Life, the Universe, Everthing

Well, I'm trying to finish up a section of my thesis to send off to my thesis director. I'm so distracted by so many things. I have dirty dishes in the sink, loud neighbors, loud neighbors' loud dogs, and trying to figure out how to have Christmas with two families. I have an ill family member, teacher evaluations (for me), and filing to do. I have meals to plan, groceries to buy, and dinners to cook. What is funny about all of this is that the one person that keeps me from going insane is also usually the one person that stresses me the most. I honestly believe that it's part of loving someone. No one is perfect so you have to deal with the small annoyances to get to the great person. There are so many cliches that are popping into my head: If you can't beat them, join them; something about lumps in mashed potatoes; I'm only human. Yeah, my mind isn't working very well if you can't tell. That's why I'm writing here for a moment instead of on my thesis. I would hate for writing this cruddy to end up on my thesis.

I had a brilliant moment the other day with my thesis. My dad was able to help me out and find a book that I really needed but could only seem to find in far away cities. Tomorrow I'll have a photocopy of the section I need. I'm really excited to sit down and read it.

I don't have much else to report. I'm excited for Christmas but not excited for having to drive a few hundred miles in a matter of a week. My birthday is also coming up and I have completely forgotten to plan anything. This is fairly common since my birthday is so close to Christmas and New Year.

I should get back to the important writing. It may be cruddy but that's better than blank pages. I might delete this post later. The writing is just horrid.

On Car Maintanence

Ever since my sister JM got her car, I have enjoyed working on cars. She let me help change oil, change tires, and other little repairs. I say "work on cars" in a very loose way. The most complicated thing I've done was to change the cabin air filter. On my car, this would normally be a five minute job. Oh, but the town I live in doesn't seem to appreciate my Korean-born car. I was smart enough to look-up the part number that I needed and go to the closest car part store. I was a little upset that they didn't have it but I thought, "I'll just go to their other location a couple of miles away." Luckily, I was smart enough to ask an employee if he could check the availability before I left. That particular store doesn't carry the part . . . in any of their stores nation-wide. Yes, it was on the web site but that was only for those who wanted it special ordered. Ha! I wasn't going to fall for that money hole so I set off to go to their competitor.

 After checking their telephone book-like guide on proper parts for every car known to man, I began my search on the shelves. Lo and behold, they had none. I did not even bother to ask if another branch had it. I moved to my last resort, my personal hell: the ever-overcrowded Wal-Mart (God help my soul). After looking through their manuals and finding blank spaces for "cabin air filter", I simply asked an employee. No Wal-Mart in the United Freaking States of America has my filter in stock. They do not even do special orders. At this point you must think I own an Opal or a 1969 Mustang *drool*. Nope. I drive a Kia Spectra. It may not be as popular as Honda but it was not specially shipped here just for me.

I ended my search and just went home. I thanked God for online shopping until I actually started shopping. Amazon.com sells two brands of filters that fit my car. One costs twelve dollars but would take a month to arrive. The other costs eighteen but I could get it in a matter of days. I chose the more expensive in hopes that I might get it before the weekend. All in all, I suppose all of the insanity was worth it just to avoid a $55 bill to have a professional do it.

Stop looking so smug. I hate your perfectly white fibers.

A new church

I'm not known to be someone who purposefully goes past her comfort level. This is true with religion and, more specifically, where I attend church services. I have been going to the same type of church my entire life. I was born and raised in one sect of Christianity and have only been to a handful of services for different types of Christianity. As I meet more Christians, my ideas about Christianity have changed slightly. I have realized that all of these different sects of Christianity are not, for the most part, very different from each other. Yes, services can be incredibly varied from church to church but the underlying command never changes: love.

Yesterday was my first time to go to a Sunday service at a church that falls into the same traditions with which my boyfriend grew up knowing. The only things that I found different were the music and the congregation. Some of the music was not what I prefer for Sunday service. However, I did enjoy the challenge to sight sing music with complex melodies. It has been a long time since I have seen a 6/8 time signature. The music wasn't what caught my attention though.

I have never met a group of such outgoing people in a church. It seemed that almost everyone wanted to introduce themselves to us and welcome us personally to their church. No one tried to push us into joining, donating money, or taking part in their ministries. They simply expressed their happiness to meet us and their hope that they would see us again. What actually shocked me was that not a soul found it odd that I was not the same type of Christian as them and that I have no plans of changing that. I learned that this church had Baptists, Lutherans, Roman Catholics, Methodists, etc and it didn't matter. My boyfriend and I agreed that these Christians seem to look at our religion in the same light. We may give ourselves different names for what we believe but that's not what matters. In the end, we all were there to praise God, learn how to love, and to support each other. This is a church that seems to have the message right: love God, follow his laws, and love each other. The rest will come along naturally.

On the Death of Pets

Pets have always been like part of the family for me. It's hard to describe their place but it is definitely there. I cannot explain to people who don't have pets what it feels like when one passes. This animal that you have raised and cared for is suddenly gone. Although they are just furry little creatures they always seem able to burrow their way into my heart. I can have an animal in my life for months or for years but it always hurts when I have to say good-bye. Maybe my problem is that I get too attached too quickly. Then again, I think that it might be my best attribute. I have always seen animals as a beautiful part of our world and it's hard to see part of that beauty leave.

Human Drama

I live on a fairly busy one-way street. Every now and then I see car accidents outside of my window. Today was one of those days. My boyfriend shouted at me from across the house that there had been a car accident and one car had flipped and was pinned between the light pole and the car below it. He grabbed his shoes and was leaving when I told him I would call 911. Since he has some medical training, he went straight to the scene. Since I don't have as much control of my emotions when emergencies happen, I went down the street. I stood in the middle of the road and directed traffic away from the accident. About 15 minutes later, a police car drove up and parked across the two lanes of the road. He quickly thanked me and I went back to the house (toward the accident). From my front yard, I searched for my boyfriend in the crowd and saw that he was still assisting people. I then noticed the crowd.

You see, while directing traffic, I noticed a few people on foot walking toward the accident. This is nothing extraordinary because there is a grocery store near there. It wasn't until I was entering my house that I noticed that the same people whom I had assumed were going to the grocery store were standing on the corner staring at the emergency team and the wreck. They had not witnessed the accident. They were not calming down the victims or helping in any way. They were just watching. It makes me feel sick. When I was 10 years old, I was in a car accident with my mom. We were on a busy road early in the evening. I watched as cars in the other lane slowed down to look at me, the totaled minivan, the other car, and, worst of all, my mom being put on a stretcher. I was doing my best to stay composed until my dad arrived. The medics and police were wonderful. The medic who drove the ambulance let me sit in the front seat and chatted with me. However, I couldn't help but see out of the corner of my eye those cars. They weren't trying to pass, they intended to stop and see what had happened.

Why do people think that this is an acceptable response to an accident? Those people they are watching aren't actors. This is a real tragedy in the victims' lives and they want to treat it like a TV show. I hate it.

However, there is a silver lining. My boyfriend just informed me that there were also multiple people who immediately jumped out of their cars to help. A worker from the grocery store jumped into the flipped car without a second's hesitation. Even though the gas tank was leaking and had created a pool under one car, they were under and on the car trying to wrestle out the passengers before the weight of the car injured them further. In the end, there were no fatalities but more than one person will be staying in the hospital today. I just thank God that for all of those people who stop to stare, there are still many that will do everything they can to help.

"La Virgo María, madre del buen Criado"

I was re-reading Berceo's introduction to Milagros this morning. It's so beautiful. You think that he's just rambling about a beautiful prado where he rested under the shade of a tree. However, he is able to tie this beauty to Mary. He's thinking about how pilgrims love to find these meadows to rest. He then thinks about the devotion to Mary that these pilgrims, and really everyone, have. He talks about Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, Saint Augustine, Gideon, David, and Aaron. They all were devoted to Mary. This veneration, obsession even, is nothing new.

I really must point out my favorite stanza. I will not translate it because I feel like I cannot truly capture the beauty of Berceo's writing.

Ella es dicha fuent     de qui todos bevemos,

ella nos dio el cevo     de qui todos comemos;

ella es dicha puerto     a qui todos corremos,

e puerta por la qual     entrada atendemos.

That stanza captures what Mary is to her children. Yes, Jesus saved mankind from Hell but he can feel so far away and too mighty for humans to be worthy of bothering him. Mary is humble, she is a mother. She is the font out of which sinners drink. She gives rest to the weary, possibly in a beautiful prado with perfumed flowers. She is the first step to God toward which people in medieval Spain went. They were comforted by the idea of such a perfect haven. Who wouldn't be? Berceo wrote these stories to continue a long standing tradition of telling tales of Mary and of attributing to her how simple men were able to survive the impossible. Sounds like a perfect reason to write if you ask me.

Vacation

My vacation for this Summer was this past weekend. Here's a quick run-down of what happened:

1. Sunday: Arrived safely at my parents' house with boyfriend and two dogs. Car receives a stain from a car-sick dog.
2. Monday: Accidentally soak my contacts lenses in a hydrogen peroxide solution. Able to rinse eyes in a timely manner.
3. Get plant killer in my eyes while helping my mom at her rental property. My boyfriend safely guided me to the water hose in time to rinse my eyes.
4. Do more yard work at the rental house and a little bit at my parents' house.
5. NAP
6. Enjoy evening spending time with my boyfriend and parents.
7. Tuesday: Start the day off at a waterpark!
8. About to leave waterpark for lunch when I realize I lost the canister holding my boyfriend's credit card and my keys.
9. Freak out.
10. Find out that a decent person found the canister and gave it to a lifeguard. Calm down.
11. Lunch at Sonic.
12. NAP
13. Putt-putt and arcade games with the boyfriend. I won putt-putt.
14. Guy on moped drives into the lobby of the arcade. We are the only two that seem to find this odd.
15. Wednesday: Awesome homemade breakfast cake. Finish tokens at arcade.
16. Find out that one dog had destroyed a pillow, a napkin, and vommitted twice on my parents' carpet.
17. Get home safely with one boyfriend, and two dogs. No new stains on the car. Hamster and fish survived a few days by themselves.

I've had enough excitement. Back to work on the thesis!

Mistakes

Having gotten to later miracles in Milagros de Nuestra Señora, I have found myself very wrong about a few things. Firstly, not all of the miracles have a male as a sinner. This makes the feminist in me very happy. However, I do have a few thoughts on the significance that miracle #21 has a pregnant religious woman. She is the sinner in that story. My modern mind doesn't like the fact that the man is not seen as a sinner. However, I can appreciate the fact that the woman had taken very specific vows of chastity. It still irks me slightly. Secondly, not all of those who find themselves receiving help from Mary are Christian. I don't know how I feel about this. Spain has had some anti-Semitic feelings for, well, most of its history. My gut reaction is to say that it is anti-Semitic because the author pins a Jew for sinning but then I realize that the author pins everyone for sinning. Using a Jew is just to illustrate one of the basic ideas of Milagros: everyone can be, and is, a sinner. Jews, Christians, men, women, priests, and nuns are all sinners.

Well, I need to finish up an annotated bibliography for tomorrow. It's the first one I've ever done. It's kind of a pain in the neck but I can definitely see the appeal. It's great to have a run down of books that could be useful for a paper (and why) and a list of books that have nothing to do with the paper. It's hard to really say which ones are "useful" right now because I'm still trying to figure out what exactly is my thesis. Then again, I think that's why I'm making an annotated bibliography. One of my former teachers advised us that we had to go through a lot of books and articles to get an inspiration for the paper and then we could think about our topic. We had to wade through books on Don Quixote and then, by reading some, find what interested us. Then we could go back and pick the books that discussed in detail the topic we had decided upon. That was the first teacher that ever told me how to start a research paper. I am very grateful for that lesson.

Mary: Defined by Men

While reading all of these books about Mary, I've noticed a pattern. She is always defined by her relationship with Jesus or Joseph. No one seems to want to talk about who she is; everyone talks about who she is to her family. Now, I do understand that when looking at the Bible there isn't a lot of information on Mary and that is understandable. The New Testament revolves around Jesus, as it should. However, why haven't people even speculated on Mary as an individual? Marianism is prevalent even today as you can see with the many religious orders devoted to her, the religious rituals around her, and even simply the prayer The Hail Mary. I have been told my whole life that I should imitate Mary and from that I have become a slight Marianist myself. However, I can't help but notice that other than the obvious wonderful qualities such as chastity, devotion to God, and humility, this seems to imply some qualities that I am not sure I really like. To be like Mary, do I also have to be defined by the men in my life? Do I have to be "Joseph's wife" and "Jesus' mother" and nothing else? I beg my readers to understand that I know these are wonderful and honorable titles. Being the mother of God incarnate is the highest honor for a woman. However, I feel like scholars have mostly ignored any other titles she bears. Even in Milagros she is looked at via her connection with a man. Look at her apparitions in Fátima, Portugal, Our Lady of Light, or in Lourdes, France. Why are we not truly amazed by these? Why are Christian children not taught this in Sunday school? It is so wonderful to me to hear of my religion being truly alive! Am I the only woman who feels that these apparitions by Our Mother are as significant to our religion as the work of the original apostles? I feel that the only reason they are not given as much respect is because they do not include a man.

It is these Marian apparitions that bring peace to me. She told Sister Agnes Sasagawa in Japan (1973) that "Those who place their confidence in me will be saved." Berceo certainly was thinking that when he was writing Milagros. Maybe Berceo helped boost the popularity of seeing Mary as a holy entity by herself. After the middle ages we seem to see more and more the works of Mary. Maybe while living in our world she was simply a servant of God, a woman devoted to the men of her family. But now, as part of the community of saints, she is Our Mother. She is loving and protecting us by herself just as every mother loves her children. Maybe we have seen her works more because we need to believe in her more. Maybe this world is searching for it's true mother and she is desperately trying to tell us that she has always been here.

A Feminist Mary

While at the library today, I had a pretty cool little thought about Mary (mom of Jesus, not Magdalene). In Milagros de Nuestra Señora, when we strip every story down to the basics, they always have  a woman (Mary) save a man (a sinner). Considering that this was written in medieval Spain, that's a pretty big deal. It has that feminist "anything you can do, I can do better" feel to it. Mary confronts Satan over the souls of these men and always wins. As my boyfriend pointed out, Mary in the Bible is exactly what feminists are fighting against: being type-casted as a mother, homemaker, virgin, quiet, obedient to the male rulers in her life, etc. In Milagros, she is a feminist hero. Damsel in distress? No, we have idiotic men being saved by Mary. Yes, she still is very feminine but not in the derogatory way of being weak and without a backbone. In a polite medieval way, she is kicking a$$ and taking names for those who love her. She doesn't need any help from a man at all. That's not to say that I don't respect Mary for being humble, chaste, and a mother. I just think it's nice to see her in a more powerful role. Instead of suggesting Jesus helps (wedding at Cana), she takes charge herself. Man, thinking about all of this woman-power makes you want to burn a bra.

Idle Hands

At this juncture in my life, I am taking a Summer course while my boyfriend has the Summer off. Like any relationship, we have had our ups and downs. However, it seems that having one of us working while the other is on vacation is a definite down. He feels like I will bite off his head if he interrupts me while I'm working (which is fairly accurate) and I feel like I don't have a chance to do my work because I need all of my attention on my task at hand. So we had a long discussion today. Lesson: we grew up in very different families and we work in two totally different ways. We are learning how the other person functions and are trying to adjust to that. I have to be very verbal about when it is ok and not ok to interrupt me and he has to be more verbal about what his plans are so that I can figure out my day to mesh with his. In the end, it's all about communication. Slowly but surely we are getting into each other's mind and we are seeing a new world. Let me tell you something: those shades of gray are really tough to distinguish.

Wow, this is probably the worst writing I've done in a while. I blame the time of day and the stress I'm feeling. I'll admit that I half-assed this. Oh well. Next time I won't have six pages of translations to work through. Oh my gosh, I ended a sentence in a preposition. I ought to get to bed. My writing is only getting worse as the hours pass by me.

I speak for the trees!

While walking from my car to class this morning (since I'm too cheap to get a parking permit), I noticed that some university employees were cutting down a tree. I am assuming and hoping that it was diseased or dead already. While thinking about the poor tree, I remembered a little story from my days at nerd school.

Before I arrived at this particular school, there was a beautiful, large tree next to the dormitory. It provided shade for the book nerds and something to climb for the athletic nerds. However, to the shock of all the residents, it was cut down one day. It had been declared dead and a risk to the building if it should fall the wrong way. All that was left was a stump. The nerds would not stand for this! In Dr. Seuss fashion, a Lorax was carved into the tree and the words "I speak for the trees" were etched next to it. You see, once the tree was chopped down, it was realized that it had actually been completely healthy. After a while the school took away the stump and planted a new tree upon the request of the students.

So here's your lesson for the day. Measure twice and cut once . . . or never!

Not enough time to think of a cute title

I need to get something off my chest. I am Roman Catholic. Yes, the church along with other religions and Christian denominations can be really screwy. Yes, it is difficult to explain why I am so adamant that non-Catholics should not receive communion at a Catholic church. No, not everything we do comes from the Bible. Yes, our services are not as laid back as other denominations and it has a very certain order to it. No, I don't agree with all of the teachings of the Catholic church. Yes, I'm still Catholic (see the Nicene Creed). Now can we all just chill out? I like to discuss my beliefs and the beliefs of other people. It fascinates me how many beautiful religions we have. I don't appreciate feeling like I need to defend every detail about my faith or everything that people of my faith have done. Have major leaders in the Catholic church messed up? Oh heck yes! People are imperfect. End of story. No matter what religion, nationality, sex, gender, or age, we all err. Now, can we get back to finding out how to feed to hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, and spread love? 'Cause that's what really matters.

/rant

Death and Memories

I received an e-mail today that I see all too often: "[My University] Mourns the Death of a Student". Reading that line filled my head with memories. As an undergrad in my second year, a new friend died suddenly in a car crash while driving back to school after a weekend at home. Nobody found out why she crashed into that tree that day. I was called by the school newspaper because she was a freshman and I was her Resident Assistant. They wanted to know what she was like. What could I say? I stumbled over some words about her beauty that shone through her smile and her love of reading and horses. What I wanted to say is that she was someone that, after meeting once, I had wanted to become close friends with. We had so much in common! We were both bubbly people that wanted to open our hearts to everyone. I thought that we were going to be close friends. I was wrong. I couldn't go to the funeral; I felt stupid for mourning someone I barely knew.

Death has never been too far away. Just a month after graduation, a close friend died. She had had heart surgery as a child and one night her heart just stopped. When I heard the news, my legs fell from underneath me. There was no way that a 21 year-old dancing, singing, loving girl could die.  That night, my friends became family. We had no one to help us through it except each other. Our families were scattered around the country so we turned to each other. It's been over a year since she started a dance party in heaven and I still miss her so much.

My sister was able to go to visit our first home, Virginia, a week or two ago. While there she visited the grave of our sister, Michelle. That's the last memory I have of Virginia, visiting that cemetery. I was four years old, almost five. I felt bad for leaving her all by herself. We had no other family there. Who would visit her? I think I'm the only sibling who has not gone back yet. I want to go see the house we lived in and visit Michelle. I want to place a stone on her place marker to let her know and anyone who sees her that she has not been forgotten. She will always be loved.

Can't Sleep

I can't seem to fall asleep so I thought I might write something in here. First off, I have to point out that I can hear the June bugs flying against the window trying desperately to get in. It's really creeping me out. I hate bugs.

So, I was watching a show where actors in a public place act out a true to life scene to see how people will react. One was done in a town not far from me where a bakery worker refused to serve a woman because she was "dressed like a terrorist" (that is to say, wearing a hijab). Half of the people spoke up against the worker. The other half gave him a thumbs up or told him that he was doing the right thing. Disgusting.

The reason I bring this up is that a more recent episode had a man interviewing to work at a restaurant. The interview was being held at the restaurant at one of the tables on the floor. The actor playing the manager tells the man that he cannot wear his yarmulke to work. The actor playing the interviewee says it is illegal to require him to take off religious garb. (This is very true, by the way) This got me thinking.

Lay Christians are not known for any religious clothing with the possible exception of the mantilla. (Here's the wiki article for a brief overview)A few, such as myself, wear scapulars. Few people notice this little "necklace" that I wear and most that do see it mistakenly call it jewelry. I have seen some whose scapulars are large and ornate with color embroidery of Mary. Mine is small and quite simple. One piece of cloth as a script "M". The other has a small drawing of Mary. I feel that this better embodies the idea behind this scapular. It is to remind me of my devotion to Mary and my aim to be more like her: modest and completely faithful to God. There is no need for everyone to see what I hold in my heart. Anyway, it's difficult to explain why I think wearing this will help me gain favor with Our Lady. I don't know how I would respond if an employer asked me to not wear it. I would feel naked and vulnerable. I would worry what Mary would think of me if it was so easy to convince me to take off this symbol of my love. I think it would feel almost as odd as a married person being required to take off their wedding ring. What it symbolizes is so much more important than any job or any person.

Well, my brain isn't getting anywhere past this. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I feel like the sinners in Milagros de Nuestra Señora. I have this crazy idea that if I love God and Mary and show that through daily prayer that I might have a chance to be forgiven of my sins when it is my turn to be judged. Then again, I might be off my rocker. It's always a little hard to tell with me.

Ironing

    
     I know it probably sounds crazy but I love ironing.  It gives me a chance to think and let my mind go where it needs to go.  The big bonus is that I end up with lovely clothes and a new look on things.  However, there is a down side.  Too much thinking gets me into trouble.  I over analyze and scrutinize every detail of my life.  This never leads me to good conclusions.  I always end up wishing that life was more like a dress.  Rip?  Sew it.  Wrinkle?  Iron it.  Stain?  Wash it.  Too worn to wear?  Toss it and find a new one.  Unfortunately we only have one life whether we like it or not.  It may not seem to fit or we may get tired of it but we are stuck.  (I guess that's the beauty of the idea of reincarnation; there's hope that the next life will fit you better.)  Overall, my life fits me very well.  Every now and then I want to add something to it, a little more color.  But sometimes, oh so rarely, I just want to re-make or maybe tailor a part of it.  But I don't have a big enough sewing machine.

A Long Day

Here's a try at a video blog!

Sooooooo, when I watch this it is going wickedly fast and only shows about 38 seconds. If it's the same for you, don't worry. It wasn't an interesting post anyway. :)

Sinners

Have you ever noticed that we only hear stories about really awful sinners being forgiven for their sins and never about those "smaller" sins?  Peter is forgiven for denying the Son of God three times and then we call him the first pope.  Criminal crucified next to Jesus?  I don't know what he did to get up on that cross but it must have been heinous.  He gets to see Jesus in the kingdom.  The whole crowd that condemned Jesus to death?  "Forgive them Father, for they know not what they are doing."  I know the reason for these stories is obvious:  if God forgives these sinners, surely he will forgive us.  Then again, my Protestant friends believe that all sins are equal.  Yes, they are all bad because they all come from us purposely turning away from God.  I never quite understood what Protestants meant by "equal" though.  So, it's just as bad to lie as to murder?  Well I feel awful for lying but my goodness, it makes murder seem not so bad.  I suppose it's away of pointing out that even what we think is the smallest, least noticeable sin is an affront to God.  Any sin means that I, a person who claims to love God above all, made a conscious decision to ignore his wishes.  The little girl in me can't help but think, "It's like disobeying daddy but a bajillion times worse!"

I don't know what the purpose of this post is.  I was just thinking about sin and such since Easter is coming up.  It's a sad time but really hopeful too.  I hated Good Friday as a kid.  I was thought, "The only good part is that I don't go to school."  I mean, we had three hours of silence in the house. (To commemorate the approximate three hours that Jesus was on the cross)  If you know me, you know that isn't easy.  I tried to pray or read the Bible but three hours was just too long for that.  I always ended up taking a nap.  This didn't help because then I just felt so guilty for not being able to spend a measly three hours with God.  On the other hand, I was able to understand the agony in the garden.  If I felt bad falling asleep for a couple of hours during a time of meditation, how guilty did the disciples feel when the feel asleep when their Lord, teacher, and friend asked them to spend some time with him in his time of need?  Then, next thing they know, he's on a cross dying.  Yet they saw him resurrected and from that joy were able to understand why Jesus had to die and why his message was so important to tell.  Every Good Friday I wait anxiously for Easter Sunday to feel that relief that I too have been forgiven; to know that there is nothing I could do that God won't forgive me for if I am truly sorry.

I was going to tie this into Milagros de Nuestra Señora but I cannot remember how.  All the stories have a main character who is a big sinner but loves Mary and prays to her often.  Just like our mothers here, she will do anything to help her child.  It's impossible to stop loving someone who looks up to you and loves you so innocently.  Does this innocent love for Mary show their ability to be innocent?  Perhaps.  I will have to think more about this.  I should really look to see if the sins in the book are sins of omission or of commission.  I've been intrigued with these two classifications ever since I read the short story Pecado de Omisión (Sin of Omission) by Ana María Matute a few years ago.  Which is worse?  Or do the Protestants have it right?  Are all sins equal?  That answer will have to wait for another day.

 Dalí's painting Cristo de San Juan de la Cruz

Repurposing

I'll admit it. I'm awful at keeping up with blogs and diaries. So, yet again, I'm using this blog for a new reason. Or rather, I'm not going to put a big ol' label on how I'm going to use this. When I want to write, I'll write here. My thesis director suggested that I write my ideas for my thesis on a blog so that I can see my overall thought process and so that both of us can access these ideas quickly.

While I'm thinking about it, let me attempt to explain my vague idea on my thesis. I want to write about Milagros de Nuestra Señora. It's a series of stories from medieval Spain about sinners who are saved by the Virgin Mary because they were devout to her. As a catholic, this is very close to my heart. I love Mary. Pretty cool lady, if you ask me. Anyway, as for the thesis, I want to discuss the affect of Mary in Spain or how these stories are still relevant today and why they are so popular. I want to really focus on Mary. I've found a prayer that is a petition to Mary that might bring some inspiration. We'll see.

In other news, the semester is drawing to a close and I have so much to do! I have three papers to write (all in Spanish) and loads of studying to do. Today we had no class so I took the time to clean up my place, do laundry, organize my work space, go to church for a rehearsal, and get ready for a presentation tomorrow. The rehearsal is for Palm Sunday. I get to be the narrator for the Passion! I'm so excited! I just have to figure out how to say 'Cyrenian' and where the emphasis is on 'Golgotha'. The presentation tomorrow is a little "world fair" for a nearby elementary school. Myself and a few other grad students will be representing Spain. I'm bringing my fan and music box plus the books Don Quixote and Poema de Mio Cid. As you may guess, I will be showing LOTS of photos from my trip there. :) It sounds like fun and I might be dragged into attempting to do the flamenco.

Well, I have plenty of work I ought to be doing. We'll see when the muses next strike me.