Sweet, Sweet Victory

Earlier this week, I made a major step toward reclaiming my desk as a workspace. You see, ever since Halloween, my computer has been relocated from my desk because the desk was the best fit for the 1000 piece puzzle that just called out to me when I saw it at a thrift store. Not sure whether it was the best or worst 55 cents I have ever invested. Either way, one thing is for sure: God sure blessed me with a, uhh, sense of patience. Now hopefully it won't take me another three months to mount it on the wall. Anything that takes that long to put together just ain't gonna go right back in its box.

My Last Undergraduate Classes

Christian Marriage I've been waiting two or three years to take this introductory level class as the capstone of my undergraduate career. With 120 on the roster, I haven't been in a class this large since first semester of freshman year, but it's the professor that makes the class. Forget the fact that Fr. Gene's requirements are generally easier than a wide-open layup. This man gives you the opportunity to learn without the stress that usually accompanies it. Fr. Gene says that learning is one of the truly human experiences of joy, and his classes reflect this simple belief. He is an inspirational man that speaks with such candor and warmth that draws you in and forces you to reassess your own life. What more should learning be about? Religion, Violence, and Peacemaking Including such book titles as A Problem From Hell: America and the Age of Genocide, Terror in the Mind of God, and Liberating Faith, this looks to be a fascinating course. Part of the reason why I am a theology major is because of how intertwined I see the role of religion in society at large. So far, we've been reading and watching accounts of such 20th century genocides as Turkey's killing of Armenians, the Holocaust, Iraq's slaughter of the Kurds, Bosnian Serbs' mass murder of Muslims, and the Hutu elimination of Tutsis in Rwanda. Intense way to start a Tuesday and Thursday morning. The Ethics of Poverty Is poverty a tragic misfortune or a social injustice? This is another class that I took because of the professor. Fr. Hartnett, a Jesuit who spent over 20 years living and working in an impoverished community in Peru, is one of those warm and geniune people with a humble sense of compassion about him. While in Peru, he developed what he calls the "Pedagogy of Justice": experience, understanding, judgment, and action. The class is structured the same way. Right now, we're "experiencing" poverty by having guest speakers for whom poverty has been a real issue come to class and present. After that, we'll study other peoples' explanations and theories on poverty (understanding), consider what obligations the problem of poverty places on the rest of us (judgment), and finally, how it all translates to how we should live our lives (action). For the final paper, I'll be articulating my own theory of poverty and its incumbent moral obligations. Playwriting No, I didn't flunk it last semester; I just loved it and I'm taking it again. A major difference: this semester, the class is working in conjunction with a directing class, and at the end of the semester, each writer will have his or her play produced onstage. Sexy little resume builder there. Synoptic Gospels The word "synoptic" comes from two Greek words that mean "same looking" and is used to describe the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke in all their similarities. This is an upper-level theology class that will go in depth with those three Gospels. From the syllabus: "source criticism, text criticism, form criticism, and redaction criticism will be further enhanced by literary, theological, socio-political analysis and feminist approaches to interpretation." A little more technical than I usually care for, but I'm interested enough. I think.

Overnight Express

In a move reminiscent to my last minute balloting last election year, I overnighted my first application for post-graduation plans today to meet the January 24 deadline. This program is a graduate teaching program at the University of Notre Dame, where for two years, my summers would be spent studying at Notre Dame and the rest of my year would be spent teaching at any one of many Catholic grade schools or high schools around the South or Southwest. I hope they don't get in touch with Undergraduate Admissions and notice that my test scores were only good enough to get me on the waiting list there four years ago...gulp... Incidentally, I wonder how long you remain on a wait list once you are placed on it. Are they still considering admitting me? Maybe they just wanted to see how my undergraduate experience would play out before they reopen my case.

"Next" Year?

As I am a senior in college, people inevitably ask me what I plan on doing next year. These days, it seems like it's usually the first thing out of peoples' mouths when they talk to me. I understand their concern, but what the heck happened to this year? Is it a foregone conclusion that nothing significant will happen the rest of the way for me? If it is, how sad is that? I'm all for taking things one day, one week, one month at a time. For example, who's to say that something that happens to me this year won't affect what I do next year? In fact, it might already have. So, while I appreciate the concern, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay? Every day is a gift. Every day is an opportunity. Every day is a surprise. We'll get to next year...next year.

Photo of the Day: Lisa

Today, Lisa sets sail for her semester in Rome. Here, I just want to raise a glass to her and my other friends going abroad, to say safe travels and happy trails. You're embarking on an adventure of a lifetime, and I salute you and your spirit. Know you will be dearly missed.

Sláinte! Salute! Prost! Salud! A votre sante!

Rant: The Da Vinci Code

After 18 months of saying I'd read it, I finally gave in...and finished it in less than a day. Having read its prequel, Angels and Demons, I knew how Brown would interpret history to create an intellectually captivating thriller. And as I've had a pulse over the past year or two, I knew how it, umm, has touched nerves of sensitive Catholics. A few thoughts on that: Yes, the book claims that the Church has long covered up the fact that Jesus married and had children with Mary Magdalene. Okay, so maybe it was suggested that Jesus was a pioneer in the feminist movement and the Church attempted to destroy evidence of this and created a patriarcial monarchy that has suppressed the spiritual beauty of the feminine form. And wasn't there something in there about how Christ's divinity was a product of a tight fourth century vote and the Bible was put together with a political agenda? After all, it ain't the losers who get to dictate how history will be remembered. And apparently, last March the folks over at Vatican City appointed a "top cardinal" to debunk these fanciful conspiracy theories by conducting a string of public debates that began in Genoa, Italy. And if I cared about it more, I could search for specifics about how the Church has in other contexts spoken out against the book and even banned it. Bad, Dan Brown, BAD! CHILL OUT, PEOPLE. If there actually are people stupid enough to make ultimate decisions about their faith based solely on a fictional best-seller, then who really thinks these people will take the time to heed some stern papal encyclical or attend a seminar put on by some Cardinal who may have actually been around at the time of Christ? Hell, these people probably can't even read anyway and had to get the book on tape from the library. But I digress. My points: (1) Books are works of fiction, not historical records. Suspending what you believe when you're reading can actually be fun sometimes! (2) Yes, Mr. Brown. Yes, Mr. Church. Yes, Mr. Censor. I know you all probably know this (especially you, Mr. Brown, but out of fairness I had to include you in this indictment), but people do have minds of their own. Some even use them from time to time. (3) Have these censorship people even read the book? I wouldn't at all be surprised if most hadn't. (4) The controversy around The Da Vinci Code swirls around the interpretations put forth by a series of FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. Do we know what Dan Brown thinks about it all from reading the book? Absolutely not. Has anyone ever heard of creative writing? How dare Brown create characters which espouse some radical idea! (5) And speaking of radical ideas,why the hell freak out when one comes around? If nothing else, it spurs good conversation. In fact, if I were a betting man, I'd wager anything I own that at least 97% of the Christians who read or talked about the book learned something about why they hold their beliefs. With intercourse comes justification. (6) Isn't this an odd reaction from the Church over what amounts to only a pop-culture book (and an upcoming movie)? Should it even have to respond? This much attention is never paid to major agnostic intellectuals like David Hume, Bertrand Russell, or Friedrich Nietzsche, whose claims would be quite damaging to the Church if believed, but of course that's because only a small percentage of people will read their works - much less than will read The Da Vinci Code, anyway. Plus, what about all the other researchers who have published works - works with much stronger academic credentials, but much less notoriety - about the same idea? Why aren't we hearing about those and how horrible they are? It just seems a bit odd to me. It's not going to win any awards for its prose, but The Da Vinci Code is an entertaining and engaging book nonetheless. And maybe I'm going to hell, but you know what, I plan on enjoying the movie when I see it in May. Oh, where are you now, John Stuart Mill? The world needs a little bit of you.

Quote of the Day: Jim Valvano

"To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special." Jim Valvano, who coached the North Carolina State Wolfpack to an NCAA basketball title in 1983, said those words in an ESPN awards show acceptance speech on March 4th, 1993. Less than two months later, Valvano lost his fight with cancer and died. Words of inspiration that transcend the boundaries of sports. What's your average day like?

2005: A Loving Post-mortem

My year started out full of uncertainty and promise. I had the entire month of January to sit around in St. Louis and think about my upcoming trip to Ireland. I never thought I couldn't do it, but going to live in another country carries with it some tough baggage. Save for one dear friend who would join me in Ireland, I left everything and everyone, and indeed everywhere, I knew back at home. Everyone, except for one, Bonnie, who would also have her own overseas adventure that spring; I will never forget the power behind that goodbye. It was time, though. Life was calling.

Before I left, though, another piece of the Gilmore clan came together. Sarah, my first niece, came into this world a few days before liftoff. She’s sure to have quite a life, surrounded by her older brother Joe and five older male cousins. I wish her luck the first time she ever brings a boy home to a family party. But she’s still working on crawling, so first things first I suppose. It was quite a long and emotional trip from a tearful embrace at 1258 Arthur in Chicago to an exhausted entrance at my new apartment at Grove Island in Limerick, but a good nap helped to raise my spirits, and there was no looking back from there. I would be living with three of the coolest girls ever, Ellen, Holly, and Megan, and Sven, our Swedish-named, German delight. The four of us, sans Sven, were all from Loyola, so we held a distinct advantage over Sven, who was still trying to master the intricacies of the English language (and as it turned out, his own personality).

My school for the semester, Mary Immaculate College, was a division of the University of Limerick that used to be a teacher training school, so that might account for the 7:1 female to male ratio. However, “Mary I” is a school of only 2,400 students, and apparently at a small Irish school, you would never even think about dating (because “if things went bad you would see them all the time!”). I shrugged my shoulders and joined the International Student Society instead.

Through the International Student Society (which a few Irish students also joined), in addition to other Americans, I quickly became friends with people from all over Europe: France, Germany, Belgium, Switzerland, Poland, England, Sweden, Austria, and Italy. Luckily, not only did everyone speak English at varying capabilities, but they also all understood the importance of learning how to say (and perform) “cheers!” in many different languages. Even though society meetings were often held at local pubs, we had our heads on straight long enough to organize weekend trips to the Dingle Peninsula and Belfast, along with plan parties, an international food night, and other nights out around Limerick.

Outside of the International Society, I joined a couple other groups around campus. At Holly’s urging, I joined her one night at practice for an improve comedy troupe, and next thing I knew, I was part of the troupe myself. I’m not sure what happened, but it turned out to be some of the best fun I’ve had in a long time. The semester was highlighted by two performances, including one all-expenses paid trip across the country to Dublin to compete in the Irish Student Drama Awards.

I also decided to take part in the school choir, and every Tuesday night we met and practiced Händel’s Acis and Galatea. Not knowing any better, I randomly joined the tenors when asked whether I was a tenor or a bass. They looked like they could use another voice. Now, I’m hardly a plus singer, but I must say, I stuck with it the whole semester and actually had a good time. I donned a nice dinner suit for the performance at the end of the year in St. Joseph’s Church and gave it everything I had.

My classes weren’t much of a concern at Mary I. They were interesting enough, but rarely did I find myself stressed out. Highlights of my class lineup included learning a bit of the Irish language, studying Irish culture, sport, and music, and a production class where I helped create four 30 second television advertisements and a 15 minute documentary on Adapt House, a local domestic abuse shelter. The class required a lot of work, but I enjoyed the necessity of working closely with the other students in my group, most of whom were Irish.

In an attempt to experience as much of what the country has to offer, I decided to stick within Ireland until my exams were over. So, weekends were typically spent traveling around the country. I had a perfect travel partner in Ellen, and one of the most memorable weekend trips was our trip to Westport, where we took part in some of the best music we’d seen and climbed Croagh Patrick, the mountaintop from which St. Patrick is said to have cemented Ireland’s ties to Christianity.

I even had a few visitors during my four month stay in Ireland. Over spring break, my parents and I explored much of Southwest Ireland, and a few weeks later, Brother John, Cousin Martin, and Friend Ned made a pilgrimage to the homeland and Ellen and I joined their trip in progress in Galway for what would be a crazy weekend.

After my finals were over in May, I had a little over two weeks before I was coming back to the States. So, I embarked on a 14 day solo trip over to the continent. Because of a freakish chance meeting with a buddy from home in a London airport on my way to Rome, I met up with some more friends once arriving in the Eternal City. After parting ways with them, I backpacked it around Switzerland, Germany, Holland, Belgium, before meeting up with a few friends from Mary I in Paris. I cannot say enough about how amazing the two weeks were on my own. I went skydiving and hiking through the Swiss Alps. I saw the sun shine over Dachau. I spent half an hour staring at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I explored a slice of paradise in Bavaria. I was dwarfed by the grandeur of St. Peter’s Basilica. I wandered around the streets of a medieval city in Belgium. I shared beer and conversation with locals until four in the morning. I met and spent days with other backpackers. I saw what Paris looks like from the top of the Eiffel Tower at night. I figured out how to get around Europe with only a train ticket, not even a plan. I let my instincts take me where they will. I dreamed.

As you would expect, coming home to St. Louis for the summer was a mixed bag. I had been living each day abroad totally unsure of how it would play out. Days at home were much more predictable, but it was very nice to be reunited with family and friends. I was sad to leave Ireland, a place whose people I found to personify the meaning of hospitality and compassion.

My summer was spent just trying to recover, physically, emotionally, and indeed, financially, from my time in Ireland. Money was made caddying for the ninth summer in a row and working for Brother John. Back at Mary Queen of Peace, my grade school parish, I played piano in the Noon Mass Band, helped chaperone a trip to the Steubenville Youth Conference, and had an opportunity to lead an after-Mass activity for the youth group. In preparation for October’s Chicago Marathon, running was a staple of most days. I caught up with friends when they were around, but things were already starting to change, as many stayed at school to work. I caught up with Bonnie, with much to talk about and absorb from our semester abroad. I didn’t expect things to be the same, but things had definitely changed. As summer bled into fall, it slowly became clear that our paths had diverged as a couple. By the end of the summer, I was ready to get back to Loyola and begin my senior year.

Senior year started much the same way that much of the summer went – with many miles being run. Like in 2004, when I really only knew one other person doing the marathon, I wasn’t doing it alone among my friends this year. Some of them, and others I didn’t know, decided to train and do the race as well. Through group training runs, I got to know some new people, including one special woman, Lisa.

Lisa shared my dedication to the rigors of the training schedule, so the two of us ran together quite a bit. It’s amazing how much you can learn about a person when you spend early mornings running side-by-side with them. On top of our runs together, we slowly added other encounters: swimming in the pool, breakfast in the cafeteria after weekday runs, Masses, Youth for Christ meetings, and next thing I knew, a week before the marathon, we went out on our first date. After the marathon, we eventually decided to make things more official, and she turned her Claddagh ring around to show she was taken. There was no turning back at that point.

Marathon Day (October 9) was a triumph of grand proportion for me. Powered by a boisterous cheering section, I spent the first half of the race cruising along with Brother John before pulling away in the second half. Not only did I run the second half of the race slightly faster than the first, but I finished in 3:28, a full 26 minutes faster than my debut effort last year and two minutes under my “dream” goal of 3:30. And there’s nothing quite like the feeling of downtown Chicago on Marathon Day and having your parents among the 1.2 million screaming spectators.

Other highlights of the semester: a football weekend spent at Notre Dame with Lisa, a YFC (Youth for Christ) retreat, singing in the 10pm Mass choir, watching a short play I wrote being read onstage, a roommate Thanksgiving dinner, freezing my balls off (literally) in a snowy cross country race with some great friends, spending Thanksgiving and Christmas at home in St. Louis and getting to show Lisa around my hometown, another Christmas sweater party, dressing up in a full-gear Santa outfit on Christmas Eve, and my first New Year’s Eve spent in Chicago.

With the onset of 2006, I’m making my way into a momentous year. I’m scheduled to become a college graduate in May, a feat that I really hope I can stop and appreciate. Not only have I worked hard academically to get to this point, but I truly do feel fortunate to have been in a position to achieve this in the first place.

On top of graduation, I’m also set to continue my quest onward into the “real” world. I’m not sure where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing in six months, and as scary as that is, it’s also quite exciting. I feel like I’m ready to take the next step, bringing with me what I have come to learn in the past while forging ahead into my future.

2006 Resolution #1: Resurrect this blog to the lofty heights it reached while I was abroad.