The One About the Nuns

If you know me at all, you are well aware that I am prone to leaping out of bed and saying things like, “I’m going to learn Vietnamese-today!” or “I was born to help the nuns!”

I blame it all on coloring books. When I was about 5 years old, anytime I got a new coloring book, one could find me weeping over it about 25 minutes later, “I need to finish it NOW!” I would wail. So this desire to instantly do something right now has been part of me for a while. But I digress.

A few months ago, with my older child happily ensconced at a Jesuit College (Schwing!), I was really feeling the “one down, one to go” syndrome. To put it plainly, I had one child left at home and some extra time on my hands.

My paternal grandmother had been a good friend to the Poor Clares order of nuns in Bloomington, Minnesota for many years. If anyone can make poverty, chastity and a life of service look appealing, it’s these gals. They are living a truly selfless existence and doing so with a cheerful calm that lets you know they took their time with coloring books. If you know what I mean.

Anyway, I decided that I should bring the Poor Clares dinner. So I emailed one of the sisters, and identified myself. Yes, she did remember my grandmother, and yes, they would love me to bring a meal.

Well this was working out just swell! I was clearly a wonderful person and it’s about darn time the world knew it!  This dinner will be just the ticket.

Based on some dietary restrictions, I whipped up a yummy meal. Now we don’t have time to go into it now, but I used recipes from the Pioneer Woman website. If you haven’t heard of it, you’re like me and have been trapped under an armoire for a couple of years. She’s the Bloggy McBloggerton Winner of 2009 and beloved by millions of women. Her website about home schooling her four children on a cattle ranch while also being an award-winning cook and photographer will make you want to take your own life.

My point is, it was a really good dinner.

I arrived at the appointed time and started unloading the car. The sister I had been communicating with came out to greet me. I started to walk confidently toward the door, but she made it clear in a wordless Dog Whisperer way, that no, I was not welcome to enter the building. Just like a poorly behaved rottweiler who finds himself schooled by Cesar, I took no offense but changed my behavior immediately.

I let sister take the food into the building, one platter at a time. I had the good sense to look chastely at my shoes and try not to misbehave again.

But I’m me. So this was short-lived.

She told me that she would like to show me the chapel. Thrilled that my Cretinous ways were in the past, I followed.

We took a quick tour and in due time, I sensed that I should go. She thanked me for the meal. And in an effort to leave her with a lasting final impression of my true nature, I said, “Well I sure hope you enjoy it. That is, if you’re alive in the morning.”

Again, think Dog Whisperer: In one instant I could see on her face that my entire Pioneer Woman menu was going in the trash. Immediately. Right now. I was a crazy stranger who had blindly emailed and was bringing food to 17 nuns. How did she know I hadn’t tampered with it? What kind of a person would joke about such a thing?

A fast colorer! That’s who!

A lifetime of experience kept me from even trying to back pedal. I got it. I had basically intimated that I had poisoned their food. Yup. Nice work.

I don’t know if we file this under “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished,” or “There She Goes Again.”

It’s taken the crayon out of my coloring for a while, I can tell you that.

“So, two Catholics go into the steam room…”

That certainly sounds like the beginning of a joke that will get you fourteen Hail Mary’s and an extra shift at Sharing and Caring Hands, doesn’t it?

But no, I just call it, “Yesterday at the Fitness Club”.

A certain Catholic mother that I know graciously agreed to come and work out with me. When I say work out, I mean do seven minutes on the elliptical, pretend to do naughty things with the free weights and lie down on a mat and talk.

My friend is a serious athlete. But she’s also a lot of fun, so she was willing to forego a real workout and just come along and be a good sport.

Even though H1N1 loves nothing more than entering your lungs through steamy air, I still thought it would be fun to go into a communal steam room at the club. And by fun, I mean that I firmly believe you can “sweat out” pino grigio and Junior mints (items I had consumed the night before).

After assuring me that she was no stranger to the naked form (being a trained artist and such), we headed to the steam room and opened the door. Well, if anyone in there had body insecurity issues, they  got sent back to square one.

Fitness Friend shrieked “What’s happening? Where are we? Are those men?” Let the record show that the steam room, which has always been empty before, was filled with large human forms of indeterminate gender. And it didn’t help that several of these gals had on giant navy blue underpants and were lying face down.

Of course, being a grown woman, I immediately shut the door.

And then I laughed until I cried and peed just a little.

Mrs. “I Saw Two Thousand Naked Bodies In Art School” was suitably horrified and yet sticking to her guns, “What? I couldn’t tell if they were women! I’m so confused!”

Anyone who has ever had a fear that “If someone saw me naked, I just know they would scream in horror,” should know that it happened. Yesterday.

And I was lucky enough to be there.

Drinking the Catholic Kool-Aid

I never had a bumper sticker that read, “Parent of a Wiggleford Honor Roll Student”

Mostly that’s because I never had a child at Wiggleford Middle School. I doubt there IS a Wiggleford Middle School. But I digress as always.

I have taken a deep and refreshing gulp of Jesuit University Kool-Aid. And by golly, I went back for more! I have turned into one of THOSE parents who talk about their child’s school (in this case, their college).

Those of you who know me, are no doubt tired of having heard me drone on about Boston College 6287 times since my sainted child was accepted into the class of 2013.

Be aware that if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. Polite society (and a few ass hats) is still reeling from my diatribe about elementary school conferences. Easy! Easy! We’ve been over all that!

My point is: if I, “Irreverent Human Regarding ALL Things Academic”, can start droning on about a college, well, it’s a very real phenomenon.

It’s an early Christmas Miracle that my car is not covered with various stickers “Jesuits Do It Educationally” and “My kid went to Boston College and all I got was this $52,000 tuition bill!”

I have appeared in public, not attending any sort of athletic event, sporting a BC t-shirt. Holy age inappropriate attire! I knew it, and I still wore it!

Rebel or nincumpoop? You be the judge.

At the hair salon the day I was rockin’ said item, I was approached my a male Notre Dame fan (and not in a good way) who wanted to “get into it” about the infamous Holy War that is the BC/Notre Dame football game. I wasn’t even a formidable opponent (or victim) because I wasn’t able to recite any stats regarding the game.

This is all on my mind tonight as I go to pick up my beloved BC student when she comes home from school for Thanksgiving.

She better be bearing gifts. And by gifts I mean BC logo items. And by bearing, I mean handing over.

Happy Thanksgiving! Even to ass hats!

My private Idaho. Revealed.

I have a very fast mind.

It’s important for me to start with something self-congratulating. You’ll see why in a minute. But the point is, when I get on a tangent, say searching people on Facebook, one thing leads to another.

“Hmm, I wonder what ever happened to Schmitty O’Toole?” Search Schmitty O’Toole, which then makes you think of Farkas Macdougall, who in turn makes you wonder about that wench you used to work with who had a huge ass but thought she was hot.

You’re feeling me. OK, here’s the trouble. Why on Gods’ Green Earth would I EVER think that people CAN SEE THAT YOU’VE SEARCHED FOR THEM ON LINKEDIN?

See it really wasn’t Facebook.

Well Christ on a cracker (sorry Catholics, I’m having a fit), who would ever search anything if they thought people would know?

I thought I had better join the kids and post a profile on Linkedin. It’s all the rage on the intraweb, I hear.

Well one thing leads to another as I try to build my “connections” and perhaps even be “recommended.”

Who knew that unless you check the box that says “Hide my identity from those whose profiles I have visited” that “they” could see that you’d looked? My face is getting hot, and I’m not sure I’m breathing.

I have figured  out that all ex-boyfriends, former co-workers, ex-wife of my sainted husband, random neighbors from the past and various people who would have every right to think “Call the cops!” can see that I have viewed their profile. Well, again, not sure I’m breathing. Feel like entire carpool line just saw me frontally nude (and not in a good way).

Katie said it best, when I called her to explain the situation, and said “You’re going to have to move, and possibly kill yourself.”

Mental note: Don’t call Katie to talk you off the ledge.

See what happens when I do something modern? I’d better cancel my Twitter account too.

Saints vs. Saints

It’s that time of year again: Catholic school basketball season, of course.

It will be the Saints vs. the Saints at all games. Captains of both teams will be named Patrick, Luke, Matthew and John.

Mothers of said captains answer to Mary, Maureen, Katie and Colleen.

Look for the shocking combination of navy and white, red and white, or kelly green and white in this year’s uniforms.

Oh, and don’t forget: the refs? They are priests from THE OTHER parish.

Just saying.

Have a blessed basketball season!

More Badness

The main feedback we are getting is, “The book is too short!.”

Of course it is. We have self-diagnosed ADD, ADHD, Inertia, and General Laziness. Plus Yaz hasn’t cleared up our acne. Why am I speaking in the plural?

Anyway, rest assured this summer will include the feverish compiling of more essays and stories for Bad Catholic Mothers Part Two (a working title of course).

Other titles could include: “Bad Catholic Mothers-Why Are My Pants So Tight?” Or, “Bad Catholic Mothers-Satan’s Handmaidens at Play.”

Summer will also include unsightly unveiling of flesh, sneaking food and drink into pool area, and lots more weeknight drinking by moms everywhere-don’t you just love summer?

Reading/Signing April 2 7pm

Just a reminder that we will be at Birchbark Books on April 2 at 7pm to read from and sign copies of Bad Catholic Mothers-A Book of Revelations.

Yay!!

Um, Louise Erdrich loves our book. Yeah, that Louise Erdrich, the one who’s written some of the best American novels of this century, a bunch of sweet children’s books, loads of  awesome poems and has won herself a snootful of awards in the process.  I once suspected I saw Ms. Erdrich in a public bathroom; instead of approaching her to spray admiration all over her shoes, I was overcome with a spasm of panic and hid in a stall. Hid in a stall! What the hell?? Like I was afraid if I made eye contact I’d sh** a brick right there on the bathroom floor or something. 

SHE LOVED OUR BOOK! SHE’S INVITED US DO A THING AT HER SHOP!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Wheeeeeeeeeeeew…so:

APRIL 2—7PM

Birchbark Books

2115 West 21st Street

Minneapolis, MN 55405

BE THERE!

2 weeks and a hit coast to coast!

Well everybody, Bad Catholic Mothers has been available for just two weeks and the feedback has been tremendous! Katie and I have heard from friends all over the country who have bought the book and laughed themselves sick (no shot for that peeps!). Friday, February 27 is our first reading and book signing. We’ll be back with more news. Thanks for supporting Bad Catholic Mothers!

Bad Catholic Mothers-A Book of Revelations is now available!

Hi everyone! We are thrilled to report that Bad Catholic Mothers-A Book of Revelations by Lucia Duff Paul and Katie McCollow, art direction by Fran Shea  is now available!

Drop your rosary beads and race to amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com or your local bookstore to get your copy.

It’s easy to order online now, or from the big chains. We love the independents, but there may be a lag time before we show up in their databases. Give them a try though because we are huge fans of independent booksellers.

Not Catholic? Don’t fear (except for your immortal soul of course), this humorous collection of essays and vignettes from real women (and one man telling us about his mom), is for anyone who appreciates a good laugh.  It’s a fun, fast read. We had a ton of fun creating it, and we hope it brings you joy too. Tell all your friends! Or else….

Lucia and Katie