Tag Archives: Giggle-worthy

Temporary Discalcement


I feel like “temporary discalcement” could be a band name. But that’s not the point of this post.


My trusty sandals. Still wet from my morning walk to studio.

As I may have mentioned in passing, I’m spending my summer living between two houses, spending almost exactly half the week at each place. One is home-home. The other is just a house where I’m renting a room for the summer. I travel every week, and I’m always back at my house for the weekends, so I’m constantly figuring out ways to pack lighter and faster and tighter. The first thing I did was to ditch the idea of packing shoes. If I decided I were going to pack shoes, I’d have to actually choose which shoes I was going to pack, and I’m way too fond of my shoes to have to decide. So I just wear my sandals everywhere–they’re flat and comfortable and got me through a week’s worth of walking in Italy three years ago.

It has rained almost non-stop for the past two weeks. The first week I was living like this, it was sunny and hot. I don’t like hot, so I am happy about the coolness and the opportunity to wear sweaters and long sleeves, but man… my feet are SOAKED. ALL THE TIME.

This whole situation is giving me a lot of respect for the discalced religious orders. I really, really hate having wet feet. (Wet, icky feet are even worse–and sandals let in a lot of crud, so that happens way too often.) But I’m learning to deal with it and offer it up. Now my joke is that I’m a third-order discalced, even though I’m neither a religious nor a third-order and I’m fairly sure a discalced third-order doesn’t exist. It’s still fun to think about though.

And so, on this cold and grey and rainy day, I close with a picture of my umbrella which I took because it looked pretty darned awesome.DSCF4053


Companions on the Journey–the Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Edition


(This is a simul-post with Ignitum Today)

I have a fish, and his name is Lloyd.  He comes with me to college and lives in my room.  Lloyd is a college fish; Lloyd is a Catholic fish.

It sounds crazy, right?  Goldfish can’t be Catholic any more than they can be college students.  So how can I say I have a Catholic fish?

He’s looking at you.  That means he likes you.

A little explanation, perhaps: goldfish are actually much more intelligent than popular culture supposes.  They do have memories and can remember specific voices–I know that Lloyd, as soon as my sister’s best friend comes over, immediately swims in the direction of her voice and doesn’t stop swimming at the edge of his bowl.  He also wakes up at the sound of my voice so I can do my usual are-you-alive check (usually at about four or five am).  He “begs” for food and “yells” at you if you haven’t fed him in a while; and he hates the colour orange.  All these facts (including the colour thing) can be proven with basic biology.  So how can I, with full honesty, say I have a Catholic fish?

To begin, Lloyd was won at a church carnival–a Catholic church.  But origins do not always denote the end result (as proven by the fact that he was so tiny when he came home that if he were to do battle with one of the rocks in the bottom of his bowl, he would have lost; and now he is so big I had to put him in a new bowl).

Point number two: I’m Catholic; therefore, my room is covered in Catholic things.  Eventually, maybe this would rub off on him, right?  My whole family is Catholic, so maybe he got it from there?  Or I said enough Rosaries or other prayers in my room that the little fishy converted?  Sounds ridiculous.  Is ridiculous.

But!  He is extremely drawn to a particular card I had pinned up on my board near his bowl.  I have taken to setting it near his bowl whenever we travel or he will freak out.  This is a Mary card, an image of a statue of Our Lady of the Globe.  The image is quite beautiful.  Lloyd falls asleep staring at this card.  I have a goldfish with a Marian devotion.

And so, the discussion has ensued–can a fish be Catholic?  Do I have to get him baptized?  (After all, nature fell when Man did…)  If so, how is that done when he lives in water?  Comment if you come up with a solution to this conundrum, please.

Avatar Jesus


Relatively recently, I was at a college Catholic Center for Mass.  The homily was rather long and I must confess that my eyes glazed over somewhere in the middle and instead of paying attention, I found myself staring at the painting on the wall.  It was really, really ugly.  The friends I was with agree that it was probably donated.  Finding an image online loses some of the “depth” of the painting–the random shadows and rocky crags.  I suspect it was supposed to be an image of the Transfiguration?  But I’m not entirely sure.

(This isn’t meant as a slam on the Catholic Center or its university.  If you know where it is please don’t call it out.)

Observe the strange, ugly painting in its austere natural habitat.  Notice the unique composition.  Is it bringing anything to mind?  It did to me.

Yes, fellow children of the 90’s.  This IS from the very first episode of Avatar: the Last Airbender.  This is, indeed, Avatar Aang stuck in an iceberg.  And this is the reason for my nickname for the above Ugly Jesus Painting (and the title of this post).

To the painter of Avatar Jesus: in the words of Crescat, you make Baby Jesus cry. (I wanted to link back to her “Bad Art” tag, but since she left Blogspot for Patheos, it doesn’t exist any more…)

Raising Awareness


According to Facebook, April 16th through April 24th is International Hug a Stressed Architecture Student week.  The page description is what made me laugh the most:

Let’s just be honest, final reviews are far more nerve-racking and require far more preparation than silly final exams.  So suck it up, ignore the stale coffee smell, and hug an architecture student.  If they begin to sob profusely on your shoulder just pat them on the back and tell them it will be okay.  Don’t worry, it’s completely normal.

Attend the event, spread the word, be the emotional infrastructure for the future architects of the world.  God knows we need it.



Phenomenon: When two (or more) random strangers share a precious moment of friendship.

Example: Today in the dining hall, I was doctoring up my dining-hall coffee [1] (which is so bad I have to add stuff to the blessed substance I typically drink pure).  I saw a girl come over, no mug on her tray, and grab a handful of the little creamers I use to put in my coffee (horrid, I know, but you gotta do what you gotta do while on meal plan) and shove it into her purse.  “Oh my gosh, I’m not the only one who stockpiles those things too?!?” I asked (having three in my pocket and three in my studio desk and planning to take three more next time, etc etc).  “Heck yeah!  I add them to my hot chocolate in my room all the time.  These things are f***ing delicious!”

And then we went our separate ways… having, for a moment, shared a split-second of friendship together.

Sometimes this leads into long-term friendships: one of my friends tells a story where he met another friend by eavesdropping on a conversation, then demanding, “What the HELL are you talking about?”  (They’re still friends, to this day.)  Others, it is simply a good story: “Hey, I met this girl today who stockpiles the french vanilla creamers too!”

This phenomenon is fascinating to me: it proves to me that man is inclined towards loving his neighbour–random strangers are quite friendly to each other–and that it is only when we become more acquainted with one another that we begin to see the effects of the Fall.


[1] Only the Colombian blend can be safely doctored (I’ve tried everything else, and I’m not lying).  Add lots of Coffeemate creamer if available OR add International Delights French Vanilla creamer packets in multiples of 3 (3, 6, or 9) to taste.  Consume carefully.