Liturgical Living: Advent 2013 Link-Up

This is my first Baldwin family Advent and Christmas... and a few days in, I realized I wasn't remotely aware of it. Back in New Orleans, I'm back in short sleeves and shorts. Christmas time usually means I am bundled up and craving hot chocolate. There are palm trees outside, and there was a slight rain earlier. Yesterday's first reading was Isaiah 11:1-10; the last verse reads:

On that day,
The root of Jesse,
set up as a signal for the nations,
The Gentiles shall seek out,
for his dwelling shall be glorious.

Okay God, I get it. Jesus is coming! And a Jesse tree or a Christmas tree is in order in our dwelling. (We have neither right now.) This got me thinking about the family I worked for who celebrated Christmas. They were not religious and their home was devoid of any kind of religious symbols, but they still had rituals: putting up the Christmas tree, decorating the house, cookie decorating with the cousins.

And now, in my own home with my husband and child, I am faced with the decisions of how we are going to celebrate and live our lives gloriously in preparation of the coming of the Christ child. It'll be an evolving process, a steep learning curve (I need to let myself get more creative), and I hope you'll share your own Advent adventures below!

Advent wreath

I bought four little votive candles tonight - we'll only be here for another two weeks, but we can at least light the purple ones! No wreath yet... on the to-buy list. Any suggestions?

Books

The Christmas Mystery by Jostein Gaarder is my favorite, hands down. It tells the story of a little girl who chases a little lamb back before the birth of Christ, and then makes an amazing journey with the wise men, shepherds and angels to Jesus - as told to a little boy reading a homemade Advent calendar.

The Word Made Flesh: The Meaning of the Christmas Season by Pope John Paul II (as Karol Wojtyla) is a collection of homilies from between 1959 and 1978. Just lovely.

Decorations

I currently have... nothing. But!!!! I've been dreaming of garland and I spotted a cute and affordable Christmas tree at Wal-Mart across the way, and we're going to buy it this week and then decorate it. {Perk of being married a few days before Christmas... ornaments were a popular gift!!} Then, after the tree is up, and I light the holiday scented candle and pour the wine, I might just be content... but garland. We need garland. And maybe a strand of twinkle lights. [Pictures to come, promises!]

Christmas at home, circa 2009

We also have the stockings my parents gave us last Christmas... and I just realized Grace now needs one too! We'll hang them by the staircase with care, with hopes that St. Nicholas soon will be there!

Oh, and forget Pintrest: Katie did a link-up of Christmas decorations last year!

Favorite Movies and Music

The Muppets' Christmas Carol
It's A Wonderful Life
A Charlie Brown Christmas
A Year Without a Santa Claus
Miracle on 34th Street (ft. Natalie Wood!)
The Holiday (mostly the Arthur-Kate Winslet-Jack Black story line)

Christmas Carols station on Pandora
A Laurie Berkner Christmas album
The Muppets' 12 Days of Christmas



Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You"
Barenaked Ladies' "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/ We Three Kings"

Favorite Advent song: O Come, O Come Emmanuel! (Leah's too!)

Feast Days

There are a lot of feast days during Advent... we never celebrated any growing up, but we may start with Our Lady of Guadalupe. We're new to intentionally living liturgically!

Giving Back

One of the best parts of the season is the active giving unto others in society. Will and I have felt really called to help the homeless in New Orleans, and I am currently reading up on the best kind of care packages to make for them.

There's also this!!!!!

The Nativity

We have a little Holy Family Fontanini collection given to us as a wedding gift - I am excited to set it out, and watch the collection grow over the years! Maybe we'll have a manager soon! And a couple animals!

St. Nick and Santa Claus

My family mostly did St. Nick growing up (if my mom remembered!), and I'd love to teach the kids more about the man, the saint, the heretic face puncher. (Tis the season to be jolly!)

Will and I are split on perpetuating Santa... I'm on Team Virginia, and Will looks forward to surprising the kids when they're naughty by saying "Santa Claus isn't real!" I like (okay, lovelovelove) this approach - reasonable, fair, fun! Just spreading the Christmas cheer, y'all.

Spiritual Preparations

Meg of Held by His Pierced Hands put together an Advent Boot Camp... check it out. I'm doing it, plus a rosary a day. May try for more daily mass too.

Traditions

Lighting the candles each night before dinner while reading the daily reflection...
Fulfilling presents from the Giving Tree at church...
Volunteering to help at a local charity...
Decorating the house and tree...
The Luminaria...

Treats

Hot chocolate and marshmallows, white chocolate covered pretzels, green and red M&Ms? These are a few of my favorite things! Not to mention the sugar cookies... Yum. I believe rum cake will be entered into the season this year too!

Weather

New Orleans is quite balmy, but we'll be heading back to the Midwest for half of December and half of January.  Brrrrrrr.

For those looking to unplug this Advent season, Haley writes on what she is doing to focus better on the season. And if you're looking for a Christmas present... her e-book looks rad!

As we enter into this season, I think it is important to prepare our homes as well as our hearts, as a means to more intimately know God and show his love for us. Let us gloriously prepare his coming!

Do You Follow the Star?

I've been thinking more about New Year resolutions, and I wonder how successful they would be if we treated them less as things we can do to help or better ourselves, and more as something we can offer up to God.

I was struck by a question I encountered yesterday. In a woman's group I belong to, one of the members asked, "Does anyone ever feel like God hates you?"

This is a common question. Many people see bad and wonder how God can even exist. People feel as if they are always being good, but nothing ever comes of it. Today's readings (especially the Gospel), however, shows us how important free will is and the overwhelming power of good:

And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way. (Matthew 2:9-12)

The Magi seek the star, which leads them to the Christ child. As believers in signs, they trust a dream, which tells them not to return to Herod. They chose to leave by another route and not risk the child's life. What faith they had!

God never gives you anything you cannot handle. We go through sufferings in life just as Christ suffered for us, on the cross and through human temptations and lamentations. These sufferings, if we so choose, can be signs which lead us closer to Christ. The priest said in the homily today - think of what Mary, who carries so many things in her heart, must have felt when she received the gifts from the Magi: gold, given only to Kings; frankincense, given in homage to the Savior; and myrrh, used in burials, given as a reminder of the baby's humanity and eventual death.

When we consider that God sent his only Son to suffer death on a cross for the redemption of our sins, and when we ponder the very essence of love and how we are on this earth because we were created of Love and for love, we cannot believe or even think God hates anyone. Only the Devil plants seeds of hate. When you feel weak and wonder why God is not intervening, ask yourself: "Have I offered this up to God? Have I asked God for help? Do I want a specific outcome or am I open to God's plans for me?"

Or are you thinking like Herod, and would like to try to fix the end game out of fear? And what of grace?

The Magi followed a star. We follow a much less elusive guide, and still, at times, we can feel lost. And while we are not guaranteed a happy life, we can have a joyful one. On this Solemnity of the feast of the Epiphany, allow the words of the second reading seep into your heart:

Brothers and sisters: You have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace that was given to me for your benefit, namely, that the mystery was made known to me by revelation. It was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel. (Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6)

Have a blessed day! May you find the Christ child and be able to offer to him your most precious gift: that of self, and a devotion of your life in worthy adoration to our Lord.

"The Wise Men" by G.K. Chesterton

Step softly, under snow or rain,
 To find the place where men can pray;
The way is all so very plain
 That we may lose the way.

Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore
 On tortured puzzles from our youth,
We know all the labyrinthine lore,
 We are the three wise men of yore,
And we know all things but truth.

We have gone round and round the hill
 And lost the wood among the trees,
And learnt long names for every ill,
 And serve the made gods, naming still
The furies the Eumenides.

The gods of violence took the veil
 Of vision and philosophy,
The Serpent that brought all men bale,
 He bites his own accursed tail,
And calls himself Eternity.

Go humbly ... it has hailed and snowed...
 With voices low and lanterns lit;
So very simple is the road,
 That we may stray from it.

The world grows terrible and white,
 And blinding white the breaking day;
We walk bewildered in the light,
 For something is too large for sight,
And something much too plain to say.

The Child that was ere worlds begun
 (... We need but walk a little way,
We need but see a latch undone...)
The Child that played with moon and sun
Is playing with a little hay.

The house from which the heavens are fed,
 The old strange house that is our own,
Where trick of words are never said,
 And Mercy is as plain as bread,
And Honour is as hard as stone.

Go humbly, humble are the skies,
 And low and large and fierce the Star;
So very near the Manger lies
 That we may travel far.

Hark! Laughter like a lion wakes
 To roar to the resounding plain.
And the whole heaven shouts and shakes,
 For God Himself is born again,
And we are little children walking
 Through the snow and rain.



"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/ We Three Kings" sung by The Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan (one of my favorite versions and Christmas songs)

Triple Christmas!

Merry Christmas! May God bless you, every one.

Here is the video my sister made last year of our family's Christmas:



This year my fiance's family is spending Christmas with us, so I am feeling extra blessed.

Priscilla, You Lazy Upstairs Maid! Get Down Here!

Chapter 13 and it's snowing outside. This clearly must mean something!

one

Robison family story time: This morning, my Father yelled up the stairs, "Priscilla, you lazy upstairs maid! Get down here and dress Lady Anne for her luncheon with Lord Bracknell!"

Yes, he was talking to me. No really, that's what he said. I'm not what we call a "morning person." This was after my sister brought Heidi upstairs to sit on me in order to wake me up. Instead, Heidi snuggled with me like the good dog she is, so getting up and out of bed was even harder!

I live on the third floor of our very old house, and we always joke about how I (and my brother, before he moved to campus) live in the servants quarters. Then I went downstairs and ate eggs for breakfast, followed by a leftover turtle brownie. I love being a big kid!

Chwismas Family Robison

My uncle gave me a book of modern poets and a disk recording of them reciting their poetry, so my Poem of the Week fire just had gasoline squirted on it. Here's a 20th century poem (and poet!) that wasn't in the book, but should have been:

"I Sit and Think" by J.R.R. Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

Virginia, Your Little Friends Are Wrong

'Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the blog, not a creature was reading, except for the dog... Okay, fine, Heidi can't read, but if she could, she would. Here is the 5th volume and seven of my favorite things connected to Christmas.

ONE

Favorite Christmas movie: A Muppet Christmas Carol


I realize this is a bold statement to say, seeing as there are so many fantastic Christmas movies out there, but it's true. Yes, we watch it on VHS too, while we churn butter and sew our own clothes:





("Our assets are frozen!")

People, Look East! The Time is Near!

"The Burning Babe" by Robert Southwell, a 16th century English Jesuit priest

As I in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow;
And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear;
Who, scorched with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed
As though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears were fed.
Alas, quoth he, but newly born in fiery heats I fry,
Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I!
My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns,
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns;
The fuel justice layeth on, and mercy blows the coals,
The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defilëd souls,
For which, as now on fire I am to work them to their good,
So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood.
With this he vanished out of sight and swiftly shrunk away,
And straight I called unto mind that it was Christmas day.

and another of his wonderful poems, on the Nativity of Christ:

Deck the Halls with Booze and Holly

Volume Four, folks:

ONE

My friends are the coolest: Anna, upon receiving her first speeding ticket - "You can't possibly hear the last movement of Beethoven's Seventh and go slow."

TWO

So I walk by the cabinets in my kitchen where my mom puts all the invitations, schedules, pictures of my little cousins, etc. and I see the invitation for my mom's side's annual Christmas party. Talk about a good time! I love the family Christmas party, My mom's side is huge. I'm talking extended family of the extended family comes to this party. We used to have it at a yacht club by the river, but it was moved to various relatives' houses when I was in college. Everyone comes and eats and drinks and tells stories and laughs and drinks some more...

Then I see this: Where? Steve and Gigi's house!

WHAT.

Steve and Gigi are my parents. The Christmas party is at our house this year. All I can say is... seriously? We just had Thanksgiving at our house. The 30+ people then will look like a small get-together compared to this family gala. Holy Bloody Mary, Mom!

Good Grief!

Firstly, to all who read via some sort of feed: you might have received a notification for a post that does not yet exist. I titled  a post, meant to click "Save Now" and clicked "Publish Post" instead. Well, now you know an idea forming in my head! Stay tuned; actual post to come later.

Happy third week of Advent! Here's Linus explaining what Christmas is all about to Charlie Brown:

 


and where I learned all my super cool dance moves:




Did you know Starbucks is selling the Peanuts' Christmas songs cd? I don't know how I feel about that, but I might buy it anyways!

Happy feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe!

Today is one of the most culturally recognizable images of Our Lady. She appeared to a peasant, St. Juan Diego (whose feast day was this past Thursday, the day she appeared to him - December 9, 1531). When Juan Diegeo told the Bishop, the Bishop asked for a sign. Our Lady gave him roses, but when Juan Diego opened up his cloak to reveal the roses, this image was there instead. The Bishop had prayed for help converting the Aztecs, and this miraculous image and the story of Our Lady helped convert millions of Aztecs from their pagan religion to Christianity.

And from OLG's Wikipedia entry:

"The iconography of the Virgin is impeccably Catholic: Miguel Sanchez, the author of the 1648 tract Imagen de la Virgen María, described her as the Woman of the Apocalypse from the New Testament's Revelation 12:1, "clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars," and she is also described as a representation of the Immaculate Conception. Yet despite this orthodoxy the image also had a hidden layer of coded messages for the indigenous people of Mexico which goes a considerable way towards explaining her popularity. Her blue-green mantle was the color reserved for the divine couple Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl; her belt is interpreted as a sign of pregnancy; and a cross-shaped image symbolizing the cosmos and called nahui-ollin is inscribed beneath the image's sash. She was called "mother of maguey," the source of the sacred beverage pulque, "the milk of the Virgin", and the rays of light surrounding her doubled as maguey spines."

Pax tecum!

Patientia, -ae

Advent comes from the Latin word adventus, which means "coming." For those of us who are learning the art of sitting still, I thought this poem by one of my favorite contemporary poets would fit nicely for the first week of Advent.

"Patience" by Kay Ryan

Patience is
wider than one
once envisioned,
with ribbons
of rivers
and distant
ranges and
tasks undertaken
and finished
with modest
relish by
natives in their
native dress.
Who would
have guessed
it possible
that waiting
is sustainable—
a place with
its own harvests.
Or that in
time's fullness
the diamonds
of patience
couldn't be
distinguished
from the genuine
in brilliance
or hardness.

I love these, especially the "Hallelujah" ones:


I have my first tele-conference today for a freelancing assignment, which means new research will be revealed press conference-style, then open questions. Should be a good time.

For those who see patience as a virtue and to those who see it as the virtue of the bored (ahem, Oscar Wilde), have a very happy Thursday!

Start of the final stretch...

Trace Bundy plays a great 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel' with Josh Garrels:



A poem in honor of it being the second to last Saturday in Hillsdale...

"Desert Places" by Robert Frost

Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.

The woods around it have it--it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.

And lonely as it is that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less--
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.

They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars--on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.

Spending the day in Kay Kay Gee 11 with the Bear

Today is the day of reckoning. I'll pull my final graveyard shift (of the week) in order to finish my Birzer and Wenzel papers. At 4:35 a.m. this morning I finished my paper on William F. Buckley. It should not have taken so long, but I was simultaneously editing pages for the Forum, which is going to press soon. Currently holed up in Kappa, listening to Christmas music and doing work with my roommate, whom, if you were not aware, I call Bear (or Bear-Bear). Now you do. Outside still ridiculously cold; the wind was a horrible and biting companion this morning on the way to class. More fluffy snow, on the bright side.

While looking for my annotated bibliography, I stumbled upon this essay, my final paper for Prose Style. I don't remember the prompt, but I am sure it had something to do with what we thought were the most important rules of writing. I turned it a little over a year ago and thought I would share it now. I broke up the paragraphs a little more to make it easier to read in the blog format:

Julie Robison
Prose Style
Tracy Simmons
December 9, 2008

Look, then, into thine heart, and write!
Yes, into Life's deep stream!
All forms of sorrow and delight,
All solemn Voices of the Night,
That can soothe thee, or affright, —
Be these henceforth thy theme.
—final stanza of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "Voices Of The Night—Prelude"

Looking into mine heart

Writing begins with a pace. Back and forth, back and forth; if I am not literally walking in circles, then I am sitting in front of my computer, thinking I should be doing something besides tapping the resident yellow pad of paper with a twice-sharpened pencil. I am frustrated because the ideas nor the writing are coming easily; even with my journalism training and my vast experience with working against deadlines, it may still take hours upon hours of writing drafts of anything remotely connected to the topic before my prose takes shape. I can write all day and not write one decent sentence.

At this point in the process, my sentences are sad, and I fear will this piece will end badly. I envy many of my fellow writers, those who are patient. Ideas come to those who wait for them. Those writers do not write until they have something to say. They sit in their chair and let inspiration hit them upside the head, and then, upon seeing stars, they write. I do not like waiting. I like finding ideas; around handle bars of bicycles, hiding behind corners of magazine pages, or in a glance out the car window. Then, upon catching it, I scribble it down into place and so hold it there until I am able to develop it more fully.

Writing is the art of ignoring time and learning patience. It also composed of three Golden Rules, the first being the practice of keeping my worst enemies close to me. I have been writing since grade school, and whenever I’m feeling particularly dry on ideas, I go to my closet, where there are many boxes. A few are labeled accordingly for high school memories, and others indicate grade school lies beneath, but I opt for the one box labeled ‘Writings.’ Inside is years upon years of drafts: essays I had written for school assignments, descriptions of people and places on loose sheets of paper, short stories, old clips, inspired ideas on scraps torn from an unsuspecting source, and my many attempts at poetry.

It is humbling to see how horrible your best writing used to be, and yet I know how proud I was of it at the time. I wonder momentarily if I will look back on my writing now, the same work I admire with mother's eyes, and shake my head in despair. Julie, I think, you were so young. The box serves as a reminder to never, never, never stop writing; only constant vigilance and the belief that, if I were to ever cease, my work would descend into metaphorical madness and be thrust into the cardboard darkness, keeps my hand moving.

The second Golden Rule of becoming a better writer is learning not to take rejection personally. Rejection does not just mean having a publication cross your “little wonder” off their ‘To Publish’ list at present. It also means learning to take rejection of ideas or words, and accepting criticism from others. I myself, although a mostly tough-skinned journalist, felt the sting recently when my thirteen-year-old sister, another aspiring writer, read a piece I gave to my father to critique and called me up to share her comments. To say I was not amused is an understatement. My father turned a deaf ear to my complaints and told me to think about what she said before I became critical.

Time did, eventually, show me that she made a few solid assessments, and I was forced to admit even a person without formal training is able to recognize faults in another’s work. Recognition of faults, a sub-category of Golden Rule number two, is necessary to any writer who wishes to improve, because having a critical eye towards one’s own work will save much heartache and many postage stamps in the years to come.

To advance in one's writing style, it is important to sample the goods. It is not possible to write well if one does not read well. The mind imitates what it sees and picks up on certain turns and phrases, unaware perhaps of how words coil themselves around the mind. The third Golden Rule, therefore, is to read, and to always be reading. The first place to start is newspapers, and then onto magazines and journals, before delving deeper into books. Writers should keep a diverse reading palate if they are to improve.

In the spirit of high school guidance counselors everywhere, it is important to be well-rounded in one’s reading tastes. Prose and poetry are necessary elements for any writer, because they both use words differently, and so I read when I do not write, and take notes and underline favorite passages, only to see another writer emerging from me when I later sit down to collect myself and my thoughts.

And so I compose myself, and shake off my self-doubts. It’s time to write, I think. I crack my knuckles before getting back to my work, and enjoy the rhythmic clicks of my fingers hitting the keys. Something I had written out earlier has caught my eye, and I am beginning to smile as I write more and more, taking sheer pleasure from being able to express myself semi-coherently.

It’s going to be okay, I think, this piece will be just fine. I feel like I have successfully navigated through the wrecking yard; I have scrapped my writing for parts and found success. I will keep the other writing for another day, but now I am focused. I will most likely not leave the area for hours, but I do not mind because I see now how my piece will end—not with whimper, but a bang.

Happy St. Nick's Day!

This is a picture of my little Danielle and I at the house before informal. I picked her up this semester and feel incredibly blessed to have her my little. She is so sweet and hilarious--an excellent addition to the family and the Klassy Kore! I absolutely love her. I do, however, need to make sure I prioritize spending time with her next semester, even with my thesis, since I'll be graduating. I can get absent-minded about those things occasionally.

Today after church, Heather taught me how to make eggs in the microwave. This might sound gross to those who do not like eggs, but I love them and I'm excited to be able to make something quickly and easily, with not too big of a mess either. This new way of cooking eggs gives me more incentive to eat them in the morning before work when I'm a big kid, graduated from college and having to live and eat on my own. Eggs are also an excellent source of protein, which is a lot healthier and more filling than the numerous bowls of cereal I lived on this past summer. One of my closest friend's mom has mentioned making a cook book of easy recipes and since my expertise lies mainly in making fruit cobbler, searing chicken and baking extra-banana, no-nut banana bread, I could use Mrs. B's book. I'll have to ask her about it again over Christmas break.

Applied to a my first-choice summer internship last night, so now I have two applications in (one internship, one fellowship); many more to follow. Looking into the GRE for next February. Gaffney guilt-tripped me into it, which I see as a good thing. I was wavering on it and it's forced me to now look into programs, which is a bit tricky since American Studies programs seem vastly different from university to university.

We sang this song at mass today, all seven verses. It might be my favorite Advent song. Here is the Belle and Sebastian version:



Currently finishing up Frost presentation. My topic is Frost's portrayal of the mortality of mankind, which is really fun to delve into and explore within his poems. The poems I've picked are "To Earthward, "Sand Dunes," "Trial by Existence," "The Hill Wife," and "The Lessons for Today" (which is a rather long but excellent poem which famously ends "And were an epitaph to be my story/ I'd have a short one ready for my own./ I would have written of me on my stone:/ I had a lover's quarrel with the world.")

Here's a favorite Frost couplet:
Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.
(from In The Clearing, published 1962)

Happy second Sunday of Advent, my friends!

More reasons I'm an idiot for forgetting my wallet at home

I specifically avoid shopping (I was no where near a mall on Black Friday), especially on-line shopping. I simply don't enjoy it. It's fine if other people do; I do not. I feel like even when you make good purchases occasionally, it does not make up for all the consumerism surrounding it and the potential bad purchases if one is not strong enough to say "no!" Besides the obvious downfall of going into the red, I find shopping, on a whole, too time-consuming and boring.

Few people would agree with me. Rachel, for one, I am sure is shaking her head at me as she reads this. My roommate Heather would not be happy to hear me say so, although she knows this sentiment of mine. She thinks I'm silly. She loves shopping. This is the same person who, on the drive down to Cincinnati for Fall Break, to me: "This is why I'm going home with Kate--we're going shopping! Julie's just going to drink and read." (Which I did, plus have awesome adventures with friends.)

My mother, however, recently asked me what I wanted for Christmas this year. My typical response was "running shoes" because I need them every year and they are not cheap. She says I need to ask for more (other people in the family buy for me too), so I started thinking. I found this great book in the Mossey library, so I think I might ask for that. If I can't find my copy of The Life Your Save May Be Your Own: An American Pilgrimage (a book about Catholic writers in the 20th century, specifically Walker Percy, Flannery O'Connor, Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day) that I left at home because Dad wanted to read it, then I'll ask for another copy. When I was home for Thanksgiving I looked for it but could not find it anywhere. Lame!

To continue, last winter, J.Crew had these cute ear muffs that I really liked, so I went to the website to see if they were selling them again. (They're not--at least, not the ones I want.) I casually clicked my way into the "Sale" section and then on the "Dresses," my favorite section. That's when I found this dress. (!!)

Fine, I can't drink because I don't have my ID. But really? Depriving me from buying this decently-priced dress that I happen to like very much? (I'm imagining summertime right now.) I can't help feeling like my parents are behind this, even though it is very much my own fault for not having my wallet on me at present. If someone out there doesn't like it, let me know, and I'll try to see your rationale. I think the green is the best color the dress is offered in, although there are 10 other colors it comes in currently.

Sigh. Back to work.

EDIT: Dean Pete's wife called me back. She's desperate for someone to babysit this afternoon. I really don't have time for this at all, but I know how my mom was when I wasn't old enough to babysit, so I'll offer it up as a sacrifice. This is the Advent season after all. AND I get to play with five little kids!! Less time to paper-write, more time appreciating God's gifts in small, rowdy packaging.

Oh, my favorite holiday commercial:



Happy Thursday!!

Deck the Kappa Halls with Boughs of Holly

Still the best Christmas song:



I apologize for the second post but I needed a break from my Otis paper and thus decided to delete and send e-mails. Then I remembered I had a draft saved of a blog post I shan't be publishing. Unfortunately, I was too impulsive with the 'delete' button. Mea culpa!

The Muppets continue charming and are still awesome. Miss Piggy is especially classic. I've loved this song since I was a small person and shall love it till I am old and wear my trousers rolled.

Excited to say I am made process on two of my five papers tonight. Had a lovely run with Marisa tonight, as well as a much needed amble with Vivy in the brisk Hillsdale air. The moon was especially full and bright tonight against the navy sky, which is to say, quite a sight to behold. The moonlight lit up our usual path with a gentle but generous outpouring. I hope our walks don't stop with the coming of deep snow.

If it's Brown, Flush it Down

Cincinnati Bengals beat the Cleveland Browns today, 16-7. Sorry Rach, but you know the saying...

This is a picture of my dog by the front door, staring out at cars. I took the picture this afternoon. Note the pink bow; we like to think it detracts from her ferocity. She is a quite lovable dog, but her excitement at meeting new people and dedication to guarding the house can oftentimes overwhelm people. She really is the sweetest though, and I will soon miss taking her on walks and having her underfoot.

I got back from Thanksgiving break tonight only the realize that I had MeLCat books waiting for me at the library, books that will be quite helpful in the three papers I shall be finishing writing this week. I did not get nearly enough done over break, but c'est la vie. Break was great; going home is always tres bon, but this one was especially fun because a friend came in from Chicago, adding to the Robison extravaganza. The more the merrier! as Dad likes to say, and it certainly was a blast.

Julie's Thanksgiving Break, the break-down: mass with the family; story-time homilies; Thanksgiving deliciousness; whiskey sours; seeing a plethora of aunts, uncles and cousins; larding around the house; watching John Cusack play the same character he always plays, only in a more minor role; replacing the batteries in the smoke alarm to appease Andrew; drinking beer with the friends; Zip's with Besl and Haynes, followed by Graeter's ice cream (I branched out and had blueberry pie ice cream, which not only benefited the children but had blueberries and pie crust in it); Andrew putting his B.S. degree to use with John's sixth grade science paper; watching a Charlie Brown Christmas on Charles Schultz's birthday; UC Bearcats domination over Illinois and the possibility of tailgating; Cincinnati Zoo; Skyline and the Tabasco sauce filled oyster crackers incident(s); Jungle Jim's alcohol section/ wing; hanging with the familia and pets; attempting to read research.

It is important to remember that Thanksgiving break feasting is more than just turkey and stuffing, though, as good as it is-- favoritest things we ate: pumpkin pie, chocolate chip cookie bars that tasted like raw cookie dough (only baked, obviously), late-night grilled cheese.

I am extremely tired. Listening to Christmas music is not helping me stay awake, although listening to snippets of Bob Dylan croon (croak?) Christmas tunes did give me a temporary burst of energy when I laughed at how horrible he now sounds, which may sound meaner than I intend it. In my smallish opinion, if he wasn't Bob Dylan, that album never would have been produced. Then again, if I wasn't such a Bob Dylan fan, then I wouldn't care; but I am and he's hurting my Bob feelings and my ears.

I am thinking I am going to switch my honors seminar paper/ project to a different correspondence. I've been reading letters between Flannery O'Connor and the Brainard Cheneys, which are quite good, but not quite what I'd like to do, as much as I love reading O'Connor.

Instead, I think I might write on this other book of correspondence between this American woman and a British bookseller I found by chance last week. It's called '84, Channing Cross Road.' Their whole relationship was through letters over a 20 year period. It's extremely literary, lively, charming and all business. They never met (the bookseller died suddenly), but she published their correspondence and I think it's exactly the kind of off-the-beaten path correspondence I'd like to write about. Most people in the class are doing famous people like Robert E. Lee or the Russian Empress Alexandria. I think it would be much more interesting to have less significant people and how their lives were truly shaped and now somewhat defined by these letters. I'm not finished with the book yet (I only picked it up from the library tonight), but it's an easy read. My presentation is Wednesday and my paper is due the following Wednesday on the last day of class. It should be excellent.

My roommate-who-dyed-her-hair-blonde-over-break is going to bed. Seriously considering joining her, but then again may continue to read. Overall analysis: good to be back in the H-Dale, even if the weather is cold and rainy. The ride back to campus was good; I am particularly fond of both Kate and Sam, which made the trip even better. Kappas are starting to decorate their rooms for Christmas and listening to Christmas music; special props to my sisters across the hall for their wreath, mini-Christmas tree and lights. More dedication then I will show, I admit. I am thinking about making an Advent wreath out of construction paper, though--maybe little construction paper flames to accompany it? Yes?

First Sunday of Advent, lighting of the first purple candle (hope)-- veni, veni, Emmanuel!