I know. You're thinking: wrong saint.
Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone. I have to admit, though, I'm
having trouble getting worked up about the whole thing. I'm not
Irish, not even a rumour, not even a bit...so the whole pride
thing is passing me by. Also, I don't think I'm that cool with
the whole 'persecution of pagans' thing. But hey, I live in a
more enlightened age so I'm not going to cast stones...although
if I'm going up against early Christians, I might be the only
one refraining from that particular pastime.
Today I decided to do a little research into my heritage, so
I could know which saint's day to celebrate. I found out that
the 2 patron saints of Italy - by far my largest ethnic heritage
- are St. Anthony and St. Francis. St. Anthony is still a major
figure in the Catholic faith. Traditional time for prayer to him
is Tuesday nights. He is the finder of lost objects and fulfils
other petitions. His feast day is June 13 (coincidentally, the
day before I started the online diary thing.) Saint Francis is
also a familiar figure to most. His feast day is October 4.
In summary, I found out that even if I stick with just celebrating
the Italian part of me and no other, I can get obnoxiously in
people's faces in two different seasons. Sweet.
* * *
Today I spent some time in conversation with a woman who was
experiencing regular epileptic seizures. It seems to be brought
on by stress, and this weekend followed a week of babysitting
for her family; anyway, we would talk about this and that and
every once in awhile she would go elsewhere. She would
fall silent and get a far-away look, and her left hand would slowly
slip downwards. Sometimes it would spill. Sometimes she would
come back to herself before the food landed on the floor. And
then we would go on talking until it happened again.
I guess that was the strangest part; that we just kept nattering
away all the time. I took my cue from her. I think she gets tired
of being fussed over. I know I would.
* * *
Good weekend, but once again, not enough done. Spent hours rewriting
the curriculum vitae and the cover letter so that I can apply
to GTA school boards. More boring than it sounds, actually. And
there were 2 more lessons written and a radical reformat of the
unit...5 more lessons to go. And then, joy o joy, I get to plan
the f****g 10-lesson History unit.
You know, I wouldn't be so angry if it wasn't all coming down
to this next week. I have one more week of university classes.
This might be the last week of university in my whole life, and
I know I'm going to spend it worrying about my next field experience.
By the way, if you can suggest a good recording of a beat poet,
please don't keep it to yourself. I need these things...
* * *
pictures from american catholic. nice stuff.
* * *
1 year ago today: the loser support centre
