When did this become the "hot thing" in holiday decorating?  Is it me or have the "regular" trees taken over the holiday spirit from the poor conifers?

Macaroni and cheese is arguably one of the best choices for a feel-good meal. I'm not looking to debate the type or ingredients. What I think is telling when it comes to macaroni and cheese eating are two simple questions.


1. Plate or bowl?


2. Spoon or fork?


Which type of Mac n' cheese eater are you?


And what does it mean?  Anything?

I couldn't make it "home for the holidays" as I still have plenty of grading left to do.  My father was nice enough to drive through hours of snow to visit on Christmas eve.  I promised him a wonderful Christmas service here at the Basilica of St. Josaphat in Milwaukee.


I went online and saw 10 p.m. noted as the start time.  George (my boyfriend), Richard (my dad) and I are not the most punctual people.  I knew this mass would be busy (full of Chreaster goers). I told them we needed to leave George's by 9 p.m. to arrive with enough time to find a parking spot and seats.  I went a few years back for Easter by myself and no one would let me sit down, although I was alone, all of the spaces that appeared to be open were "taken." -- that's a blog for another day.  #SomePeoplesKids


We left at 9:16 p.m. and still had to get gas.  We arrived at the church around 9:30 p.m.  We parked on 6th street to avoid the church parking lot congestions at the end of mass.


Things were looking good.  We walked in and there was PLENTY of room in the pews.  The choir sounded like a bunch of dying Canada geese (yes, this is the AP style for referring to this bird). Yikes - what am I subjecting my father (who is a Chreaster - Christmas/Easter goer) and my boyfriend (who is not Catholic) - hmmmm.


I opened the service program and noticed the it didn't actually start until 11 p.m.  Ooops. George wanted to leave and get a drink.  I was hoping he could hold on.  My dad on the other hand seemed quite impressed with the beauty of the Basilica.  He didn't really let on if he was glad to be in church, or not-so-glad that we had a longer night ahead.


Then Richard started making faces.  Oh no.  I forgot he had saur kraut earlier in the day.  YIKES. This might make for an even longer night.  I let him know where the bathrooms were if needed. 


Luckily at 10 the choir started. It was absolutely beautiful.  The Basilica is modeled after St. Peter's in Rome (a smaller version anyway). This coupled with the trumpets, violins, organ, tympani and angelic voices from above were breathtaking. It was even noted in the program that the Church encouraged churchgoers to applaud at the end (those who are Catholic know that this is sometimes a sticky subject).


The Choir did a rendition of Vivaldi's Gloria - it was amazing. If you shut your eyes you felt taken away.


Father Michael led the service. It was very nice.  My dad was impressed at the clarity of the message.  Fr. Michael is a little, well a lot overweight and was sweating heavily throughout the service. He is a good priest and I hope he takes up weight management for his new year's resolution as we've already lost a great priest due to health (he was also so large he could barely finish a service) reasons.


The cute little Deacon kept getting confused. I'm afraid he's suffering from something old-age related. He tried very hard and again it will be sad for the parish to possibly lose him too.  There was a younger priest aiding service and he rocked!  I think he may be Father Alejandro, but I'm not sure.  My dad also really liked his delivery of messages.

There were a couple times that I looked over at my dad and he was making cringing faces. I kept thinking, "hold it, hold it." As I didn't want the nice lady sitting next to him to receive the wrath of kapusta fart... 


Then I would look to my left and sometimes wonder if George was praying or sleeping.


No matter I loved the music, the incense, the decoration and the message.

The service didn't end until 12:30 a.m. 


My dad let some big ones escape on the way to the car.  Neither of them will contemplate going to church again until Easter, a wedding, funeral, or baptism which ever happens sooner.


I'll continue going as I need, sitting on the left side of the church and praying for anyone who asks.  Merry Christmas.

I went to the doctor today for the basic check-up.  I was alerted to the fact that I'm not a college girl anymore.  Alas, I'm in my 30's and it's about that time for the world of mammographation...

No, this blog post is not about my day at the doctor and I won't give you TMI about me.  But I did find out something interesting from the "reading materials" provided. Of course I asked questions I thought seemed obvious, but wanted to make sure.

The "for your well being" sheet notes, " Tell the technician if you have breast implants -- special pictures may be needed."  I had to ask the receptionist what this meant.  She said that b/c of the implant it is difficult to see the actual breast tissue at a normal exam.  Then for the mammogram they have to "carefully" (so it doesn't break) take the implant and push it behind the muscle so they can try to see the breast tissue.  She noted that even then they may not be able to see all of the tissue.  Plus they have to take double the xrays.  


Ladies (and their gentlemen who support fake boobs) think about this.  Really do you want to have a special procedure (that I hear is not the most pleasant in the first place) that takes extra time and double the xrays?  Really?  And is this all covered by insurance?  If it is, then I have issue with you if your breast implant was done for purely cosmetic purposes.


I've always wanted to know about how breast exams and fake boobs worked.  This confirms my thoughts that fake boobs really are silly. Unless you've had something horrible happen and your implant is for reconstructive purposes -- love your body for what it is.  If it has areas for improvement - then work out, wear make-up, try a new do...


I can't wait to see all of these girls who received implants in their 20's when they are 90 years old and the only thing not sagging is their boobs.  That's a silly thought too.  


#Somepeopleskids