concentrate on not letting my heels wobble, but now they stay planted.

Once again, it's hard to see the difference explicitly, but "before" is on the right and "after is on the left. TA-DA!

Bikini or Biki-no, Door-to-Door

*1*

I wish this was my door

DING DONG

I have never liked door-to-door salesmen, evangelists, or folks pandering for donations. It's not that I don't want the product, the religion (but really, you can keep it. I have the Church, thanks), or to help the cause. I just don't want my hyper-sensitive, people-pleasing, over-active empathizing gland to force me to do whatever it is they need me to buy, convert, or donate.

Today, I finally got something back after years of anxiety. One of these brave few taught me a lesson.

A nice guy came by my apartment on his way through my neighborhood, saying he worked to help inner-city, in-trouble kids train for and find jobs. The gentleman was well-dressed and amiable and my roommate and I enjoyed chatting with him, as we all found something in common (ah, gotta love the human condition!).

*2*

He threw me off when, after a few fun jovial exchanges between me and my roommate, he pointed down at my leg and said, "Is that real?!"

That was my reaction, too. Do people have fake leg muscles they glue to their quad bone like the chicken cutlets some women put in their bras? Not that I know of.

Is that real? Yes, of course it's real!

"I run a lot," I laughed. He spent at least a minute more talking about how I could probably kick his butt, how I should go to the Olympics, how I probably make boys cry, etc.

*3*

Strong woman... oh, never mind.

Throughout the rest of our chat with this man, he kept referencing my legs and let me tell you, I was regretting answering the door in my running shorts. They are about an inch above my fingertip length and, yes, they show off my growing runner legs.

I look like a strong woman in my new runner legs and it reminds me of when I was in competition shape. I love the way that feels.

*4*

Until some guy I don't know points them out, continues to look at them, and talking about how I could crush inanimate objects between them.

*5*

While I can't control his thoughts and it's not my responsibility to control them, it brought my attention back to the Great Bikini Debate of 2012. Most people don't voice thoughts like his out loud, in fact it was quite uncomfortable when I realized a self-identified 45-year-old man was studying my legs.

I think he had innocent intentions. The man wanted us to donate to his cause, so he needed something about which he could laugh with us. However, he made an awkward decision when he decided to talk about my legs.

*6*

We can presume (not EVERY man thinks this way, but there is evidence that most do -- Jason Evert video and Young and Catholic's anecdotal evidence) that men have thoughts about what is under the clothing we wear. Yes, it's their responsibility to stop those thoughts from progressing.

*7*

This is a popular topic these days

However, had I chosen a pair of jeans, or even a pair of yoga pants (to address the tankini-covered belly vs. skin-covered belly issue), he would not have seen the distinction in my leg muscle. He would have seen that I was a strong, probable athlete, but not in such obvious detail.

Yoga covered legs wouldn't have been as "in his face" as my bare legs. I doubt it would have occurred to him to mention them as a topic of awkward conversation with the young lady who answered the door on his door-to-door day.

I'd post pictures of my legs in shorts vs. yoga pants, but that would explicitly ignore my point (while potentially proving it).

In conclusion, yes, wear whatever you want to wear. But maybe we could consider what we'd hear if men spoke their thoughts instead of keeping them private. Perhaps we'd sooner want to wear more fabric.

Follow the Breadcrumbs to the Exciting News

Click to visit Conversion Diary.

*1*

I'm going to give you some clues for the exciting news I introduced a little while ago.

This is the Internet, of course you can just scroll down to the bottom to see the surprise, but what's the fun in that? Pretend you just received this in a ridiculously long chain email that tells you to avoid scrolling down to the bottom for risk of erasing your happy destiny.

I'll alternate between clues and non-clues.

*2*

Non-related, non-clue:

A friend posted this great collection of 15 Things You Should Give Up To Be Happy. Among the are some of my worst vices, including: Give up your need to always be right, give up your need for control, give up your self-defeating self-talk, give up the luxury of criticism, and give up living your life to other people’s expectations.

Okay, now to implement...

*3*

Clue:

*4*

Non-related, non-clue:

Andrew and Cristina may be my favorite heroes-whom-I've-never-met. They allow the Holy Spirit to RADIATE from them, and all I have to judge that is their blog and a few emails we have exchanged. It is just so clear that God has placed them on an incredible path and they are so willing to let Him guide them through it.

They need our help! Read about it here. All it takes is a few clicks of your mouse and a vote.

Considering they're spending a lot more money than the young couple expected to spend in their first year of marriage due to an intense surgery to correct their in utero daughter's spina bifida, they could also use your donations. If you are able to donate and/or you feel called to donate, please visit here.

*5*

Clue:

I love First Graders.

Can you guess?

*6*

Non-related, non-clue:

The Bikini or Biki-no discussion is heating up. I'm hoping to read a full post or two from the folks who take a more pro-bikini (more accurately, but less succinctly described as "not against bikinis/raising the issue that the modesty talks don't seem to apply to men/to each her own") folks. If you haven't read the contributions thus far, here's your chance to catch up:


Bikini or Biki-no? Part 1 - The intro. Here you learn how the whole discussion began and we get @Palaminko's voice on why he would request (if he could) that women avoid wearing bikinis.




Bikini or Biki-no? Part 2 - Chase chimes in and points out protecting the feminine genius doesn't mean dressing like a nun.




Bikini or Biki-no? Part 3 - I take a whack at it. My opinion shifts often on this topic. Here I take a look at why the bikini option seem so appealing, yet why that also shows me why I should probably avoid them.




Bikini or Biki-no? Part 4 - A Father and Husband's POV - Val wrote an email to me (just as you are welcome to do) and explained his aversion to bikinis on the women in his life, namely his wife and daughters. As my dad said, "He makes good points!"

So far, the non-bikini-wearers have the loudest voice, measured by number of people commenting for this "camp" of opinions. I would really love to hear from someone who sees a lot of good in bikinis or would like to explain, in a post, why bikinis are a good option.

This has been a great discussion thus far. If you're game, I'd like to continue it.

*7*

Did you guess?

Will they have nap time in grad school? You know. For practice.

Drum roll...I'm going to grad school! I got accepted into a masters program for elementary education!

In about a year and a half I will be certified to teach elementary schoolers! (note, schooler is not a real word. I suppose I'll have to stop being so colloquial so I can put sum guud learnin' on da kids)

I'm so grateful to my family, my wonderful boyfriend, my elementary school teachers, the first graders I taught last year, and GOD for helping me discover this calling! I can't wait to begin this journey!

Marx Sisters

SAHM vs. WOOTHM

The Mother's Dilemma by Julie at The Corner with a View
On Motherhood by Trista at Not a Minx, a Moron, or a Parasite

Marx Sisters by Elizabeth at Startling the Day

The "Bright Maidens" were originally three from the oft-mentioned, widely-speculated upon demographic of young, twenty-something Catholic women. Now, we all take up the cross to dispel the myths and misconceptions. Welcome!

I have the typical, boring opinion on the question of "Should moms stay at home or work outside of the home?" Just like some women are called to a single vocation, some are called to the religious life, and some are called to married life, I believe we are called to contribute to our families in different ways.

Of course, I still believe we are biologically better-equipped for some duties within a marital household, namely those related to bearing and raising children, but men have a great importance in that area as well.

La dee dah, see? Boring and very politically correct.

So let's talk about Marxist Feminist theory instead.

Bigger, more skirt, please.

I've watched six episodes of "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" in the last two weeks. These people fascinate me and before I write you a dissertation about them, I'll to focus on their strict adherence to traditional family roles. Women marry quite young, some as young as sixteen, and enter a life similar to every "traveller" wife: one centered on taking care of the husband, cooking, child-rearing, and extensive cleaning.

Seriously, these women put sponge to every surface of their homes, everyday. I've never seen anything like it.

Their husbands earn the money, have a lot of fun at pubs, and, in their words, "own" their wives. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and anthropologically point out that we do not have a full understanding of their culture in order to call this regressive or stunted. It's vital we also point out how extremely rare divorce is in their culture.

Marxist Feminist theory feels responsible for sticking up for women after centuries of what its troubadours believe to be wrongful oppression based on societal structure (rather than any relation to biology). This theory holds that a patriarchal, capitalist society demeans women because it enslaves them in the home to perform duties for free that men would otherwise have to hire employees to complete.

Old-timey headache

Marxist Feminists believe women are not properly compensated for the traditional roles they hold, so its supporters believe that as many inequalities between men and women should be flattened out as possible. In other words, it seems these theorists would be at least partially happy to see women receive salaries from their husbands, appropriate for the work they do in the home.

Call me crazy, but that sounds like capitalism more than Marxism.

Here, Marxists try to explain, in capitalist vocabulary, their belief that a lower value is placed on a woman's day than a man's and the translation is muddled.

The lasting issue with this theory is that it discourages women from entering a lifestyle Marxist Feminists define as the poorly-valued role, a stay at home mother. Marxist Feminist theory states that, no, it was the  patriarchal, capitalist society that shaped the role to be lower.

However, because the Marxist theory presents no alternative, they shame women away from being stay at home mothers, lest these women accept a shameful label of settling for a regressive lifestyle.

If a card-carrying Marxist Feminist could get their hands on one of these gypsy girls before walking down the aisle in her teens, he or she would try to convince the bride that her life can have more meaning in the eyes of the men of this world. If she could just NOT perform the slave duties thrust upon her as a wife and stay at home, cleaning, cooking mother, she could be much happier and more highly-valued.

Apart from the point that some of these women really do want to live their vocation in the traditional way, perhaps the young bride would have sense enough to point out the unspoken enslavement of the crazed person trying to shake her into the 21st century.

If you're doing something to spite someone else or to be seen as more valuable in the eyes of a society, who's the real slave?

Crabcakes and Football

Go to ConversionDiary.com for more!

*1*

Slow and steady wins back their blogging brain.

I have exciting news and I'm going to continue writing quick takes until I decide whether or not to tell you....go ahead and guess.

*2*

Have you listened to the Bright Maidens' interview with Pat Gohn yet?

Click to listen to Part 2

In the first one we discussed a myriad of topics that we believe are important to Catholic young adults. In this, the second one, we spent a great deal of time talking about... sex. And virginity, and recycled virginity, and our identity as such.

It really turns into honest girl talk, so men, if you've ever wanted to be a fly on the wall of a sleepover, this is your chance.

*3*

Exciting news hint: it is one reason why I have been posting infrequently/not posting. Seriously, try to guess! #CathSorority girls aren't allowed to guess.

*4*

Click to buy it on Amazon

In the last week, I have listened to my church's 1997 recording of our Song of Mark production at least 20 times. It's a stellar musical and I highly recommend buying the CD and/or asking your music minister if they'd consider producing this play at your parish.

I know all of the people with lead roles, so I'm tempted to go to Mass on Monday and embarrass them with compliments about how I have their voices stuck in my head.

One of the children in the production who had a solo is one of my oldest friends and was 10 years old when her beautiful little voice sang the Good News. She now has a three-year-old girl and a month-old baby boy.

Time flies.

*5*

My cousin and her awesome boyfriend had a fun idea for a wedding present with a personal touch. Cousin's-Awesome-Boyfriend salvaged and split a beautiful piece of wood, so that it has a flat surface for painting.

Selfishly, I'm eager to help them because it will help me get back into painting and creating art. They want me to paint a big crab on this, similar to the picture, and insert the words "Crabcakes and football: That's what Maryland DOES!"

My canvas. Wood, I'm turning you into a crab.

What a creative wedding gift! I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. I'll post some pictures of my progress later.

*6*

My exciting news will compel me to move to a different city. Bittersweet.

I decided I'd reveal my exciting news in its own post. So guess, guess, guess!

*7*

Don't forget to join the Bright Maidens for this week's topic on stay-at-home-moms and working-out-of-the-home moms.

In case you were wondering, we had this one planned before Lent began, so it's a coincidence that the whole Ann Romney/Hilary Rosen thing blew up recently. You're welcome to reflect on that, if you haven't already, but that wasn't our aim.

Trista's post, "On Motherhood"
Lynsey's post, "WOHM vs. SAHM"
Mandi's post, "Stay at Home Mom vs. Working Mom"
Lisa's post, "The Best Job in the World"

OMG[osh], What did she say?!

The Bright Maidens are back and this time we're talking about ... SEX. We discuss sex, virginity, recycled virginity, women, the value of sexuality the value of being a child of God and a brother and sister in Christ, and TOB in terms of respecting life and pro-life issues.

I haven't listened to this week's Among Women podcast all the way through yet, so I'm a little nervous about what Pat Gohn edited in and out. Our conversation for Part 2 was about an hour long, but it's much shorter in the podcast version.

I'm more than a little nervous.

UPDATE: "It's really hard out there. It's really hard. To be a virgin in the 21st century takes heroic courage. It takes the grace of a saint to live the life that we're talking about here." -Pat Gohn

Let me know what you think!! LISTEN HERE. Our part of the interview is about one-third of the way through the podcast.

Bright Maidens on Among Women, Part 1

Friends, the Bright Maidens have an exciting announcement! The lovely Pat Gohn of Among Women kindly invited the three Bright Maidens (Julie, Trista, and Elizabeth) to sit down with her for the podcast!

As you may know, St. Hildegard of Bingen is the Bright Maidens patron saint, so Pat Gohn shares a great deal of wonderful insight on this powerful saint!

We had so much to discuss that we will be in TWO (count 'em: one, two) podcasts. We get into girl talk, a few points that we believe affect young Catholic women today, and a few... surprises. Check it out! Here is the first installment.

Combining Gilbert and Wentworth

*1*

Yes, I'm cheating by doing this in Quick Takes form... a week after the topic was published.

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This topic was meant to be a light one, just in time for Valentine's Day, because no matter your vocation or marital status, there have been and always will be literary men in your life. As Liesl explained in her literary crush piece, "Excuse me while I swoon:" 

I think one of the things I have learned most from my literary crushes is not that they have shaped my heart, but that they show me what is already imprinted on my heart.

We are who God created us to be when He first knew us, before He formed us in the womb (Jeremiah 1:5). We are His children, at our core, no matter what additional outer layers we allow others or the world to attach to us.

*2*

When you KNEW you could fly

My college art show focused on a related phenomenon: the concept of memory and how your life changes and experiences change your perspective on memories.

For instance, Anne of Green Gables was one of my first chapter books. Therefore, my perspective as a 5 or 6-year-old reading about Anne's contentious relationship with Gilbert Blythe was simplified. I might have picked up on their undertones, but I certainly didn't analyze it and try to apply my results to my own life like I did as a teen.

My perspective as a happy, confident, and in-Love 24-year-old reading this classic is less analytical and involves far more guffaws at some of my previously similar behaviors. Oh Anne, you're almost as clueless as I was a few years ago!

I can only imagine that I will revisit my 24-year-old perspective as an older woman and share a few more guffaws with and at myself. It's a cycle, folks, so embrace it!

*3*

Say a prayer that everyone may shed the extra layers

This whole concept rests on the notion that we are who God created us to be at our core. My favorite quick quote is JP2's "Family, become what you are." As Catholic Christians, we believe God created our souls and and gave them a home in our bodies.

Our souls should come first in the health pecking order, but many times we feed our body and our pleasures first.

Throughout our lives, we pack on outer layers of junk. I know I formed some weird habits during my tween to teen years. We all add habits and mannerisms to ourselves in order to fit in or do what we think will be best for us. Unfortunately, this is often only "best" for us in our pleasure-seeking short term.

Praise God, we're still US at our core. Through discernment, prayer, the will of God, and sometimes an Ah-Ha moment, we can shed these outer layers and reveal who we were created to be.

*4*

This inner person, the core, is the one with whom others fall in Love! This is who Gilbert noticed about Anne, not her red hair or temper. I believe he fell for the passion that motivated the temper.

Captain Wentworth tried his best to forget about his Anne, the one who broke his heart. He thought he healed from the romance bruise, but as soon as he saw her again, seven years later, and noticed her resolve, clear-headedness, and strength, he shed the blinders.

Julie, Liesl, and Sarah mentioned these fine fellows, and rightly so. I used to think that I Loved Gilbert because he was just a nice, intelligent country boy who is part of an example of an iconic Love story. I once thought I swooned over Capt. Wentworth because he secretly pined over Anne and then wrote a beautiful letter to make his affection known.

It's both more complex and more simple than that: they Loved their Annes to their core and recognized the lovable qualities buried deep in them. Once more, swoon with me. This is why they are so swoon-worthy. Gilbert embraced Anne's Anne-ness from the beginning and Capt. Wentworth couldn't fall out of Love with his Anne, even after years and distance.

These are the men we want, ladies. Go find them.

To the brave

March for Life Reflection

Julie at The Corner with a View
"March for Life Reflection" by Trista at Not a Minx, a Moron, or a Parasite

"To the Brave" by Elizabeth at Startling the Day

The "Bright Maidens" were originally three from the oft-mentioned, widely-speculated upon demographic of young, twenty-something Catholic women. Now, we all take up the cross to dispel the myths and misconceptions. Welcome!

This one goes out to the brave. Thank you, women in mourning, who consistently share with us your heartbreaking stories of decades of pain.

Thank you for opening wounds with us that took years to acknowledge, let alone to heal.

This year I spent the March for Life doing what most of my fellow defenders of the sanctity of human life were doing: trudging through another work day, wishing I was marching among my brothers and sisters.

God knows I'm grateful for my job and that many who are not as fortunate as I am were homebound on Monday as well. I just wish I could have joined the voices and the media-slighted crowd.

Two years ago I was here in DC for an internship on the day of the march. I awoke with my normal routine, begrudgingly aware that I couldn't pound the pavement with the pro-life strangers, and walked toward the Metro station. I boarded a train bursting with the normal commuters, briefcases and cell phone chimes.

But when I exited for my stop, I noticed one woman carrying a sign as she de-trained with me. She was the only marcher in our train car and her sign was far too big to conceal.

She carried this sign

I don't know if she was one of the women behind the micro or megaphones that day, with thousands of voices to support her in sharing her story, but here she was in the middle of a DC commuter's morning, witnessing without the rest of the choir.

I can't imagine the pain of cooping with a decision to abort a child and I certainly can't imagine the kind of retribution she could have faced in risking to carry that sign as she traveled alone. That morning, I wanted to give a stranger a hug and to thank her.

When I returned home from my internship in DC, I started volunteering for Rachel's Vineyard. I encourage everyone to visit their website, inquire with your diocese about opportunities in your area, to donate (if you feel so called), and to volunteer.

You don't have to be one of the counselors in the room to give aid to the effort to provide a safe environment for post-abortive fathers and mothers. You can offer up the tedious but necessary jobs like cooking, setting up, and cleaning up.

The pro-life movement needs to be an activist movement for healing as well as a forward movement for saving lives. Consider helping with this wing!

Like Pulling Snowman Teeth - 7QT, Volume 51

Visit Conversion Diary for more!

*1*

I didn't post for Thanksgiving A) because I was enjoying time with my family and B) I prayed all of you were enjoying your Thanksgiving instead of reading blogs!

So......... I enjoyed time with my cousins, the Twinsies, and the rest of my family. They are almost a year old! I can't believe it. I have a sliver of the feeling that I would feel if I was their mother, I'm sure.

*2*

Cyber Monday came and went without a penny spent by me. *Pats self on back*

I hear the best deals come later anyway. Plus, do I really need anything else?

(Check out Decide.com if you're considering buying some electronics or gadgets.)

Though I constantly resist the sales, I'm still enticed by some really delicious feeling of spending money, even though I HATE SPENDING MONEY.

I wrote this quick take on Wednesday... and Thursday I went on a Target.com spree... sigh.

*3*

How do you feel about the Victoria's Secret show? I never had a very strong opinion about it, but it occurred to me that I probably should...

My short opinion: yes, they are objectifying women. Absolutely, though the women choose to and even DREAM of walking down that catwalk. They also dress it up with the fanciful, costume atmosphere that the fashion world is famous for.

Therefore, no, it's not as bad as porn, but the subtlety allows more of the negative messages that discredit TOB to sneak by, under the guise of a carnival show.

Victorian Secret fashion show

*4*

Liesl introduced me to 1000 Awesome Things, such as when the first person starts the standing ovation. That person, if you look around next time you're at a performance, is usually my father or my sister. I admire them for that because, unfortunately, I don't think that will ever be me.

Check out their books for a dose of positivity in your Christmas shopping:

The Book of (Holiday) Awesome
The Book of Awesome

*5*

One thing I really love about my beau is also something that attracts a lot of playful teasing from my family and friends.

A cruel little game my family (and I) play is to name a movie, any movie, hoping to nail one of the 14 movies he's seen (I'm kidding, my love :) ). He's seen more than 14, but probably less than 80.

Again, I love this about him. He spent his childhood DOING things instead of watching movies. He is an expert on almost everything handy or crafty (seriously, everything). I learn something new every single day and without the time to learn all of that, he wouldn't be able to teach me the quirky, genius ways to fix things.

Plus, now we have the chance to watch some of my favorite movies together, should he wish to watch them.

He's putting in surround sound in his living room so we can enjoy some movies together. :)

I still prefer our hiking and travel outing most of all.

*6*

I just watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and .... the first thing I thought of when the Dentist took out the teeth of the Abominable Snowman was, "Eugenics!"

As we know, the delightful founder of Planned Parenthood, Margaret Sanger, was a strong voice in the eugenics movement. She advocated for birth control and sterilization to clean up the human race (taking out the "mentally inferior" and black), treating fertility like a disease.

Now here we have this gigantic, fearsome (misunderstood?) monster whose unappealing feature is his man-and-reindeer appetite and accompanying teeth. Pop, pop, pop. Get those things out of there. Presto-chango, he's tame and puts stars on your 15 ft. Christmas trees at the end of a leash.

Are you picking up what I'm putting down? To clarify: I'm not accusing the writer of Rudolph of supporting eugenics, nor am I belittling serializing to removing a monster's teeth.

*7*

Do you think Santa picked up a Canadian accent up there?