tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43251795558178504232024-03-12T20:31:50.367-07:00Hot Pink ScrubsMy honest dialogue with the world...and, you know, whatever.Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-2467536376641412532010-05-20T22:56:00.000-07:002010-05-20T22:58:30.547-07:00Don't Wanna Be Lame Like That...I haven't written anything on here for a really long time. This seems to be the general fate of any blog that I have....it's interesting for awhile, then I inevitably go and just live my life, and not bother writing any of it down here. To be honest, I think this is something we're all going to have to be okay with. Hahaha. I know I am.Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-53307152057315706552010-01-22T06:44:00.000-08:002010-01-22T06:56:09.274-08:00Come hell or high waterToday I embark on my sixth March for Life in Washington, D.C. Each year is a little different, though the pictures always look the same...people of all ages, bundled in parkas, boots, scarves, hats...mittened hands hoisting signs in the air or bare fingers reciting the rosary. The sounds range from enthusiastic chanting to quiet praying to babies babbling or crying, to bagpipes and lutes playing. People from across the nation join me today. I join them. We pray and walk together to remember the children lost. To demand that their rights be recognized..to demand that the brothers and sisters of my human family be protected. <div><br /></div><div>This is not a sentiment that lasts only one day. In every area, we strive to let the pro-life truths touch and change our lives. There is support for those who make the courageous decision to choose life for their child...and healing for those who have experienced abortion in the past.</div><div><br /></div><div>Father in Heaven, you hear the cries of your little ones who are lost each day. Look with favor on us as we march today. Purify our hearts and enflame us with love that will change the world.</div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-4026056691058871392010-01-09T12:13:00.000-08:002010-01-09T12:20:40.584-08:00Gloria in Excelcis Deo!!So far, my favorite part of today was overhearing Fr. Nick telling off music ministry after mass for not playing any Christmas songs. "The Christmas Season is short enough as it is!" he bellowed. <div><br /></div><div>I love how you can never really tell if you should be scared for your life, or just laugh when he says something. Takes at least a class or two with him to adequately discern the most appropriate response.</div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-51896921685225263132010-01-08T12:59:00.000-08:002010-01-08T13:08:47.283-08:00Man...So far today, I have...<div> </div><div>Gotten out of bed at 7</div><div>Worked for 5 hours at the best job on campus</div><div>Been really gleeful</div><div>Felt sick</div><div>Skipped working out</div><div>Been almost hit in the parking lot (PAY ATTENTION PEOPLE!!!)</div><div>Gone grocery shopping</div><div>Found out my plans for contradancing tonight were cancelled due to weather</div><div>Not decided what to do with the rest of the evening</div><div>Talked to Murph</div><div>Been a little lonely</div><div>Read about battery-cage vs. cage-free eggs (http://www.humanemyth.org/cagefree.htm)</div><div>Looked up recipes for curried ANYTHING...mmmmm curry</div><div>Remembered that I need to clear up some business with Overstock.com</div><div>Decided to stop blogging and go do that.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-54271276875920325952009-12-30T08:16:00.000-08:002009-12-30T08:45:43.543-08:00Tooth Tales ContinuedAfter the hygenist finished up came the part I was really looking forward to...meeting my new dentist. So far the fellow had been somewhat elusive, considering that the office is on the smaller side and there's really only so many places he could be. While in the waiting area I thought I had glimpsed him, but he had a mask over the bottom half of his face, so I didn't really get a good look. Anyway...it's important to like the person who puts his hands in your mouth for a living, so perhaps you can understand why I was anticipating making his acquaintance. <div> So finally he walks in. Wow. This guy is <i>young</i>. Like I'm sizing him up to be maybe 26 years old just out of dental school young. This instantly conjures up some unusual and conflicting feelings in me. Well, he's probably not out of his 20's. This introduces the awkward feeling of peerdom. I like to know my dentists have some years under their belt...not just for ease of the professional relationship, but also because that probably means they've been around the block a few times and know their shite. But, okay, whatever. Roll with it. </div><div> It seemed as though Mr. Young Dentist DDS was going to dispense mostly with formalities and get straight down to business. Hold yer horses. I made sure I properly shook his hand and had the opportunity to look him in the eye... little does he know just how much I'm already feeling him out. His small talk skills weren't bad. Small talk is the kind of thing that you don't realize is important until you meet someone who has no talent in that department at all. Then you miss it. </div><div> So I obligingly opened wide...and he prodded my molars with his little metal tools (ping, ping)...and I took the opportunity to observe that he had very beautiful brown eyes... then he and the hygenist reviewed my x-rays in an obnoxiously low tone, pointing at various teeth and nodding and saying things under their breath...</div><div> Verdict: I have two small cavities between two bottom molars. I should probably have them filled. Also, I should strongly consider having my wisdom teeth out. And floss.</div><div> So, my sister and I walked away from that appointment ("I loathe youthful dentists!") with sore gums, and I with sore gums and a sore ego. That checkup was a bit of a slap on the hand. So, I went out and bought an electric toothbrush (which I love btw, why didn't I make the change to one of these sooner?) and some floss picks, which I don't like, but which are supposed to help me get between those back few teeth more effectively. Yeah, as soon as that bag is through I'm not buying any more.</div><div> </div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-77801449793664006912009-12-28T20:04:00.000-08:002009-12-28T21:19:09.324-08:00Adventures in Dental HygieneLet's make tonight a double feature, to make up a little lost time. (Tonight has turned into tomorrow, I see.) The evening's second entry, be the reader warned, is a rather personal journey into my own mouth. Please be advised that I spare no details. Read on or stop short accordingly.<div><div><br /></div><div>Well, the padre scheduled me a dental checkup for this Christmas break, because what I actually wanted for Christmas was all my teeth, and not just my two front ones. Obligingly, my daddy booked me a gig with our new family dentist. One of the benefits of this situation is that the office is right in town (I live in a small town of about 6,000 people). Before, we had to drive 35 minutes to get up-to-speed on our pearly whites. No longer, my friends. Now I travel but a mere 5 minutes for the unparalleled pleasure of opening wide under the torture devices of a smiling hygenist. </div><div><br /></div><div>My very favorite thing about dental hygenists is how <i>nice</i> they are. I don't think I've ever met one who wasn't just so sickeningly <i>sweet. </i>Think about it....have you? They just bubble and chatter while they sit there with their metal prongs and suction catheters in your mouth, and all you can do is grunt or "aaah haah" at their inane little stories...hoping all the while you don't squirt them with saliva or inadvertently gag on your spit...or some other equally charming thing. Usually while sitting there I think of witty interjections that might or might not have been appropriate to employ, had I the power of speech at that moment. This entertains me a fair bit...since really, the only thing you can do is stare up at the light above you, and look at all the little holes in the ceiling tiles. Intriguing. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, it had been two years since I'd been to my last dentist, a really nice early 40's guy who was just starting a family and all excited about having his first kid. That was two years ago. Anyway, he was a pediatric dentist, or whatever they call them. Beside the point. Point actually being, I had some tartar apparently. Horrible! Tartar is something that old people get. And it's supposed to be really obvious, and nasty, and yellow. Right? Maybe not, because apparently I had some. Also, the hygenist told me, my wisdom teeth were not fully erupted, and my gums were showing some inflammation. She proceeded to take a metal tool to my teeth and vigorously scrape up and down along the gum line, all over my mouth. I was picturing in my mind gargantuan scrapes and gashes being ground into my enamel...that's what this felt like. Like someone taking a wire brush to the inside of your mouth. But apparently, this was just the ritual necessary to remove The Tartar. So be it. But for the record, I hate the taste of blood.</div><div><br /></div><div>.....To be continued.</div><div> </div></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-71540928747470257342009-12-28T19:48:00.000-08:002009-12-28T19:57:29.675-08:00Ghost TownA movie I absolutely love. My younger sister spotted it in a drugstore on DVD for $5. I did a little happy dance, snatched it up, and bought it. (Maybe not in that order). Ricky Gervais is just perfectly cast, and Téa Leoni likewise. I also love the Hindu coworker. Priceless. The movie is full of fun little bits of dry humor which are fabulous to quote in everyday life ("that's it, this must be heaven. I've died and gone to heaven - no can't be, you're here"). It pulls off the feat of being very funny and very touching, something i find less and less in films these days. One of my favorite moments is when Gwen delivers this line to the somber Dr. Pincus: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; ">We just get the one life, you know. Just one. You can't live someone else's or think it's more important just because it's more dramatic. What happens matters. May be only to us, but it matters."</span>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-71627759390660344372009-12-14T20:04:00.000-08:002009-12-14T20:08:50.968-08:00count 'emYour blessings. They are more numerous than you can imagine. <div><br /></div><div>For starters, today: Freedom. Faith. A warm home. People who love me. Health. Education. Many little luxuries. Being safe. Enough food. Clean water to drink and use. Thank you God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.</div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-15203140089509442012009-12-05T14:10:00.000-08:002009-12-05T14:27:35.462-08:00Reality check<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">The following is an excerpt from NAMI's website (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill). </span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">---</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;color:black;"><span><span><em style="font-style: italic; "><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/17/AR2009111703426.html?hpid=moreheadlines" target="_blank" style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">The Washington Post</span></span></span></a></em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">reports that the 2009 Army suicide rate is expected top last year's record high.</span></span></span></span></span></p><p face="arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="12px" color="black" style=" font-weight: normal; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">As of Nov. 16, 140 soldiers on active duty and 71 soldiers not on active duty were thought to have died by suicide. The monthly suicide rate has generally declined since March, which may be in part the result of a campaign to engage more Army leaders in suicide prevention efforts.</span></span></span></span></p><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">-----</span></span></span></p><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I never gave pause to think of what the suicide rate in the military might be. I suppose I am not surprised that a significant number take their lives each year, thinking of what the horrors of war can do to the human psyche. </span></span></span></p><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">In other news, Amanda Knox and her Italian then-boyfriend were found guilty on Thursday of murdering that British exchange student, Meridith Kercher. They maintain their innocence, and I withhold any opinion on their veracity or lack thereof. Maybe they did it, maybe they didn't. Point being, someone took this woman's life, and when any life is lost it is a lamentable thing. I am always amazed at the depths to which the human person can sink, and the darkness we are capable of. My heart also hurts for the millions of young adults who live in ways similar to how I can only assume those students were living. To allow many beautiful mysteries to be unveiled so easily, and by people who don't even care in the end.</span></span></span></p><p style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:arial, verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I want more from life than that.</span></span></span></p></span></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-44375109490880992272009-11-25T08:30:00.000-08:002009-11-25T08:41:38.593-08:00Giving thanks and taking a breakWell, I'm home. It is good to be home. Rachel was in a really really good mood yesterday for the ride, which was awesome. As we were driving through Empire (where I got tagged with a 68-in-a-40 last month), our dialogue goes like this...<div><br /></div><div>Me: "Hey look, we're driving through Empire...."</div><div>Rachel: "...................... . . . . LET'S GO 80!!!!"</div><div><br /></div><div>It made my day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Also we had a good laugh when I told the turnpike booth man to "Take a good Thanksgiving", which I had to think about for awhile, but is apparently a combination of "Take care" and "Have a good Thanksgiving". LOVE IT when I do that!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, I'm going to kill some homework before tomorrow. I just keep reminding myself that, Lord willing, in less than seven months or so I will have my bachelor's, be done with homework indefinitely, and be an RN working for a Magnet hospital.</div><div><br /></div><div>But Your plan, Lord. Not mine.</div><div><br /></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-72340512983586293232009-11-14T20:48:00.000-08:002009-11-14T21:08:58.462-08:00It's been/one week since i've blogged on here/Thank you, Dad, for teaching me how to take care of cars, so that a flat tire is easily handled and not a source of panic! That was Wednesday.<div><br /></div><div>Today was Saturday. After work, and Lord's Day (which was blessed), I went to vigil Mass off campus. After dropping off my sister and her roommate, who accompanied me, I tied up a few loose ends on campus and then headed out. I didn't want to go home, though, and I had a little time to kill before a birthday party/movie night. Also, from nowhere, I found myself being seized by an annoying fit of melancholy. So I sulked around Kroger for a half hour or so, looking at scented candles (which are expensive..) and teddy bears and flowers, and frozen twin packs of little cornish game hens. Those little guys are just so cute. But I really honestly didn't need any more food in my house. I cooked enough food for the whole week just yesterday, successfully using up two of the three bunches of fresh parsely that I found myself with (a story in itself). I did, however, find Quaker Oatmeal Squares on sale for 1.50 a box. Major score.</div><div><br /></div><div>The movie night turned out to be a film called "Forever Strong", which was about rugby. I actually enjoyed it, although I think it may have been mostly because of the people I was watching it with. I LOVE watching movies with McDevitt because he and I have a very similar sense of humor, and share a fondness for MST3K-style running commentary. Unfortunately, it makes some other people absolutely nuts. I am definitely a talking-while-watching-movies person. I don't take my cinema that seriously folks. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, there are many blessings to be grateful for tonight. And there are little things that tweak at my heart from time to time. Welcome to life. </div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-62722408217417346582009-11-09T19:22:00.000-08:002009-11-09T19:26:23.071-08:00idiosyncraticToday I noticed something about myself. I've noticed this before, but I guess I don't really think anything of it. Well, today I noticed it again.<div><br /></div><div>Whenever I am coming home to my house off campus, and i have a lot of stuff with me, I nearly ALWAYS try to take it all into the house in one trip, no matter how much stuff I have. This usually ends up with me dropping stuff, not being able to pick it back up, dumping things accidentally out of my bags, spilling things, wrestling with keys and car doors a whole lot more than if I just made two trips to split up the stuff. But no.</div><div><br /></div><div>For example, about 15 minutes ago I walked into my house laden with my XXL capacity adidas bookbag, my gym bag with running shoes tied to the strap, my guitar, my purse, two cookbooks, and a small plastic tupperware. And this is a fairly light night.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-72114884246784760052009-10-29T11:25:00.000-07:002009-10-29T11:27:34.331-07:00Mal-WartHow dare they be out of pumpkin carving kits! If anyone loses a finger today, it's their fault. <div><br /></div><div>Yellow leaves are the best leaves.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-40422784883583354722009-10-26T21:26:00.001-07:002009-10-26T21:36:40.214-07:00I am a compliant ex-resident student of Franciscan University but some dorm rules make NO SENSE<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Scene: </span>8:1o pm, St. Thomas More Hall. Third floor. Elevator wing. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Culprits:</span> Sarah, talking. Kristin, talking, laughing. Me, painting my toes. Sarah, teaching some guitar chords to a freshman. Freshman, learning said guitar chords.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Crime:</span> sitting in the hall, being "a fire hazard". </div><div><br /></div><div>I would like to point out that if there were to be a fire in St. Thomas More Hall just then, we would definitely be the first ones out. We are already in the hallway.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dear RAs,</div><div> There are bigger problems in your residence halls than girls having fun and building community outside their rooms.</div><div>Sincerely,</div><div> Cecilia</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-37901012248504248852009-10-21T08:04:00.001-07:002009-10-21T08:06:23.827-07:00The paper elephant in the roomSo.....why is it that when there is something important that needs to be done, but I don't want to do it......I do everything else that I possibly can.......just so I don't have to do that other thing.....this is so counter-intuitive, I'm wasting time, putting the time crunch on later, adding to the stress, what the heck!!<div><br /></div><div>In the meantime, I'll listen to John Legend and rock out while drinking this Organic Golden Ginger tea. </div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-37340549099822703902009-10-12T07:45:00.001-07:002009-10-12T08:00:20.072-07:00Humph.Maybe it's the jungle of midterms I have just emerged from. Maybe it's knowing that the work continues this week. Maybe it's just me. But I am finding myself unusually irritated by things today...<div><br /></div><div>1) Grammatical Errors In Test Questions.</div><div>HELLO, YOU ARE A COLLEGE PROFESSOR WITH MULTIPLE DEGREES, PLEASE REALIZE THAT THE POSSESSIVE FORM OF "IT" DOES NOT REQUIRE AN APOSTROPHE. I actually think I would have let this slide, except for the fact that I had to look at this horrible abuse of punctuation three times in a row, and in the same question!</div><div><br /></div><div>2) Distractions During Tests (Aka My Brain).</div><div>Hmmm, I probably should have eaten breakfast. My tea is getting cold. I have a date at 4:30 today, hope I don't forget because I didn't write it in my calendar. Probably because I don't know where my calendar is. Did I tell Rachel I would talk to her last night, or tonight? I know exactly what I'm going to dress up as for Kelli's birthday bash: Bridezilla. I just need to get some tulle for a veil though. That sucks, I don't want to spend money. Would anyone I know have something like a veil I could use? </div><div><br /></div><div>3) Most Loud People.</div><div>They are vexatious to the spirit, as someone wise once said.</div><div><br /></div><div>4) Being Wrong When I Was So Sure I Was Right.</div><div>A blow to my good old pride.</div><div><br /></div><div>5) Cold Hands. Where Are My Awesome Rainbow-Colored Mittens?</div><div><br /></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-4552229915597074112009-10-11T09:40:00.000-07:002009-10-11T10:00:12.640-07:00Love it!I love it, love it, love it when I see gfs and bfs going for a jog together. To me, it says "I care about all aspects of you - let's strive for health of mind, spirit AND body together!" We all know those couples who are eternally praying together in the Port. We all know those couples who are eternally studying together (.............?) in the common rooms. Fewer and golden are those couples who practice physical wellness together!<br /><br />"For you have been bought at a price...therefore glorify God in your body". -1 cor. 6:20Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-41782158275834529512009-10-08T13:06:00.000-07:002009-10-08T13:11:13.699-07:00I saw Liz Wilbur!Liz Wilber came to visit! It was super to see her...we had a really good conversation. Neither of us could believe that we had only been talking for an hour; definitely felt like an hour and a half long conversation. We picked right back up like it had just been yesterday we'd last chatted. I love you Liz!<br /><br />So, I am super tired right now. Explain THAT to my body...seriously, I got like seven hours of sleep last night, that should be good enough. There is something more or less unpleasant about midterms. Honestly, explain to me the academic benefit of giving students papers and cumulative tests in all their classes....AT THE SAME TIME.<br /><br />On the upside, I really like Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal bars. They are really cinnamony and crunchy. I like things that crunch. But not chips.<br /><br />Pax, everyone. Jesus Christ has won the victory.Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-23684772343865775582009-10-07T06:55:00.000-07:002009-10-07T07:04:43.943-07:00Mi vida no es nada sin TiOn this chilly, silver fall morning, I am revisiting some sultry spanish music that I haven't really endulged in since freshman year, I think......mmmmmmm. Combined with the bowl of shredded wheat and perfect banana I had, and the fresh, kind of salty feeling of just having cried a great deal over beautiful letters from some dear friends..........encapsulates this a.m. for me.<div><br /></div><div>Two days ago when I was in the library, I was unfortunate enough to spill three quarters of the contents of my water bottle (..which was water..) all over my section of the research station in the library. Within thirty seconds there were three guys with stacks of paper towels helping to clean it up. Thank you, men of Franciscan. <br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-44552205734306963722009-09-28T09:14:00.000-07:002009-09-28T09:43:39.456-07:00Mondays don't have to be badRight now it is so beautiful outside. It is so beautiful. It mystifies me why I am sitting here writing this blog entry, and not being outside. I'm going running with Grace in like 40 minutes though, so that will be glorious. Thank the Lord. It is fall.<br /><br />I spent this past weekend at home with my family. My first birthday present was a rather large lesson in humility, in the form of an equally large speeding ticket......swell....there goes my perfect record. This in all seriousness was the very first time I'd ever been pulled over since getting my license almost five years ago. ANYWAY. I'm so over that! It was bad luck...the guy in front of me was going at least that fast.<br /><br />Anyhow despite that opening, and the fact that it rained most of the weekend, I had a good time. I always love seeing my little brothers, who are up to their usual...tearing around the house and taking up the whole futon room with their legos. It was great to see mom and dad as well. Also saw my cousin and aunt, who came up on Saturday. Mycousin got me a cute little bag of gifts, amonst which was a 3 disc set of the first Die Hard movies!<br /><br />And when I got back to school the surprises didn't stop. Seriously...<br /><br />So thanks everybody, it was really wonderful. Now I've got to organize my life and start getting some stuff done. It's an academic jungle safari coming up this week!Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-34193063234732277492009-09-21T16:25:00.000-07:002009-09-21T16:34:51.167-07:00LillywhiteThis post is titled in honor of Cat Stevens. <div><br /></div><div>Sometimes, life comes at you fast. You are forced into sitting up straight and asking yourself honestly, just what am I doing with my life...why am I wasting my time selfishly, idly...why aren't I really, really listening for the voice of God, and why am I hesitant to hand over my plans, my dreams, in exchange for His? And why does it take something beyond my control, like physical suffering, to bring me back to the ultimate question (that I should already be answering, every day)..."What is my place in your plan, Lord?" </div><div><br /></div><div>My joy is in pursuit of this. </div><div><br /></div><div>Pray for me!</div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-42930982566639023592009-09-09T13:33:00.000-07:002009-09-09T13:56:49.887-07:00Today, I am not a fan of refrigerators so cold that they freeze your salad. Many things are delicious frozen.....ice cream, granita, freezie-pops... mushrooms and spinach are not.<br /><br />Yesterday, our flag football team, the Super Sweet Show Ponies, won our season opener against The Abusement Park. It was my first game ever, and I did enjoy it, even though my position (O-line) entails mostly running into people and getting a lot of bruises... I have a riDIculously nasty shin bruise, but as long as it's not like a fracture or anything I don't care that much.<br /><br />Right now, I'm watching my fish Marvin and Merlin swim little circles in their fishbowl and studying a little Med/Surg nursing...ah, I love my life.Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-21532988712924840982009-08-15T19:16:00.000-07:002009-08-15T19:19:34.966-07:00Didn't think I'd be doing this...So since getting back to school and moving into my house, i'm realizing more and more how difficult it is to buy food and cook for just one person...I have eaten out more in the past week than I have for the past three months all together. I've known some people who lived on their own, and I would give them a hard time about not cooking for themselves more...well, never again. I have seen the error of my ways! Now, this doesn't mean that I'm NOT going to cook for myself. Because I will not be daunted...<br /><br />Also, I've watched in these past few days the first 17 or so episodes of a japanese cartoon series called Death Note....I'm hooked. Didn' see THAT coming.Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-55256557381495881312009-08-01T19:35:00.000-07:002009-08-01T19:45:11.652-07:00Goodbye, JulyI'm not so much happy to see July gone as I am glad to see August come. August means three things:<div> 1) I get to participate in the wedding of a very dear friend, my household sister Mary Droz (soon to be Mary George!). This entails carpooling across several states with a few other household sisters, going to a bachelorette party, sleeping over at Mary's house for several nights, rehearsing with the organist, and singing for the wedding! So much excitement. I simply can't wait.</div><div> 2) I get to pack up and go back to Steubenville. My second home. My home away from home. A place that sometimes feels more like a home than my own home does. A place that I'd better be ready to get the hell out of by May when I graduate - because otherwise, I'm going to be heartbroken. I get to move into the house that I'm renting, and make it a cozy little home for a year...houseplants included. </div><div> 3) I start my final year of nursing school. That's right. The externship I worked all summer has excited and energized me, and I'm looking forward to being a student extraordinaire...growing in wisdom, grace and knowledge. I can hardly wait to whip out the crisp new sheets of paper and hit them with my felt fine-tipped pens. And to my infinite joy, we have a class with Harris again. Praise God. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, August offers me the promise of many good and pleasant things to come. July was great, but by no fault of it's own, it just wasn't August. And August will be great.</div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4325179555817850423.post-62086788718548790962009-07-21T20:59:00.000-07:002009-07-21T21:44:31.130-07:00The gift unasked forWhat makes a person want to die?<div><br /></div><div>This feeling that everyone in your life would be better off without you - that there is nothing to look forward to, that you are too tired to go on, that life is cruel and exhausting, that there is no reason to continue to live - how do you come to this feeling, and then believe it, and finally invest in it, with aspirin and vodka, a razor, a gun to the head?</div><div><br /></div><div>There are so many layers of self-preservation woven into the human fabric...and yet they are overridden by grief, distress, psychological disturbance, fear, despair...agents too potent at times for the weakened human condition. </div><div><br /></div><div>What strikes me most, however, is how powerless I am in the face of the intensity of despair and depression felt by another. Preserved as I have been from these depths of suffering, I have no words to touch them, and my natural inclination to give advice is thwarted. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Life is a gift". We did not ask for it, and yet here we are - manifestations of the mysterious creative energy of God. As such, we are keepers of a treasure not our own. I will show my love of God - by my love and care of what he has created: my life and the lives of others. Though it be laborious and excruciating, somehow He calls us to journey back to Him, bearing the life He gave us. For some, life is deep pain - and I can only imagine the courage and grace it takes them to face it, and the glory they give God in struggling through. </div><div><br /></div><div>For those who take their lives into their own hands, Mother Church is yet a true Mother and intercessor for her children. "We should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. <i>By ways known to him alone</i>, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance. The Church prays for persons who have taken their own lives." (CCC 2283)</div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps the question we should rather pose is this: What makes a person want <i>to live</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>St. Jude and St. Dymphna, pray for us.</div>Ceciliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01157303643872081203noreply@blogger.com1