If you had an electron microscope you couldn’t locate my interest in the end of this semester.

So, as of 9:55 on Friday, May 13th:

I have turned in one (1) paper.

(The one I care about and care about impressing the professor and cried a little over because it was forty-seven pages and the footnotes were pretty and you know what I really like footnotes, yes, I know it’s weird.)

(But also the one for which I’m not too terribly concerned about the grade.)

I still have to finish, polish, format, and turn in one (1) paper.

(The one that I really hate and don’t like writing and doesn’t really have anything to do what I actually wanted to talk about or what is in the syllabus for that matter through no fault of my own I was told to change every little single thing and seriously, Andrew Greeley bugs the LIVING HELL OUT OF ME GAHHH and I have never attended Mass with the professor and have no warm fuzzy feelings about you, sir, so I DON’T CARE.)

(Also the one that I’m freaking out about the grade because I HAVE NO WARM FUZZY FEELINGS ABOUT YOU, SIR.)

I have finished teaching for the semester.

(Which I actually enjoy.)

I still have to administer, grade, and input about one hundred (100) essay exams.

(Which is more work than it seems because we graded EVERYTHING ALL SEMESTER YOU TOOK A BREATH? FIVE POINTS FOR YOU.)

I have bought a ton of books on Amazon.

I have yet to read anything non-historiography-related without feeling guilty.

There you have it. About half finished. At least if we combine the bad stuff in one big thing.

A smart person would finish that paper (because the rest is just busy work and won’t really hang over my head.)

A dumb person would watch Modern Family on abc.com (again- because it was SO FUNNY), download Glee songs, and kill time on the internet whining about how much work she has to do.

I think we all know where this is going, don’t we?

I don’t know these people.

I’m 23. I’m in grad school. I’m not hideously deformed. Most of the time when people in that position talk about, “Oh, man, what a weekend!” they’re usually referring to riotous good times, drunken brawls, major relationship-changing developments, or, you know, things that have something remotely to do with their own lives.

When I say that?

I probably mean the fact that the royal wedding and John Paul II’s beatification happened within forty-eight hours of each other then just as I was planning on getting more than two hours of sleep, bin Laden was killed and the world erupted in strangely-happy-over-someone’s-very-politically-charged-death. And that was that.

I know. It’s sad.

(My life. Not bin Laden’s death.)

Because I was too tired on the actual day(s), my thoughts. (Which I also tweeted, here.)


– I can’t believe I’m watching this.

-I mean, he was supposed to be mine.

– This is ridiculous. I’m better than th…


– Kate’s dress was lovely, but it was also exactly what I’ve been planning on wearing to my wedding since I was like 12. What. I plan ahead.

– So now it’s going to look like I stole it.

– The ceremony was lovely, except I was not cool with the Archbishop of Canterbury constantly making reference to Christ’s union with the Church. For numerous reasons.

a.) I don’t like that phrase. Because it’s creepy.

b.) The Church? Oh, you mean the one you guys left in 1527? That one?

c.) Seriously. It skeeves me out.

– I loved that they were actually into each other.

– I loved that Prince Harry was already like 48% drunk.

– He hooked up with Pippa. Who totally knew what she was doing.

– At one point it got so Disney that I was pretty sure bluebirds were going to start holding up her veil.

– I’m still insanely jealous. But I’m all really into you, Duchess of Cambridge. So I guess we’re okay.


– I was disappointed (though not surprised) that no one seemed to be as excited about this as I was. MSNBC was like, “uh, this is a big deal, I guess…”

– Benedict’s vestments were also lovely, and they did not remind anyone of Grace Kelly. So good call, Holy Father.

– I cried. A lot.

– George Weigel was on MSNBC and I spent four hours fangirling George Weigel. That was…totally normal.

– I heard those readings like eight times this weekend.

– I think that explaining basic parts of the Mass to people up at 4am is pretty silly, MSNBC.

Osama’s death:

I don’t really have a whole lot to say about this. My reaction was:

Okay…going to bed…are you kidding me? Seriously? TONIGHT? It’s been ten years. I guess I should stay awake…*zzz*…NO! Must stay awake…where the hell is Obama….this isn’t going to work out as fantastically as everyone seems to think it will…*zzz*

And finally, just to make it full circle, the Vatican’s statement on Monday morning:

“Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of everyone before God and man, and hopes and pledges that every event is not an opportunity for a further growth of hatred, but of peace.”

I think Blessed John Paul II would approve.

(And if the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge had anything to say about, I would have posted it too!)