I'm pretty well used to the vicissitudes of a hectic life. Before I joined the Jesuits, I was pretty well accustomed to a schedule of teaching, learning, working, and playing that left a number of people wondering how I managed not to lose my head over it all (hehe, they never realized that I did actually become wholly unhinged). Much of the constancy and order that I seemed to maintain was due, in large part, to what I conceived of as a stable self-identity, a sense of "who I am" that defied finesse or outside influence.
How wrong I was.
Since August, I have done things I never would have dreamed of doing: going to the gym, jogging, shaving my head bald (I valued each and every precious hair, particularly as they are geting fewer and thinner), playing ultimate frisbee, and then yesterday I did the most amazing thing: I rode a roller coaster.
I hate heights, ironic for someone whose lifestyle led him to fly most weekends. But I really hate the vertiginous feeling of looking down on the whole world, particularly if the only thing keeping you from falling to your death is a metal bar and a harness. Nonetheless, I found myself strapped under the skeletal structure of "The Raptor" yesterday and then propelled in every possible direction at break-neck speeds.
Most people scream, laugh, or celebrate on these rides. When I could speak in between hyperventilating breaths, it was in no uncertain terms that I informed Drew Marquard of my new and intense hatred for his cajolling me onto this ride. My intense hatred has abated and become a smoldering resentment by now, and I do owe him great thanks for helping me to get over my fear of these rides. I still can't claim to be a fan of them, but I can see that in the future I'll try some of the even bigger and faster (GULP!) coasters.
I'll be in Cleveland for about a week. I'll arrive on Thursday and will be occupied at JCU until Sunday. From Sunday through Wednesday night, I'll divide my time between Villa Hagan (my vacation spot with my grandmother in Rocky River) and Casa Duns (the asylum) with my family.
The feis on Saturday was a lot of fun, though very hot. A number of the Jesuit novices came by and observed the strange culture of Irish dancing...one guy is still in shock over it all. They were all impressed with Anne Hall and two of them have asked after her age because they insist she's not old enough to be an Irish dancing adjudicator (judges are at least 30).
I'm sweating as I write this. Our house has no AC and it's pretty darn hot outside (and inside).
I bought shorts and sandals. This is also a big step, as I've normally eschewed such casual attire. I reckon I'll have to do some more expanding of my wardrobe in order to include a few more pairs of shorts. OH! Thanks to my Wyoming trip I now wear a size 32" waist -- which is the thinnest I've been since I was in, I think, the fifth grade. I was a real porker as junior high student!
After I leave Cleveland next Thursday I'll make my way to Denver where I'll study Jesuit history for four weeks. We'll live at Regis University and I'll be only 8 blocks from Anne Hall (yeah!!!!) so it should be a great experience.
For now, that's all I have to say. I'll be glad to be back in C-town for a week and I hope to see a number of people on this visit. If you should like to see me, call my personal assistant HAGAN who will be glad to take the message, order by importance, and pass it along to me upon my return.
Speaking of Hagan, a special congratulations to her on her first place win this weekend in her competition. She now joins her two older sisters and her brother Colin as a championship Irish dancer. For once I won't deride her win by saying it's a consequence of her dancing against amputees or something. It's a job well done and she should be proud of herself...and if there's room after that burgeoning ego has swelled, maybe I'll be proud, too!
OH! Check the recipe site - I'll make a quick addition shortly.
I wrote this for the 2018 North American Irish Dancing Championships, but I reckon it applies to any Irish dancer! --> ...
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