I officially despise USAir.
But I do love decaf lemon tea.
This means I'm an adult now.
WOOHOO Southwest!
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
omGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA TOFFE IS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I like I how discovered this right after my dentist appointment today and it was painful to chew since my gums are sore since I never floss. Yeah, I'm going to dentHell. Get it?!! It sounds like "dental"!!!!
TLF, can I come over tomorrow?
(fine I'll call)
TLF, can I come over tomorrow?
(fine I'll call)
An Excerpt From a Peer Evaluation I Wrote Last Year
"I like to joke that even when I become Dictator of the World, Emily will still have a better résumé."
I'm just so funny. Whimsical even. Oh hahahaha!
Excuse me, I'm off to play croquet with my associates at the country club.
(i.e., replace "Emily" with "Karen" and call it a day....JUST KIDDING!)
(I am just kidding. I am somewhat ethical...some of the time...)
I'm just so funny. Whimsical even. Oh hahahaha!
Excuse me, I'm off to play croquet with my associates at the country club.
(i.e., replace "Emily" with "Karen" and call it a day....JUST KIDDING!)
(I am just kidding. I am somewhat ethical...some of the time...)
Saturday, December 23, 2006
I'm loved
I was fishing around old computer documents when I stumbled and tripped over this little scrap of preciousness.
It was part of the mandatory outline on my Aaron Copland paper that I actually handed into the Coke Zero Salesman himself. It's obvious I'm loved:
XIII. Conclusion
A. Here, I will make a musicologically profound statement.
B. Just kidding.
It was part of the mandatory outline on my Aaron Copland paper that I actually handed into the Coke Zero Salesman himself. It's obvious I'm loved:
XIII. Conclusion
A. Here, I will make a musicologically profound statement.
B. Just kidding.
I LOST MY VIVALDI BOOK!
And it's all TLF's fault. Because.
Anyway, I think I left the book the previous Captain of the Academic Team (Mina - center) gave me at school. BAH HUMBUG. Now how am I supposed to brush up on my liquor and spirits trivia?
Okay. So now all my LOYAL readers know what the O! looks like (I'm the one on the left...as always...HAHAHA....note how I'm wearing my "Braniac" shirt even though you can't really see it's awesomeness). This picture was taken January '05 at the Yale Academic Team competition (there was a fire alarm).
Anyway, I think I left the book the previous Captain of the Academic Team (Mina - center) gave me at school. BAH HUMBUG. Now how am I supposed to brush up on my liquor and spirits trivia?
Okay. So now all my LOYAL readers know what the O! looks like (I'm the one on the left...as always...HAHAHA....note how I'm wearing my "Braniac" shirt even though you can't really see it's awesomeness). This picture was taken January '05 at the Yale Academic Team competition (there was a fire alarm).
Are you or someone you loved confused? Read up in "We Got Served Less Than Usual!!!"
And have a nice day.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
WOOHOO!!!
Hi! This is NOT Leslie. It's TLF. I hijacked her blog. hehehehehe...
Leslie's at my house right now. I let her use my laptop to sign in and comment Carmen's blog, and she never SIGNED OFF lol. Sooo...I took my laptop back, and now I'm posting in her blog.
Leslie just ordered me to get her a glass of water. I told her no because I'm busy hijacking her blog. I don't think she heard me...(hehehe)
Adios!
Leslie's at my house right now. I let her use my laptop to sign in and comment Carmen's blog, and she never SIGNED OFF lol. Sooo...I took my laptop back, and now I'm posting in her blog.
Leslie just ordered me to get her a glass of water. I told her no because I'm busy hijacking her blog. I don't think she heard me...(hehehe)
Adios!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
ACADEMIC TEAM WAS CANCELLED!!!
[Read title and feel scandalized.]
I KNOW! I'm mad too! But it's a good thing I'm brilliant [*readership nods*] because I thus have a brilliant plan:
As non-acting-but-still-powerful Captain of the SHAcademic Team, I will use this blog to tell TLF that she must send an email to ALL team members saying that practice is ON. Then, tomorrow, I'll show up with my "Braniac" shirt and the "It's Vivaldi and Beer, Of Course!" book and conduct the practice MYSELF.
THEN, everybody goes over TLF's house afterward and we have fun. (TLF's house is nicer and it means I don't have to clean up mine).
I know, I'm utterly and fantastically genius.
I KNOW! I'm mad too! But it's a good thing I'm brilliant [*readership nods*] because I thus have a brilliant plan:
As non-acting-but-still-powerful Captain of the SHAcademic Team, I will use this blog to tell TLF that she must send an email to ALL team members saying that practice is ON. Then, tomorrow, I'll show up with my "Braniac" shirt and the "It's Vivaldi and Beer, Of Course!" book and conduct the practice MYSELF.
THEN, everybody goes over TLF's house afterward and we have fun. (TLF's house is nicer and it means I don't have to clean up mine).
I know, I'm utterly and fantastically genius.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
I Can't Believe I Got An "A" in This Class and Yet a "C" in Calc...
I found an old paper I wrote for the beloved American Music Seminar I took last year with everyone's favorite Coke Zero salesman. Enjoy. I know, I'm brilliant (note the Gone with the Wind parody in the beginning...ask Bizzle about it):
Benjy Michaels was not beautiful, but drunken pub patrons seldom realized it when caught by his earthy melodic charm as I was (though I was not drunk). In his face were too sharply blended the delicate features of his mother, I’m guessing a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of his obviously florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw, and slightly to very unshaven. I bet his eyes behind his retro sunglasses were pale green without a touch of hazel, like Harry Potter’s, starred with bristly brown lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. Above them, his thick dirty blonde brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in his mannish magnolia-white skin.
I knew from my first look at him (actually I was in the backroom of my aunt’s pub but just pretend) that I would be able to write at least a quarter page of notes. With his acoustic guitar in tow, Mr Michaels covered famous songs while adding his own twist to them (as opposed to other cover artists who don’t put their own twist to the music). As he began with James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain,” I noticed right away that his rough and raspy voice gave an overall impression of earthy rawness. I view James Taylor’s voice as soothing and personal, yet Mr Michaels’ was rough and personal. It made me think deeply about different ways of connecting to something, until my train of thought was abruptly derailed when Mr Michaels wished everyone a Happy New Year and this one particularly tipsy guy (whom both I and my lovely dinner date noticed before had fallen off his stool) yelled back, “I’m Jewish!”
Mr Michaels’ improvisation between songs was erratic in that it had no steady rhythm. Sometimes it would be what seemed to me a random series of notes; at other times, the improvisation would comprise of slow, steel-sounding chords with noticeable rests in between. I appreciated his improvisation because it gave me a chance to reflect on his version of the song he had just played and it bridged that song to the next. Due to this, his performance was very “connected” – it seemed as though each song and the order of them received a lot of thought.
Mr Michaels next played “Take It Easy” by the Eagles. Despite his much faster tempo and his uppy, complex accompaniment, he sounded mellow, as if “taking it easy” was advice to himself as well as to his subject. At one point, he vocalized on “doo,” which I viewed as a break for listeners to ponder the music while he himself thought about it. He ended with a few staccato notes and then one descending chord, summing up the emotion of a song that sounded fun and playful yet was driven by melancholy.
The title of the next song he sang is unknown to me, but I could have sworn I heard Emmylou Harris sing it. If not she, then possibly Marilyn Manson. I noticed a kind of “twang” in the accompaniment, consisting of repetitive “heavy-sounding” descending chords. The lovely human being with which I was having dinner said the music reminded him or her of Candyland. “It sounds frivolous,” he or she said as he or she waved her hands back and forth in an arch (I repeat “he or she” because this person just sat down next to me in the bar and I couldn’t tell what it was…I just assumed it was another drunk). I agreed with my dinner date. Michaels’ playing evoked an image of dancing children on an acid trip. Later, I thought of the children meeting a rainbow-colored horse. Similar to “Take It Easy,” the music was upbeat yet the overall effect was mellow. Michaels’ intonation drove the emotion; even though the guitar had a full, powerful sound, the emotion was dominated by his voice, a human source. High-pitched triplets interrupted his singing at one point, which facilitated my kidlet-acid trip metaphor, but the song taken as a whole was pensive and sedate. Interestingly, I didn’t imagine the children on a sedative.
Mr Michaels continued to play “One More Day” by Diamond Rio. The original version, as I recalled, included multiple voices singing “one more day” in the chorus; Michaels’ solo voice here made me feel his version was more personal. He also played “Behind Blue Eyes” by The Who. His cover was rough; I even wrote “rough rider” as a note. The guitar had a hard, pounding sound which contributed to the song’s slow, ponderous, thoughtful tone. The angst-driven bridge had a country twang-ish sound that I felt fit the song well. Mr Michaels had a different vision for the song, yet it was down-to-earth and personal. Perhaps the most personal-sounding selection was “Your Song” by Elton John. I perceived a raw sentiment to his version, because it is a beautiful piece presented through the roughness of acoustic guitar and a raspy voice. The guitar accompaniment seemed circular to me, as if he were playing a cycle of chords.
Mr Michaels did a superb job with “Nights in White Satin” by the Moody Blues. The guitar repeated chords in the lower range, emphasizing those at the end of each measure (as I perceived the divisions). The song began modestly, subtly but became louder and harder as it progressed. The instrumental improvisation within the song consisted of loud, hard chords followed by higher-pitched triplets. The end of the song imitated its beginning – softer, mellow repeated chords, then a few erratic single notes, and then one, final-sounding descending chord.
I noticed a different twist on inflection with the final songs he played. With “Layla” by Eric Clapton, he emphasized different beats. Instead of stressing “my knees,” he stressed “my knees.” He also added a rest between “knees” and “Layla” that Clapton does not and lengthened the note on the word “ease.” The accompaniment during the verses sound like a marching beat. I also noticed normal speaking inflections in his version of “Love the One You’re With” by Stephen Stills. He sounded more improvised, he vocalized more (which sounded like chugging Listerine but in a good way), and he infused an uneven rhythm which facilitated this perception.
Benjy Michaels was not a saltine cracker. He was quite talented and his music was both thoughtful and thought-provoking. I generally do not appreciate cover songs because I feel only the original artist can truly be in tune with the emotion, but Mr Michaels added to each song enough of himself that his interpretation allowed me to find new ways of becoming connected to music. When I finally left my aunt’s pub, I took away with me two things: 1) a new notion of melancholy as energy, that it can be a driving force rather than a depressant; and 2) a container of fries for my sister.
Far From Tara-ble
Benjy Michaels was not beautiful, but drunken pub patrons seldom realized it when caught by his earthy melodic charm as I was (though I was not drunk). In his face were too sharply blended the delicate features of his mother, I’m guessing a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of his obviously florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw, and slightly to very unshaven. I bet his eyes behind his retro sunglasses were pale green without a touch of hazel, like Harry Potter’s, starred with bristly brown lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. Above them, his thick dirty blonde brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in his mannish magnolia-white skin.
I knew from my first look at him (actually I was in the backroom of my aunt’s pub but just pretend) that I would be able to write at least a quarter page of notes. With his acoustic guitar in tow, Mr Michaels covered famous songs while adding his own twist to them (as opposed to other cover artists who don’t put their own twist to the music). As he began with James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain,” I noticed right away that his rough and raspy voice gave an overall impression of earthy rawness. I view James Taylor’s voice as soothing and personal, yet Mr Michaels’ was rough and personal. It made me think deeply about different ways of connecting to something, until my train of thought was abruptly derailed when Mr Michaels wished everyone a Happy New Year and this one particularly tipsy guy (whom both I and my lovely dinner date noticed before had fallen off his stool) yelled back, “I’m Jewish!”
Mr Michaels’ improvisation between songs was erratic in that it had no steady rhythm. Sometimes it would be what seemed to me a random series of notes; at other times, the improvisation would comprise of slow, steel-sounding chords with noticeable rests in between. I appreciated his improvisation because it gave me a chance to reflect on his version of the song he had just played and it bridged that song to the next. Due to this, his performance was very “connected” – it seemed as though each song and the order of them received a lot of thought.
Mr Michaels next played “Take It Easy” by the Eagles. Despite his much faster tempo and his uppy, complex accompaniment, he sounded mellow, as if “taking it easy” was advice to himself as well as to his subject. At one point, he vocalized on “doo,” which I viewed as a break for listeners to ponder the music while he himself thought about it. He ended with a few staccato notes and then one descending chord, summing up the emotion of a song that sounded fun and playful yet was driven by melancholy.
The title of the next song he sang is unknown to me, but I could have sworn I heard Emmylou Harris sing it. If not she, then possibly Marilyn Manson. I noticed a kind of “twang” in the accompaniment, consisting of repetitive “heavy-sounding” descending chords. The lovely human being with which I was having dinner said the music reminded him or her of Candyland. “It sounds frivolous,” he or she said as he or she waved her hands back and forth in an arch (I repeat “he or she” because this person just sat down next to me in the bar and I couldn’t tell what it was…I just assumed it was another drunk). I agreed with my dinner date. Michaels’ playing evoked an image of dancing children on an acid trip. Later, I thought of the children meeting a rainbow-colored horse. Similar to “Take It Easy,” the music was upbeat yet the overall effect was mellow. Michaels’ intonation drove the emotion; even though the guitar had a full, powerful sound, the emotion was dominated by his voice, a human source. High-pitched triplets interrupted his singing at one point, which facilitated my kidlet-acid trip metaphor, but the song taken as a whole was pensive and sedate. Interestingly, I didn’t imagine the children on a sedative.
Mr Michaels continued to play “One More Day” by Diamond Rio. The original version, as I recalled, included multiple voices singing “one more day” in the chorus; Michaels’ solo voice here made me feel his version was more personal. He also played “Behind Blue Eyes” by The Who. His cover was rough; I even wrote “rough rider” as a note. The guitar had a hard, pounding sound which contributed to the song’s slow, ponderous, thoughtful tone. The angst-driven bridge had a country twang-ish sound that I felt fit the song well. Mr Michaels had a different vision for the song, yet it was down-to-earth and personal. Perhaps the most personal-sounding selection was “Your Song” by Elton John. I perceived a raw sentiment to his version, because it is a beautiful piece presented through the roughness of acoustic guitar and a raspy voice. The guitar accompaniment seemed circular to me, as if he were playing a cycle of chords.
Mr Michaels did a superb job with “Nights in White Satin” by the Moody Blues. The guitar repeated chords in the lower range, emphasizing those at the end of each measure (as I perceived the divisions). The song began modestly, subtly but became louder and harder as it progressed. The instrumental improvisation within the song consisted of loud, hard chords followed by higher-pitched triplets. The end of the song imitated its beginning – softer, mellow repeated chords, then a few erratic single notes, and then one, final-sounding descending chord.
I noticed a different twist on inflection with the final songs he played. With “Layla” by Eric Clapton, he emphasized different beats. Instead of stressing “my knees,” he stressed “my knees.” He also added a rest between “knees” and “Layla” that Clapton does not and lengthened the note on the word “ease.” The accompaniment during the verses sound like a marching beat. I also noticed normal speaking inflections in his version of “Love the One You’re With” by Stephen Stills. He sounded more improvised, he vocalized more (which sounded like chugging Listerine but in a good way), and he infused an uneven rhythm which facilitated this perception.
Benjy Michaels was not a saltine cracker. He was quite talented and his music was both thoughtful and thought-provoking. I generally do not appreciate cover songs because I feel only the original artist can truly be in tune with the emotion, but Mr Michaels added to each song enough of himself that his interpretation allowed me to find new ways of becoming connected to music. When I finally left my aunt’s pub, I took away with me two things: 1) a new notion of melancholy as energy, that it can be a driving force rather than a depressant; and 2) a container of fries for my sister.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
What are the O Antiphons?
Read and learn.
So, who's gonna pray with me starting tomorrow????
THIS IS YOUR OBLIGATION AS A READER OF MY BLOG.
That and the yearly cat skinning festival. I'm off to come up with a new list of "100 Random Facts About Me." Why? BECAUSE I CAN.
I'm frolicking gleefully through civilian country now.
So, who's gonna pray with me starting tomorrow????
THIS IS YOUR OBLIGATION AS A READER OF MY BLOG.
That and the yearly cat skinning festival. I'm off to come up with a new list of "100 Random Facts About Me." Why? BECAUSE I CAN.
I'm frolicking gleefully through civilian country now.
Monday, December 11, 2006
A Good Will
After a brief conversation about this quote (that basically consisted of "there's this great quote from Good Will Hunting but I can't remember what it is!"), I decided to go find it (pardon the language) for someone who would probably *appreciate* it a lot.
Sean: Thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me... fell into a deep peaceful sleep, and haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me?
Will: No.
Sean: You're just a kid, you don't have the faintest idea what you're talkin' about.
Will: Why thank you.
Sean: It's all right. You've never been out of Boston.
Will: Nope.
Sean: So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my fucking life apart. You're an orphan right?
[Will nods]
Sean: You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally... I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some fuckin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief.
Sean: Thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me... fell into a deep peaceful sleep, and haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me?
Will: No.
Sean: You're just a kid, you don't have the faintest idea what you're talkin' about.
Will: Why thank you.
Sean: It's all right. You've never been out of Boston.
Will: Nope.
Sean: So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my fucking life apart. You're an orphan right?
[Will nods]
Sean: You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally... I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some fuckin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
My EXTREMELY THOUGHT-OUT Birthday Present to TLF That Is Late ONLY Because It Was EXTREMELY THOUGHT-OUT (UNLIKE BIZZLE'S) Which Was Already Said
TLF turned 12 on Thursday. I knew this. Today. OKAY FINE I THOUGHT HER BIRTHDAY WAS TODAY EVEN THOUGH HER SCREEN NAME HINTS OTHERWISE ("12790") AND IT CAME AS A DEVASTATING SHOCK TODAY WHILE I WAS TALKING TO MY SISTER.
Okay, so in honor of her birthday, here's 13 reasons I love TLF (1 to grow on):
1. She's EXTREMELY loving and forgiving.
2. She knows deep down inside that I'm a lot better at everything than Bizzle, though she's aware enough of Bizzle's sensitivity to not let her know that I know and she knows that I know myself how much better I am.
3. She has a cute little sister who makes me cards.
4. She doesn't bother me at ALL for still having her Princess Bride book after 7 months and leaving it in my dorm (ooo how civilian) when I come home on leave.
5. She started the Leslie Capuano Fan Club, also known as the SHnerds, and they buy me presents and worship the ground I walk on.
6. Her brother is hilarious and he can play piano.
7. Her mom emails me everyday because she's too busy thinking about how awesome I am.
8. She yells at dumb kids...for being dumb.
9. She has the same teeth as one of my Weapons Detailers over the summer.
10. She let me borrow her Evenstar to wear to my senior prom...so I can be the coolest one there. (Obviously, it worked...that and the sunglasses).
11. She's going to run for Pro-Life Club office WITHOUT MY VIOLENT INSISTING LIKE LAST YEAR.
12. Her dad gave me the opening line to my graduation speech.
AND....MOST importantly....
13. She put a TON of work into that care package she put together for me. She probably...no...I KNOW she sacrificed a LOT to get that envelope to hold the book and the cards her mom and sister got for me. She was probably (once again, I KNOW she was) so spent from acquiring such an exquisite manila envelope that she couldn't possibly have written my name on it, and thus "Leslie" is in her mother's handwriting.
Okay, so in honor of her birthday, here's 13 reasons I love TLF (1 to grow on):
1. She's EXTREMELY loving and forgiving.
2. She knows deep down inside that I'm a lot better at everything than Bizzle, though she's aware enough of Bizzle's sensitivity to not let her know that I know and she knows that I know myself how much better I am.
3. She has a cute little sister who makes me cards.
4. She doesn't bother me at ALL for still having her Princess Bride book after 7 months and leaving it in my dorm (ooo how civilian) when I come home on leave.
5. She started the Leslie Capuano Fan Club, also known as the SHnerds, and they buy me presents and worship the ground I walk on.
6. Her brother is hilarious and he can play piano.
7. Her mom emails me everyday because she's too busy thinking about how awesome I am.
8. She yells at dumb kids...for being dumb.
9. She has the same teeth as one of my Weapons Detailers over the summer.
10. She let me borrow her Evenstar to wear to my senior prom...so I can be the coolest one there. (Obviously, it worked...that and the sunglasses).
11. She's going to run for Pro-Life Club office WITHOUT MY VIOLENT INSISTING LIKE LAST YEAR.
12. Her dad gave me the opening line to my graduation speech.
AND....MOST importantly....
13. She put a TON of work into that care package she put together for me. She probably...no...I KNOW she sacrificed a LOT to get that envelope to hold the book and the cards her mom and sister got for me. She was probably (once again, I KNOW she was) so spent from acquiring such an exquisite manila envelope that she couldn't possibly have written my name on it, and thus "Leslie" is in her mother's handwriting.
St Juan Diego = Mega Trainer
"Juan walked fifteen miles to attend Mass every day."
AND HE WAS OLD! HA! (He converted to Christianity when he was 50...not that 50's old...of course...)
Today is the Feast of St Juan Diego, who is a cool dude. It was through Juan that the Americas were introduced to Christ through His Blessed Mother. Without the humble obedience and unconditional faith of Juan Diego, the hope that Mary saw in the Americas would be unnoticed.
Words of Juan:
“I am a nobody, I am a small rope, a tiny ladder, the tail end, a leaf”
God saw something through that nobody. I think it was his humility that made such a difference.
Also, I love this (CHECK OUT THE PICTURES!!).
The words of Our Lady:
"Know for certain, my dearest son and understand that I have many servants and messengers who I could charge with the delivery of my message. I HAVE CHOSEN YOU. It is altogether necessary that YOU should be the one to undertake this mission and it will be through your mediation and assistance that my wish should be accomplished."
AND HE WAS OLD! HA! (He converted to Christianity when he was 50...not that 50's old...of course...)
Today is the Feast of St Juan Diego, who is a cool dude. It was through Juan that the Americas were introduced to Christ through His Blessed Mother. Without the humble obedience and unconditional faith of Juan Diego, the hope that Mary saw in the Americas would be unnoticed.
Words of Juan:
“I am a nobody, I am a small rope, a tiny ladder, the tail end, a leaf”
God saw something through that nobody. I think it was his humility that made such a difference.
Also, I love this (CHECK OUT THE PICTURES!!).
The words of Our Lady:
"Know for certain, my dearest son and understand that I have many servants and messengers who I could charge with the delivery of my message. I HAVE CHOSEN YOU. It is altogether necessary that YOU should be the one to undertake this mission and it will be through your mediation and assistance that my wish should be accomplished."
Ranger rosaries in short supply for U.S. soldiers
Ranger rosaries in short supply for U.S. soldiers
St Mary's...in Annapolis...
Oh la la! A SIGN!
(And it's true...the rosary is the most powerful weapon one can carry...)
In Him, Through Her,
Leslie
St Mary's...in Annapolis...
Oh la la! A SIGN!
(And it's true...the rosary is the most powerful weapon one can carry...)
In Him, Through Her,
Leslie
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