40 Days for Life

40 Days for Life started yesterday and I am excited. For 40 Days, ending on All Souls Day in November, there will be a 24/7 prayer vigil outside of local abortion clinics. The campaign started only 5 years ago, and in that short time it has grown from one city to nearly 200. The abortion clinic in the first city, College Station, has since shut down. Already there are several stories of saves on the 40 Days for Life blog,which will be updated daily. There are even daily devotionals that span the event.

On our radio show tonight, we're interviewing David Bereit, the founder of 40 Days for Life. You can listen here at 9pm Eastern time (click on radio: listen live).

Sadly, we have an abortion clinic here in Greenville. Since I moved here, I started going to pray there on Saturday mornings, and I have to say that it is the best and worst thing you can do with your day (I usually go shopping afterward to cheer myself up). It is truly sobering to see girls being driven in by their parents, boyfriends, husbands, etc. It's sadder to see them drive out. Once I locked eyes with a teenage girl in the backseat of a car driven by what I assume was her mother, and I'll never forget that moment.

The success stories of 40 Days for Life are pretty incredible. If you are able to get involved locally, please do. You will not regret it. And keep in mind that this is your community. God will ask you what you did to battle against the evils of this world. If you are fortunate enough to live far away from any abortion clinic, you can still pray, fast, and offer up the millions of souls (almost 50 million since Roe v. Wade) that have been lost to this horrific practice.

Still in the 90s

Living in the South will make you rethink your wardrobe choices.

Allow me to explain. At the beginning of the summer, I bought a pair of white demin shorts (white denim?? I know, what was I thinking? In my defense, they were $6 on clearance at the Gap) that I promptly returned within a week of taking up residence in South Carolina. It doesn’t matter how scandalously short or matronly loose-fitting they are, the feeling of denim against your skin when it’s 95 degrees and just as humid out can be described as ‘uncomfortable’ at best.

I’ve learned that fabric matters. When it came to work clothes at my office in Michigan, there was no real differentiation between summer and winter wear- typically it was colder with the AC on June than with the heater in January (see: cold, colder, and coldest), so it was tweed pants and sweaters all year round. But no more.

Gone are the lined pants and snug-fitting tops, packed away for colder days (presuming they ever actually visit this part of the country). It’s light, flowy blouses and linen capris for this girl; flip-flops and lots of pony-tails.

Unfortunately, it's taking me a while to adjust my wardrobe. As a result, I'm pretty sure the people of Greenville think I only own one pair of pants. Luckily, I don't get out much (but more on that later).

4th of July Nostalgia

As I threw my garbage into the trash compactor this afternoon, the coffee grounds inside exploded like a caffeinated cherry bomb.

It was awesome.

I Can See Russia From My House

Tina Fey makes a scary good Sarah Palin.

Curses, Ike!

Gas in Greenville jumped from $3.50 this morning, up to $4.19 most recently. Luckily, I was warned about Ike's impending effects and filled up for $3.85 this afternoon.

Looks like I'll be staying home this weekend.

My Second Pot of Coffee

"You know Hobbes, some days even my lucky rocketship underpants don't help."

Pay up

Tacky, tacky, tacky

Always Summer

Sigh... South Carolina doesn't understand fall.

92 degrees this weekend, in the ides of September? A travesty, I tell you...

On the bright side, my closet full of sundresses is certainly getting used.

h-o-t

I just remembered that I once had a dream that I was Jude Law's nanny.

Also, a description of the Play-Doh Fun Factory: "Squeeze, shape, mold and extrude all kinds of crazy shapes with this classic set!"

Yes, it seems one can actually extrude play-doh. Just what every American 5-year-old is looking for in a toy.

Fall is Here, Ring the Bell

Thanks to Margaret’s wedding and Labor Day, my last weekend was 4+ days long. As you all know, when you’re away, time freezes and nothing happens until you return home. Since the month rolled over during my brief vacation from reality, I completely missed it. That fact, combined with the week starting on a Tuesday completely mixed up my carefully-regulated internal schedules and resulted in some pretty shocking realizations today, namely, the following:

1) It’s Wednesday. This occurred to me while I was scouring the web, looking for previews of the new Publix ad, which come out each Wednesday, when it hit me that it WAS Wednesday, right now! This changes everything! I thought. (In reality, it doesn’t change much except that I’m one day ahead on gas, and I can sleep in tomorrow since my Thursday work days are short)

2) It’s September. While this fact registered with me in some vague way, like starting the date with a ‘9’ instead of an ‘8’ on forms at work, it didn’t show itself in any practical way until tonight, when I realized “Oh, it’s SEPTEMBER! That means rent is due! Again...” (that’s the thing about recurring bills- they just. Keep. Recurring. Seriously Verizon, you want more money from me? I just paid you like… oh yeah, a month ago. Ahem. )

So I dutifully signed away a huge chunk of my last paycheck and put the check in an envelope to drop in my apartment complex’s night box. Now, here’s where the story really gets exciting (I’m sure you’re all on the edge of your seats). When I licked the envelope flap, I managed to (brace yourselves here!) paper cut both sides of my mouth in one fell swoop. Ick, I shudder just to write those words. I’m not sure if enduring bodily harm as part of paying rent is technically ironic, but it’s something pretty crappy.

At any rate, I'm glad it's September- South Carolina took better note of the date change than I did, and adjusted its temperatures accordingly. The past few days have been picture-perfect, and Lucio's windows are fogged up in the morning, reminding me of Michigan and going back to school. I miss both.

Someone Like You

I can't help but remember getting my room assignment in the mail just four years ago, and seeing her name: "Margaret Jago- Canton, GA. Olds 107." I didn't know what I was signing on for when I opened that envelope: Four years of delirious laughter, the Quad, phone calls, hand-written notes, yelling matches, tears, awful movies, pickles, first kisses, shared clothes, vodka, squirrels, Keane, Greek unity, nicknames, and an understanding of each other that surpasses even our own comprehension.

At this moment, she's in Ireland on her honeymoon, and I'm still fighting back tears, thinking about her wedding. Everything about it was beautiful, classy, and free of stress, much like Margaret herself.

Here are a few of my favorite shots from the weekend.

The Wheels on the Bus go... Back and Forth

Precursor to this post: I love my car. Lucio is, literally, a dream come true- a dream born of 5+ years spent driving my parents' car, which I disaffectionately call 'The Boat' because it is *almost* (6 bregrudging inches short) as long as Tony's Roadmaster.

The backseat of the Grand Marquis was perpetually cluttered with my dad's 'emergency' items, like toilet paper, Catholic booklets (also known as 'truth tracts') and raisins (Abe one time, after eating half a jar of stale peanuts, asked me to "Tell your dad to get some better snacks". Let it be known that Lucio comes fully stocked with two different kinds of granola bars and whatever groceries get lost underneath the seats). The Boat also featured a makeshift back support on the driver's seat, crafted from a leftover cushion of unknown origin and some shoestring, and its soul-crushing beige exterior spoke of my handiwork - scratches, dents, and one long scrape along the driver's side from when I ran it alongside the fence at my high school one afternoon (my parents still don't know about that one... shh). All that being said...

Owning a car sucks. Today, Lucio and I took a field trip to the mechanic's after two unsuccessful visits to the tire shop to get my sleek new wheels checked out. For the past few weeks, I've increasingly noticed my car shaking when I drive it at high speeds. I assumed there was something wrong with my tire alignment, a problem I figured might not be unrelated to my habit of taking Lucio over speed bumps a little faster than the road commissioners probably intended. At least, I *hoped* this was the case, since Lucio's tires come with a lifetime warranty, courtesy of his former owner, Carl Polish-last-name-with-four-no-really-four-z's.

But alas, the motor gods were unhappy today. The friendly folks at Discount Tire let me know that my driver side wheel is slowly working itself loose, a fact confirmed by new mechanic, Sonny (have I mentioned I love the South?) It's never a good sign when their reactions is "wow I've never seen wheel bearings completely worn away like this!" Glad I could enlighten you, Sonny.

Unfortunately, both my budget and sanity are balanced rather precariously on the assumption that no disaster, natural or otherwise, will befall them. What's worse is that the two are rather intimately connected- major hits to the budget typically result in a nervous breakdown, usually followed by large purchases of ice cream and liquor, not accounted for in the aforementioned budget... and around and around we go.

On the bright side, I'm 6 short work hours away from a four-day weekend and a three-day wedding celebration. Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy, here I come!

The best thing about being hungry...

... is how good stuff tastes. Have you ever had a Sun Chip when on the brink of starvation? Incredible. A box of Cheeze-its after 8 hours of involuntary fast? Positively gourmet.

If you ever find yourself taking generic brand wheat thins and low-fat yogurt for granted, try eating them as the first course of your dinner- never will you be so grateful for all nine grains of goodness.

Grown-Up Snow Day

Our power at the office went off a little after lunch today, after the lawn care company accidentally chain-sawed through a power line while cutting branches (ironically, the trees were being trimmed to avoid causing power outages during ice storms). Our back-up batteries depleted quickly, and our generator slowly lost its juice until it gave up alltogether less than 2 hours after the hit. So with the AC dead and the South Carolina sun beating in through the windows, turning our building into a greenhouse, we were sent home at 2:30.

Better than a canceled class (because I have no homework to feel guilty about not catching up on!). I think I'll hit the pool.

Happy Feast of the Assumption!!

Major perk of working at a Catholic ministry: paid vacation for Holy Days of Obligation! Another thing I love about my South.

Hot-lanta, here I come.