Da Pope-a

My first reaction was relief, sheer and powerful -- I was putting my brain into journalist mode, on my way out the door to go to work, and I was thrilled that I was going to be able to get straight to working when I got there, no anxious waiting again and the looming threat of having to rebuild pages on/after deadline.

Then, for a few moments, I actually teared up, before I forced the emotions back.

It's odd, really, 'cause I'm not Catholic, I didn't agree with almost everything he said or stood for and it's not like we weren't all expecting it. So why should I give a shit? I thought about it, though, and the thing is, okay, he meant nothing to me personally, but he was a major world figure with millions of people who loved and looked up to him. He was also an old, sick guy, a guy who was clearly suffering for at least the past month, a human being in pain both physically and emotionally. I had to look through all of the Holy Week pictures... he looked pained in some, almost like he was crying or trying to cry in others, very depressed, very frustrated when he couldn't participate, couldn't do his job, couldn't even croak out a few words of blessing. Any human being hates to see another human being look like that.

There's also the fact that he's The Pope. He's always been The Pope. In my lifetime, The Pope = John Paul II... there haven't been any other popes. So even though he meant nothing to me personally, it's still odd to refer to him in the past tense, weird to think that right now, there is no pope, JP is dead.

It's sorta cool, really. I mean, not him dying, though that was good, too, really, seeing his suffering end at last. But a sede vacante, no pope, the camerlengo in charge, a conclave with all of the traditional trappings... it's a piece of history, history more than a thousand years old, and we get to watch it play out. It's sort of exciting, kinda neat.

Behold, the power of cheese

I stopped to the store on the way home tonight to pick up a few things.

As often happens, I ended up in front of the cheese case, staring at the chevre. I've been trying to get myself to buy some for months now. It might be good, I told myself. It might be the best cheese in the world. But it's soft, like brie. And it's goat cheese. Who wants to eat goat byproduct? Lots of people do, though. And there are some good soft cheeses, too, like cream cheese and ricotta. But it's goat!

I forced myself to buy it. And just now, I forced myself to try some.

Oh. Muh. Guh. So tasty. It's like if cream cheese and cottage cheese had an upwardly-mobile love child. When I looked at the label, though, I liked it a little less, for a moment. "Goat cheese" still has a bad connotation in my head, even though I now know that it's darned tasty.

Meanwhile, I picked up some gruyere, as long as I was there... I'm thinking of making quiche, anyway. Mmm, gruyere. I love gruyere. It's like parmesan, but milder, less sharp and slightly less grainy.