It's like high school. With less money, actually.

Okay. There's this department at school. A department that shall remain nameless. A department that's actually quite easy to figure out because I'm really only intimately acquainted with two departments, and, well, this is one of them. Anyway. The professors in this department are basically little children and spend their days searching for ways to screw each other over.

Unfortunately, the students involved sometimes get screwed over, too.

Like me. Who is enrolled in an advanced independent study course in this unnamed department. At UWM you need to fill out a study proposal form detailing exactly what you're going to do for the class in order to get credit. I talked to my professor, he told me what to write, I turned in the form.

Except the second person who had to sign the form doesn't really totally like my professor. And maybe kind of totally didn't accept the form because (s)he didn't like what my professor wrote on it. Leaving me without the required study proposal form completed.

Cut to Wednesday, when I happily go out to get the mail. Look! There's a letter from the College of Letters and Sciences. Ooh, this is exciting. I love getting letters from school. Since they stopped sending paper bills, all my correspondence from UWM is always happy- I don't want to toot my own horn but they don't send out letters unless you're failing or doing well, and believe me, you'd know if I was failing something. Hell, you'd know if I got a B.

Except this was not a happy letter. This was a mean letter, yelling at me about this study proposal that I have yet to submit. AND HEY, MAYBE YOU'RE NOT A SENIOR AND MAYBE YOU DON'T HAVE A 2.5 GPA STUPID WHORE.

What. Oh, no. You do not tell me that I'm not eligible for independent study. I am a senior. And I do have a 2.5 GPA. In fact, the only reason this is a problem at all is that MY STUPID PROFESSORS CAN'T ACT LIKE ADULTS.

So I had to fill out a new form with way more information (field trip- whee!) and turn it in have Katie turn it in, and so help me God, you guys in the Unnamed Department had better put on your big girl panties and DEAL WITH IT because I AM AT THE END OF MY ROPE DO YOU HEAR ME? 18 credits, cancer, thesis avoidance writing, grad school applications, and mounting credit card debt because shopping is a way better way to deal with this than, like, actually working.

So DON'T MESS WITH ME.

IMDB to the rescue.

IMDB has saved my life on several occasions. And not just he "oh, crap, I know I know that guy from somewhere...maybe a CSI?" occasions. No, real occasions like the ACT.

When I took the ACT one of my vocabulary words was anachronistic. As ridiculous as it is, I didn't technically know what that word meant. But I did know that it was sometimes listed a goof on IMDB, and therefore probably meant something about being in the incorrect time period. And I got a 35 on the verbal portion of the test.

On my Jewish history exam this afternoon my extensive Nanny viewings came in handy, as most of the questions were about your garden-variety Judaism like "can they eat pork?" and hello, I did not spend hours of my life watching Nick at Nite for nothing, mister.

So...I'm not sure where I was going with that. Except maybe to tell any youngsters out there to watch more TV? Because it will help you later in life?

The Midrash is just so not as exciting.

Good weekend, y'all. We roadtripped it up to Door County, which is massive amounts of fun. Also massive amounts of fun? Eating massive amounts of food. Which is pretty much all I did this weekend. Which is why I'm kind of impressed that my dress looks good this morning because my people? They tend to bloat.

There was quite a lot of talk about my Jewish WI class, in fact, there may even be pictures of Colleen and me pretending to be Jean Nicolet underneath a sign. I may have made my dad turn around so I could take a picture of the Two Rivers sign because dude! Joseph Mann became mayor there in 1866! And this is very exciting! (Two Creeks or whatever it was that followed it? Meh, don't care so much. They had no Jews.)

The class that didn't get talked about so much? The one I have a test in tomorrow. A test that I think will be difficult. For no reason. But I do. And I don't have a clue who Samuel na Hagid is. I don't even know if that's how you spell his name. And I'm having a major problem keeping all the terms straight because it's not my religion and I haven't been raised with it and my Gentile mouth doesn't even make some of those sounds (Transubstantiation? I can say that no problem.) and ugh, I can never remember what "halakah" means.

Yeah...we'll see. The first half is matching and hopefully the essay is something easy, like "Write about the rise of Christianity."

Because I've discovered the secret. It's an awesome secret. I'm thinking of composing a Guide To Being A Jewish Studies Major For Little Irish Catholic Girls. It's quite simple really- genius, in fact. Write about Jesus. Just...write about Jesus and throw in a little bit of background about the Pharisees and the Sadducees or something else kind of remotely Jewish.

I'm writing two papers for two different Jewish studies classes right now- one's on how St. Jerome's choice in picking the word for "horns" instead of "glorified" (and yes, it was a choice not a mistake, and yes, that is my thesis) impacted the representation of Moses in art; the other is about Father Marquette. I'm writing my freaking thesis on Vatican II and getting Jewish credit for it for heaven's sake- I just need to shove a paragraph in there about Nostra Aetate and we're all set.

The true test will come when I need to pick a paper topic for my Arab/Israeli conflict class. Hmmm. I'm sure I'll come up with something. The secret does not disappoint.

I do so love academic ceremonies.

Sooo...I really want to join Phi Alpha Theta, the history honor society. Because I fricking love being invited to honor societies and look, okay, I know that it's hardly a real honor society because you only need a 3.1 GPA, but whatever, I want in. Except they want $40. Which I don't technically have to spend right now. And it's less impressive to have to ask your mommy for money to join an honor society.

I probably will still do this. I have no pride.

Also I desperately need something to recommend me. I need to write my statement of purpose in the next few weeks (or rather, like three different versions of it, depending on the school and whether I'm applying for a history or theology program) and I just realized that yes, I have a 3.9 GPA and a fantastic academic record, but because I have spent the last three years of my life maintaining that 3.9? I don't have a whole lot else going on to put on a resume.

I don't know how impressed the history department at Northwestern will be when the most I can give them to work with is "can watch a staggering number of Law and Order: Criminal Intent episodes in a row and knows all the lines to the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie." Not totally sure they'll give you a Ph.D for that.

Maybe. I mean, I guess I don't know.

So this would look good, and they're also looking for volunteers to help organize the induction ceremony, which, dude, sign me up. An academic ceremony? I am there. I don't care if I have a reason to be there, I am.

I think it's the latent distress over never ever having a graduation.

I picked the right career path.

(No, not the marrying up one.)

(Although my mom did come home from the doctor the other day saying, "Yeah, he was adorable. I really wanted to say, hey, do you want to come home and meet my 22-year-old?" And honey, the 22-year-old is totally down with that.)

(Anyway.)

During The Office tonight Oscar was joking about the problems with having two managers and said, "I mean, where would Catholicism be without the popes?" And my first reaction was, ooh! The Avignon papacy! That didn't work so well!

Dork.

Three out of five tests finished, and they're the bad ones. The only two left are Jewish history, which I'm anticipating is going to be pretty easy because...it's matching? And I'm pretty good on my Jewish history? I don't know, I don't care anymore. Renaissance Architecture is just an online quiz so...not seeing a whole lot of problems with that one.

The bad one, Arab-Israeli Conflict, was today. I think it went alright, even though I completely ran out of time and room and my right leg alternated between piercing pain and numbness because of some spastic pinched nerve thing. Whatever. The final essay was Palestine from 1919 to 1939 like THERE WEREN'T A MILLION DIFFERENT THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN THOSE TWENTY YEARS. But I think I got everything.

My problem with this one was that it was basically an amalgamation of stuff from other classes I've taken. So I knew all the words, I was just less than certain that I could put them in the right order. I mean, you say Peel Commission to me and I can tell you it was from May to July of 1937 and suggested an 80/20 partition of Palestine, establishing Tel-Aviv as the capital of Israel, but I'm not sure I'd remember to put in the middle of an essay about the 1930s in the Middle East.

(Except I know I remembered that one.)

Oh well, it's over. I'll find out in a week how I did, so, yeah, stay tuned for that.

Then I came home, backed a Due Date Cake for Colleen (who is not, in fact, pregnant herself, rather commemorating our mother's pregnancy with her), and watched like two hours of The Big Bang Theory.

Way more fun than the French bombing Damascus on October 12, 1925.

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.