What a freakin' DAY!

There was way too much going on yesterday. However, it all seemed to work out really well.

BeerFest Aftermath
Friday night was a gong-show involving the following excellent things:

• Live Music
• Beer(Fest)
• "Sniper Wolf"
• SFO
• The Purple Onion
• Partying with my sister, whom, I learned, I miss a lot more than I previously realized

Saturday morning dealt with cleaning up the wreckage and having the classic greasy-spoon breakfast. After that, I spent 5 minutes brushing the snow off of my car - it had snowed about 6 inches through the previous night and that morning. I then drove one of my friends home and then...

I went to Work!
In the words of my friend Jane, "wow, you math nerds are hardcore." As far as working on Saturdays go, yesterday was pretty good. I finished everything that needed to be finished and didn't have to spend more than 3 hours there. I also got a chance to have a laid-back conversation with my boss about all kinds of things - you know, one of those talks where the wise teacher casually bestows his knowledge upon the pupil. It was sweet.

Co-ed Bridal Shower
I went to a bridal shower for my friends. It was quite the experience, actually. I hear that those things are usually boring as can be, but it was a lot of fun. Having a chance to meet up with those two lovebirds. lol. If I'm not mistaken, I overheard the bride-to-be say, "Well, I'm not so much excited for the wedding as I am for marriage."

That's the way it's gotta be! She's got such a good head on her shoulders.

Kegger
Yes, that's right. After the shower, I headed over to a kegger and BBQ. It was a year-end deal for the university wrestling team, but because of the brutal weather, the host decided to open the invitations up to any of his friends. I walked over there from my apartment - a solid 40 minutes - and was greeted by SFO, red-faced, and somewhat damp.

The dampness was because he had a shower. He had a shower because he had just previously been in the sauna. Indeed, this house had a sauna. The sauna would periodically produce sweaty-wrestling-dudes who would then go outside and wrestle in the snow. It was crazy to watch. I had a few beers.

Up to this point, everything had happened before 7:30.

Movies!
The night before, SFO and I had told each other that we should rent Kill Bill Volume 2, because neither of us had seen it, but both of us wanted to. So, what better time to do just that than at 8:15 pm after having done the best you could at a kegger?

We made the long walk back home, cracked a couple beers, and threw the movie on. SFO's consciousness barely made it past the opening credits. I hung on through the whole movie.

I cried at the part where B meets her daughter. There I was, all the events of the day preceding, at about 10:30 at night, crying to KILL BILL?! Holy crap.

During the movie, I realized that it would be done by 11 o'clock, and with SFO passed-out, I'd need to find some other companion for further festivities.

Vagina Monologues and Fedoras
Jane is a real go-to-girl for good times†. This weekend was no exception. I called her up and she said that she was going to go out dancing soon, but currently she was over at a friend's place having wine and something something... VAGINA MONOLOGUES?

"Matt, are you going to be ok with this? I mean, this place is full of girls. You will be the only guy here."
"Yeah, I can handle myself." Damn, that's hilarious.

I grabbed my fedora and made for the door. Upon arriving at the place, I recognized that Jane was absolutely correct. I was the only guy there, but it wasn't hard to fit in. The ladies were incredibly welcoming. One of them went so far as to give me a cute nickname, "Empire." This was largely due to the fact that she was very drunk, did not catch my name and "Empire" was the word displayed on my shirt.

Sincerely, though, it was a great time*.

Following this, we headed down to the bar for drinks and dancing. After walking one of the lovely ladies home, I myself, once again, made the long stroll along the river to my apartment.

Arriving home at just after 3 am, I had had a long, satisfying, convoluted day.

I usually hate to juggle activities like that, feeling that I'm often unable to really "give'er" as I switch from one to the next, but this time everything turned out really well.

I was full of vigour and resolve.

However, this morning, I find that I am now in need of the latter.



†A friend of mine pointed out that this line makes it seem like it was a booty-call. This is not the case. I was not desirous of booty. Just company and an atmosphere conducive to dancing.
* And they all agreed that my fedora is awesome. I would not have typed this if it was untrue, nor would I have typed this if SFO hadn't hated my fedora so much. That's right SFO, if you're reading this, I typed that just to spite you!

Fedoras

I bought a fedora.

I've lost 85 years and I remember a time when men were gentle and women were ladies.


















Should probably still lock up your daughters, though.

Thinking After a Long Night at Church

Tonight was THE NIGHT.

I am speaking about none other than the Easter Vigil - the "marathon" liturgy at dusk. Attending the Vigil is among the most awe-inspiring and affirming experiences... And it happens every year!

Seeing the priests at Mass tonight was incredible - the looks on their faces show that this truly is the greatest celebration in the Church. So joyful, so relaxed... Masses at Christmastime, the priests never look this easygoing and cheery. In fact, all of the parishioners, in general, seemed much more at ease, very welcoming... almost excited! The beauty of the close-knit, hardy, and faithfully-involved section of our Parish community!

On this particular occasion I had a lot of intriguing thoughts regarding my particular vocation. Even among the kind and cheerful parishioners, I felt so alone. This was the fourth or fifth time that I'd ever been to the Vigil, the last three times of which I've gone without my family and tonight was, if I recall correctly, the first time when I did not sit with friends or a woman with whom I was romantically involved.

I felt very strongly that I needed a companion there to share the grand celebration of the Eucharist. I felt very strongly that, in the future, I will need a companion for this... And seeing all the happy couples and all the cute little kids in their baptismal dresses and suits did nothing to quell these feelings!

Well, that's enough sap for now!

Aw yeah it's all I know
This empty road
Keeps me lookin'
For a place in your heart
-- Empty Road by Matthew Good

Keeps me searchin' for that Heart of Gold
-- Heart of Gold by Neil Young

Perseverance

Is that even how you spell that? Holy smokes...

Anyway, earlier this month, my roommate - darling SFO - decided to follow through with a recommendation made by one of our friends. SFO is now in the process of getting "jacked." Or ripped, or buff or whatever.

Most people, when discussing plans to get in shape, will mention that it's best when working out becomes part of your routine. However, going from a sedentary lifestyle to one that involves strenuous physical activity at specified intervals and in regimented form is difficult. It requires dedication, discipline and perseverance. All good things.

Reflecting on the events of today, Good Friday, I have realized how the Church has always been promoting these values and methods - not for working out, but rather for the incorporation of prayer into one's daily life.

Yet, in my opinion, it is so difficult to stick to - or formulate and begin - a routine for prayer. Part of what makes it so difficult is that I seldom know where to start. Do I just open the Bible and start reading? Do I simply talk to God? Can I approach a priest to ask for advice?! Is that something people do?

Very good questions - but what are the answers? Indeed, as everyone has a different learning style, so, likely, does everyone have a different praying style*. Finding that out has been a very difficult trial in itself, so far. But it appears that everywhere I turn I find that the recommendation of making prayer into a routine, a devotion, a life†, is standard.

Further to that, the results of a life of prayer are sometimes invisible. The results are not readily seen - not even as "readily" as those hoped for through physical exercise. This is a great source of frustration for me: I give up far too easily, far too often.

It takes dedication, discipline and perseverance. Lots. Fortunately, the strength to muster these in spades is found in the Lord God... I just need to keep reminding myself of that.




*I almost typed partying style. Indeed, people have different ones-of-those, too.
†Or perhaps it is turning a life into a prayer?

Irony... and just plain haggard stuff

This morning, I was a mess. Evidence of this is found in the fact that I woke up beside my buddy Clinto, who, upon waking up himself, declared, "Oh man... Matt, give me some not head-death."

I gave him some Advil. He was appreciative, but unsatisfied with the quickness of the relief. He demanded INSTANT GRATIFICATION!

Anyway, needless to say, last night consisted of a grand ol' time involving conversations with people I haven't spoken to in months or, in some cases, years. I also discovered the beauty of Iceberg gin. Those Newfoundlanders can really throw a good gin together.

But I digress. As I was saying, I was a mess. Right now, I feel much better (full of vigour and resolve?). I just arrived home from celebrating Mass, which was a very good thing - as it always is. And, today being Palm Sunday, I was audience to the traditional reading of The Passion.

The Passion is so incredibly moving... I am ashamed by this. I am ashamed because when I hear it told, I get chills and goosebumps and I sometimes even shed tears. But I so readily forget the meaning of it. I so readily harden my heart to it and allow myself to detach myself from the implications of the greatest series of events in history, and I fall into some very bad habits.

I've done a lot of things over the last few weeks that I would be a fool to repeat. It would be closing the door on the most complete and true love that I could ever know.

But I have done that before. And all the while I have been well within reach of the most perfect reason to refrain...

Po-ih-tree

I stand waiting
for a mug of green tea

to wrap my fingers around


But my fingers are wrapped

in black leather

Reunions

The last week has seemed very long. So much has happened.

There have been some separations, some new experiences (which gave rise to anxiety, relief and then uncertainty), but also new hope.

Among the hopeful things is the possible reunion of Palestorm.

I actually can't believe it. In but a few short months, I could be in a hall or bar somewhere listening to such amazing hits as Cut the Flame, Shattered Dreams, and Spy!