Unrelated

I have defeated the elite four.

Connectedness - Nothing is Coincidence

I told someone once that God will guide me by circumstance. They had cornered me in University College and I had really just said that to get rid of them, however I now realize that's how God had been leading me until I sought him out.

Joe had convinced me to visit his church. I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw the name of the Church; Saint Joan of Arc.

Saint Joan had managed to always pop up in my life. I found a book about her when I was five and it was one of the first things I read after learning to read. A little later I had become an avid card game player and St. Joan had saved me several times.

The first mass I had attended kept me on my toes. I hadn't been to any mass services in a while and was trying to remember what i was supposed to do. In the midst of all the confusion I had managed to hear a message about learning more on Catholicism. I didn't plan on attending (although it did spark my interest), but later Jacqueline, Joe's girlfriend, asked me to go so she wouldn't be alone.

After sitting awkwardly in a basement full of people I didn't know for a few weeks, I eventually warmed up to the group. It was hard to stick with for a while.

I felt obligated to answer these questions, but they were deep and profound questions on subject I had just heard of, let alone had time to process and form an opinion. So I just sat and listened to other people's thoughts and stories.

When the discussions went over my head, I would ask Joe and then later Scott, my sponsor, about exactly what was going on. As the classes continued, I understood more of the conversation, and had eventually decided that this was something I wanted to be a part of.

The culmination of the class took place at Easter Vigil, the Saturday before Easter.

After sitting my family toward the back of the church (to avoid general disruptiveness) I went to the meeting place for the people entering the church and the sponsors that helped see them through the process.

It was hard for me to pay attention to what was going on. I tried, but the excitement and nervousness kept my mind on the fact I was getting baptized. I kept imagining something spectacular, either good or bad, would happen. My biggest fear was that I had something wrong with me or my understand and the holy water would be like acid or cause me to burst into flames.

Besides getting a burn on my fingers from candle wax, the baptism went with out injury or spontaneous combustion. Father Guy called my name and I walked up, in what felt like a jerky motion. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I glanced over at Joe and I'm pretty sure he was just as excited I was. I tilted my head over the holy water.

Father Guy said, "Nicholas..." my saints name. I see my uncle jump up from the back and then my grandma get up just as quickly. She grabs his ear and pulls him down. "... I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." He poured the water over my head.

I stood for a second expecting something to happen. No bright light, no burning feeling or bursting into flames. I walk back in about the same jerky fashion that carried me over to the baptismal tub in the first place.

Even after the baptism I had remained distracted. I wondered exactly what I had gotten myself into, what exactly just happened, what was going on now. I think that's the reason we had rehearsal earlier that day. It was easier to do the practiced motions than to actually try and figure out what I was supposed to do.

After Mass was over I looked for my family. I knew they wouldn't be comfortable being agnostic or staunchly protestant. They left almost immediately, but I didn't mind.

After I went home I sat and thought about what had happened. I'm still working through everything and I think I always will. I don't really know where I'm going, but I'll get wherever it is, eventually. Hopefully.

A day in the life

Junior high. That was awkward. Nervousness always plagued me as a child, but junior high was different. No longer icky and infested with cooties, girls became the new bragging right among the guys in school. First impressions were everything and I was not off to a good start.

Events from the year past had left me timid, and being obese didn’t help. I also hoped to thwart bullies by NOT becoming a teacher’s pet. But most importantly, I started a never-ending process of self development and improvement.

First day of school. I tried to move my way quickly through halls. After dumping everything in my locker, I went to honors English, my first class of the day. Being the first to arrive in my class, I had to decide where to sit. I didn’t want to stick out, so I sat in the middle of the room. The exact middle.

New people didn’t come often. I was shocked when the next person came in was someone I didn’t know. We made briefly made eye contact, before glancing around, acting like we were just surveying the room. Time stood still in a never ending moment of awkwardness. After studying the lamp just to her left for an eternity, I decided to inconspicuously doodle in my notebook. The pencil lead snapped as soon as it touched paper.

“Yeah, those are shitty pencils,” she said as she sat down.

Our eyes met again. This time, it was a glare. The room was full with a combined feeling of what-the-fuck and yeah-I-said-that. No words. Just a glare.

The stares continued in a broken fashion. In between halfway paying attention and making small talk with other people, we stared for as long as the environment would allow. The bell dismissed us and I lost her in the crowd. Who the hell was she?

The next couple of classes, algebra and social studies, were the standard first day. Expecting hour four, science, to be the same was a mistake.

I had been late after having to hunt the room down. The door was old and needed a budge to open. After barging in I took my seat and began to witness something I had never seen before.

“HIYA GANG!!” said the hairiest man I had ever seen.

His high pitched voice threw me off as well. The femininity had stunned the class. Unable to reply or respond, we just sat there. How did this guy survive coming to this county?

“Is he gay?!?” someone loudly whispered from the back.

The man’s face transformed from peppy to threatened. Immediately the man pulled out what seemed to be a portfolio of his wife and motorcycle. He had a majority of the class convinced of his story, but he went one step overboard. The “Linda Cheer.” After watching this interesting tidbit of humanity for 50 minutes, the bell rang and dismissed the puzzled students from the hellish awkwardness they had lived through.

Next was lunch and my opportunity to learn more about my new nemesis, the pencil girl.