Love in a Modern World

First off, a refreshing defense of true love in a shallow, cynical culture by Fr. Longenecker.

Followed by a thought-provoking project, wherein Italian artist Anna Utopia Giordano photoshops classic nude paintings, nipping the waistline and, ahem, augmenting the bust. More than a little depressing, no? Honestly, it surprised me how wrong the thinner versions looked, practically emaciated. So much for the modern standards of beauty.

Auntie Seraphic Does It Again

Have we mentioned yet how much we love Auntie Seraphic? No? Well, on a scale of line-dried sheets to Jane Austen, she's right below Jane Austen. By that much.

A Round of "Awws"

Paul Newman's letter to his wife on their wedding day. Sweetest. Thing. Ever.

only skin-deep

My mother just sent me this beautiful article by Laurel Rae Mathewson:

The year before I was a senior in high school, I went on an exchange to France. I got skinny. When I returned to America, I felt great, looked great, and received high praise. That post-France pinnacle of svelteness is where my troubles with food began in earnest. Any more pounds represented failure, a deviation from "my best self." I began eating emotionally. I gained 10 pounds.

At New Year's I decided to get serious about getting back to the "right" size. In good-student fashion, I read reputable books and magazines and followed all the rules. I was the ideal dieter. I ran and lifted weights. Mathematical tricks of weight-loss became second nature: The calories in an apple (small, medium, or large); which foods satisfy most for the fewest calories (pancakes are great for this). I steadily lost 1.5 pounds a week for eight weeks and was in better shape than ever. My dieting was officially healthy, nutritionally balanced, and utterly obsessive.

During winter quarter I reached the nadir of my journey with food and with God. I felt inadequate and disgusting. I desperately wanted God's help in ending this vicious cycle, but God never seemed to fully deliver. When I was stuffed, bloated, and incapacitated from a binge, I would pray, weeping: Take this from me. Help me. I don't want to be like this. I believed salvation would come from obeying the legalistic idol of strict self-control and self-improvement that I thought God endorsed. As I wrote in my journal:

God did not create me to consume my time worrying about calories. I know how sick it is ... so why don't I stop? Why do I create my own problems? ... Am I afraid of perfect happiness? … Why else would I sabotage all the gifts that I've been given, keep myself from thriving? … My thoughts disturb and distract me in lecture, in church, in conversation. … I count every calorie that goes into my mouth; yet it doesn't stop me from eating an entire package of cookie dough.

Perfect happiness. I thought it was mine for the making—and that God expected nothing less.

Food is a gift from God to be enjoyed, especially with others, creating communion and fellowship. It's not meant to be an idol. Like sex, like work, like material comfort, if we seek to satisfy the hunger of our souls with food alone, we will remain empty. I used food to cope with the spiritual void of an "estrangement" from God, created by my own conviction that I could perfect myself, given enough determination and discipline. Disordered eating was my symptom of accepting neither grace nor my need for it.

Read the rest of the article here. It's so good, I wanted to copy and paste the whole thing, but I felt like that may be slightly unethical (proper internet/blogging citation procedure is still slightly shrouded in mystery to me.) The authoress brings up beautiful points about the struggles of body image, from the unique perspective of a woman of Faith.

One of my favorite lines from her article is: "I was created for a higher purpose than a size 6." It's so true. The flesh is weak-it's easier to become a size 6 than to become a person filled with grace. And in a culture that's obsessed with externals, it's so easy to loose sight of the fact that beauty is not only skin-deep. Beauty is radiated through a smile, through loving eyes, through a kind voice and a listening ear. Not that the happiest girls are the most beautiful girls, but that the most beautiful girls are the happiest girls.

"For beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; for beautiful eyes, look for the good in others. And for poise, walk in the knowledge that you are never alone." --Audrey Hepburn

Strength: Part I

(NB: This is the first of a 3-part series, examining three pieces of literature with dual female protagonists and how their strengths complement each other by following archetypal patterns .)

Last summer, I re-read the Lord of the Rings trilogy. If you haven't read them, do yourself a favor, and read them. Your soul and heart with thank you for it. If you haven't visited them in a long time, why don't you stop by and call on them again. You'll discover new and exciting things in them each time you read. One of the chief themes that struck me this time around was the relationship- the differences, similarities, and connections between the two main female protagonists, Arwen and Éowyn. (Although, to be technical, I suppose that in the books Galadriel is more of a female protagonist than Arwen. And Galadriel definitely embodies female strength-she's the Wisdom figure. So, we'll touch on that as well.)

Many of the young women I know who are fans of the books find Eowyn the most attractive. Of all the woman role models in the Lord of the Rings, she's appears to be the most active and dynamic. Éowyn is a tom-boy's heroine. She gets out there with the men and gets the job done. However, Éowyn sacrifices a bit of her femininity doing so. Aragorn describes her as an iron maiden. She has steeled herself to endure the fate that faces Rohan. She's frozen her heart, for fear of being hurt. In the Houses of Healing, Éowyn fully recovers. Not only does she recover from her physical battle wounds, she unthaws. The love of Faramir nourishes and heals her-warms her heart once more. The love story between Faramir and Eowyn is so precious. He's not about to tame her-he simply pulls her over to his side. He sees this fierce warrior who, like any good mother bear, will fight tooth and claw to protect her loved ones. If he can win her heart, he knows that her loyalty will be forever his. And he melts her. She hardens herself riding into battle, and it takes the gentle sunlight of Faramir's love to melt the stone-cold statue and find the tender maiden underneath.

Éowyn is an example of the female archetype of the woman warrior. In times of great hardship and peril, a woman takes it upon herself to save. To protect. To challenge evil. Joan of Arc is a real-life historical example of this. Another literary example is Antigone, the heroine of Sophocles's tragedy.

Here's one main point that hit me when re-reading the trilogy: both women get what they want. That may seem unimportant, but it's not. It's highly unusual. Many characters never get what they want in books. Half the characters in Lord of the Rings don't get exactly what they want. For example, all Sam wants is to be with Frodo, and the saga ends with the two of them being sundered by a sea. Éowyn desires honor and valor. She sees her house falling into ruins, and it cuts her to the core. She longs for romance, for love, for brave deeds, a dire fight, fell adventures that will be remembered forever in song, and a life full to the brim.

Arwen wants one thing: Aragorn. To be with the man she loves. And her fight for him is one of endurance and patience. Women, like swans, excel at hunkering down and enduring hardships for long stretches. Swans migrate 3000+ miles. Women make it through 3+ childbirths. The power of women is the power to outlast adversity, to live through horrors, trials and tribulations, and endure it all with calm, equanimity and boundless courage. Calm and quiet, mystery and secrecy-these are at the core of classic feminine strength. Women are also much more relationship focused. Instead of striking out and winning glory and honor for herself, Arwen uses all her power to assist Aragorn on his mission. She is the perfect teammate-thinking only of the one she loves, and working with all her might to make sure he succeeds. She is generous enough to desire his success, because even his success is her happiness. Even though the price of this happiness is her death.

Arwen's more of a mover and shaker-the brains, not the brawn. And that's a crucial theme running through Lord of the Rings-mind over matter. The strength of her will is often remarked on. And there's little said about her, but one feels her power and her strength when she is mentioned. Hers and Aragorn's story is one of two individuals standing the tests of time. They have loved each other for so long. And Arwen is willing to face death in order to be with him. Like Éowyn, this woman has no fear of death. She would rather spend a lifetime with the man she loves than an eternity without him. That takes incredible quiet strength. She is willing to give her life for him. That is love.

Galadriel has a similar strength to Arwen's. She is wisdom and light. She is the Athena-like character in the story. Slightly removed from normal human emotions and passions. Goddess-like, tender and jovial, yet powerful and stern. In the Wisdom books of the Bible, Wisdom is often characterized as female or feminine. Galadriel is the archetypal Wisdom figure in the trilogy.

Recently, Mara and I were discussing Antigone, since I just read it in class, and was caught up in the amazing wondrousness of that play. We compared it to Pride and Prejudice, but as I revisited this blog post, I realized that all three of these pieces of literature have heroines that follow the same archetypes. Thus was born the idea of this series on femininity and feminine strength in literature. Stay tuned for more!

The Simple Joys of Maidenhood

Over spring break, I discovered this little lovely website. Okay, okay, a lot of these reasons are rather bizarre and kind of stupid, BUT I think the idea behind these jokes are valid. Girls (smart girls) bond over the awesome fact that they're girls. Silly girls spend their days griping about how the female sex has been oppressed by patriarchal society or some such nonsense. I don't even know. Okay, okay, I'm being too flippant. I should acknowledge there have definitely been societies throughout history that have been radically downright cruel towards women. And my heart burns with indignation. And there are women in Muslim countries who face untold atrocities, and my heart aches for them. And women who undergo stoning, or mutilation, or enforced rape are being violated and oppressed in the most disgusting and cowardly way possible. But that just proves how great it is to be a woman. Good men appreciate (albeit with a twinge of wry bemusement), and are rapt in awe. Evil or weak men want to bring down women and seek to oppress them. I think it's radically unfair to our Muslim sisters-and all women who face those dangers- to even pretend that we're oppressed. The majority of women in America are fortunate beyond our comprehension. We should be grateful, so grateful for the opportunities and freedoms that we have.

AND we should giggle with sheer delight and joy that we are women. (Heh. I just realized this blog post might not be the most relatable to the gentlemen who are part of this blog's readership. Whoops. Feel free to stop reading now if you want.

.....

Are you still reading? Awesome.)

Women are a community-a sisterhood. There are so many times I sit at lunch/dinner/coffee/pie with one of my nearest and dearest sisters of the heart and we bond over the fact that we are women, we love being a woman, and begin to list a thousand big and little things why being a woman is awesome. We have solidarity with each other, and when someone attacks our sisters, we bristle with unsounded wrath. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," you know. In fact, playwrights ever since Aeschylus have gotten what a force to be reckoned with an unhinged woman is. Clytaemestra is a ferocious, fascinating, remorseless killer who murders her husband, and has no qualms about taking an axe to her son's head. Euripides tells the story of Medea, who kills her two innocent boys in order to break her faithless husband's heart. Yikes. I feel as though I've digressed by ranting about these insane women, and I feel as thought they're not supporting my point that being a woman ROCKS. Whoops. Well, here's evidence that being a woman rocks. People make songs about it, so dude, there's gotta be something there. Rogers and Hammerstein penned: "I Enjoy Being a Girl," and then there's the classic "How Lovely to Be a Woman," which is one of my personal favorites. Kim sings: "How lovely to be a woman/and smile a woman's smile." There's some sort of delicious, intriguing and solely feminine mystique captured in a woman's smile. And in the very fact of being a woman means your something of a mystery. Mystery and secret are at the core of womanhood, which is why secrets mean so very much to girls. And when someone confides a secret to them, women hold it to their hearts-a bond forms between them and their confidante.

And beauty. Beauty is so, so important for a woman. We are called to bring beauty to the world. Although it is undeniable that men can be incredibly beautiful (I'm sure you ladies can easily think of several gentlemen that prove this point. Ahem.), women have a beauty all their own. I'm trying to attempt to explain it, but I feel like I will fall short of the endeavor. So I'm leaving that subject to sit and ruminate in our minds. We'll touch on that another day.

In conclusion, I enjoy being a girl. That's all this post really is- a thanksgiving and celebration for being a woman. There's nothin' like it, kids.

P.S. Also, stay tuned for a post coming soon-that's been in the works for 8 months now. Yipes!-about Arwen, Eowyn, and womanhood. See how nice a segue this post is for that post? Eh? Eh? Thanks for reading-now get off the computer and go enjoy your day. Bask in the sunlight. Take a walk. Sing a song. Dance in the grass. Feed some birds. Live life.

Remind Me Always

Faith

"Remind me always that you have a plan for me, greater than I could ever imagine."

Hope

"Bring me light from where I thought it was dark..."

"It's hard to recall what blew out the flame, it's been dark since you can remember..."

"Hope has a way of turning its face to you, just when you least expect it."

Love

"You really shouldn't say "I love you" unless you really mean it. But when you do, you should say it a lot, because people forget and it's good for them to get reminded."

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in the wrong but rejoices in the right. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

~Corinthians 13

Pushing Daisies

"I'd kiss you if it wouldn't kill me."--Charlotte "Chuck" Charles

Sometimes, coincidences are happy, happy things. This lovely young lady sent me a video of Kristen Chenoweth singing from the 3rd episode of Pushing Daisies. I'd heard lots about the show from various friends who are devotees of the clever and whimsical. The video was the final push I needed to behoove myself to Hulu and watch the pilot-or, rather, the "Pie-lette." (See what they did there? See what they did? That's quality, my friends.)

And as soon as I watched the first episode, I was addicted. Never since When Curiosity Met Insanity have I encountered a more adorable, innocent, and endearing love story. Never have I giggled at innuendos as clever and as sharp. Never have I marveled over dialogue as clever and as hilarious. It's a winner. Trust me. Or, if you don't trust me, read on, and discover the reasons why it's so amazing.

1) The Colors

Pushing Daisies is a feast for the eyes. The colors of the world are brilliant and brightly saturated. The world has a quirky, fairy-tale-ish quality. It's endearing and charming.

2) The dialogue. Oh, the dialogue. There are a plethora of quotes that I love peppered through this post, because I simply cannot restrict myself. But in case you, like myself, can never get enough, here are a choice few:

"Just because there's a dead body doesn't mean I have to touch it."--Ned

"Just because there is vodka in my freezer it doesn't mean I have to drink it. Wait, yes it does."--Emerson Cod

"I'm sure it's just the mailman. Or a windmill-to-windmill salesman." --Olive

"That ain't a grain of salt. That's one of those blocks they give cows to lick."--Emerson

“Is it vodka?”—Lily Charles

“Water.”--Olive

“As in Russian for vodka?”—Lily Charles

"You said you wanted to know who killed me so that justice could be served. See, I don't think that "Justice" was on the menu. Maybe as a side dish, but not as an entrée."--Chuck

"It was most definitely an entrée. It was a Special of the Day. Could we drop the metaphor?" --Ned

3) The actors. They're all lovely, adorable, and witty to a fault.

Ned, The Piemaker- played by Lee Pace.

"Everything we do is a choice. Oatmeal or cereal, highway or sidestreets, kiss her or keep her. We make choices, and we live with consequences. If someone gets hurt along the way, we ask for forgiveness, it's the best anyone can do."--Ned

Ned, a.k.a. The Piemaker, is adorable, quirky, and endearingly awkward. Having discovered his unusual and peculiar talent (raising people from the dead) at a tender age, Ned has dealt with the moral ramifications and the consequences (both disastrous and delightful) of his supernatural abilities ever since. His heart is made of pure gold, which keeps him, if not exactly on the straight and narrow, at least on a more or less zig-zag path of morality. His sweet, innocent love for Chuck melts the heart, and makes you want to blubber, giggle, sigh, or hug a everyone and everything in sight.

"You don't know nothin about her except she had soft lips when she was ten!"--Emerson Cod

"That should be enough."--Ned

Charlotte "Chuck" Charles-played by Anna Friel

"I suppose dying's as good an excuse as any to start living"--Chuck Charles

Charlotte, a.k.a. Chuck is as sassy and as sweet as they come. After being raised from the dead by Ned, she's the sweetness and warmth in the Piemaker's lonely life, like golden organic honey in cup of black coffee. Chuck loves Ned, but being fiercely independent, she's constantly working on staring her own life anew, which is difficult, considering that the man she loves is the man she owes her new life to. However, if the man she loved hadn't inadvertantly killed her father, then maybe she wouldn't have died in the first place. Yeah. It's complicated.

Emerson Cod-played by Chi McBride

"In the third grade I did a report on great whites. Discovered we were a lot alike seein' as how we're both misunderstood bad*sses."--Emerson Cod

Emerson Cod: Private Investigator extraordinaire, and a regular at the Pie Hole. What sets Emerson apart from just your average hard-boiled private eye is his affinity for knitting and his hobby of pop-up book crafting. His sardonic humor steals the show and my heart. A perpetual cynic and wise-guy, Emerson slowly (but surely) reveals his soft and cuddly side over time.

"The truth ain't like puppies: a bunch running around and you pick your favorite."--Emerson

Olive Snook-played by Kristin Chenoweth
"I spent so much time praying, I've run out of things to say. I'm having awkward silences with God!"--Olive Snook

Olive Snook. No one sassier. No one more passionate, ridiculous, well-meaning, and downright bewitching. Pipsqueak develops from an tag-along and odd-man-out in the Piemaker-Chuck-Emerson trio to an essential part of the Pie Hole family. Olive harbors a not-so-secret love for Ned. While other men appear in her life throughout the series, they are but little strikes of a match on tinder compared to the flame that Olive holds for Ned. Olive strikes up an unlikely friendship with Chuck's spinster aunts, providing them with a link to the outside world, pie, and lots of tender love.

“Did you tell them I was alive?”--Chuck
“Kinda think that would make their little heads explode. What was that rhyme? "I scream, you scream, we all scream 'cause you faked your death!"—Olive

The Narrator. Voiced by Jim Dale.

"Chuck, you’re the only human being I’ve ever made alive again to stay."--Ned
"He lied."-- The Narrator

Hilarious. Snarky. Sentimental. Amazing.

"In her own way, Olive identified with the plight of the abandoned pie. It was meant for someone who, without a little effort, would never be with the one it was meant to be with."--Narrator

4) The Quirky Combination of a Fairy-Tale and a Whodunnit

"So a kiss is out of the question?" --Chuck

"I've lost my train of thought."--Ned

Think of it as a twist on the Sleeping Beauty tale: only the touch of a handsome prince/piemaker can awake the beautiful princess from her eternal slumber. But, there's a catch. If the prince/piemaker ever touches his true love again, she'll fall asleep again, but this time the prince is out of luck. Nothing will ever awake her again. This fractured fairy-tale is juxtaposed with crime-busting activities, and the solving of slightly gruesome murders, led by Emerson Cod. While Chuck waltzes around in beautiful dresses, and has the disposition worthy of any Disney Princess, she eagerly forces her way into Emerson an Ned's crime fighting gig, and sets out to solve mysteries with the pluck and determination of an Agatha Christie sleuth. Ned is everything a prince in a fairy-tale should be. Except that if he kisses the princess, she'll fall down dead. Ned's and Chuck's happily ever after is happy, but nonetheless teeming with adventure.

"You can't die of evilness."--Emerson Cod

"Happens all the time you do something mean or hurtful to someone like tell a secret... Bang! You're dead."--Chuck

"Or Bang! You're not really dead you're just pretending to be dead while other people who think you're dead are heartbroken"--Olive

"Or Bang! You talk too much and you both go wait in the car. "--Emerson

5) PIE.

"Well, it's pretty much I bake pies and wake the dead. I live a very sheltered life."--Ned

The whole series revolves around a pieshop where a handsome piemaker bakes succulent, picture-perfect pies. Pies are a backdrop, a plot device, and in general a theme for the series. If you're a pie fanatic, then you should love the show already. If you haven't discovered homey comfort and piquant quaintness that is pie, this show will reveal to you all the beauty of pie.

You've had enough convincing. Do yourself a favor, bake a pie, and sit down with a slice to watch Pushing Daisies. It'll make you very, very happy.

"Oh, everyone wants stuff. We wake up everyday with a list of wishes a mile long and maybe we spend our lives trying to make those wishes come true, but just because we want them doesn't mean we need them to be happy." --Ned

"What do you need to be happy?"--Chuck

"You."--Ned

This Crazy Thing Called Love

Love is oftentimes thought of as an emotion or feeling that one falls in and out of at one's leisure. However, through my own limited experience I have found this to be untrue. Love is so much more than your fancy's inclination. It is rather a true desire of one's heart in conjunction with an act of one's will. It is often not expressed in the stereotypical manner of sonnets and ballads, but in thousands of little inconsequential ways that go largely unnoticed.

Love hides itself in the small corners of our beings and pervades all that we do. Love is present when we are awakened in the wee hours of the morning to a sister who is suffering from the stomach flu and is in need of assistance. It is in every skinned knee that needs to be kissed. It resides in every friend that needs a sympathetic ear. It rests in every thoughtful deed that is done with no expectation of thanks.

Love outpours when we make the decision to put others before ourselves. Love is the unselfish desire for the welling being and happiness of another.

It is in this way that God loves us. God so desires our well being, both physical and spiritual, and our happiness that He sent His only son into the world to die for us. Above all things He wishes us to attain true happiness through sharing in His eternal perfection. His love for us is so great that the only thing He desires from us is our love, as imperfect as it is, in return.

Questions and Answers

"Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."~Rainer Maria Rilke

So. Despite my best intentions, I didn't pen a line of a blog post in the past three months, because, (drumroll) I've begun my freshman year at university!! Transitioning from high school to college has been a highly rewarding, exponentially beautiful, and occasionally distressing journey. Thus, my days(and nights) have been consumed with study and homework (and Sporcle. And talking. And procrastinating. *guilty face*) College may be an overused, unsatisfactory excuse to neglect writing here for so long, but it conveniently segues into my topic.

I think one of the greatest sources of stress and soul-searching these past months has been the desire to live life to the fullest. Let me explain. Frosh-O weekend, (that's freshman orientation weekend in Notre Dame lingo), we were constantly encouraged to find our full potential and to take advantage of every opportunity. However, at the time, I was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of possibilities and opportunities that had been opened up to me. I was afraid that I would miss wonderful opportunities, and I guess I assumed that meant that dire consequences would ensue. It seems like a silly fear now that I realize I have four years here to take advantage of every marvelous opportunity, but at the time, it was stressing me out.

However, that stage passed (hallelujah) but, more questions arise. What activities should I do? What clubs should I join? What service opportunities should I participate in? What shows should I do? What shows shouldn't I do? What classes should I take? Should I get coffee or tea? (answer: coffee) When should I go to Mass? What should I wear today? What should I do with my life? What does God want me to do?

That's a lot of questions. And I didn't have the answers.

Thankfully, God has put two amazing people in my life. One is Mother Teresa, the other is a friend/mentor/director/rolemodel who sent me the above Rainer Maria Rilke quote. That quote made me realize that God doesn't expect me to have all the answers. In fact, He doesn't need me to have all the answers. What He needs is for me to trust Him. If I had all the answers, then I'd never have to trust Him. And what fun would that be? No fun, that's what. Life would be insanely boring if we had all the answers to the million questions that we encounter. We just have to keep asking the questions and God will send us answers.

But what are we to do in the meantime? We can't just pray for answers and then sit back and wait for God to send them. We have to act. Move forward. Live. But what do you do when you don't know what you're supposed to be doing? The answer is simple. Love. Live each day focusing on others. Mother Teresa's writings are a constant inspiration and reminder of that. Her simple yet profound example of love and complete giving of herself is rousing-I feel like dashing off into the Great Unknown and single-handedly change the world. I may not know what I'm supposed to do after I graduate, what my vocation is, or what I should wear to the dance, but I do know that I can offer a prayer for someone I pass by, or hold open the door for someone, or help someone with their laundry, or bake them brownies when they're feeling blue or just smile. These simple acts of love are what life's all about. A life lived in love is a life lived in God. And God's got the answers. He is the answer.

"I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?"

— Til We Have Faces, C.S. Lewis

King of Anything

I have actual blog posts coming up...I promise...

But here's a song I discovered recently that strikes my fancy. Sara Bareilles is one amazing songstress. Like Love Song, it's got some angst and some bite to it, but the music itself is so cheery and bubbly. It's awesome possum.

Curious Insanity

Some of my friends support me in my Avatar addiction. Others scoff.



Actually, most of them scoff.


So, let me introduce you to this other guilty pleasure of mine. One, I think, that few of my friends can rightly and in good conscience encourage my attachment to.

It is:

*drum roll, please*


When Curiosity Met Insanity.

Do you hear that sound?

That is the sound of my heart melting. I can't help it. I love that webcomic to pieces. (Yes, I just said webcomic. It happened. You can start scoffing right about now...)

What makes this webcomic (Okay, okay! Enough with the scoffs already...) so appealing?
I'll break it down for you:

A) Alice in Wonderland is a weird and bizarre fable, no argument there, but yet it's fascinated and/or repelled us for a century and a half or so. There's obviously something Lewis Carroll got right. (I wouldn't venture to guess what it was, but something...) WCMI is based on this enduring and popular tale. And Alice is an utterly endearing character-even when she's annoying, she's still charming, because she's completely unpretentious.

B)If you're a Disney fan, you'll enjoy how the authoresses expand and delve into some favorite characters. Peter Pan and Belle are the two most delightful supporting characters. Peter's boyish charm make him a fitting suitor for Alice's hand and heart, and the perfect rival for Reggie (The Mad Hatter). Although I couldn't have imagined Alice and Belle really gelling, Belle seems to fit in perfectly as a kindred spirit for Alice. Ultimately, the two protagonists, Alice and Reggie, are deliciously written-oh my stars and garters are they well-written! The whole comic has an absolutely scrumptious manner to it that defies all verbal description. The sarcasm, quaintness, and colloquial style make my heart feel super happy. And, the romantic banter is giggle-inducing, witty and utterly adorable.

C)The illustrations are the last word in epic. So amazing. And it's an adorable love story.

Here's the first installment-it's a sweet story, but there is some innuendo, and Reginald's history sounds veers on the sketchy side. So use discretion whilst reading; 'discretion' meaning: don't read it aloud to your 5-year-old siblings. Thus, consider thyself duly warned.

Caution: Contents of When Curiosity Met Insanity contain extreme cuteness. Paroxysms of cute may occur.

Can't Be Moved

This is absolutely beautiful.

Portia and I discussed the various ideals and ideas that this song represents and illustrates. I seriously considered trying to type them out into this post, but then I thought better of it. I realized the song is powerful enough to speak for itself.

So...

Watch it.

Be moved.

Father's Day

Sunday was Father's Day. And we didn't post anything on this blog about it. (guilty look) Come to think of it, we didn't post anything about Mother's Day, either...(double guilty look)

The Monday after Father's Day, I was sitting in the dark of church (tangent: there's nothing like sitting in a dark church; peace and serenity envelop you, and you can't help but think, in the words of Julian of Norwich that "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well" end tangent). On a whim, I picked up a letter my dad wrote to me for my eighteenth birthday, that serves as my bookmark in the birthday gift he gave me. The beautiful thing about a beauty is that you always discover new beauties within that beauty each time you encounter said beauty. That's how I felt as I read my father's writing. My dad's wisdom and intelligence were evident to me when I first read the letter on my birthday. But, sitting in the calm of God's house, I was struck by the all the love that the letter contained. And all the love that the writer had for me. A father's love is something I don't understand as easily as a mother's love. (That's probably something to do with my geneder...) But it's a mystery that fascinates me. The strength, the quiet power, and the depth of a father's love astounds me.

"For stern as death is love,
relentless as the nether world is devotion;
its flames are a blazing fire.
Deep waters cannot quench love,
nor floods sweep it away." (Song of Songs, 8:6-7)

One of Lizzie Bennett's many admirable points (oh-ho-ho, you thought you were going to escape this post without a Jane Austen reference? Think again, my friend.)is her rock solid relationship with her father. Mr. Bennett loves Lizzie to pieces, and he supports her in her endeavors to be a proper young lady in a house full of twittery young flibberty-gibbets. Mr. Bennett has passed onto Lizzie his sense and intelligence. And he's her protector. He's totally got her back. Look at the way he backs her up on her refusal of Mr. Collins, because he has her ultimate happiness in mind.


Fathers are one of those absolutely wicked awesome gifts we majorly do not deserve, but because God's a really nice guy (understatement), He gives them to us anyway. There's something incredibly beautiful, mysterious, and awe-inspiring about the realtionship between a father and a daughter. At the Femininity Summit Prelim. Meeting, we discussed father-daughter relationships, and we agreed that the greatest gift our fathers have given us is the knowledge that we matter to them. Knowing that your father sees you as his beautiful young lady is balm for the soul.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Dumbing Down Darcy

After a delightful, stimulating but intellectually difficult semester of Aristotle, Euclid, Plato, God and the likes, I prepared myself for a summer of mental marshmallow fluff (compared to the mental meat-and-potatoes of those intellectual giants). For me, a little chick lit goes a loooooong way, and I was about due for another bi-yearly installment. So, I scouted around the blogosphere and scored. Austenland, by Shannon Hale. Not only did I find chick lit, but I found chick lit that clearly had to do with one of my favoritest authors around. The book acquired, I settled down to enjoy myself, which I did. Up to a point.

Basic plot premise: Jane Hayes is a thirty-something New Yorker with an obsession for Mr. Darcy as played by Colin Firth in the 1995 adaptation. No mere mortal could live up to that ideal of manly perfection, and Jane's love life suffers. So, when her great-aunt Carolyn dies and leaves her an all-expenses-paid trip to an Austen-inspired resort, Jane hardly needs two seconds to agree. Austenland is a resort that caters to idle rich women obsessed with Austen and all things Regency. For a few weeks, they exist in 1816, living, for the most part, according to the social standards and technological limitations of the time (exceptions being made for modern bathrooms and makeup; cellphones not allowed). Actors are payed to romance the vacationing women, and Jane hopes she'll get a piece of the pie. But will this trip to Austenland allow Jane to kick her Darcy obsession for good? Or will she wallow in more daydreams of the perfect -- and perfectly unattainable -- Regency gentleman? This being chick lit, Jane gets more than just a brief Regency fling, and the novel does have some good things to say (more on those later), but first I'll flay it alive.

My first beef with the book is that it's chick lit. I like chick lit, in minuscule amounts administered at lengthy intervals. I think most women do. Who doesn't want to be the heroine, get the guy, and rub your opponents' faces in the dirt, at least every once in a while? But that's where my problem with these kinds of books starts. Even if the heroine is remotely life-like (and all too often she's model-thin, stunningly gorgeous, and has a closet larger than my bedroom crammed with the latest fashions), the story isn't.

I just have to come out and say it, unbelievable as it may seem, but life doesn't often dump all of these good things (clothes, looks, men, jobs, opportunities and talents) in your lap and wait for you to make your selection. Yes, chick lit is mostly escapist fiction. We want out of our daily lives and in on the perfect world presented to us in these books. But all too often this escapism leads to discontent with the lives we have. Don't get me wrong; I think our lives, as the lives of fallen humanity, are pretty pitiful, and we should always strive to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect, but that's obviously a life-long mission, and that kind of perfection doesn't entail driving a Ferrari or living in a chic downtown apartment. And as for the men in the real world? They're fallen humanity, just like us, and they deal with a lot of the same faults, disappointments, temptations, and icky real-world issues that we do (we have our differences, but that's a whole 'nother blog post).

Which brings me to issue number two: although Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy isn't real, ladies (and gentlemen, if you're reading this), he's so much more than Shannon Hale gives him credit for. Mr. Darcy is a wonderfully and realistically drawn character, and I deeply cherish the romance that Jane created between Elizabeth and Darcy. He deserves better than to be the prize at the end of a chick lit story. Henry Jenkins (or, as his Regency gentleman character is known, Mr. William Nobley), the Darcy-esque character of the story, is just that -- a door prize that Jane gets to take home with her at the end of her vacation. The real Darcy is so much more than that.

(Am I taking this too seriously? Probably, but two points: A) the copy of the book that I read included a study guide for pete's sake. You don't include a study guide with a book unless the book is worth studying. B) Any time you bring Austen and her works into a story, you'd better be prepared to go intellectual because that's what she is. Jane Austen did not write chick lit (this is why men are able to read her books); she put zing and thought and effort into what she penned, and that is not to be taken lightly. We may laugh at the opening line of Pride & Prejudice, but there are other universally acknowledged truths in her works that transcend the time in which she wrote them. A hundred years from now, people will still read Jane Austen; a hundred years from now, no one will know who Shannon Hale is.)

And there were good points: for one thing, Jane Hayes is obsessed with Mr. Darcy, not the latest celebrity heartthrob. She actually has standards for the men she dates, and they are standards based on a true gentleman. She's looking for a lifelong commitment, and most of the men she dates ("men" here being applied in a very loose sense) can't or won't give it to her. And eventually, she finds someone who meets those standards; she doesn't have to settle for less (they even want to have kids, albeit with the ever-stated caveat of "someday"). As far as chick lit goes, it's decent, enjoyable and clean.

But mixing Austen and chick lit? Mixing oil and water? I just don't know. Austen is so real and gritty (in a way, my friends; she doesn't rub her readers' faces in the crasser details of Regency life, but she does deal with reality). The idea of Darcy as a passive character to be won by a woman is inimical to the spirit that Jane imbued him with. In Elizabeth and Darcy's story, there is a beautiful give-and-take between the two of them that mirrors the romances of the real world. Elizabeth would be lost without Darcy, and Darcy's life would be far poorer without Elizabeth.

And, yes, Darcy is a fictional character. It's not healthy to be obsessed with a fictional character, even one as awesome as Mr. Darcy, especially as played by Colin Firth. But the spirit of Darcy lives on in the many wonderful, real but flawed gentlemen of this world. Why settle for a dream when you can have the reality?

Wonderfully Made

One very comforting thought I've had recently is that God loves the idea of each person. Loves it so much He had to create us.

There's a very special bond between the creator and the created, because when you make a work of art, you pour yourself into it. And there's a certain mark- a trademark, if you will- on your designs, because they take on a bit of your personality. Your creations smack of you-ishness. Take, for example, the different authoresses of this blog. I don't even have to look at the bottom of the post to know who penned the entry. Each of us have our own distinct voice, vocabulary and writing style. It's quite beautiful if you stop to think about it.

So stop.


Think about it.


Now continue reading.


Now, sometimes we'll create a piece of art that doesn't come out quite as we hoped. It's imperfect. Flawed. We wish it would be better-more like the ideal we envisioned in our heads. God, however, only creates perfect works of art. God's idea of, say, Catherine, is perfect. It's a masterpiece-a work of art that shows off, as no other work of His can, some particular aspect of Himself. He formed the idea of her-of Catherine, with her own Catherine-ish qualities and quirks, her idiosyncracies and beauties. He thought of them all; He laughed with joy; and He fell in love. He fell in love so much that He had to create her. That's truly mind-boggling. God loves us so much that He creates us. I don't even understand how that works.

God wants our love. And, (as I feel like we've discussed before on this blog, and as many greater minds have been discussing since time began,) love is a choice. We have to make the choice to love God, or else our "love" is nothing worth. He can't program it into out hearts that we love Him. Love cannot be forced or coerced, it is a gift.

"If a man were to give all the riches of his house for love, It would be utterly despised." Song of Songs 8:7

God's love has breathed us into existence. Our love simply gives ourselves back to Him, since we really belong to Him anyways. The Creator who loves us so infinitely and indesciribably simply wants our love in return. But here's the catch: we've made the horrendous, disastrous, catastrophic, mistake of choosing not to love Him. How absolutely tragic. We only exist because of love, yet we constantly turn our back on Love himself. Imagine how desperate He would be to win our love, to woo us back to Himself.

I opened to my beloved;
but my beloved left; and had gone away.
My heart went out when he spoke.
I looked for him, but I didn’t find him.
I called him, but he didn’t answer.
The watchmen who go about the city found me.
They beat me.
They bruised me.
The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.
I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
If you find my beloved,
that you tell him that I am faint with love.

And the Word became flesh, and lived and died for us. Because He loved the idea of each person so infinitely that He would stop at nothing to save us. He came up with of the idea of His mother Mary, of Pontius Pilate, of each Roman soldier who scourged Him, of Judas, of everyone of us sinners-of you and me. He thought of us. Every single person who put Christ to death was a precious being that He had thought of, and loved so much that He wanted to create them. We were His idea, and He loved us so much He gave up His life for us.

I found him whom my soul loves.
I held him, and would not let him go,

The moral of the story: God loves you. We hear it so often, but we don't listen to these words. God loves you. He likes you-He wanted to make you! He's not like: "Well, since I'm forced to make someone, I might as well throw together a Becca." He fell in love with each of us so much that He wanted nothing more than to bring us to life, so that we might share in His life. Everything God makes is infinitely and incandescently beautiful, including us. We are a masterpieces, made by the Master Artist.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love.
Behold, you are beautiful.

God loves you.

Morality & Cocktails?

A Thoughtful Thinking-Through of the Thoroughly Enjoyable "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day"
by Portia & Desdemona


Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day follows the trials and triumphs of Miss Guinevere Pettigrew on her day spent as a companion to Delicia LaFosse, a struggling actress. Miss Pettigrew is a prim middle-aged woman, the daughter of a clergyman, who is the quintessential strait-laced turn-of-the-century woman. Delicia, on the other hand, is living the life of a young starlet trying to make her way to stage stardom-using any and every means available. In contrast to Miss Pettigrew, Delicia's morals reside decidedly in the "non-existent" category. Although Delicia's silly little runnings about are portrayed with tongue-in-cheek and a little wink, they are, to be candid, decidedly immoral. She's giving herself away in order to get ahead in the world. And the justifications she uses are basically "well, everybody's doing it." Miss Pettigrew doesn't approve at all, she remonstrates Delicia, telling her: "Love is not a game."

The many faces of Delicia.

The fact is, Delicia herself knows that what she's doing is wrong. She simply doesn't have the moral muscle to change herself. As Mitch Albom writes in Tuesdays With Morrie, "The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it." (42) - Morrie Delicia on her own does not have that strength. But, with the helpful influence of Miss Pettigrew, she finds the moral backbone she lacks.

And, on the flipside, Miss Pettigrew needs Delicia. Miss Pettigrew is told to "loosen up" on several occasions. Miss Pettigrew is a strong, moral woman. But a woman who has confused moral strength with severity. Delicia has confused freedom and joy with doing whatever the heck she wants. Miss Pettigrew is lacking love and warmth; Delicia is lacking love and strength. But, by the end of the day, Miss Pettigrew and Delicia has forged a friendship which has allowed these women to share their love, warmth, and strength.

"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things." (43) --Morrie (Tuesdays With Morrie)

Awesomest video ever

Watch it. Love it. That's all. (It's called Parisian Love)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnsSUqgkDwU

Stealing Rose's Idea...

Rose did this on A Rose in Bloom (an excellent blog that you should all visit, by the way.) And I can never resist stealing a good idea when I see one. Thus, I continue:


Date... Sunday, January 10th, 2010 (2010 already-eep!)

Starting time... 2:10 AM (I have no idea why I'm up at this hour...)

Mood... Decidedly overwhelmed

Outside my window... Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, oh and yes, more snow. (Maybe there's some ice thrown in there for variety. Love winter. Can't you tell? :) )

I'm thinking... Break is over :( ... I've gotta do columbinus research...scholarship apps...how on earth am I going to schedule Monday...Shakespeare paper? GAH!...interview...cinnamon rolls...blog posting...facebook...sleep? Naaaah... But, Hallelujah, praise the Lord! Return to Cranford is airing at 8:00 PM tomorrow evening! Mark my words, I will be glued to the telly as long as that delicious vision of a show is on the screen. Yes, that will definitely allow me to get through the week.

I'm reading...Re-reading Sense and Sensibility (It just gets better and better!) Red, by Ted Dekker-slow so far, not as compelling as Black, but I'm sure it'll pick up.

I'm listening to... The water seep through the aquarium filter...

I'm wearing... Green t-shirt, and lovely, warm, cozy fleece pants.

Yesterday, I... Had coffee with some lovely young ladies, went to work, then Mass, then played Trivial Pursuit with my family. Good day. :)

I'm excited for... Return to Cranford!!!

I'm sad because... Break is over and people are going back to college...This is simply not okay. :(

I'm hungry for... cinnamon rolls, gingerbread, or a corn dog.

The song stuck inside my head is... Invisible, by Taylor Swift

I want... Scholarship application essays to write themselves. Please.

I love... life, love, laughter, Balderdash and SNURGES!!!

I loathe... people who put up fronts.

This week, my goal is...to pray the Liturgy everyday. No slacking. And to get scholarship apps done. And to make it through the week.

Did I meet last week's goal?... Thankfully, I didn't set any for last week. :)
Ending time... 2:20 AM