JP II, Oprah, Kate Wicker and me!

Inspired by this great post on Kate's blog, I checked out the personality test she refers to (from Danielle Bean to Kate Wicker to good 'ole Cathy Adamkiewicz. I know, I should come up with some original material.)

Anyway, I discovered that, like my new cyber-friend Kate, I'm an ENFJ. (I told you we had lots in common, Kate! I swear I'm not making this up.)

No surprises here, I've uber-analyzed myself for years. I'm even starting to like aspects of my personality, and when I meet someone cool like Kate and find out we share lots of traits, I think I'm pretty awesome!

a Christian martyr

In Tennessee Williams' well-known play The Glass Menagerie, one of my favorite lines has been adopted by my best friend and me: "You are a Christian martyr."

Amanda, selfish mother to the fragile Laura, telephones her lady friends, attempting to sell them magazine subscriptions. She listens patiently as they describe whatever malady, real or imagined, they are enduring that day, to which she replies with feigned encouragement: "You are a Christian martyr!"

Kath and I have added it to our extensive lexicon because we love to call each other every day (OK, more than once a day) to complain, uh, er, share our challenges. Whether they be physical ailments, emotional disorders, arguments with family members, or spiritual disabilities, we love to offer up our sufferings to one another and hear that blessed affirmation. Yes, indeed, (say here with an affectation) "You are a Christian martyr!

So, needless to say, I was delighted this morning when I found in my email a response from a saint/sinner matchmaking site indicating the resident of heaven who had chosen me was a real live (in Christ) Christian martyr!

I found Marianne's site last week as I snooped around the web, and was fascinated. Here, for the price of an email, I could be hooked up with a patron for 2008. How cool is that.

I have to admit I was initially hoping for a more "glamorous", well-known saint. I just knew that I would be chosen by St. Therese, St. Bernadette, or St. Mary Magdalene. If it had to be a male saint, it would be someone famous and smart like St. Thomas Aquinas. If it was a martyr it'd be an attractive girl like Agnes or a cool, modern patron like St. Max.

When I was a little girl, I loved the well-worn saint book we had on our shelf, because it had PICTURES! Even though my mother told me I was named for St. Catherine of Siena, I knew she had really meant to name me after Cathy of Alexandria, because in those pictures she was so pretty and had long, blond hair. That gal from Siena was not pictured, but I read something about her chopping off her hair, on purpose, because it was her only decent feature. Oh dear.

Anyway, as I waited for my saint to choose me this week, I knew he or she would be good-looking, smart, well-known and creative, just like me! Imagine my surprise when I met up with St. Adrian.

St. Adrian and I just met this morning. I know nothing about him! Could this be right? I know lots of saints, and if I haven't heard of him, he must not be that great, right?

Wrong. All saints are great, of course, I'm just kidding about that. The whole making it to heaven thing is pretty awesome. But St. Adrian, I'm happy to report, turns out to be pretty interesting, and I'm sure the perfect patron for me.

I spent some time googling my new friend this morning, and I'll post more about him as our relationship develops. For now I'll share that several sites claim he is the patron of "communications phenomena" whatever that means. (Blogging, perhaps?)
He is also the patron of butchers, and I am a hardcore lo-carb girl. And Adrian is the first name of one of my favorite TV characters, Mr. Monk, that lovable OCD detective! I can't wait to find out more!

In the meantime I'll just delight in the knowledge that I have my very own Christian martyr watching my back this year. The communion of saints rocks.

I can haz nonsense

As my 79-year-old mother would say, What in the world?!
In the category of most interesting thing to cross my desk today is the highly intellectual and stimulating website icanhascheezburger.com.

The infamous LOL cats are on the loose, and they've even sunk their claws into this clueless housewife who's usually protected from such uselessness. I pride myself on spending my time with worthwhile endeavors (like reading Dean Koontz novels and even homeschooling children) and I'm normally spared the best (and worst) of pop culture.

It's anybody's call this time. I must admit when I first spied one of these critters, I was intrigued. Their nasty grammar reminded me of the difficulty I've been having teaching my boys their English lessons, and we all love cute animals, right? When a link appeared beneath the name of one of my future sons-in-law in my on my contact list, I had to check it out.

We really are a culture with too much time on our hands, aren't we? But I confess I laughed out loud when I visited the site. It's still OK to do that, right? Laugh at something just because it's silly and fun? That's all I can say today. Nothing profound, nothing important. It's just OK to laugh.