Hold Me Like Holy Water

What an absolutely ridiculously crazy day. I truly believe that if anyone were taping my life, they would never stop scratching their head in confusion - I'm not consistent, normal, or even sane.
And that's the beauty of it. :)

So the run-down of the day. In Christian Sex class this morning I gave a presentation...on celibacy. It was probably quite unexpected by both the professor and the class. Hence the appeal. I also got a verbal "gold star" in that class for knowing my Aquinas. Yesss. Then in the next class, Genetics, I had a "very intelligent question". Please, you embarrass me. ;) The next class, Spanish, was booring, and I didn't pay attention. I worked on transforming my blog.

Then I came back to the apartment and made lunch and watched a few movies. And slept. Until just before 6pm. At 6, we had bible study, which was very good. About the Eucharist. We studied Justin Martyr and Ignatius of Antioch...good stuff.

Then my roommate Mindy straightened my hair (I have pretty curly hair that I NEVER straighten...), and we listened to the "Sounds of Rohlman" CD again. Yesss...it has such quality music on it.

Then we went to Mass. Where Father, during the Eucharistic Prayer, said "dis-kye-ples"...you know, like, disciples, with a hard 'c'. It was quite funny. Then he said "Then He took his disciples, gave it to His disciples and said..."...which was hilarious too. He clearly was a little flustered and fumbled. It took a lot of tongue-biting (lips didn't work...), deep breathing, and praying to not laugh. And, at Mass on Wednesday nights, we always wear nametags. Now, for the most part, people know each other's names. So, sometimes we change things up a bit. My friend Chad decided to go with something with an 'F', so I told him to go with 'Francesco'. Then I asked him which letter I should go for, and he said 'Z'. So I put 'Zita' on my nametag. Then when I introduced myself to a Franciscan sister, she said "Oh, hello, Zita. Nice to meet you". I tried to tell her my name isn't Zita, but she didn't seem to believe me. Dear me. Then after Mass the flatmates and I decided to run to the store for some Oreos. I ran into the store with Beth, with my Zita nametag still on. I'm a loser. The clerk looked at me with two very obvious questions in her eyes. 1. Why the heck are you wearing a nametag? 2. Who the heck is named Zita? It was kind of embarrassing, actually. Profound humility. And, in the car, we listened to our theme song, "Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangsta" (you know, the song from Office Space). We pretend the vulgar lyrics don't exist, and we just sing the words "damn it feels good to be a gangsta" and dance to the beat. We know we're complete dorks, and nowhere near gangsters...but somehow, that doesn't matter. Then, we came back and had an Oreos and milk dance party, complete with 80s hair ponytails (you know, the ones ON TOP of your head), and music like "Ice Ice Baby", "Shot Through the Heart", and "You Spin Me Right Round"...along with MANY others. It was pretty great. Then the people who live below us who SWEAR that we are the loudest people to walk the earth started pounding on their ceiling/our floor, so we stopped. Boo. Pictures of the night to follow.

And as an educational piece: St. Zita.

Caritas et veritas!!!