Two things

I checked Wikipedia today because I couldn’t remember whether my feast day was 11 August or 12 August (it’s the 11th), and you know what I discovered about St. Clare? Well, several things. First, I saw that she was the patron saint of clairvoyance, and that pleased me because although I don’t like puns qua puns, I really really liked the idea of the Catholic patronage assigners making little puns. I pictured them sitting around the table in the patronage assignments meeting, and they’ve been dipping into the Communion wine cause it’s a long meeting, and they’re getting a little silly, and they’re like, “No, dude, dude, dude, I got a good one. Clare – clairvoyance? Get it? Get it? Hahahahahaha, dude, gimme another shot of that divine blood, man.” And like the Pope’s trying to be responsible facilitator guy but he’s snickering too, so they totally press their advantage and they’re like, “No, seriously, we have to make her the patron saint of clairvoyance! Write it down!” and they all start going “Write IT write IT write IT” and the Pope says he’s going to do it just to make them shut up—

But then it turned out St. Clare had clairvoyant experiences. And that was why. So I tore up the letter that I was going to send back in time to tell the patronage assignment guys that it was good they were keeping a sense of humor about everything, and to be careful about drinking that communion wine or they’d wake up with a wicked hangover.

Oh, and (I guess this makes it three things, but whatever, this is still essentially part of the St. Clare thing) in the mid-50s, the Pope also made her the patron saint of television. Television is one of those things I don’t think needs a patron saint, but since it’s not my call, I’m pleased that I come by my television-watching ways honestly. Not like the rest of you loser couch potatoes with no excuse for your ways (*cough* Robyn *cough*).

The other thing was WAY MUCH COOLER which is why I have saved it for, um, second.

So yesterday, I virtuously agreed to give up one of my evenings for volunteer purposes – also fun, however, you know, virtuous and volunteery but fun at the same time – and when I came out of the building to go home, there was a falling star. That fell! Down from the sky! It was crazy: I walked out of the door, glanced up at what I thought was a plane, and then I thought, Well, hey, that plane is mighty enormous and plunging downwards and then I thought, HOLY FUCKING GOD IT IS A FALLING STAR AND CONSEQUENTLY THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER.

Seriously. Falling stars are so, so cool. No wonder Victoria was going to give it up for a falling star. I always thought they were cool, and one time my mother told me that falling stars aren’t that great, but I didn’t really believe it, and now that I have seen a falling star, it is clear to me that she was totally wrong. (Though once I described it to her, she said she thought my falling star was much more amazing than the crummy one she saw.) My falling star was wonderful. It looked huge and it fell most brilliantly and scattered sparks and sparks, and it was completely magnificent. It fell right down from the sky. It entirely flamed out and disappeared. If you have never seen a falling star, you really should.

Oo, and also: My mum gave me a massive bookshelf to keep for my very own when I move into my apartment. It is humongous. It is a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and contains a lot of space for many, many books. Not every book that I own, but very, very, very many indeed, and I can put my other books on shelves in my very large closet. I am going to take this bookshelf to my new apartment and put it in my bedroom, and I will put my cousin’s chair right in front of the bookshelf, and it’ll be all read-y and sit-y and I will sit and read and read and sit.

Yay.