Dirty Catholic

I Need Another Option

I received and invitation to join a diocesan liturgical commission that will begin implementing the new edition of the Roman Missal.  The same Roman Missal that historically threatened to leave ministry over. (I would link to the post here, but I can't find it. A Catholic Kitsch present mailed to whomever can find it!)

The reply card gives me the options of "Accepts with Pleasure" and "Declines with Regrets."

I've been holding onto the invitation for days because I keep hoping a more honest option will appear. Perhaps "Accepts with Great Reservation" or "Declines with Relief."

My fear is the commission will be a soul-sucking task that will make me want to leave the church. My hope is that joining the commission will get me on the inside track so my parish will know ahead of time what the heck is going on. My favorite coworker (yes, you are allowed to have favorites) assures me the leader of the commission is nice, despite his job.

Hmmm. . .what to do?

A Glamorous Day in the Life of a Lay Ecclesial Minister

9am- oh craaaaaaaaaap. Late for a meeting. LATE LATE LATE!!! Run out the door.

9:30am- Meeting starts late anyway.

10am- Just finished the Opening Prayer part of the meeting. Nobody cried this time.

11:30am- Wondering how long I can listen to facilities updates without pulling my eyelids off.

11:45am- Hoping that "Sending Emails" looks to everyone like "Taking Very Detailed Notes."

Noon- Meeting over. Sing Happy Birthday to staff member and begin eating AMAZING chocolate cake.
12:02pm- Coworker pulls me away from party and cake for post-meeting-mini-meeting.

12:05pm- Looking longingly at cake. 12:08pm- Hoping nobody else eats my cake.

12:10pm- Pause meeting to yell, "I'm not done with my cake! Don't throw it away!"

12:15pm- Mini Meeting over. Eat Cake. It is delicious.

12:20pm- Chatting with a coworker.

12:40pm- Still chatting

1:00pm- Still chatting

1:20pm- Sit down at my desk in the copy room. Begin to work.

1:25pm- Another coworker wants to chat.

1:45pm- Still chatting.

2:00pm- Still chatting.

2:05pm- Coworker leaves. Realize I don't have documents coworker promised to give me.

2:10pm- Looking for documents in email

2:20pm- Looking for documents in printer

2:30pm- Asking coworker for documents

2:40pm- Looking through 38 books where documents "might be."

3pm- Catehchist stops by office. We chat.

3:05pm- Catechist casually flips through one of the 38 books I was searching. Finds documents. 

3:06pm- Retrain myself from inappropriate hugging-and-kissing of Catechist in gratitude. High five instead.

3:10pm- Catechist leaves. Sit down at desk to work.

3:11pm- Another coworker wants to chat.

3:12pm- Keep working and pretend I didn't hear....murmurer "hmm???"

3:15pm- Coworker still chatting. 

3:20pm- Still "Hmmm-ing"3:30pm- Coworker asks question. I have no idea what was just asked.

3:31pm- I say, "Hmm??"

3:32pm- Coworker says he's glad I agree and leaves.

3:33pm- What did I just agree to?3:35pm- Oh Craaaaap. Late to another meeting!!!

3:45pm- Wondering why one of the meeting members is suddenly speaking with an Irish accent. Nobody else seems to notice.

3:55pm- the accent...4pm- the accent...4:05pm- the accent stops abruptly.

4:10pm- Conversation about screaming children at Mass begins. All eyes on me. 4:45pm- Still on the loud kids. Do they realize I don't have kids?

5pm- Leave meeting with 8 new job tasks. 1-7? Do something about loud kids.

5:10pm- Head home to try and get some work done.

5:11pm- Coworker stops me and wants to chat.....

Mr. Verbal

Oh, Mr. Man. He is so sweet, so complimentary, so...verbal. He compliments me daily. It would be  especially great if I were someone who appreciated compliments. But on Sunday his compliment on  was so awesome that I just had to share. He said, "Oh, baby, you are so cute! Your waist is so skinny, especially compared to your bottom!"

It's gift that keeps on giving.

Follow me here...and here.

Hi friends.

So, as it turns out, blogging about work is a lot less fun when you think some of your co-workers might be aware of your blog. Go figure.

But I've missed you. I've missed the writing and the kvetching and the community that you offer. Lucky for me, every October kicks me in the arse because I have to decide to renew the blog. And I hate to tell you, but I almost canceled. But I didn't. Mostly because I am trying my big JewCurious experiment once again, and you can follow it here. There will likely be a lot of head scratching and exclamations of "Well we don't do that in Catholicism!" so you might even like it (Mom).

At Dirty Catholic, you can expect to hear less about my coworkers and more about Mr. Man and my quest to adopt. (What?!?) It could be funny or heartfelt or just depressing, depending on how much St. John's Wort I've been sniffing.

To whet your appetite, here's a funny little public service video:

They should include that in our orientation workshops.

Happy Easter!

Hey You!

Happy Easter! Can I recommend an awesome Easter party? Happy Hour!

It's my best idea yet.

Why? Because after 4 days of church, and a Lent spent giving stuff up, and family coming into town, most people just really want a drink. 

We had friends over from 3-7pm had a great cocktail and a nice relaxed feeling that lasted us until the house was cleaned up and back in order. 

I'm telling you, people: Annual Tradition.

Peacemaking Excercise

In my lenten prayer group, we were instructed to write a "love letter" to someone we were having problems with. I could have written to the usual suspects, but seriously? I am so over it. So instead, I decided to write it to some skunks.

Dear Skunk-Bastards,

Remember when... you ate 2 of my baby chickens? (I'm not sure how to relate that without "blame" and still "speak my truth," Sorry.) 

I feel... Really pissed off! because... you bit off their heads and sucked out the blood, leaving me headless, dead chickens.

I know that my part in this is... not keeping my chickens in a hermetically sealed box at night and I am sorry that...I didn't know you could dig under 2 coops and fit through 3 x 3 inch spaces.

Although it it difficult, what I embrace as valuable and worth keeping is... the desire to get rid of every friggin' skunk in the neighborhood.

What I hope for is... an urban-skunk-free existence from now on!

Love,

DC

As a post-script, the peace-making exercise didn't work so well for me. Despite opposing the death penalty for people, I apparently have no such qualms for urban chicken-eating skunks. We caught and removed 4 skunks in the last 10 days. Bastards.

Overheard In the Pews

"I'd like to pick your figs."

"Now put your head here. Can you smell my butt?"

"Fertilize me, Jesus!"

(in)Auspicious Beginnings

After TWO WHOLE POSTS last week, I didn't want you to think that I've forgotten about you. So I am currently writing to you from a darkened hotel in Spokane while my husband lies in bed moaning from a mysterious illness (otherwise known as a hangover).  I'm hoping for a miraculous recovery since his grandmother's funeral is at 1pm today.

Now I don't want you to think Mr. Man is a callous fool who insensitively drank too much the night before a funeral. He simply can't hold his liquor. He's never been very good at it, and his skill in that area decreases as his years increase.  In his mind, however, he can drink with the best of them.  In his mind, drinking 2 or 3 beers is not a problem. This is one area of his life where his indomitable optimism doesn't quite work out for him. He has become quite adept at covering for his hangovers with a myriad of excuses. My favorite is, "I must have eaten some bad shrimp," which is hauled out even if he hasn't had shrimp in weeks.

So after the wake last night, Mr. Man ate some bad shrimp. We were eating shrimp with some of our friends from Spokane who were a delight to catch up with. Despite the sadness of the occasion and all the things we needed to rearrange to be here, I am so very glad we came. Wakes are a unique mix of joy and sorrow, of grief and laughter. As an in-law, I never knew his grandmother in her prime, but I  truly enjoyed hearing the stories of her life, especially those she would never have told me herself. We've been able to reconnect with old friends and meet more of Mr. Man's extended family. The occasion is sad, but the outcome is a blessing.

Mr. Manniversary!

We were hoping to have kids a year after we got married, but so far, no luck.  And while the whole "you're-technically-not-infertile" infertility thing has been kind of a drag, there has been at least one joyful outcome. I've been lucky enough to have four delicious years of having my husband all to myself.

Today is our anniversary and I feel so lucky to be part of a marriage that is goofy, warm, and so, so, happy. I've loved every minute of the past few years and can't wait for what life brings us next.

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Man! I love you!

Liturgical Nightmares, Real and Imagined

Not only did you, the music minister, move right into the Gospel Alleluia after the Responsorial Psalm, you did so on Ash Wednesday, when there is both a second reading and no "Alleluia."

You are holding hands with the priest by the altar during the Our Father and you notice that not only is your fly down, but your shirt is sticking out of the zipper.

For the Prayers of the Faithful at your fancy multicultural liturgy, the Portugese speaker did not translate his prayer not from the English one in the worship aide, "Let us pray for Peace among all peoples" but created his own. The rest of the Portugese speakers said it roughly translated to "That the hippies stop running the churches."

You taught all the Christmas pageant kids to begin their pageant when they hear people singing "Alleluia", only to discover during Mass that the choir director chose Psalm 118 for the Responsorial.

The naked baby peed in the baptismal font, and then the priest used that water for the sprinkling rite.

You had placed ashes on the foreheads of most of the community before realizing that you were saying "Turn away from the Gospel and be faithful to sin."