I Feel Restless in My Faith and with Myself

Deep breath in. 

I've been feeling incredibly restless in my faith and with myself and I know it's due to my lack of Mass attendance and trips to the confessional. 

Exhale.

You guys know that I've been struggling with attending Mass for months. Yes, months. I get a deep desire to go to Mass and confession but something always happens. What I wrote in October still applies. I feel like the worst Catholic... a sorry, pathetic excuse of a Catholic. I felt it particularly hard a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes I wonder if I'm truly cut out to be a faithful Catholic with how often I've missed Mass. I haven't been to Mass since Candlemas, and we arrived late and I was too distracted to enjoy it. During the last full Mass I attended a month ago, I had to keep my snobby and somewhat uncharitable thoughts to myself. 

If you're wondering what happened today: light-headedness, as is the most common reason for my failure to attend Mass. I didn't even pick Mom up from work today and that only happens when I get so lightheaded that I'm afraid of getting into a potential accident. "Well, that's a valid excuse," you may be saying, but it doesn't take away how uneasy I feel. 

The longer I go without attending Mass or confessing my sins, the more restless I get. I feel absolutely horrid as I type this out. I've noticed how bad things get for me the longer I go without both Mass and confession. First, I become less charitable and more grumpy. Then it becomes easier to do the smallest (and, oftentimes, dumbest) venial sins. Then my patience runs out easier. Things built up. My temper gets worse. I literally cannot focus on anything, especially in prayer. I can't focus on my prayers; they feel robotic and empty. After about the second or third week, I'm an edgy mess. Again, the desire is there but then fear sets in.

Fear is what's at the root of my missing Mass. Fear of getting into a car accident because I'm not as mentally focused as I should be. Fear of getting more sick or not being able to get the medical help I need (this is anxiety talking when I have palpitations like I did earlier today). Fear of physical pain. Fear of fainting, especially when I've felt physically weak like I did two weeks ago. Fear of this... fear of that...

I know that fear is not from God. I know that the evil one uses fear. I want to have the courage to push beyond that fear, but I can't. I don't know what stops me. Oh, wait... yes, I do: more fear. Sometimes, when I think I have the courage to actually go through with it -- to get in my car and drive to Mass -- I begin to second-guess my decision. The "what ifs" begin to roll around in my mind. What if I should just stay home and not risk myself and my health? What if I'm just making up excuses for myself because I don't want to go to Mass? (That last one is one that popped up in my mind). 

I've cried more than once out of my inability to attend Mass. In fact, I'm trying to fight that lump in my throat that is threatened to form while I type this post out. I know I need to talk to a priest about this problem, especially since I feel utterly overwhelmed at this point. I don't like how I feel... and when I say "how I feel" I mean how I act. I don't like living in fear. I don't like losing my temper more easily as time goes by. This isn't who I usually am. I've been (jokingly) referred to as a gal with patience to spare. I don't get angry for more than a couple of minutes. I can let things slide... except I can't. Not these days; not since my lack of Mass attendance began to break personal records.

I humbly ask for your prayers. Beyond praying and talking to a priest, I don't know what else to do. I feel helpless. I feel restless. I feel scared. I don't want to put my soul in jeopardy if I can do something about it. 

Okay... here come the tears. That's okay. Tears only remind me that I care. I care about my soul. I care about my relationship with God. Once my time here on earth is done, I want to spend eternity with Him. I can't do that if I don't feel grounded in my faith; if I keep missing Mass.

Deep breath in. 

Exhale. 

God willing, things will work out. I just need help. And, with this idea, I'm going to stop writing and email one of my favorite local priests to see if I can set up a meeting to talk to him or see if he can give me advice as to what I can do in the meantime (while I wait for my next trip to the confessional and Mass).

I'm sorry to end this blog on such a downer but this is real life. This is -- and has been -- my biggest struggle. Nobody said the journey of this Catholic nerd writer was going to be easy or even pretty.

Alright, email to the priest and then I'll try to catch a Mass on EWTN before my evening/nighttime prayers.

I hope y'all have a lovely weekend!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :)

A Welcomed Distraction

Yesterday I went on an outing/field trip with a group of like-minded young Catholics. (side note: when I say "young" I mean 18-36 year-olds.) It was the first time I've ever been able to make it to such an outing since my plans to be involved with youth ministry at my current parish never came to fruition no matter what I did or how hard I tried. I was very excited about this meet-up because I knew that I could geek out on Catholic things and I wouldn't have anyone give me a funny look over it.

Before I go on about why this outing was just what I needed, I want to share what happened the day before. On Friday I had received some unpleasant health news. My red blood count had lowered. My white blood count had completely tanked, most likely due to the stress I've been under as well as the low folate level. Speaking of that, my folate level has gotten worse. My calcium and iron levels are the same, though on the low side. I've gained back 2 of the 6 pounds I'd lost due to the stress from school and health issues. My kidneys are in good shape now and my platelets have gone up as well so not all was bad. Still, I was upset at how low the other levels were. I talked to some friends that night and got my thoughts sorted out before I was able to feel okay about my situation. I know that my mother's prayers also helped; she told me she prayed for me after she saw how sad I'd gotten over my blood work results. I briefly considered backing out on the outing for Saturday but I'm glad I didn't because it helped me forget about my problems for a couple of hours.

I admit that I was nervous as I drove to our meeting place (the San Fernando Mission) because I knew no one in the group. I hadn't known that this group even existed until earlier this month because I'm not an active member of this particular parish. After I heard about it and the events they planned, I was interested and decided to become a member. My heart raced and it actually got up to about 124 (according to my FitBit) at one point -- most likely from the nerves -- while I was with the group. Thankfully everyone was great and after some initial awkwardness, I was able to relax and talk to them as I would with friends. As the time passed by and I got more comfortable with them, my heart rate went down a bit and I was able to enjoy the outing.

We walked around the Mission as a group of 6 -- which later became a group of 9 -- with the group often splitting into smaller groups. The weather was perfect and the group members were so lovely and welcoming, making it a thoroughly enjoyable day. We visited the Bob Hope Garden (where Bob Hope and his wife, Dolores, are buried). A couple of us loved seeing the old (think 1500s-1700s) books. I was actually excited to have other people excited to see these books besides myself. lol. We saw two quinceañeras (sweet 15) arrive at the main chapel and I was glad to share my knowledge of them since I was the only Hispanic in the group (until the priest that accompanied the group arrived).

After we walked around, exploring the Mission, the priest who was meeting up with us arrived. We were supposed to have the Latin Mass celebrated at a smaller chapel on the grounds (one I've never been to) but that ended up being quashed (long story) so instead we all prayed the Rosary together. At that point, the group got a little bigger. Those who didn't have Rosary beads with them were able to borrow them from others. All of us gals wore our chapel veils. Everyone knelt, though, admittedly, I didn't last too long before I had to sit because I've been known to feel faint if I kneel for a long period of time when I'm not 100% healthy and I didn't want to ruin anyone's time at the Mission. It was a beautiful and peaceful experience. Before the priest left and the group broke up for the day, we prayed the Angelus which was a first for me; I've never prayed the Angelus before.

I must've looked happy after the outing because my mom had a huge grin and agreed to go to the Latin Mass at the parish where the young adult group is based. Since Mom and I like our Masses solemn, it makes sense for us to go to the Latin Mass. Not only that, I was thinking that maybe this has been in God's plans for us for a while now.

We've had a couple of incidents at our current parish -- with both parishioners and a priest -- that have made us feel either unwelcome, unnerved, or like it's no longer the right fit for us. Over the past year (almost to the day), things have been unraveling and both Mom and I have agreed that it's time for us to move on to a different parish. Our current parish has been our "home" for nearly 4 and a half years. We have wonderful memories but I feel like God may be pointing us elsewhere. We're going to try the new parish and see if it's the right fit for us. We shall see. :)

Anyway, this is my contribution for the week. I've been wanting to write more lately (and I have something to share that has been discussed on the Facebook Page for this blog) but time management has not been my strong suit this past week. I only have time to write this today -- Sunday -- because I take my "day of rest" seriously. Otherwise, I would be studying and/or doing homework right now. So much homework. Hopefully, things will slow down after this week's next round of exams and I can begin to write more often. Fingers crossed.

To those who've continued to pray for me, thank you! I've felt more at peace lately and I know it's been your prayers that have helped. My health may not be at 100% (and has gotten slightly worse since last month) but I know that between your prayers, my own efforts, and God's will, something good will come out of all of this. :D

I hope y'all had a lovely weekend!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

Priest Dreams and Screenplays

I'm taking a break from working on my third novel (which I'm really excited about) but still want to write so...  hello, new blog post. ;)

Two days ago I had an intense dream which I will now share because apparently some people like to read about my crazy dreams. I haven't really shared one in a while but I still have awesome saint dreams every once in a while. No saints in this dream but it did involve clergy and it took place in a church. Having had this dream the night/morning of my baptism anniversary, I got a kick out of it... and also wanted to talk to a priest as soon as I woke up. lol.

It started in a church which I believe was supposed to be the cathedral in downtown L.A.... but it wasn't the current cathedral. It actually looked like the original cathedral, St. Vibiana's Cathedral (you can see a picture of it here). My mom and I had gone to the noon-time Mass. Archbishop Gomez, Bishop-elects Barron, Brennan (who will be a part of my neck of the L.A. woods), and O'Connell were there with other priests. Yes, there are many priests concelebrating the Mass... and, no, I'm not sure why.

As Abp. Gomez began consecrating the host, with the rest of the clergy around the altar, a pack of wolves entered the side door, snarling at the laity in the pews. Most of us (myself included) began inching closer to the center of the aisles, prepared to run... but some people stayed behind, paralyzed by fear. One of the person who couldn't move was my mother. As much as I tried to get her to move, she wouldn't, so I worked up as much courage as I could and began to slowly walk back to where she was at.

Abp. Gomez and the other priests began making a human barrier around the altar, trying to protect it; a few priests stepping down and starting to close off any access to where the laity had run off. The wolves backed off, angry at them, but still tried to find a way around them. Still having my mother on my mind, I took my tote bag (yes, I usually use a tote bag) and began swinging it around (a total "come at me, bro" moment), in preparation for the wolves... but they never came. Since they were too busy trying to find ways through the priest -- the altar and laity being what they sought -- I figured I stepped up and linked my arm with a priest's in an attempt to prevent the wolves from advancing.

Slowly, the wolves began to back away and out of the church... except for one, who was really angry. Abp. Gomez and the three new bishop-elects stepped closed to it and it began to slither around like a snake. At that point, it was the only wolf still there. It was eventually surrounded by all four as Abp. Gomez threw holy water on it, never looking away from it. The wolf began to evaporate... though it left its skin behind; just the insides of the wolf had evaporated. At some point I had also gotten myself a small vial of holy water to keep in case I saw wolves in the future.

I woke up freaked out a bit. I also wanted to go to confession... which makes sense since I didn't go this past weekend. It took some time for me to realize that it was a dream and that I wasn't in immediate danger. In case you're wondering, no, the symbolism wasn't lost on me... nor the fact that it happened on the day of my 30th baptismal anniversary.

Dreams like this -- while I try not to read into them -- just remind me that my imagination is something else. Once (and if I had the time, I would go back and search it in the early blog posts) a priest told me that my dreams were better than the movies... which then reminded me of something that my spiritual director said to me last month. He asked if I had considered working in the entertainment industry to help the efforts to, basically, produce good content as opposed to Magic Mike movies (yes, we used this movie as an example in our chat).

My school, JP Catholic, has a great filmmaking program. I had a brief flirtation with "the biz" in my teens (long story short: I walked away from signing a contract with an agency when I was 20, a year before my reversion). My mind definitely works in a way that, as I write the story, I can envision as if it were a film. I have friends who are actors and/or screenwriters (hard to not to have at least one acquaintance in the industry when you live in L.A.)... yet I'm fairly certain that it's not a path I'd like to explore again. Still, it's something to think about.

Anyway, this was all just something to share because I wanted to keep writing and, hey, why not? lol.

Alright, I've spent enough time away from working on the novel. I really want to get at least 5000 words written for the day before I call it a night so this is it from me for now.

I hope y'all have a great rest of the work week. :D

As always, thanks for reading and God bless. :D

What I Learned Wednesday #25: Not a Valentine's Grinch Edition

First What I Learned Wednesday post of the year. Let's go!

1.) I'd like to clear something up regarding my Valentine's Day tweet last night: I am not a Valentine's Day Grinch. I am not bitter that I'm currently single. I'm actually enjoying my singlehood whilst future fella arrives. I love love. I am all for falling in love. I even helped organized a card exchange between single girl friends so that no one would feel bad last year. I don't like it being called "Singles Awareness Day." At the same time, I am not a fan of how commercialized the day is. I've been saying this since 2008 when I actually had a fella. That blog post was written by a 22 year-old me (yes, I'm that old, lol)... and my thoughts have not changed since. Things seem to cost more than usual for this day. Both guys and gals (but, let's be honest, more so guys than gals) get pressured into making a huge romantic gesture on the day. That doesn't sound romantic to me; it sounds like it's rather forced. Sure, I like receiving flowers as much as the next girl but I'd personally prefer a guy send/give them to me because they felt like it and not because it was expected of them. I have other thoughts on the day which I've written about it as recent as last year.

And I can tie this to Catholicism easily: Valentine's Day reminds me of the efforts. St. Valentine did -- risking death -- to marry couples when it was illegal to do so. St. Valentine reminds me of love... which reminds me of the constant love I feel from both God and Mama Mary. So the day is spent (regardless of whether I have a significant other or not) focused on the love I receive from them as well as my friends and family. See? No Grinch-ing from me; I just look at things differently. You have all learned something new (instead of the other way around). Now that that's been settled, can y'all start being nice to me again? I'd appreciate it. lol.

2.) This may get a huge eye-roll for those of you who are more savvy about all things Catholic but I'm still learning so this made me really excited a couple of weeks ago. As I was praying the Luminous Mysteries in front of the tabernacle, I realized that they (the mysteries) represented the Sacraments we Catholics receive. First mystery: Baptism. Second: Marriage. Third: Reconciliation. Fourth: Confirmation. Fifth: Communion. I know; there's 7 Sacraments so I'm missing Holy Orders and Anointing of the Sick. I was so excited at this revelation (which I figured out on my own, with the help of the Holy Spirit, I'm sure) that I came home and Googled it just to make sure. Sure enough, I had been right. And now every Thursday I can pray the Rosary and focus on the significance of each other mysteries in a whole new way. For the record, I could be wrong about what each mystery represents; it's what I figured out. Someone correct me if one or more is wrong.

3.) As a future speech therapist (who will also be learning a bit of audiology), I loved hearing the news that a priest invented a confessional tool for the deaf! I've been saving this article as well, because it was something that I learned since the last WILW post and I thought it was pretty darn important. I've seen a sign language interpreter in Mass at only one parish in L.A. and it's always made me wonder if other deaf Catholics have the same assistance elsewhere around the world. Mass is such a beautiful thing that it would be a shame for others to miss it because of disabilities and/or conditions. This is coming from someone who would, once upon a time, go months without attending a single Mass due to her anxiety order.

And that's all. Short(-ish) and sweet. I have a ton of things to do so... I should probably go do them now. lol.

I hope you all have a great rest of week. And someone please poke me if I take more than 2-3 days to publish a new blog post. I definitely have the time to do so these days. :)

Seven Priests Cause Abortion Mill To Close

I wasn't going to post anything today since I have a lot of work to do but I couldn't not share this powerful video. This was originally found on tumblr. (side note: Click on the link in case the video can't be played on this blog or if you have a tumblr and want to reblog it yourself.) I have to admit, I cried as I watched this video because it hurts to know that babies are being killed at places like this.



"Seven Priests Cause Abortion Mill To Close!

Last year seven Catholic Priests gathered around the Rockford abortion mill and prayed prayers of exorcism. On that day two mothers choose life; the number of abortions fell by two thirds, and the abortion mill landlord was so unsettled that he stayed outside his abortion mill while the Priests were praying.

This year the powers that be inside the mill were taking no chances. Instead of trying to remain open in the face of such spiritual power, they found it easier to close their doors for the day. Thanks be to God because of these seven Priests, the Poor Clare Nuns who in the Corpus Christi Monastery in Rockford where uniting their prayers with the Priests, and every Christian who prayed this morning, not one child was killed in Rockford today.

A small group of abortion supporters showed up, thinking the mill would be open. When they saw seven Priests and over forty pro-lifers deep in prayer and the abortion mill closed, the pro-aborts appeared even more dazed and confused than usual.

The abortion mill landlord Wayne Webster, who seems to have a pathological hatred for Catholic Priests and has a history of skulking away from the abortion mill grounds when Priests are praying prayers of exorcism outside his killing center, was nowhere to be seen. In his absence he did leave some quite vulgar signs in his abortion mill windows attacking Priests.

On this day in Rockford, the presence of Christ through His Priests and His people could be tangibly be felt and experienced outside the building where over 60,000 human beings have been murdered.

On this day in Rockford ,Satan fled; Christians stood united in faith and love, and no children had to face a brutal, vicious death inside the Rockford abortion mill."

The unborn can't speak for themselves but I give major props to those who stand outside abortion mills and pray. If you can't make it out to one of the many 40 Days for Life scheduled dates, don't think you can't do anything. Pray for those who stand outside and receive abuse from pro-abortion folks.

Last year, there were only three of us outside a Planned Parenthood in the San Fernando Valley part of Los Angeles and one man spewed more hatred, despite us not doing anything but praying and talking amongst each other, than I could've imagined. Just because we were there. So, please pray for those the unborn, their mothers, and those who bravely stand up for those who need protection.

Emmy, Defender of the Pope and Priests?

This weekend I got a chance to really talk to my confessor about the trouble I've been having at school. Forget my Thesis (which is done!). Forget finals. Forget the insane hour to three hour (each way!) trip I have to take to get to and from campus. It's a little more serious than that.

Remember that music professor I wrote about a few weeks ago? The one who seemingly has it out for me? Well, she was being okay for a while but it's started up again... and I have a very strong feeling that she will try to dock my grade as much as she can simply because she does not like me. She's been taking out whatever is going on with her on myself and another classmate. I will be talking to someone this week in case this happens. I'm covering all my bases. I SHOULD be graded on the work I've done in class and not on other stuff. And, yes, I admit that I have missed many lectures but when she's the cause of the horrific panic attacks that cause me to miss her class... well... you get it. But this isn't even the worse thing I've encountered.

Those of you who've read this blog long enough know about my struggles at my CINO college. Things have been more bearable this school year because I've only had two Religious Studies courses. Still, it's as bad in other non-Religious Studies classes... and this is what I told my confessor. I don't think it's very productive venting about situations and people but I've learned the hard way that bottling up emotions is bad. That is actually a huge cause for my anxiety. I don't "talk smack" about people but I do make it known that I am not happy with the way certain people (like my professors) treat me and how they speak out against the Church. I told him just what I've heard during lectures. "The Pope is a super rat with red shoes." Priests are dragged through the mud. "Women should be priest(esses) if they want." "The Church is patriarchal and want to oppress women." "Contraception is the best thing that happened to women." These are just some examples, it gets worse but I won't have time to get into them all just now.

As I was telling my confessor this, he looked surprised and unhappy. (side note: he's my new confessor since Fr. Alexander passed away last month.) I only gave me a sample of what I've heard and how I feel bad about venting about my professors (especially because I've heard it mostly from the nuns who are the professors)... but I have to get my frustration out by speaking about it. I am NOT okay with it. It's one thing to take whatever the professors are feeling out on me (I am sensitive and I may cry but I can always offer it up)... it's a whole different thing to take it out on Pope Benedict XVI, clergy, and the Church. My confessor told me one simple thing that made a bigger impact on me than he might've intended: defend him, other priests, and the Pope against these kinds of attacks.

I've been praying and asking God to show me what do with my life after graduation. After doing all the research for my Thesis about our generation (Generation Y), religious beliefs amongst our generation, and the Church, I felt like I was heading in the right direction in terms of what I wanted to do. It wasn't until I heard my confessor tell me to defend them that it all clicked for me. I'm going to do my darnest to try to get the word out to this generation (as well as the younger generations) that we have to do what we can to defend the Church and her members.

By that I don't mean fighting for the sake of fighting; no violence, please. I am talking about educating ourselves about the true teachings of the Church (not what the mass media and others may ignorantly inform us) so that we are prepared to go against what is thrown our way. After reading all those Vatican documents and doing all that research, I have a new outlook on things and I deeper love and appreciation for the Church and the Pope. Alicia, Trista, and I have even formed our own little Pope fan club. ;)

We have such a wonderful Pope, priests, and nuns (we cannot forget about religious sisters :D) that bring us closer to God and to knowing Him better with our hearts... yet they are constantly attacked. Why not show our appreciation for all that they do by doing what we can to help them? If you're not feeling up to going toe-to-toe with someone, pray for them. As my mom has reminded me since I was a little girl, prayers and faith can move mountains. We can pray for a change of heart and that person's conversion.

From this day on, I'd like to be known as Emmy, defender of not only God, the Blessed Virgin Mary, Saints, and the unborn but of the Pope and Priests as well. It's a long title but it's one that is now etched into my heart. With only 3 weeks (exactly) until my graduation ceremony, I am going to do what I can to leave my mark at that school... to show them that I came out of it with my faith stronger and more intact than when I started. Call that an epic win for God and a fail for those who tried to keep me away from Him.

Anyway, I'm off to finish some of my last assignments as an undergrad student. No, it hasn't hit me just yet. Give me another week (when there is only one week of classes and finals week left) for it to hit home that I'm done. ;)

I hope you all had a blessed weekend (I LOVE Divine Mercy Sunday though I was sadly too sick to attend Mass yesterday) and have a great week. :D

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless! :D

I am a Childless Mother.

Yes, you read the title correctly: I am a childless mother. How is it possible? Well, insight from both a priest I met (for the first time) over the weekend AND from someone who knows me very well have helped me figure it out. Now, I have to decide whether it's a good thing or not, and where I have to draw the line.

If you've read my blog for a while, you know that I love to take care of my family. I took care of my father for years up until he passed away this summer. I've continued taking care of my mother who is still in denial of my father's passing... and refuses to get help for her denial. Recently, I've had several people tell me that the "spark" is gone from my eyes... that there is only sadness, even when I try to be optimistic. Both the priest (who's name I don't remember; he's new to the nearby parish) and the person who knows me well pointed out something to me: I am a parent to my own parents. Not only that, but I've neglected to take care of myself. As the priest told me, after we got down to everything, I have been the parent in my family since I was a child. I've taken care of them whenever they've been ill or unable to take care of themselves or myself. In fact, I learned how to cook/feed myself (at age 4-5) and wash the dishes by hand (at age 6-7) because they were unable to help me with those specific things when they needed to be done. That's all I've ever known... doing things for them that they couldn't. Though I haven't been able to financially take care of them (though I have helped with that as well), I've taken care of them every other way... including emotionally. I am not complaining that I've lived my life this way; nothing makes me happier than being able to help others. The fact that I've been able to do everything I could for my parents makes me ecstatic.

I don't mind giving up things for others' benefit. It's in my very nature take care of others - ask my friends, they'll say I'm very "mothering" - otherwise I won't be happy. While that is true, I do admit that I've been given up a lot that I do, sometimes, wish I could've done. I wish that I could've gone straight to college after high school. If I had done that, I would've gotten my B.A. years ago. I wish I could've gone to university in England, as was the original plan a couple of years ago. Those are my two biggest "regrets" though I honestly don't regret giving them up. By my staying at home for as long as I have, I've been able to help out my parents with things they couldn't have done otherwise.

I'm not saying that I'm unselfish. Oh, no. Like everyone else, I do have my selfish moments when I don't want to do something so I don't... or moments where I just want what I want and I don't want anyone saying anything about my decision to do it. No one's that perfectly unselfish, especially not me.

Recently, I've been given the opportunity to study, and possibly work, in a different country (though I will keep details under wraps for now). I don't really have anything holding me back... except my mother. My mother is such a wonderful, giving person that many people take advantage of her. I have to put my foot down and/or deal with it because she's too nice and can't bring herself to do it. I know she's able to take of herself, but I still feel a sort of responsibility for her that it makes me really think about whether I will be leaving Los Angeles (and the U.S.) or not. It's my selfish wants (and, ultimately, it would good for me, not only career wise but it will make me even more autonomous) vs my not too selfish wants of taking care of my mother (who often puts me on a guilt trip when I mention leaving). As I said, I really don't mind giving up leaving this heck hole that is known as Los Angeles to take care of mother... but is it time to leave the nest and not worry about how she'll do by herself?

The priest advised me to go. He said that I should take care of myself and do something for myself for once. Mom agreed... but not before giving me another guilt trip about leaving her by herself... with no family around... living by herself... she "can't live" by herself. *sighs* Do I do something for myself and go to this new country and university or do I continue being a "mother" to my mother? Where am I going to draw the line to end this cycle? This is going to give me a headache until I make my decision... and it's not going to be pretty because I'm the most indecisive person you'll meet. *sighs* lol.

Sorry for semi-venting here. I normally don't do this but I needed it out of my system. Maybe some of y'all have some advice that would be helpful in my decision. Anything from the Bible that I've overlooked that will help me with this? Seriously, I'll take good advice right about now. :)

Alright, this nerd needs to stop blogging and go back to the wonderful world of math. And, yes, that was written with sarcasm on my mind. lol.

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :)

L.A. is Burning - Part Deux; When in Doubt, Ask a Priest.

There is another fire burning in the northern part of the Los Angeles County. Not good, at all. We can smell the smoke from where we live, but it's not so close that we can see the smoke like we did during the last fires. I'm going to pray that it doesn't get out of control like the others did last month. Of course, it HAD to be on a day when the temperatures would go over 90 degrees. Yes, you read that right... it will be over 90 degrees Fahrenheit today. Oy.

Well, I have my school dilemma figured out thanks to Fr. Stan. He did give me the disclaimer that if it didn't work out for me, it wasn't his fault, but of course I knew that. I did figure out what schools I would applying to and I am VERY happy with my decisions. It's all onward and upward from now one. :D

My motto is that when you're in doubt about something, always ask a priest's advice. I asked Fr. Leo's advice a few months ago about something and he definitely helped me and actually helped me on the path to trying to fight my battle with anxiety, while not letting it keep from going to Mass. Now, Fr. Stan has totally enlightened me. He quote Pope John Paul II and I totally saw my school dilemma from a new perspective. I love that when can go to them and ask for advice. :D

Alright, I've had a really BAD week, anxiety-wise. I honestly thought they would have to take me to the hospital twice because of horrible I felt. I'm so much better now, thank goodness! It was just three really intense days. Anyway, because of it I'm WAY behind on my homework -- which is all past due for all classes. So I'm going to do that now and then email them to the professors. :D

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D

I Can Finally Breathe!; Patron Saints; Bon Voyage... But Where To?

I finally feel like I can breathe after weeks of being swamped with so much homework. Whoo!! :D The heaviest parts were finished yesterday. I have to write myself a note not to overload myself like this again. I haven't had time to go get my hair cut. I haven't gone out with my friends in ages. I'm very much a homebody. I mean, I was a homebody before but now I can't even go out if I wanted to. Well, no, I CAN go out but I choose not to because that will only lead to more stress and who wants that? I'm perfectly content staying at home, studying, because I know I will get killer grades at the end of the semester if I keep it up. :) One of my courses, the dreaded Oceanography class, ends in 3 weeks (wow, so fast!) and then I have 3 classes for the remainder of the semester. Say it with me... WHOOOOOO!!! lol. I truly hope that those of you in school are doing well so far. :D

Of course, I owe a lot of my calm nerves to the patron saints of students (St. Joseph of Cupertino and St. Thomas Aquinas) and of course, St. Dymphna (patroness of anxiety). I'm happy to say that the anxiety has been practically gone in the past couple of weeks, perhaps last 2 months. I asked a friend of mine if it was possible to have too many patron saints, and he didn't know so... hmm. I'm still wondering. No one's been able to give me a straight answer yet. I can't pick a patron saint. I have three main saints: St. Jude Thaddeus, St. Dymphna, and Our Blessed Mother. How can I pick when they've done so much for me? I should probably ask one of the priests -- the priest I get -- when I go sometime soon. I still have to go and talk to one of them. I have a lot on my mind. I have so many questions and am in dire need of the kind of advice I think a priest would answer the best. Is it weird that I love having conversations with priests? Seriously, if I could on a daily basis, I would!

Oh... A few months ago, my mother surprised me by saying that as soon as my anxiety had simmered down and as soon as I could prove that I can handle traveling, she'd be willing to pay for a vacation anywhere I'd like to go. I've already gone out of the country but not too far away from home. Everyone's pretty much banking (slang word for: betting on a sure deal) on me going to England. Two years ago, England felt more like my home than my actual home here in California. I have so many wonderful memories from that time in my life. I became addicted to tea during that time; an addiction I still have. lol. I have friends in London and up in Manchester so I wouldn't be by myself while in England. Maybe I'll skip the trip and save up the money for something else in the future. With the way the economy is going, it might be wiser to just save up. We'll see.

Alright, I am going to go shut my eyes for a little while because my eyes hurt and they've gotten worse on a daily basis. I think I need new prescription for my glasses/contacts because I feel better without them on... even though I'm pretty much as blind as a bat without them. lol. I think a prayer to St. Lucy is in order.

Oh, and before I go... I still have plans on writing about St. Therese of Lisieux AND about the golden crucifix dream but I am going to wait until (hopefully) tomorrow because I want to add more to it. :D

I'm going to leave y'all with a video I came across youtube of my favorite scene of "The Bells of St. Mary's". Enjoy! As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D


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Born to Be Catholic?

Last night, mom and I were watching a show about angels which lead to an interesting conversation. Mom said that I seemed to have been born to be a devoted, and very religious, Catholic. She said that when I was a baby and used to smile and laugh in my sleep, she used to say to my dad "Look, she's talking to her little (guardian) angel." Apparently, I would be sound asleep and all of a sudden I would burst into laughter... and I would stay asleep. So, whenever that would happen my mom would say I was talking to an angel. So, when I was baptized at 3 months old, I soaked the poor priest with the water... while giggling my little baby tush off. lol. I seemed to enjoy being at church... and soaking the priest more. lol. Yeah, I was a mischievous baby, but so was my brother Moises when he was a baby. We did the exact same thing -- getting a priest wet while getting baptized -- at the same church, 14 years apart. Now, I should mention that my brother died when he was a baby over a decade before I was born. When I got to be around 4 years old, I used to go up to the windowsill, look up at the sky, crying, and say "Moises, YOUR mom is being mean to me." Whenever I got lectured I would look up at the sky and complain to my brother. Why? Because he's in heaven, duh. lol. I knew Moises had died completely innocent thus sending his soul straight to heaven. I was also very interested in what was inside the San Fernando Mission (which I got to finally visit twice - picture special one, two - when I was older) and about saints as a child. I remember being VERY interested in St. Francis of Assisi when I was about 7 years old without anyone, except the priest in Mass, mentioning him to me. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd immediately say that I wanted to be a nun. A Carmelite, to be exact. I was only 5-7 years old yet that was my dream "job." Oh, and I also had a Virgin Mary nightlight growing up because I used to be afraid of the dark.

Those are just example of things I would do when I was younger. According to my mom, I have always been very Catholic (except for those lost years in my teens) since my birth. I've always felt close to the Church. I even got confirmed early when I was taken to Mexico so I didn't have to wait until I was in my mid-late teens (though I wish they would've let me do it in my teens; that's another story). And, since I've returned to my "roots", I've tried to get my parents back to Mass and eventually completely back to the Church. I even get upset with my father when he refuses to take me to confession or Mass (I can't drive at the moment because of my anxiety). I will tear up (unintentionally, I REALLY love going to Mass and get very sad when I can't go) until he agrees. Actually, he's gotten better about that. He knows what time I usually like to go to Mass so he doesn't complain anymore. When I told my parents I would be majoring in Religious Studies, or that I wanted to attend a Catholic college/university, they weren't surprised. When I said I wanted to go talk to a priest, just to talk about certain things, they were a little puzzled but sort of understood.

So, all of this got me wondering... are any of us born to be Catholic? Do any of you think that some of us (who are cradle Catholics) were just born with a love the Church without getting encouraged to do so? I'm still thinking about this so I honestly don't have an answer. If any of you have any comments, please don't hesitate to leave 'em. I'm very curious to hear what others think. And, yes, you can e-mail me in case you don't want your comments going up on the blog. :D I look forward to hearing feedback. :D

Alright, well, I still have some things to do (including watching 2 saint movies, whoo!) so I should go. Hope everyone had a great weekend!

Thanks for reading and God Bless. :D
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Birthday Blessings.

Lucky for you, I have date night coming up in like half an hour so I have to keep my blog short tonight. Go ahead and celebrate. lol.

I went to Mass today feeling very sick (I was sick since last night -- probably something I ate) and there were times when I thought I wouldn't make it but I stuck it out. WHOO! That was a great Mass. I really enjoyed it. :D After Mass, Fr. James (who says that I'm too hard on myself sometimes) blessed me because my birthday is this week, before the next Sunday Mass. He put his hands on my head and blessed me, which was awesome... even when he moved my head around! lol. Then he asked how long I was turning and I told him and he said "OH! GOOD YEAR!" The way he said it was funny. I love Fr. James, he's one of my favorite priests. :D I also got to see Fr. Leo, my other favorite priest, whom I greeted (he was on his way to say the Spanish Mass which starts after the English Mass). I'm just happy I got a blessing and hope that it will give a good kick start to my next year. :D

Alright, well, like I said... this blog is short. I have to go prepare myself for war. Well, okay, a "war" in which I try to get my way on which movie we're watching. lol. As always, thanks for reading and God Bless.

P.S. Thank goodness for my ring finger being occupied or else I would've had an AWKWARD situation during Mass this morning/afternoon. Seriously, ring on ring finger means forget it buddy! lol.
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Futbol, Parrot Pranks Nuns, Saint Dream, and Vocation.

Yesterday I watched two futbol (football/soccer) games -- Celtic v. Barcelona in a Champions League match during the morning; L.A. Galaxy vs. Gamba Osaka (from Japan) at night. Both teams I was rooting for (Celtic and Galaxy) didn't win by ONE goal. Ugh. Bummer. Celtic still have a chance to go further in the CL but Galaxy was in a semi-final so they're now going to play for 3rd place, again Australia's Sydney FC, in the Pan Pacific games. That's going to air half past midnight (Pacific Standard Time) so I'll be up late at night watching the game. Hopefully they don't lose that game because it'll be a crummy way to start the season. (MLS season starts at the end of next month).

Ooh... before I forget... my mom told my dad and I the story about how when she was younger and visiting her uncle, his pet parrot pranked some nuns. Seriously. Her (my mom's) uncle had this parrot that was apparently quite the talker -- and not in the nicest way. One day, a group of nuns were walking near his house and all of a sudden the parrot yells "Go on, donkeys" (I'm paraphrasing it... and it sounds funnier in Spanish, I swear). So the nuns looks around, completely perplexed as to who would be saying that to them. So they continue on their way and the parrot, seeing them walk away, yells out the same thing again. The nuns couldn't see anything until the parrot starts cackling and they it laughing. What do the nuns do? They start cracking up that an animal would be doing such a thing. Only an animal would get away with such a thing. It's a good thing those nuns had a sense of humor too. Mom, who went to a Catholic boarding school growing up, didn't have the best experiences with nuns so it's good to hear of some that were awesome enough to laugh over a parrot's prank.

You know what else is awesome, yet kinda weird? Having a dream where two saints are fighting over you. Oh yeah! Last night I had a dream that I was looking for a necklace made out of jade (the gemstone). So, I found one that had jade beads mixed with some clear white ones. When the sales lady asked me what the necklace was for, I mentioned it was because I was starting my career. Then I saw a white candle being lit for me, and water surrounding it, and a statue of St. Barbara in front of it... but it was supposed to be a statute St. Lucy. That was odd. So then I heard a voice say "I'm her new patron" and I found out it was St. Monica sort of calling dibs on me. Then I heard another voice say "She belongs to me" and saw it was St. Lucy. That led to St. Monica saying that she was the patron of the vocation I was meant for and I basically woke up in the middle of them sort of wanting to claim me as their devotee. I believe it was a draw/tie. That was a bit odd, in a good way. When I woke up, I looked up what they are patron saints of. I knew of St. Lucy but wasn't too sure with St. Monica. St. Lucy is the patron saint of eye problems and (whoo!) authors/writers. St. Monica is the patron saint of homemakers, married women and mothers, amongst other things. So, that got me thinking... what IS my vocation?

It's kinda funny... last night, before I fell asleep, I was thinking about how I wanted to go have a chat with the young Polish priest (who is, I think, the most popular priest at my parish) about some things, including about possible vocations. I've been thinking about it because, though I love writing, I am not entirely sure I can make a lasting career out of it. I even thought that maybe I was supposed to become a nun, especially with the horrible luck I've had with ex-boyfriends. This past Sunday, while I was in Mass, I even thought to myself "What is my vocation supposed to be?" and I heard the word "Mother" in my head. The word literally popped up into my mind. So, the dream I had last night it sort of making me think about all of this. Maybe that is my answer. Maybe, through my dream and the thing during Mass, I got my answer that maybe becoming a nun isn't what I should do and that becoming a mother in the future is the best path for me. I don't know. They say we shouldn't read too much into our dreams so I'm trying not to. We'll just leave it at... I don't know but I do feel myself being drawn more to the wife/mother/writer side than the religious life/nun life. Only time will tell.

Alright, well... it's getting late, I'm exhausted for no reason (as usual) and a bit hungry so I am going to get some food in my stomach before I call it a day. Thanks for reading and God Bless. :D