Tag Archives: nuns

Mary, I’m so glad I’m Thine.

Last Thursday Sandy and I (and all our faithful friends) managed to move our belongings into a new apartment.  We’re still getting used the the space (and continue to unpack…me more than her) and find the abode to be endlessly quirky but somehow quite wonderful.  This morning I studied and ate a scone on the back porch.  This evening I’m listening to a street that doesn’t sleep until about 3am (okay, so that part gets to me, but again, the place is quirky).

I was on hiatus all of last week in PA visiting Melanie and sitting in class learning out the importance of groaning in prayer, the eternal love bomb, The Truman Show, and that its ALL nuptials.  Want to know more?  Just ask…I’ll see if I can do the Word justice.  It is always interesting to me how small the Catholic world is.  A friend from the Rebuild by Church project was there, as were 2 women from Monsignor Uncle Dan’s parish, and the boyfriend of some beautiful woman named Therese Kinsley.

I returned to an empty apartment (aside from all the boxes that joyfully await(ed) being unpacked) and a bed that Sandy had made.  I had intended to sleep on the couch (again) but she’d put the frame together and put sheets on, knowing that I’d be more than exhausted when I got home.  She was right.

There is much to say, but sleep awaits me.  It would be nice to make it through tomorrow without coffee.


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And now for something completely different

I had a phone interview with a documentary film producer yesterday.  She found me as a result of the BUST article a few months back.  We talked about Mary’s Virginity and my feelings on female priests.  I have to follow up the whole thing with an answer as to how Mary was “concieved without sin”–something I hadn’t yet thought to ask myself.  It has resulted in my head stuck in the Catechism.

In short, the interview went well and I’m considering whether I want to follow it up with a camera interview…who knows what it’ll lead to.

And you’re right, I haven’t been updating much lately.  Nor have I been reading your blogs.  I have a lot to say, but it just isn’t coming out.  I’m also attempting to figure out what I’ve been doing to fill the time I’d normally be a social-network butterfly…and to be honest I don’t have an answer.  I’m not really very sure what I’ve been doing and where I’ve been.

But it is nearly spring.  Nearly.  And I’m almost ready to come out of hibernation.

Half-marathon count-down: 6 days.

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This Girl: Quietly wonders to herself, “if I become a nun do I have to stop flirting with cute waiters?”


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losing one’s hair on the wedding day

I wish I could express to you how beautiful such moments are.

My my uncle, Fr. Dan, does it justice. Take a moment to listen.

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You’re so vain. You probably think this blog is about you.

Over the summer I spent a week in the hills of New York helping to build a chapel for a Sisters of Life retreat site. It was a beautiful.

At the end of the week I pulled one of the newly first-professed sisters aside. “Sister, I have a VERY important question.” She put on her serious face, probably expecting to give a theological answer.

“Are you able to tweeze your eyebrows and shave your legs? Or, as a nun is that considered an act of vanity?”

She laughed and told me that a year ago, as she prepared to enter, she too had the same question. “I’m Greek and wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t have tweezers. Because we deal with the public and need to be relatable it is totally okay to take care of one’s appearance.”

I didn’t ask about underwear, though. Because I know that “I would really like to keep my cute underwear even if I’m the only one that sees it” is simply a stupid statement for a nun.

But. Now we know.

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What is YOUR best habit?

I work in the archives.  It is about time I tell you that.  It isn’t a secret or anything–although, sometimes archival work feels like secret stuff–but I just hadn’t had the opportunity to mention it.

I get there on time and sit down to check my email.  The room is empty but the lights are on.  Sister must be somewhere close.  I’m in the middle of reading the latest Design Within Reach Newsletter when I hear, “It’s BAGEL DAY!”  My supervisor, the fiesty Sister J. calls from the other side of the room.  “Come on!  What are you waiting for?”

She escorts me down the hall to the campus ministry office where people are milling around drinking coffee and eating Panera’s finest.  She tells me that she has already endulged, but I should come back to work when I’m done.  Being that I am always up for free food I did not object.

The coffee gave me an overwhelming buzz that kept me giggling for the rest of the morning, longing to take photography classes again, study the history of habits, and revamp the archives starting with the box I was making labels for.

At the end of the day Sister and I talked about her former habit.  She admitted that she missed it, despite its impracticality.  “I can’t even imagine what those students thought when they came back from Christmas break in 1968 and we were all in normal clothes and most of us had different names.  Those poor souls.  They probably didn’t know what to do with themselves.” She laughed and leaned back like she always does.

She has some good stories.  And we’re starting to understand each other’s humor.  I like that.


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“What do you think about the Catholic Church as being the first corporation?” “Well, it’s still around, isn’t it?”

4:32am: Incoming text message. From Elizabeth. Reads: “Bring your swimming suit. Maybe after we’re done we’ll head to the lake.”

5:23am: Alarm sounds. Day begins.

9:28am: arrive at the door of room 411 in a swanky hotel on Wabash. Knocking occurs. No answer. Eventually a hipster walks down the hallway and introduces herself as the fashion editor.

9:45am: the entire trunk of designer clothes is unpacked and I am busy trying things on in the bathroom. Most are entirely too tight. The makeup artist and photographer arrive.

10:15am: The application of makeup begins. All the while I tell my life story to the shaggy-haired photographer who has made himself comfortable on the couch. By the bottom of the hour I have picked three outfits, gotten a face fulla makeup and, with the help of Elizabeth, solved the world’s problems.

11:00am: We’ve loaded into a rented minivan full of camera equipment and cosmetics and begun driving along Lakeshore Drive, heading toward what appears to be the perfect tree. “We could totally get a good shot from there. How do we get to that tree?” After parking, scouting out the area, and unloading equipment I’m told to change outfits. Stockings + 90 degree heat + van as dressing room = discomfort and frustration.

12noon: The first roll is finished under a shade tree that brushes against the skyline. It really is a good tree. We head closer to the beach. I go and change in the beach house stalls from the Marc Jacobs into a linen shirt that retails more than a single paycheck. I get makeup on it. I hope no one notices.

12:50pm: We’re nearing the end of roll 3. We’ve discussed Catholicism a billion times over. I answer questions like its my job, and I love it. I’m still wearing a winter coat. Shirtless joggers are looking at me funny. We’re all famished but needing to finish out the work. Load the van and head to Catholic church across town.

1:30pm: Homeless men are sleeping under trees and I’m getting my picture taken. There is so much irony in this day.

2:15pm: Roll 4. Accomplished. AAAAAAand I’m spent.

The day is concluded with a 3-course meal compliments of the publication. My tummy and my temperature are happy. It begins to pour. I am too tired to swim.

Dear Catholic Church and nuns,
I know you could care less about designer clothes but it was a pretty bizarrly rock’n day. I don’t care so much about the clothes either. Remember that time the photographer was impressed by the outfit I wore to the shoot–that jean-skirt with layered tank-top get-up? Its not a habit or anything, but it cost a lot less. I hope I did okay. I know I kept awkward in style. Hopefully it’ll show.  And hopefully there will be more vocations.

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