Crapchilles

My Achilles tendon is tight. I can't figure out what I did to it, but I've been scaring myself reading medical stuff on the magical Interwebs, which says things like I can't run on it again for, like, the next 30 years. Meanwhile, my other leg has had the jimmies for, like, 48 hours straight. I just want to shake it all the time, move it around. Jimmy, jimmy, jimmy. Arrgh!

In other McPolack news, I've found a church I think I might like: the Paulist Center, in downtown Boston. It's a place for marginalized Catholics. According to McMumsy, they walk the razor's edge of being booted out by the Pope because they are so liberal. Of course I felt entirely at home there. I was practically crying during parts of the service. There was liturgical dance, which I haven't seen since college, and a lady in a motorized wheelchair serving as a Eucharistic minister, and different music, and no kneeling, and no patriarchal use of the word "man." One of the priests even does Jungian dream interpretation. I grabbed a copy of Commonweal on the way out and read it on the train ride home. I'm finding the good stuff in Catholicism in a big way and I'm so excited about it.