A Knot in my Stomach

I'm about two hours away from meeting my destiny. And it is coming in the shape of an assisted living home in RB. I'm going in at about 3 o'clock to fill out an application. And my anatomy is quite kerflummuxed. My heart is in my throat, my stomach is in a knot, my legs are shaking....I just hope I get a job soon...the suspense is killing me...please pray for me!

Is It True?

"Two heads are better than one, not because either is infallible, but because it is unlikely that both heads will go wrong in the same direction." C.S. Lewis

The above is one of my favorite quotes from Lewis. And now I am going to take the terrible liberty of misapplying it. I took two quizzes. Both claimed that they would tell me which Jane Austen character I most resemble. I took both, and the results came out astonishingly similar. Take a look:

Quiz #1

You're Emma Woodhouse of Emma.You're intelligent and manipulative, and tend to form strong opinions of people. You are also very popular, and like to help others.

Emma Woodhouse: 85%
Catherine Morland: 65%
Elizabeth Bennet: 65%
Marianne Dashwood: 55%
Elinor Dashwood: 55%
Anne Elliot: 25%
Fanny Price: 20%

(by the way, I have no idea what those percentages mean. They don't add up to one hundred...I am really quite at a loss. If anyone cares to enlighten me, I'd be more than happy to hear their opinion on it.)

Quiz #2

You scored as a Emma Woodhouse. Emma is possibly one of the most loyal characters of Austen, always wanting better for those around her and doing all she possibly can to make it happen. Her motives sometimes get in the way of her good intentions and her own opinions can end up ruling her actions, but she has a good heart. She loves to be social and is welcoming to most, unless they are too silly to tolerate. While she sometimes changes her behavior to make others feel comfortable, she knows who she is and is always bettering herself.

Emma Woodhouse: 88%
Jane Bennet: 63%
Marianne Dashwood: 63%
Elizabeth Bennet: 53%
Lady Catherine: 31%
Elinor Dashwood: 28%
Charlotte Lucas: 28%

So, stretching Lewis's claim to an unpardonable degree, I must really be a good deal like Miss Woodhouse. Almost exactly the same result came from two completely different sources.


And, I did a little wacky math to see if I could make some sense out of the percentage deals. This is what I came up with:

In quiz #1, I am approximately 23% Emma, 18% Catherine and Lizzie, 15% like both of the Dashwood sisters, 7% Anne, and 5% Fanny. (It adds up to 101, but that's better than 370)

In quiz #2, I am approximately 25% Emma, 18% Jane and Marianne, 15% Lizzie, 9% Lady Catherine (!!!), and 8% Elinor and Charlotte. (again it equals 101, but again that's better than 354)

Praised from the outside, discontent on the inside

The above phrase describes my present state. I'll explain why.

I love to sing. I've always loved to sing. My beloved siblings have always "disliked with a fiery passion" my singing. Not my actual singing, but I do it all of the time and everywhere I go. Sometimes (and quite understandably) they would like to experience something called peace and quiet. Then my sister got a roommate who sings almost as much as I do, just not quite so loudly. Poor her. But Andrea's roommate isn't the cause of my discomfiture. My own singing is. Specifically, my singing at Mass this morning. This is going to take a bit of explaining, so please be patient.

Our choir director is also my voice teacher. He is very nice and very good, but part of his technique of making me a better "performer" (if that's the right word for singing at Mass. If it isn't, please excuse me) is to throw surprises at me. Like this morning. I had been told on Wednesday that I would be singing a verse solo at Mass. It is a song that I know like the back of my hand...I've been singing it at every lesson for the past couple of months. This didn't bother me too much. It would be over in thirty seconds, so I wasn't anticipating being very nervous. Then Adam leaned over and said, "I want you to stay here while the rest of the choir goes to Communion and start the song." I said, "Ok." I thought, "Grrreeeaaat" (intense sarcastic intonation). So, I'm standing in our "choir corner" as it is affectionately known, all by myself with a big ol' mic in my face. Then three things happened that caused me to freak out. 1) I was standing really far away from Adam. My comfort zone is standing right next to the piano, almost behind Adam's left shoulder. I was about ten feet away from him, with him almost behind me. 2) He played it A LOT slower than we had practiced it. This may appear a trifle, but it really isn't. When you sing, you need energy. It is very easy to get the required energy when singing a fast and/or upbeat song. When singing a very slow, quiet song, you have to artificially come up with that energy, which is a skill I haven't mastered yet. Most people never do master it -- it's one of the things that distinguishes between good and great singers. 3) Right as I started singing the first refrain, all by myself, far away from Adam, really slowly, one of the guys threw me a look. It is hard to describe looks with words, but it was basically a "Why are you singing?" look and for a split second, it totally threw me. The second half of that seemingly infinite second contained a realization on my part that I was supposed to be singing...Adam wanted me to. I managed to get through it, following a really shaky first four measures. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't what I normally am capable of.

Now, internally, I was rather disappointed with myself. I knew the song, I normally don't get that nervous, and, from my perspective, I totally fell apart. I said something after Mass about how I totally slaughtered my part of the Communion song. Everyone else disagreed with me. They thought it was lovely, beautiful, awesome, etc. But it is still "rankling in my soul" to steal a phrase. And I shouldn't let it bother me as much as it is. But it does. It really, really does.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y

The other day, I was bemoaning the fact that I miss my sister when she's off at college. Unbeknownst (sp?) to me, a plan that allowed me several hours with her was in the works.

Scott had a CAP staff meeting. He is now officially on staff as Aerospace NCO. He had to go to a meeting, and it just so happens that the meeting was at the apartment complex where my sister lives. So, after leaving Scott to find his fellow cadets, the rest of our family went out to have a hamburger. It was nice. We talked about widely varying topics and ate In-N-Out food which was awesome.

We then went to Ross. Mom is always convinced that Andrea needs more clothes, so whenever we go out shopping, she usually gets Andrea something. Well, this time Andrea actually got to pick the item of clothing. As it was nearing seven o'clock (when the meeting was supposed to end) we headed back to the complex.

Then we overheard Joe ordering pizza. Great, so they hadn't even started eating dinner yet. What to do with the extra time? Mum and Dad decided to go for a walk and have a cup of coffee. My feet were killing me. I didn't know we were going to be walking, and so I stupidly wore the shoes that had given me the blisters that still weren't healed up. I got a couple new, smarting blisters in addition to opening up the old ones. So, I sat on the floor of Andrea's apartment and listened to her and her roommate read each other their homework. It was actually pretty entertaining. Totally different subjects, but it kinda worked. We did some laughing and some talking, even though I entered that room determined not to distract them.

Eight thirty rolled around and brought with it Scott's release from the meeting. He was very happy with how it went...and the rest of us got a pretty relaxing evening out of it.

So now, I've got to run off to Church. And hopefully it won't be three days before I post again. I'm right in the middle of a book that I am finding rather difficult to put down, even for the your sakes. (or sake. there might only be one of you. who knows?)

A Slice of Humble Pie

Or maybe more than a slice. Applying for a job is like eating a gigantic, stale, disgusting humble pie. But, at least, humble pie is good for you.

Places I've applied? A few, but I am not too hopeful about them. Next week I hoof it through Poway, begging for employment. whoopee. The short list of places that I've applied to in the past three days:

Catholic Answers
Midland Animal Clinic (I already a "no" from them. But at least it was a very gracious "no".)
People-Trak (actually, I haven't applied there yet. I'm still waiting for them to email me the address where I can send my resume)
Autobody Excellence (yes, I applied to a auto repair shop. No, I won't be fixing cars. i'm not THAT insane)

So, if you would be so kind, please pray for me. I need to get a job. Any job. And, if you have any suggestions, please let me know. I'll take anything. (except military enlistment. I couldn't handle that.)

The Joys of the first of April

I generally ignore the existence of April Fool's Day. Alright, I'll be honest -- I tend to forget the significance of April 1st until it is April 2nd. But not this year. This year I got my brother good.

The idea was originally Mom's. She was going to tell Scott that CAP's National Commander was coming to the meeting (which was last night) to inspect everyone's PT exercises. She was then going to ask him to come upstairs and look on the computer at some CAP provided video on the subject. When he looked at the computer, there was going to be a word processor up, bearing the legend "April Fool's!" Good idea. But she forgot to do it.

So, after we dropped Scott off at the meeting, Mum and I went out to dinner. We do this about once a month. We get some girl bonding time and go see what the newest ridiculous fashions at the local stores are. Over dinner, we perfected our plan.

About half-way home, I launched our scheme. I told Scott that the Wing Commander (I decided that was more believable than National) was going to come some time during the next month and all of the cadets of the squadron were going to have to redo their latest review board. He was going to be doing this all over the state during the course of the year. But he wasn't allowed to tell. I had only gotten this information through our sister who had been told by one of her roommates (who is very involved in CAP). Scott's reaction was priceless. He bought it, hook, line, and sinker. "Oh, no!" said Scott. "Why?" I replied that it was to ensure that all of the cadets were up to par. He groaned and got all worked up. It was fantastic.

But it is a very good thing that it was almost 9:30 at night and very dark. Otherwise my face would have betrayed me. I managed to keep my voice steady, but I couldn't keep my face from stretching into an enormous smile. We didn't leave him in suspense long, however. I left him to agonize for about a minute and then told him I was kidding. It was great. I've never been able to pull something like that off before...and I probably never will again. But it was fun while it lasted.

Just throwin' this out there....

There is a debate, which is at times pretty intense, about holding hands during the Our Father. I'm not going to get into it here, but I will share the opinion of a priest who was Dad's professor in college. You all may have heard of him: his name is Fr. Fessio.

Question: Is it liturgically and theologically correct to hold hands during the Our Father?

Bishop Cordileone: Well, it really isn't symbolically appropriate, but it doesn't say not to in the rubrics.

Fr. Fessio: It also does not say to not stand on your head throughout the entire Mass in the rubrics.


:D