Babies. ALL THE BABIES!

This one might come as a shock to some of you who know me. I mean, I’m all pro-life, sick of contraception and its stupid culture, and ranting about unleashing my Catholic mini-minions upon the world as I laugh in the face of Planned Barrenhood. (Oh yeah, I just cliched that sentence to alarming levels. Kewl.)

However, in spite of all that, I’ve been a little terrified of actually having babies. No, not the physical act. That’s scary, but my body was made to do that. Biology is yucky, and that’s why I’m not a scientist. (that and my infernal arch nemesis, aka mathematics).

Nope, what I’m terrified of is having a baby, like RIGHT on the wedding night, BOOM I’m preggers. This could be because of the messages I’m getting from friends, family (the same ones that said I should “let loose” or rather, have lots of “protected” sex) and the culture around me. Here’s a few things that have been bouncing in my head for years, and have been repeated to me as soon as I mention I’m getting married.

  1. BABIES WILL RUIN YOUR MARRIAGE OMG 1!1!!!1!!!
  2. Don’t have babies in the first two years, spend the time “getting to know each other”.
  3. Wait to have kids, or you’re an idiot.
  4. Don’t have kids at all, they’ll ruin your bank and relationship.
  5. If you are constantly getting pregnant, no employer will hire you.
  6. Children are too expensive omg!!!
  7. Wait until you’re financially secure, with a good job, possibly tenure at some place, and when the stars align in the third ring of Jupiter’s uncle’s mother’s sister’s great auntie, then you can have kids.

So, in desperation, I turned to prayer. I say desperation, because I’m a stubborn individualist. I think sometimes God is amused, but other times he just sits and sighs. After a while, God got some reason through to me and helped me figure out a few things.

  1. Its not kids that ruined your marriage, its you and your husband/wife. Kids don’t ask to be conceived, they don’t choose their parents, and they cannot possibly handle all of your adult problems. Simply put, quit projecting your marital problems on *me* and your own kids!
  2. “Getting to know each other” is just your way of saying “use birth control”. I can think of no better way to quickly know your spouse than pregnancy, and no better way to deny your spouse than using some messed up hormonal pill or a condom that apparently doesn’t feel so good. Holy crap, I just want to have some natural sex. Can’t you supposedly “organic” snooty people let me have some wholesome, natural, organic, sex?
  3. Kids don’t cost so much if you wouldn’t buy designer clothes they’ll never appreciate or want. At this point, you’re spoiling yourself on vanity.
  4. If an employer will discriminate against you for being a pregnant woman, your employer is a pig. A sexist one. That employer will probably also try to get you to choose some company that will lay you off quicker than you can say “unfair labor practices” over your family.
  5. There is no right time to have a kid, in our own time. However, in God’s time, the time to have a kid is always perfect. 

I kid you not, I’m not nearly so nervous about the idea as I was before. Getting pregnant soon into my marriage will be difficult, but pregnancy is difficult. And I’m not kidding about the raw sex. The more I learn about condoms and birth control, the more I really don’t like them. If I’m going to sit here and insist on real glass for my drinks, and avoid teflon, and try to buy local with my fruits and veggies and what-not, why the HELL would I take a birth control pill and screw up my hormones? As far as I know, I don’t need it medically, so why should I think about using something my body doesn’t freaking need? And it doesn’t take a non-virgin to know that condoms are not as comfortable as they should be.

And hell, it all sounds so unsexy. Seriously, how would it heighten the moment to pause, roll on a condom, grab some extra lube since Señorita V can’t keep up against plastic dryness, and FINALLY have sex? And then you have to worry about breakage, or slippage, or if one of you might have a previously undiagnosed latex issue (I knew a guy with it once. Quite hilarious, as he was the campus creeper as well. Guess how he found out? LOLZZZ) or any of all that.

Contrast that to kissing, touching, saying whatever the hell it is couples say to eachother, hopefully good foreplay, and then just going forth and multiplying?

Now I just gotta work on my repsonses to people when they tell me all the BS about The Pill and Condoms.

Hey, if they want to give me unsolicited awkward as shit advice, I’ll be happy to give them a session of TMI. I suspect I’ll get extra points after I get married, because then I can let them know EXACTLY how I feel.

Muahahahhaahahahaha. This is going to be like that stupid prof who wanted to know why I had had to leave class for 5 minutes, and explaining “the bathroom” just wasn’t enough for her. Let’s just say Profe never asked about my bodily functions again.

 

 

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Moving In, Moving On

Well hello there, people! I’m back! I’ve done another of my disappearing acts, and its again due to a lot of stuff that’s been going on. I’m trying to consider whether I should end this blog, continue, or start a new one, where I won’t be anonymous, and the focus might have changed.

Not that it won’t be full of Catholic ranting. Of course, that remains a constant.

So, what’s with the long absence? Well, I’ve quit my job at the call center. It was either that, or I’d get fired for being nothing more than a temp worker. Plus, I had no ambition to become a permanent member of a business devoted to scamming the ignorant out of money, while claiming to help them.

Anyway, bitterness about that stupid low  paying job aside, other things have been going on. The wedding is no longer going to be held in Mexico. It was excruciatingly difficult to hear the lawyer let us know our options and to realize that going to Mexico would be a bad idea. Yeah, my fiance is illegal. Go bitch about it on YouTube or something because I don’t freaking care.

Because of that we’ve had to re-plan the entire wedding, and our budget, and everything. On the one hand, its great, because a certain maid of awesomeness won’t have to blow her money on a trip to Mexico, and I get some more control over decorations. On the other hand, its heart breaking. Mr. Serrano misses his mother, grandfather, and siblings so much, and he’s losing hope that he’ll ever see them again. I cried for days, feeling guilty that in an indirect manner, it is my fault he’s not with them now. He doesn’t blame me, and I don’t blame myself anymore, but its not fair that his mother can’t see her oldest son married. I’ll find a way to make it up to her- she seems to be an awesome woman from what I can see in the photographs.

However, the wedding is now bumped up to September, which has me excited!!!! In an unprecedented show of generosity my parents are allowing the party to take place on the farm, so I’m going to have a wedding that looks like it came out of Real Simple. We had had to break the news to them about Mr. Serrano’s status, and they took it well. In fact, they had assumed he was illegal anyways.

Thanks, Mom. Glad to know you really did mean all your racist comments in the past months before we said anything.

But, count your blessings, right?

For a while, it actually seemed like my family was going to act like a family. I was cautiously surprised and happy, but I’m always cautious when it comes to them. Just like I feared, the initial glow wore off, and life went back to “normal”. Then, Mr. Serrano finally got his own apartment!

The previous tenants were something else. Let’s just say I can’t stand white trash, especially anyone who buys enough cigs and booze to keep them stocked forever, but can’t be bothered to clothe, feed, and love their kids. My family has screwed up royally, but at least they weren’t alcoholics. Thank God. The trash people finally moved out, after dragging their heels for months, making excuses, and finally actually trying to squat in the apartment. They DID have another place they could stay- this one was just “better”.

We were insanely happy to get that apartment. Mr. Serrano’s stepmother is pretty much straight out of Hansel and Gretel, and probably invented frenemies. I savored the look on her face when she saw me cleaning in the kitchen window (they’re our next door neighbors…so charming). I was especially happy in a triumphant way (probably not the best moral way either) because the charming old hag had tried to pawn the apartment off onto someone else, just to make sure she could keep her stepson paying her bills and on her couch, rather than a real bed.

This was right around the time we went to visit the lawyer, and since I got us so lost down in Chicago area that he had to pay 30.00 in toll fees (not kidding) I figured I’d stay the week over at his house and clean it up while he went to work. I needed a project to keep my mind off the stress, and re-doing a house sounded like fun.

That is where the trouble started. It didn’t matter how much I told my parents I was waiting till marriage to move in with him, and it didn’t matter that the stuff I had in my room I had saved for him, which is why it was being moved out. Every day that I came home, I was asked when I was moving out. The verbal abuse got worse, and my ever-charming ever-honest brother fell back into his habit of calling me a bitch. Mom literally ignored my existance, which I guess is better than her usual screaming (although screaming did occasionally happen).

Without even intending to, without wanting to, I ended up living in Mr. Serrano’s apartment. The first few weeks I was amazed. I woke up, and no one was going to scream at me. Nobody was yelling at me, glaring at me, or calling me names. In fact, I got a peck on the cheek and a “good morning, I love you”. Its taking a while to get rid of some of my bad habits- like skipping breakfast. I can’t eat at home. If I eat at home, I’m “stealing” from whoever Mom is favoring at the moment, which means I eat out or not at all. It took me a few days to leave my bedroom with confidence- inside I still expected to be criticized for something.

I started to feel something I haven’t felt in a long time- freedom and happiness.

I can listen to Catholic Radio, pray, listen to music, cook, go take a walk, eat, drink, be happy!!

But… at the back of my mind I kept getting nudged. This was beautiful, and wonderful…but I had said nothing to my priest. In fact, I avoided the subject entirely. I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t want to tell the truth. Then my friends started nudging me. The universe was nudging me.

In short, God was like “okay, you’ve had your fun. Now trust me and go talk to my priest!!!”

So I did, even though its instinct now for me to not trust authority (lol, and I end up Catholic. wtf) I went and talked with him. I had this whole prepared speech in my head which of course fell apart as soon as I tried to speak (complete with crying, which I hate doing in front of men. They are wayyyyy too vulnerable to it). He thought at first it was financial.

HA! Nope, actually the money saved is a bit less, since starting an apartment is expensive.

Its humiliating. Its absolutely embarrassing to explain to someone that your mother is abusive, your father doesn’t really care, and that your brother has been trained to join in. Its worse when you have to do it to someone you consider an authority, because you’ve been trained your entire life to believe that no one in authority thinks you are worth anything, and everyone believes you’re a liar. The irony is that you believe that if anyone does believe you, they’ll think that you’re less of a person for what you lived through- that you’ll be just like the people who raised you.

I didn’t even have to explain everything like I had thought I would have to. Father did ask about my dad, and his role, and whether my dad is abused himself. (I guess, in a way, he is. Mom *does* bully him a lot.) In all honesty, the actual talk was very short, and I didn’t have to come up with a litany to explain what goes on in my house. I think, perhaps, Father knew, at least a little bit. It makes me wonder how many people have known that I’ve never told. It did “help” that I’d already moved out, but I was prepared to move back in again with my “family” if the priest said otherwise.

I can’t believe it. God must have been behind this, because when I finally could move out, I tried not to. I wanted to do what He wanted me to do, or what I thought He wanted me to do…and I still ended up moved out.

Thank God. I’m never coming back. I’m free.

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Update: YAY!

Okay, so I’m off to confession but before I went I thought I’d update my blog. So, I got my purple flowers for lent, and a new heading. I’m not particularly in love with the heading (I love the sentiment, but its clashing a bit with the colors and style) so I may see if I could go ahead and make my own version. I borrowed one of the headings over at Saint Peter’s List.

In case you haven’t noticed, American liberties are being raped even more than usual lately. Between internet censorship, the new ability to declare anyone a terrorist (especially us horribly pro-life Christians), and the stupid ObamaCare law that is messing with religious liberty in ways that are more than a tad alarming, I’m quit sick of it all.

Please sign the petition, and remember, if you’re here to troll, I may just let some of your comments on so that people can laugh at you.

 

PS. I don’t want to go to Confession.

PPS. Father Hippies and Flowers is doing Confessions, and I’m not a fan of his homilies.

PPPS: Father Hippies and Flowers is surprisingly really good at Confessions, and he used to be horrible at it. God works in mysterious, hilarious ways.

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I’ve been nominated for a whatsit, now?

Cool. Apparently I got nominated for Versatile Blogger. Is that like an award for the blogger with the most interesting manifestation of ADHD? If so, awesome. Seems a bit like a chain-letter thingy, but it looks like fun.

So I was nominated by The Lame Housewife.

Yep, this is definitely a chain letter kind of thing although its a neat way to see other blogs.

Las Reglas Son:

1. Nominate 15 fellow bloggers.

2. Inform the bloggers of their nomination.

3. Share 7 random things about yourself.

4. Thank the blogger who nominated you.

5. Add the Versatile Blogger Award pic on your blog post.

My 15 Nominations are:

  1. Conversion Diary
  2. All Things Christ
  3. Free Range Kids   (I’m going to be doing a blog post about this site. Its one of my favorites!)
  4. Live Action
  5. Bound South
  1. Life After Ministry  (Definitely not a good Catholic site, but useful info anyways.)
  2. The Anchoress
  3. The Curt Jester
  4. Creative Minority Report
  5. Barefoot and Pregnant
  1. Progressive Ex-Mormon (I don’t always agree, but it makes for interesting mullings)
  2. What Does The Prayer Really Say?
  3. XKCD
  4. Saint Peter’s List
  5.  Stop HHS

I will inform (as much as I can) these other bloggers (since some of them technically aren’t blogs) later. As far as 7 random things:

  1. Tako Salad (not to be confused with Taco Salad) has got to be God’s gift to my tastebuds, by way of Japan.
  2. I wore a veil to Christmas Eve Mass. Mr. Serrano even liked it.
  3. I’m looking forward to living in a poverty and violence stricken country. Bienvenidos a México!
  4. I’m really hoping my cat isn’t just a fat, bloated, fluff ball and really hoping that she has little kitty fluffballs on the way.
  5. My “mini-shrine” has now taken over a section of wall, and a dresser, and includes a Precious Moments (Mexican rip-off) version of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. Its freaking adorable.
  6. I am seriously considering using a hair-dryer to get rid of all our yucky snow.
  7. I am in love with the home improvement shows on cable, like “Property Brothers”. Talk about inspiration.

So, gracias, Lame Housewife.

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Chastity and Martyrdom

Okay, its been a while. When Sister Allie gets churns out a blog post quicker than I do, that means I’ve REALLY neglected my blog.I’ve all but abandoned my “Catholic Culture Of The Month”. You know, because its not like Catholics are diverse or anything. Has nothing at all to do with being busy.

I have 11 months to go until I get married. 11!!! The closer it gets to the date, the more that Mr. Serrano and I struggle with chastity. Sometimes we fall into sin (get your mind out of your judgemental gutter, I’m still virgin.) One of the issues we are having is due to perception. Mr. Serrano is very new as a Catholic, and for most of his life has been able to enjoy the company of people who respect him. I never thought I would say this, but thank God for my abusive, condescending, belittling family, especially when so much of the abuse centers around my religion. Why do I say thank you? Because overcoming that horrid obstacle has made me realize that yes, indeed, I will be hated just for being a real, practicing, breathing Catholic. Mr. Serrano, on the other hand, doesn’t have that benefit.

Whereas I have scars, callouses, and scabs, Mr. Serrano has fresh, pink, baby skin when it comes to Catholicism. It hurts, a lot, when people not only do not understand what you believe, but they refuse to allow you to believe it. Everyone has freedom of choice- until you become a Catholic. Everyone will be tolerant of you- until you become a Catholic. That goes double, even triple if you are honestly working out your salvation and attempting to align yourself to Christ. I’m used to and resigned to the fact that any time I mention I’m Catholic, or bring up a Catholic issue, that it will be an excuse to allow a barrage of trashy, abusive, and snarky insults to be thrown right into my face. Mr. Serrano is only just starting to realize that. Part of me wants to protect him, the other part knows that he must go through this.

Why else did I go through Confirmation? Why else will he go through Confirmation?

The problem we are having now is this annoying as heck thing they call Machismo. Its like the Hispanic version of Chauvinism. Sometimes its good (man is the head of the household, man will provide, man will not be emasculated because of some shrill feminist psycho woman who looks like a man, man will be polite and courteous and not act like a whiny little hipster) and sometimes its an improvement on Chauvinism (man will take care to not look like a slob). But then it takes a perfectly good thing and makes it into a nasty little shadow of what it should be. This is especially true with modern chauvinism/machismo.

Now, more than ever, women are nothing more than sexual play toys that can sometimes think cute things. Thanks, liberal feminism! Now that we’re all sexually liberated, we’re no longer as seen as possible mothers, builders of society (yeah, that was another idea that got thrown out by liberal feminism) or anything all that special. We’re bodies, and we have to at all times remain F***able.  I imagine that is why pregnant women are once again being shoved away from the public eye, as if they were shameful.

Machismo has adopted the idea of “women = bigger, wetter sex toy even more than it had already done so in the past. So Mr. Serrano has to deal with all manner of dirty jokes and winks and nods about what we’re (not) doing in the bedroom.

I understand. I feel it. But at the same time, I want to scream.

He has been going along with it. Rather than come out and say “Actually, its none of your business what we do” (actually, he does say that part) or, even better “You know, I respect my future wife and future mother of my children to wait until our marriage day before I touch her, because that is what REAL MEN are supposed to do” he plays along. He neither says yes, or no, but he still plays along, and this hurts me a lot. Come on Mr. Serrano, protect us!

I’d like to have a male perspective on this. I know that pressure and competition with guys is very strong and very powerful. However, I’m left sitting, wondering why my opinion seems to matter less or is only equal to that of his friends and other men. It makes me feel ashamed, like I’m somehow less of a woman for not acting in the way society would have me do, and exposing him to ridicule. Am I just looking at this from a skewed way?

It makes me so incredibly sad, because I really want to find those ignorant fools and yell at them “You idiots! LOOK at how you treat your girlfriend, your live-in girlfriend, or your wife, or your main screw of the moment. LOOK! Is that taking care of your woman? Are you going to take care of her entirely when she is pregnant, or will you leave just like your father, or your uncle, or your grandfather? Is that honoring her? How can you honor yourself when you cannot honor a fellow sister in Christ? LOOK at Mr. Serrano! LOOK at him! I respect him, love him, and honor him. All other men that I know are nothing compared to him. I think he’s a hero! LOOK at how much he is sacrificing to be with me! How dare you belittle him! A real man knows when to keep it in his pants, rather than disrespecting himself and laying with whatever pair of legs seems most compliant. Mr. Serrano is a REAL MAN!”

Yes, I’m disappointed in Mr. Serrano that it doesn’t look like he’s standing up to the criticism, and yes I feel like I’m not being protected at this moment…but still, I’m so damn proud of him, especially when this sort of stuff doesn’t come easily. He wasn’t raised to be Catholic.

Many people say that Catholicism has odd hang-ups about sexuality. That we are obsessed with sex. I think that’s wrong. We accept sex as a fact of life (duh) and we are concerned about it, but we’re not the ones constantly preening ourselves to look “sexier”. We accept death just as we accept life, and aging is considered beautifully difficult. I believe our views on sex are the exact reason why we can look at any person, regardless of age or ability, and consider them beautiful- we haven’t made sex the be-all, end-all of existence.

I have never met a practicing Catholic who has straight up asked if I were virgin, or has inquired about my favorite sexual positions, nor has ever tried to evaluate me based on how “fu***able” I am. But I have met people who are “with the times” who do nothing but that, then imply that since I haven’t had sex I can’t possibly be in love. That Mr. Serrano can’t possibly just be with me, and not with a couple of other girls. I’ve never had a Catholic tell me “he’s going to leave you as soon as he find a real woman, not just a girl”.

Three things: I wasn’t aware that love = trying a penis on for size, I’m confident that Mr. Serrano is not a monkey, and won’t just stick his sex organ into whatever black hole that pops up, and for Feminism’s sake, I thought we were supposed to get rid of the idea that women can’t be women unless they’ve had their hymen removed by some male!!!!!!!!!

Misconceptions aside, I think a big part of the reason that we as Catholics have so many martyrs is because of our ideas on chastity. The world would have us limit our bodies, our sexes, and our procreation to nothing more than a disgusting shadow of what love is. The world’s version of love is like that Alejandro song by Lady Gaga- super catchy, very sexy, and absolutely full of mind-numbing garbage. God, on the other hand, is calling us to lift ourselves up. Jesus was right- the world hated Him before it hated us, and its only going to hate us more. As the world falls deeper into sin, the people who cling to God (whether Catholic, or Protestant, or whatever) are going to be attacked more and more.

I’m not trying to take on a crown I know is too big for my head, but Mr. Serrano and I, and other engaged couples living by Church teaching, as well as anyone who defends marriage even by just existing, are about to become martyrs, in our own little ways.

Especially when stuff like this happens:

http://www.ncregister.com/daily-news/the-parable-of-the-kosher-deli/

Please take time to sign the petition:

https://www.stophhs.com/

And please write/email your senators!

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Filed under abortion, Catholic, Mawidge, Mr. Serrano and other fun stuff, Religion

The Interview: Father Caffeinator

No, there isn’t (to my knowledge) anyone I know named Father Caffeinator. That’s just my name for the wonderful priest who did I and Mr.Serrano’s interview. If you met him, you would understand. He’s old. But his energy is WOW. Maybe incense really is Catholic crack or something, or so says Sister Allie.

However, I’d like to write  a quick letter (that hopefully I will be able to say) to Father Caffeinator.

Dear Father Caffeinator,

Thank you so much for being understanding and not judging us (while still being truly Catholic the whole way through) and for having the grace to realize we were scared of this interview. You shared a bit about your personal life, and it really helped. THANK YOU.

However, I need to clarify something. I don’t believe I was very clear about a particular question. I was afraid you’d get this idea that I’m a saint, or that I think I’m a saint. I’m not. I swear, I’m lazy, rebellious at times, and its not unheard of for me to miss Mass. Because I’m lazy. And sleepy. And the bed is realllllyyyy comfortable. Yes, that isn’t an excuse.

However, when you asked if I was a practicing Catholic, here is what I wanted to say: Father, I have a shrine in my room. Almost half the shrine is images of Mary. I do know exactly what happened at Fatima, and it scares the crap out of me reading the prophecy because I don’t think we’re done yet. I also have basically turned my cubicle at work into a shrine. I have so many medals I’m going to start giving them away. I have 4 rosaries, and struggle praying the rosary due to a) laziness, and b) ADHD. I have holy water on my mini shrine. However, there are two hanging on my rear view mirror and I’m not sure if that is okay with the Church but they are a huge comfort to me when driving. Especially since my area is crawling with demons. Yes, I just said demons. Demons are just fallen angels with a big, stupid, idiotic bone to pick with God and also happen to want to drag me down to Hell. Speaking of which, I LOVE the Saint Michael prayer after Mass. WE NEED IT BADLY. I watch EWTN all the time, or at least when the creepy children’s programs from other countries don’t come on. (Its the dubbing. The dubbing and interpretation needs to get better and less creepy.) When I get super worried, I start praying parts of the Divine Mercy prayer. I read NCR (National Catholic Register) and I get the urge to burn almost every copy of NCR (National Catholic Reporter) that I see. I have actually considered burning some books (even though I’m rather against censorship in most cases) especially the “Catholic Girl’s Guide To Sex”. Please don’t read it. Its depressing, sick, and does a great job of degrading women and teenagers into nothing more than sex toys with the ability to sometimes think. I go to Adoration a lot more than the average 20 something, I’ve written a letter to Mother Angelica (concerning LOL cats, of all things), and I’m obsessed with collecting theology books. If I could, I’d get a degree in theology. I actually take the Pope seriously, and I love both JPII and Papa Bene. I’ve actually read their stuff. And I wasn’t forced to. I go to Mass at your parish because for once I actually feel like I’m in a real Catholic church building, and because this is a very Catholic community. Not to mention I haven’t seen much (if any) of the following: holding hands during the Our Father, pointing and laughing at women in veils, guitars, liturgical craziness, girls with “shorts” I’m sure I saw sold at WalMart as underwear, gay pride buttons, etc. I also haven’t heard: adlibbing the Mass to the point where I have to sit down and think really hard about what the difference is between invalid and illicit, clapping, and anything even smelling of condescension. I’m also struggling with the difference between irreverence and funny. I feel really bad about not giving a lot during Mass, and I really really really want to do something to help out- I just don’t know where I fit in. Did I mention the veils? I like them. I’d like to wear them more often. And when I have daughters, I’d love for them to have the option of wearing them. Speaking of daughters, Mr. Serrano and I don’t want to use contraception. We’d love to learn about NFP though, especially since it’d be nice to know what all those dumb SEX IS AWESOME/LEARNING ABOUT YOUR BODY IS A PROLIFE LIE avoided telling me about my own body that I supposedly have so much control over. I went to March for Life last year, and I spent almost the entire time in the Shrine, pretty much getting high off of Jesus, Mary, the Saints, and all of the beautiful habits EVERYWHERE. I am a revert, so I’m rough on the edges. Catholic etiquette is something I fail at consistently. I have to go to Confession every week because that’s about how often I fall into mortal sin, and even if I weren’t, I’d still be going because mortal sin is remarkably easy to fall into. By the way, its embarrassing to have to admit the same, freaking, annoying mortal sin EVERY WEEK, but I’m doing it. I’m also going to Mass, and even when I was mired in mortal sin and afraid to go to Confession I STILL went to Mass. Except for when I was lazy.  And yes, I’ve definitely confessed that. I have no idea what a practicing Catholic is, for me, personally. Do you mean someone who isn’t creating Epic Catholic Fails all over the place or someone who is giving it her best shot? Hopefully you mean the second option. All I can tell you is that, yes, I’m “practicing” in the sense that I’m trying as hard as I can some days and failing entirely on others, but overall I’m as much in love with my faith as I am Mr. Serrano. I’m obsessed with all things Catholic, and the Church is the one place I’ve been able to call home.

 

Yeah…Lol now hopefully I don’t get some “progressive” (what an oxymoron there) Catholic who decides to take this little letter and run with it, claiming that I must be close to tolerant or something. Either that or a “see? Practicing Catholics are obsolete”. I think not. If I’m not a practicing Catholic yet I’ll just spend the rest of my life attempting to be one.

Booyah.

Also, it was really fun asking the question about whether or not Mr. Serrano and I are able to have babies. “You don’t know until you try!”. rofls…I think Fr. Caffeintaor just about died….

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March For Life: Best of, and some advice!

I’ll look up the link later, and link it here, but last year I was blessed and privileged to be able to go to Washington DC for the March for Life. For those who don’t know, March for Life is a memorial and a protest against Roe Vs Wade (by the by, guess who’s pro-life now?) and it is the LARGEST INVISIBLE PROTEST  DC ever sees.

Oh, and apparently with that new NDAA bill, now us pro-lifers are definitely terrorists. I say bring it on. Every time good Christians are persecuted, 10 new ones convert because of that one persecuted Christian. Suck it, Mr. Flea-bag.

Anyways, March for Life:

It was AMAZING. So here are 10 quick things I loved about the March for Life.

  1. 450,000 people and not a riot in sight. Or a news center.
  2.  The Orthodox Rabbis had the coolest Hebrew signs.
  3. We OWNED  the subway.
  4. Not only did we own the subway, we were singing. I especially joined in on “Don’t stop believing”.
  5. I-hop has never seen so many customers. Or so many Catholics. The manager was terrified one night and the next was extremely happy. I swear I saw dollar signs dancing in his eyes.
  6. Speaking of which, its a big, giant, happy Catholic reunion from all over the US and the world.
  7. I met Archbishop Dolan. I didn’t know it was him until I saw his blog. He blessed my Holy Cards. In IHOP. He also told me I talk too much. ^_^
  8. The Basilica Mass. Packed like sardines, smelling anywhere from good to very very very bad, it was a piece of heaven.
  9. Rosaries, balloons, chants, joy- everywhere.
  10. Silent No More. They were awesome.

However, there were some unfortunate circumstances. Luckily, Notre Dame showed some good humor.When “Pro-Choice” “Catholics” and other “Christians” showed up, and thought they could pray the Rosary (what, suddenly Our Lady and Our Lord and Savior are controllable by prayers, and therefore they’ll go back on that whole “thou shall not kill” thing?)  the ND group did some amazing things.

  1. Nothing like emphasizing that Jesus was Jesus in the WOMB of Mary. Its an old term for uterus, oh smart ones.
  2. Nothing like taking the ND banner and sticking it over the “protesters” of us protesters. They get coverage in the media 364 days of the year, and are treated like heroes (warped, I know). They can shut up, and stop pretending to speak for the rest of us for one measly day.

Some advice I have for people heading to DC for the March:

  1. Do NOT give homeless people money. Give food, clothing, whatever, but do NOT give out money. 99% of the time you are NOT helping by giving money.
  2. Speaking of money, things are expensive, especially food. Even BK.
  3. Be prepared to walk. And walk. And walk.
  4. If visiting memorials, keep in mind Lincoln looks A LOT closer than you would think. That wind will get you.
  5. Stay in groups of 3-5, but you don’t need to stay with the same group 24/7. My orginal group was horrible.
  6. Join in the chants. Its fun!
  7. GO TO THE MASS. SERIOUSLY. It is life changing. But get there 3-4 hours before or you will have no room to sit, stand, or breathe.
  8. Speaking of the Basilica, if you can take a  tour through there. If anything will convince you of the universality of the Catholic faith, this place will. It is MASSIVE.
  9. Talk to the nuns.
  10. Talk to the priests. The religious are awesome!

Also, 1 interesting experience.

As I was in the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, one man was leading his (Calvinist) students, and mockingly stated that “Catholics actually worship the wafers in that box” or something similar. I kid you not I was sure I heard God say “go and genuflect, right now. Right there.” …I did. Not sure what I could read into the faces of the prof and his students, but God must have been working something.

Also, one last bit of advice.

PRAY.

Especially to Saint Michael, Our Lady of Guadalupe, and St. Gianna. Don’t be afraid to show your adoration for the Blessed Sacrament!

 

 

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