How Do I Feel About My Bangs?

How do I feel about getting bangs, you ask?

Well, I'm not sure.

I think my expectations were a bit unrealistic.

Looking back on it now, I'm pretty sure that I went into it with the expectation that having bangs would make me into a more beautiful person. But, instead, I look more or less the same. I still look like me. Except I have bangs now.

And I'm not any more beautiful.

I Got Bangs!

It happened. I did it. I really did.

(I suppose I could have posed for a better picture. Those are my pajamas you're seeing.)

I Love Thomas Merton

So, there is this Catholic Trappist monk who was also kind of into Buddhism and interfaith understanding who I really love. His name is Thomas Merton.

Here is a quote from him, in his especially awesome book, "New Seeds of Contemplation":

"A saint is capable of loving created things and enjoying the use of them and dealing with them in a perfectly simple, natural manner, making no formal references to God, drawing no attention to his own piety, and acting without any artificial rigidity at all. His gentleness and his sweetness are not pressed through his pores by the crushing restraint of a spiritual strait-jacket. They come from his direct docility to the light of truth and to the will of God. Hence a saint is capable of talking about the world without any explicit reference to God, in such a way that his statement gives greater glory to God and arouses a greater love of God than the observations of someone less holy, who has to strain himself to make an arbitrary connection between creatures and God through the medium of hackneyed analogies and metaphors that are so feeble that they make you think something is the matter with religion." 

I just love him really a lot. That is all.

Montessori Schools

I was talking to this lady from church about education the other day. Her kids went to a Montessori elementary school (J.J. Hill Montessori in St Paul, for those of you wondering), and she was wondering how they would transition to a regular school setting when they entered junior high. So, when he entered junior high (Ramsey Junior High in St Paul, for those of you keeping track), she asked him how he was transitioning. And he said, "It's easy. The teachers do all the work for you."

And then we were talking about how our church school (St Mark's in St Paul, for those of you still playing along) wanted to increase their enrollment (they're goal is 50 new students in kindergarten for the new school year, but it's been said that they would be happy getting half of that), and I suggested that they should make it a Montessori school because parents today (at least all of my friends) love Montessori and people are willing to pay for a Montessori education. I know I, personally, would rather pay for my kids to have a Montessori education over a Catholic one (which is what I actually do... but we get a HUGE scholarship.). I just don't see much difference (aside from being able to talk about God in school) between the Catholic school model and a regular school. (Vern used to be an elementary teacher and has taught in a couple of Catholic schools.)

Maria Montessori (the founder behind this whole thing) was a devout Catholic, but there is only one Catholic Montessori elementary school in the Twin Cities area, and that is way up in Blaine.

Maybe I should suggest that to the school board or something. Now, if only I were that type of person...

Retro Vernon (and This Is 36)

Yesterday, Vern and I stopped at this store called Retro Wanderlust in Hopkins, MN during our "Vernon and Allison Date Day", and I requested that he try on some shirts:

Then we went to the movie "This is 40" at the cheap theater in Hopkins, and it was weirdly, kind of embarrassingly, similar to our lives. As in, we had similar faults as the characters in the movie. Vernon said something about that, and I said, "It just means we are similar to Judd Apatow, and that makes us cool."

There is this one scene in the movie where the couple is having a nice, peaceful moment, and she says to him, "Why do we fight? It makes no sense at all?" And he says, "When we get in a fight, look in my eyes. Let’s remember this moment right now and know that we never have to fight."

And Vernon and I have had almost the exact same conversation, word for word. (Except, I went so far as to suggest a code word that would remind us not to fight and remember the peaceful time.)

Anyway, so then we were at church today, and (some of) the kids were being kind of frustrating, and Vern leans over to me and says, "This is 36."

And I say, "Am I 36? I'm not 36, am I?"

And we both thought it over for a bit and came to the conclusion that I was 35 (not quite 36). And so I said, "This is 35... when you can't even remember your own age anymore."

Ah... good times.