So, who died and decided that Catholicism gets to be fun, joyful, and upbeat?
I was in Brunswick this weekend, and at the coaxing, prodding, and general obnoxiousness of my almost youngest cousin Jordan, the Jordan grandchildren, sans Sam Bouchard went to church on Sunday morning. Now let me set something straight: I don't mind church at all anymore, I actually enjoy it and will even admit that I have a number of my favorite church songs in my iTunes library. I have known one single type of Catholicism my entire life; it's solemn, traditional, and even almost a bit theatrical. My church, St. Louis, does things the way the Vatican would want them done.
The Catholic church my BWick family attends, however, is completelyyyy different than the likes of what I have ever experienced. They have a band, complete with drums, harmonicas, cymbals, chimes, an emo, eye-liner wearing guitarist, an elderly bass player...the whole nine yards. EVERY single song that they play is upbeat; there is no solemn tone to anything they do. The lyrics of their music are projected on a huge screen at the front of the congregation, and people are strongly encouraged to clap along to the music. A lady strolled in with her poodle, and I got caught laughing out loud at the jolly and even kind of insincere tone of everything, and only one lady gave me the hairy eyeball. I couldn't handle any of it...not the music, the sung Our Father, or the general tone of the mass. My uncle literally made a comment that it was like a circus and I honestly couldn't have agreed more.
Now I get that the Catholic church is struggling and probably doing everything in it's power to get young families to come back to mass. This, however, is NOT the way to do it; Catholicism is based on structure and tradition, and it's why I actually like to be a part of this religion. It is not the rigidness or traditions that turn people away from mass; it is the belief and the demand that the priorities of the church are the priorities of the people. There is nothing wrong with gay marriage, sometimes abortions are the best decision, and other faiths have substance too them, too. These are the things that Catholicism needs to relax about, to adopt different views upon, not the structure of mass.
But seriously, I wish I could have brought my BlackBerry in to take video and pictures and post them here for your enjoyment. I could not take ANY of it seriously.
I took the bus back to Boston this afternoon and was scared out of my mind by the people I was sitting near. They must have gotten on in Bangor, and got off the bus in Portland for some refreshments. I settled in in one of the back rows, completely unaware of the friends who would resume such space when they got back on. They (three scary looking men) climbed aboard with bottles of liquor wrapped in brown paper bags and sat behind me. As the trip progressed, one kept commenting on how he was headed to Syracuse...and I was wearing a 'Cuse tee. Awkward. The more they drank, the more friendly they became; one kept tapping me on the shoulder and offering me patches that you would like, sew on a hat from Vietnam or iron onto a jean jacket. He did it at least three times. They schemed a plan to pay off the bus driver to let them roll joints in the bus and smoke them all the way to Boston with the intent of creating a huge clambake. One shared with the ENTIRE bus: "I got a 7 year-old niece that I swear to god's a lesbian. I caught her once trying to stick a lollipop up my daughter's whooooha."
I say he shared that with the entire bus...not exactly true. I saw my first real-life Helen Keller today. As we were rolling down I-95, the bus driver came over the PA system and announced: "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen; the gentleman walking down the aisle right now is blind and deaf and is trying to go to the restroom, so if you see him struggling and needing help finding it, place his hand on your mouth so he can read your lips." He was also a little person. That shut the boys at the back of the bus up temporarily, let me tell you. I think he made it to the bathroom and back all right.
Speaking of the bathroom...I had a Helen Keller moment of my own. I could NOT, for the life of me, figure out how to lock the door. I literally spent 5 minutes trying to figure it out...and without the door locked, the light in the bathroom doesn't turn on. I was ready to pee my pants, so gave up and just tried to hold the door shut while I squatted. It didn't help that the place literally smelled like a horse stall AND that I was barely able to squeeze a drop of GermX out, but I survived. I'll never drink a bottle of water on the way to Portland ever, ever again.
I got back to Boston and was immediately invited to Berry Lime with my roommate and a few of her friends from Tufts. It's very similar to Pink Berry... You pick a frozen yogurt and toppings for your dessert. Quite good.
So I basically became biffs with two of my best friends' boyfriends this weekend; Brian and I did mad bonding via text and even a bit of Facebook, and MDR and I are FB friends who have even written back and forth to each other once. Surprise, Janielle.
Oh, and if you haven't heard by now, I cut and frosted my hair. I like it and can't believe how much it makes me look like my beautifulllll mother.
I'm going to see the new Harry Potter movie Tuesday night at 12:01. I'll let you know how much I hate myself for that on Wednesday, but whatever.
Miss you all. Stay epic...if not for you, do it for me.
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