I'm not terribly interesting.

Um...had two tests this morning, think I totally kicked ass at both of them (I knew all eight non-Milwaukeean Jewish guys. Boo-yah. And the ten plagues. In order.), but then I have on on Thursday and I...don't even really want to think about it so much. Like, I feel like I can't study anymore and want to go to bed, but it's only 8:43 and that would be ridiculous.

Can't wait for it to be Thursday afternoon. Then a lovely weekend!

I would like it to be Friday, please.

Not just because of the whole major life shit hitting the fan and hey, why can't I ever get through a senior year of ANYTHING without major health issues? I don't even want to think about what will happen if I go to grad school. But tests! Two on Tuesday and then one Thursday and I feel completely unprepared.

Except not. I actually feel quite prepared for the Tuesday ones. Which is also confusing, because then I think I'm getting overconfident and that's not good and surely I'll get the Moses test and completely blank on something ridiculous like the plagues (I rang them all of this morning, except for the seventh. Hail. Good to know.)

Jewish WI is...well, more difficult because there are more numbers and names and stuff. I do know that in 1850 the population of Wisconsin was 305,000 and in 1860 it was 7760 (2559 of whom were Jewish) and that Joseph Mann because mayor of Two Rivers in 1866, only because there are two "n's" in his name, "Two" Rivers, and two "6's" in the year.

Arab-Israeli? I'm about as screwed as the Israelis. Or the Arabs, for that matter. But we'll worry about that at 12:15 on Tuesday, after I've finished mangling the life of Moses.

NOT Goodwill. Not Goodwill at all.

Boston Store apparently does not want me to have a credit card.

My little sister? Who has no credit history, no credit cards, and had to call me to find out her social security number? Sure, no problem, and can we increase your limit in 90 days? I, who have credit cards that I pay, maybe not off but ALWAYS ON TIME, and actually know my social security number? Denied.

Stupid. I'm calling again in the morning.

Meanwhile, I definitely need to stay away from Boston Store. It makes Kohl's look like a gateway drug.

Viewers like you.

Today in Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed we watched a video because...well, ostensibly it was to "tie together our study of the life of Moses." I think it was just because the professor didn't want to talk for seventy-five minutes and hey! I don't want to listen to you for seventy-five minutes and then memorize everything you say by Tuesday!

Awesome.

It was an interesting video too; kept me interested, mostly in trying to figure out if Bruce Feiler is gay or not. (Turns out no- just southern.)

I had a few thoughts- mostly about why there are always angsty walking-around-ruins-with-dramatic-music-whilst-contemplating-the-universe shots in these PBS documentaries.

And I'm sorry, are you allowed to just go to St. Catherine's Monastery? Like, to sleep? It's hardly a Motel 6.

Also, can you just wander around? I mean, it's hardly safe. If I were just trying to devote my life to God, I'd be really sick of having to interrupt my Byzantine Greek chanting to go find whatever Eager Beaver American who had just read The Da Vinci Code and gotten himself lost in the library. Talk about your penance.

You need an hour to get dressed for a 4 a.m. prayer service? Who are you trying to impress? Jesus doesn't care.

During the prayer service: "This is the most extraordinary display of devotion and faith I've ever experienced." So we're gonna film it!

Riding a camel: Oh! You made a "Lawrence of Arabia reference"! I'm sure that's the first time he's heard that! Yankee bitch.

Looking at an inscription: "Looks more like Latin to me." Yeah. Sure. I'm going to listen to the guy in the NorthFace jacket over the Greek Orthodox monk who is like 150 years old and is discreetly rolling his eyes in the corner.

I long for the glory days...

...of CSI:NY. First season? I was there. I could recite some of those episodes. I shipped Smacked like FedEx. Second season? Mac lost the ties, I was still there. By the time Mac woke up with Peyton, meh, I was kind of over it. Last season I don't think I even watched all the episodes because by 9:00 I was, like, half asleep.

This season? Danny's paralyzed, Mac's all pouty for no reason, Stella and Adam are sleeping together, and that overachieving chick from Shark is cleaning crime scenes?

Ugh. Remember Aiden? Remember when it was all dark and cool and Mac and Stella had a shot with each other?

I'm going to go watch my DVDs.

(Well, no, that's not true. I'm going to bed probably. Because it's, like, ten o'clock.)

Now I'm really confused.

I got an letter from the History Department today, congratulating me for being singled out by one of my professors last semester as an "outstanding student".

It was a professor that I hated. For most of the semester. He was...weird. Creepy. Discussed lots of stuff my little repressed self doesn't want to discuss (unless it's a Facebook discussion of The Lost Symbol, in which case all bets are off.). EVER. Certainly not in a seminar.

But you tell the department that I want to spend the rest of my life in that I'm outstanding? Dude, I will have your babies.

(Even if his sexuality was a constant question amongst my friends and I. We were very confused.)

So yes, this is very exciting.

I think my favorite part was the paragraph at the end which was the standard, "Hey, if you have any questions about the history major, please contact me", and then signed by the head of the department, who happens to be my thesis advisor.

Yeah. The one who KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT THE HISTORY MAJOR.

That made me laugh.

Guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow.

I've begun researching my thesis because I freaked out last week when I realized I had about six weeks to do all of it in. A lot of the material I'm looking at is pointing towards Lumen Gentium, even though I'm actually writing about Nostra Aetate. So I decided to print it off the Vatican Archives website and oh hey, that bad boy is 40 pages long.

Oookay.

So after I pry my contact lenses off my eyes after all that reading, I'm going to have to go to Office Max to buy some more ink.

This is very exciting, I know.

Emmys! Emmys! Emmys!

Um...I don't want to write an actual entry because there is wine to be drunk and insults to be shouted at the screen (Brian No One Watches Breaking Bad Cranston over Jon I am God's Gift To Women Hamm? What the hell? The Emmy voters must be all male. AND JEALOUS.), but you can read all of my thoughts (no, really, all of them) at my twitter.

So...go do that.

Or not. But please do. Because I crave your affection.

It was this or a review of Ratzinger's "Theological Highlights of Vatican II."

Heloise 2.0 is still fine.

I am still relieved.

I am still nervous that Heloise 2.0 will break at some time in the future and I cannot go back to the Apple Store, they're just getting annoyed with me now.

I need to stay away from Kohl's. It's a sickness. Really.

I got Kohl's cash!!! Whee!!!

I'm like two hundred pages into The Lost Symbol and holy bad writing, Batman, is that the most craptastic book ever. I kind of want to buy a copy just so I can read it again and again if I'm ever feeling poorly about the world because look! We live in a world where DAN FREAKING BROWN can get millions of people to think he knows not only hidden secrets of all of life's greatest institutions but that he also knows how to put together an English sentence that doesn't make you want to retch a little.

I am such a snob.

Meet Heloise.

A little over a month ago, I got Heloise the iPhone. Heloise did not have a proper name at first- she was just the iPhone. The savior. The promised one. That thing you won't put down my Lord do you love it more than you will love your children?


We were ridiculously happy together. She allowed me to update my Facebook status FROM PLACES WITHOUT A COMPUTER Y'ALL. I loved her...well, more than I'll probably love my children.

Then, she broke. She stopped playing songs. She started playing songs again, sometimes when I didn't even ask her to and really, really wanted her to be quiet. She would not play songs in order, which made my addiction to listening to The Phantom of the Opera in sequence very difficult. Then her screen cracked for no reason at all while I was asleep across the house. I still don't know what that was all about.

I thought wait, maybe she's feeling neglected. I should name her! We name everything. My sister has Elmer the Backpack, my brother has Gary the Guitar (I think his other guitar is named Ed or something equally unimaginative.) Clearly, she needed a name.

So she became Heloise. Because ever since that morning in 204 when we discussed it, the Heloise and Abelard story has been my favorite historical tale. Ever. Three year later, thinking about my TA saying, "He became a monk. Obviously." still makes me laugh.

And lo! Once she had a name and the Guy at Genius Bar Whose Name I'm Forgetting told me how to not import corrupted files onto her, she was fixed! Yay!

For a good twenty four hours.

Then...not so much.

So we trooped back to the Genius Bar, where there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Mostly coming from Jason, the Genius, who had no idea what the frick I was talking about or how to fix it or why Heloise was suddenly possessed by demons.

I don't know either, Jason, I don't know either.

So Jason looked at Heloise. And looked at me. And said, "Yeah. I'm just going to swap this out. Sign this please?"

Heloise will now be spending eternity somewhere in Apple Store Land, where she can begin playing my hideous playlists at random and annoying all the other bad little iPhones who end up there.

Meanwhile, I have Heloise 2.0. She seems to be doing okay. But there's really no way to tell for a few days and so help me God, she had better still be doing okay. I even bought her new headphones because I was getting downright superstitious about anything having to do with Heloise 1.0.

So. We'll see how this goes. I may have to slaughter a few goats to keep her placated.

It's an upper-level class, for God's sake.

Today in 379 we spent the day in small groups discussing the problems inherent in utilizing the Dead Sea Scrolls as a primary source for understanding first-century Judaism.

Or rather, we were supposed to.

Instead I ended up in the dumbest group I've ever been a part of.

I had a lot of well-thought-out points, mostly about the bias that would be incipient in an Essene tract. This was a radical Jewish sect, far removed from the Temple in Jerusalem and more mainstream Jews. Of course, there is a school of thought that says Christ was probably an Essene, which would explain a lot of interest in these scrolls by Christian scholars as well as Jewish historians.

The rest of the group's consensus? "Yeah, I think it's the language barrier."

Except...there isn't a language barrier. I mean, yeah, if you handed me a copper fragment written in Aramaic script with Hebrew phonics, I'd have a major problem. But if you handed it to someone who, oh, I don't know, has devoted their life to learning first-century Aramaic? I'm pretty sure they're good.

Also one of the guys remarked, "I heard that they, like, think they have the cloth Jesus was buried in?" A girl responded, "Really?" I responded, "The Shroud of Turin?" The guy replied, "I don't think so."

Um. I do think so.

(Not that it's necessarily the actual cloth Christ was buried in.)

(But still.)

That was a really long 75-minutes.

We're okay now.

I wask kind of mad at my thesis advisor because he has, like, NO information about what I need to do or when I need to have it completed by or whether I need to go to an entirely different university to find someone to read it. But I met with him today and he signed the form and actually made eye contact with me (last time he didn't- the entire time. It was quite strange.) and he has my calendar. So that's pretty cool.

Other than that, I'm tired. And really sick of reading about Wisconsin history.

I still love you, Taylor Swift.

Even if you don't know how Romeo and Juliet ends.

I didn't even see the whole Kanye thing, but after every single update on my homepage was about this, I had to google. Poor form, Kanye. Poor form.

Soo...birthday weekend over. I had a lovely time, did lots of fun things, and ate way too much. Um...if you want cake? We've got some?

Ooh, and I fixed my iPhone. Or, rather, the Genius Whose Name I'm Forgetting fixed it and it's worked almost perfectly for an entire day which is WAY better than average. And he even replaced the screen that shattered for NO REASON while it was SITTING IN MY BAG overnight and didn't even charge me for it even though it totally wasn't covered by warranty even though it should have been because SERIOUSLY NO REASON.

Now it's doing this weird thing where it skips? Like a CD? But not a whole lot, and whatever, I'm ignoring it for now.

22

Discussing viewing options...

Colleen: Well, it's your birthday, so I guess we can watch whatever. *huge dramatic sigh*

Me: What do you want to watch?

Colleen: I don't know...something light and funny and British...

Me: Doctor Who!

Colleen: Meh. It's all sci-fi, but whatever blows your skirt up.

Me: David Tennant can blow my skirt up.

Mom: I'm recording this.

Me: Oh. Good.

Just FYI, my little brother figured out how to say "sadomasochism" in Spanish, which will undoubtedly be helpful in any number of situations he may one day find himself in. And who says the public education system in the country is broken?

A Good Jew.

I'll admit I'm biased. I'm Catholic. I've always been Catholic. I will always be Catholic. But I've spent a lot of time studying the Jewish faith. And I have one overwhelming thought.

FOLLOW JESUS IT IS EASIER TRUST ME.

Honestly. There are no weird rules. There aren't really any competing traditions. We have vowels.

All good things.

The "don't boil a calf in his mother's milk" vs. rabbinical traditions and the whole TNK thing?

Not so much.

Meanwhile, I declared a Jewish Studies major today. This is very exciting.

Good times.

I kind of love this semester. Tuesday and Thursday are long but full of fantastic classes full of awesome, and Monday and Wednesdays are ONE CLASS. And ART HISTORY CLASS. So I get to sleep in, spend most of the day at home, find free parking, and look at pictures of pretty churches for 75 minutes before returning home, usually before 4:30.

Now. If I could just figure out this whole thesis thing. My advisor is no help at all- he's not entirely sure whether I'm an undergraduate or grad student half the time. I think there's a form? I have to fill out? I don't know. Tomorrow I'm (hopefully) switching my second major, so keep your fingers crossed for that. I'm really worried she's going to tell me, "No, we don't want your little shiksa butt. Please leave now."

That's ridiculous. But sometimes I am too.

Excuse me, your Catholicism is showing.

Today I had the first lecture in my Moses, Jesus, and Mohammad class. All of last week's time was devoted to an incredibly protracted disclaimer about how this was a HISTORY class in which we would only discuss HISTORICAL FACTS and there would NO BIAS and HISTORY HISTORY HISTORY.

Only to have the professor turn around and begin using incredibly Christian rhetoric unconsciously throughout the whole class. He said "ascended into heaven" like six times in reference to the Egyptian polytheistic beliefs. The Egyptians didn't call their afterlife "heaven". Ever. Meanwhile, I'm finishing the Nicene Creed in my head.

I mean, I don't mind, because your cultural filters are my cultural filters, baby, but still. Not unbiased.

In other religion-related news, the Over-Eager Protestants were back handing out little New Testaments on campus today. EVERYWHERE. Like, on ever corner. Which meant I got to politely decline the Word of God eighteen different times and WHATEVER STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I'M A BAD PERSON I ALREADY HAVE A NEW TESTAMENT, SIR. Incidentally, in another class the professor said he was getting kind of sick of having to go, "No, thank you, I already have one," every five minutes. Katie just looked at me and laughed.

I have major problems with these people. Because I applaud their fortitude. I certainly wouldn't do what they do, but it's just awkward. And I feel like I should take it because it is the Bible, even if it's the Weird Protestant Version, but then I'm left in the awkward position of having half a Bible lying around that I can't get rid of because it's the Bible but I don't really need it because it's not the whole Bible and I ALREADY HAVE SEVERAL I SWEAR I'M A GOOD PERSON.

In non-religion-related news, the iPod part of my iPhone has stopped working. It doesn't like playing a song for longer than three seconds, and it occasionally likes to select a song and start playing it at random like, when I'm in class, making it imperative that I keep the sound off. This sucks. What's worse is that until close of the store today I could have walked in and gotten an entirely new phone, no questions asked, because I bought it exactly 30 days ago. I called and discovered this as 8:56 PM. They closed at 9:00 PM.

Maybe I should have taken the Over-Eager Protestant's New Testament.

Does starting an online episode of Mad Men count as labor?

I think not. Party in a few hours. It's been a good holiday.

Anyway, I was leaving Mass this morning when somebody said, "Kathleen!" I stopped, because this actually happens a lot. It's usually someone I don't actually know who goes on to say, "Oh! You're John's granddaughter! We miss him so much!" And I have to smile and go, "Yes. Thanks, yeah, we do too. Now, do you know how to paint a ceiling?"

But this time it was some guy who looked vaguely familiar. He shook my hand and said, "Do you know anything about Jewish history in Milwaukee?"

Turns out he's one of the auditors in my Jewish Wisconsin class. Which made me feel kind of badly because I spent like an hour yesterday ranting about how if there is seating chart for that class the auditors are just going to mess it up and my God, man, there are only like three real students in the class and I know you can't tell my sister and me apart but whatever, neither can our parents some days and THIS IS JUST NOT A GOOD IDEA THE OLD PEOPLE THEY WILL SCREW WITH IT.

I'm sure this guy is smart enough to not mess with the seating chart.

He did ask if I had taken any of his other courses, and I had to think of a better response than, "Um. Yeah. All of them."

It's true. But it tends to creep people out.

We're at that place.

I helped my mom clean out her closet this afternoon and we came across her wedding gown. I realized that unlike every other daughter in the world, I've never tried it on. Clearly, this had to be remedied.

Also I was a little bit tired of sorting sweatshirts. My mother has a lot of sweatshirts.

I was pretty sure it wouldn't go on, because my mom weighed about as much as an African AIDS baby when she got married. It did go on, and it closed past my waist, and then stopped at my chest. I guess she wasn't a 34 D. Whatever.

She also suggested that my black bra made me look "less than virginal". Thanks, Mom.

I so need to marry wealthy.

Recently somebody asked me what I want to be when I grow up. I laughed and replied that I needed to marry into wealth. I was kidding. Sort of.

Today we picked up Grandpa's mail and discovered a Brooks Brothers catalogue that ostensibly should have gone to Renter Sent From God.

(We could tell this by the fact that HE HAS A CUSTOMER NUMBER. AT BROOKS BROTHERS. Did I mention how much I hate him?)

I have spent the better part of the evening paging through it and drinking. Not a good combination. I have fallen in love with each and every male model, and a good number of the female ones. What? They're statuesque and very handsome.

On one page, a gentleman wears a bow tie. Without a hint of irony.

On another, a silk scarf is for sale- only $298.

My mom asked my dad how his cashmere sweaters were holding up- they were running a special, only $300 for three.

I am not feeling so good about my choice to pursue graduate degrees in history and theology. I can't even envision a scenario in which either of those things ends up with me spending $200 on a twinset. Maybe in National Treasure. Maybe. But even they gave the treasure away, and poor Diane Kruger had to go back to paying off her student loans.

Hmmm. Maybe I should call customer service and see if they have Renter's credit card on file. The evening could have just gotten better!

Genocide is easy.

I love this one professor. I stalk him. He gives me As, I sign up for all of his woefully underfunded classes. It's a twisted relationship, but it works. However, after hearing three of his introductory lectures today, my goodnes, I could write that damn syllabus.

I did find out that I don't have to find anyone else to read my thesis, and there is no defense. Oh. Thank. God. That just relieved like 97% of the stress of this year.

Now I can just relax and focus on...the Holocaust?

That's better.

First day of classes was lovely. Had a latte and a muffin and a wrap and wow, is it weird that I can tell you more about what I had for lunch than what went on in my architecture class? I don't think so. Of everyone in my family, my relationship with food has always been the healthiest. Well, at least until I met Pacific Wraps.

Anyway.

My Italian Renaissance class is lovely, and the professor is not the evil woman her picture and emails make her out to be. She is, however, an architect. She gets into, like, building materials and tension and stuff and whatever, lady, can we talk about iconography in relief sculpture yet? Because that is so much more fun.

Tomorrow is so much religion than I may decide to screw it all and become an atheist by 5:00 (unlikely, I suppose.) Jewish Wisconsin, Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed, Arab-Israeli conflict, and intro to Jewish history. AND then I feel like I should got to Mass just to reorientate myself.

May 18th was a long time ago.

Ahh. Tomorrow classes start. I ended up on campus today, running errands, and discovered that...wow. There are a lot of people. Huh. I think I know why I like the middle of the semester after everybody stops showing up. Oh well. It will still be fun.

I'm not sure how much fun art history will be, because I got a rather snippy e-mail from the professor basically telling us that we were ALL RESPONSIBLE FOR GETTING OUR SYLLABUS OFF D2L AND THERE WOULD BE NO PAPER COPIES AND OMG YOU'D BETTER HAVE IT. However, it hasn't actually been posted on D2L yet. So...yeah. There's that.

Anyway. Jewish history looks ridiculously easy- three tests and a paper. Other than the anal-retentive prohibition of eating anything or using a laptop, seems pretty good.

However, I don't get my T-Money fix until Thursday. *pouts* This is very disappointing.