Yeah, I don't know about why she doesn't go to confession. Her church also usually does General Absolution, where you go to mass and get absolved of your sins without actually having to go to confession.

She has always disliked confession since one of our priests told her that he could see who people were through the screen.

Also, my mom 100% not on the logic train anymore, so she may have her own crazy reasons for not going to confession.

That's pretty much exactly what confession is for, and most priests would just roll their eyes and say, "Your penance is to try to be here next week, and to not beat yourself up so hard the next time you miss a week, which you will."

By her standards I am about the worst Catholic in all Catholonia.

eta: It sounds like there's more going on, and I am sorry that she's being so rigid. Vibing hard that something slips through and she finds the grace to be gentle to herself.

Also, my mom 100% not on the logic train anymore, so she may have her own crazy reasons for not going to confession.

Yeah, fair enough.

Yeah, because my first reaction was that's what Reconciliation is for too...my super Catholic dad has gotten a bit less strict as he got older, and OCCASIONALLY skips Sunday mass. Gasp!

My dad has frequently missed mass because of his health, so he's a lot more forgiving.

And, home. The cat was chill, the oil leak is still minimal, the house smells funky, my boxed set of Cadfaels are here. My mind has now transitioned from vacation/no responsibilities to on to the next thing/so much cleaning tomorrow. Oh, and I'd best check in with my sister in law to see if we've still on for dinner tomorrow night.

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to stay home and not upset myself, but I so need to get out of this homogenous world of Utah on a regular basis. I need to see the other color of people and hear the different languages (Spanish practically doesn't count any more), and see the startling things people wear on vacation. I may be becoming a prude, because some of the girls would walk by and my only thought would be "Oh, my dear, no." And women my age would have me think "Dear god, you know better than that, don't you?"

In the room next to me was a passel of twenty-something girls, squealing at each other. The first night I was there, they were coming down the hall, dressed for hunting, burbling at each other: "Are we in Vegas! Yes! We are in Las Vegas!" I wanted to pat them on the head, give them a stern lecture, and make sure they all had condoms.

Next trip, though, is to visit Elena in Canada. Time to get a passport. And to get a new apartment first.

The windy city was windy today. [link]

It did take some effort to avoid being blown off the train platform this morning.

I have nothing to add to the Lent conversation.

Maria, it's fine. One, I compartmentalize like whoa and two, wysiwyg with me. Hello, last week? When I ditched when you were already on the damned road? The only way you could be a tool is if you actively ignore my "I can't do this" and you never have. If I truly can't or am approaching it, I'll say so. Both a failing (can be incredibly socially awkward and unpopular) and a strength (know your limits.)

It's one of those things where I have to Really Pay Attention to the unspoken signals from people, because I will take you at your words and totally miss the negative indications because of how I am. And have to remind myself, with a couple of friends in meatspace to not get testy with their multiple 'are you sure? Really, I can...'after I state my position. I meant what I said! Verbatim! But others take different approaches, for various reasons.

Fuck, you guys. My brother's wife had to go out of town yesterday for work (WAY out of town, as in, Myanmar), and I talked to him yesterday afternoon. Today one of his buddies from school posted on FB that he hadn't heard from Jeff in 24 hours and was really worried about him.

That set my parents and other extended family off, and everyone was calling everyone else to see who had talked to my brother and when. And we had all (obviously) called my brother's cell phone tonight and got voice mail.

In the midst of all this, my brother texted me "I have sleep. Cops were fun." So at least I know he's alive, but it freaks me out. I text back and ask him to call me. He replies "Just please let me sleep." So I figure, well, he's not in jail, because you don't get to keep your iPhone in jail.

Then he texts "Please tell her parents that I am not" -- that was it. So I get SUPER worried that this is about his wife. And I replied that I was REALLY worried and can he PLEASE call me.

He did call, and we talked for about 2 minutes. The friend who posted on FB called the cops to do a welfare check on him, and they woke him up (he said he had only slept 30 minutes last night, so he was trying to sleep today). He asked me to call our parents and tell them he was okay (I think that was what the "tell her parents" text was -- I think he was dictating to Siri and "her" came out instead of "our") but he really needed to sleep.

His buddy from FB messaged me and told me that the cops said Jeff was HAMMERED when they checked on him and they really wanted to take him to a non-lockdown detox facility in Boulder, but he was eloquent enough to refuse a blood alcohol test (the curse of our family -- we are eloquent drunks), so they couldn't take him.

DAMN IT. FUCK FUCK FUCK. I wish they would have taken him to detox. This is not good. His wife is in fucking Myanmar until next week, possibly Thursday. This is really not good.