I realized that I haven’t actually written about the “big things” that have happened in my life lately, and there are quite a few of them!
A few weeks ago, Kevin and I graduated from college! That was completely thrilling and wonderful. The moment of reflection was awkward. In such situations, I never know if I am supposed to close my eyes and bow my head, except no one is actually praying. It feels like it’s supposed to be a prayer, except the “reflector” never actually references any Supreme Being of any kind, but he isn’t really talking to us either. The choir always sings an “Amen” at the end, and this makes it even more confusing. I compromised my tilting my head to the side and closing the opposite eye.
The next morning (seriously, I got up super early so I could shower and actually spend the necessary time to style my hair…and nobody really needs to know how long it takes me, it’s truly shameful) was Kevin’s commissioning ceremony. Side note: what is it with the military and their obsession with early hours? For everything, even celebrations, which I think justify sleeping past 6:30 for? Up until Kevin and I got married and I had to at least pretend to be awake when he got up for PT, I would’ve considered myself a morning person; I feel seriously disgusted with myself if I’m in bed past 9, and I prefer to be up before 8:30. But this…even their celebrations occur at the butt-crack of dawn. Gag. But Kevin looked truly and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in his dress blues, and other than a brief panicky “OMG we forgot the bars” turn-around-and-drive-fast-back-to-the-apartment-so-I-could-run-up-in-heels-get-the-bars-and-then-fall-down-the-stairs episode, the morning went swimmingly. I was so proud of him, and I could not be happier to be a Marine officer’s wife.
Fast-forward to Christmas Eve. Kevin and I went to a Midnight Mass at St. John’s. I’ve never been to a mass, and the Catholic church really outdoes itself at Christmas. There were some cultural differences between the Catholic and the Protestant church. The biggest one was singing. I love Christmas carols, and I think “Elf” really got it right: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” (I do think carols are better than songs about an old man spying on you at all times when it comes to true Christmas cheer, but that is neither here nor there.) So, in the spirit of Christmas cheer, I sing Christmas carols loudly. The Catholics in the church treat the whole thing a little differently. A Catholic blogger that I frequent and think is rather funny said one of the rules of the Catholic church is “I can sing softer than you can.” I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. (oops.) Kevin, whose familiarity with the Catholic church was my absolute lifeline from embarrassment, had to keep nudging me in order to keep me from completely exposing myself. It is really, really hard to rein in “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” for the record.
By the way, it is cold, snowy, and BRRRRR. I am dreaming of spring, and green grass and leaves on the trees, and being closer to the ocean than I’ve ever been in my life.