“Welcome to Milwaukee, The Bloody Mary Capital of the World” greets me like a familiar hug each time I arrive at General Mitchell Airport in Milwaukee. Green Bay Packers paraphernalia, Cheeseheads, and Drink Wisconsinbly shirts adorn the vendor stations lining the central walkway to baggage claim.
“And how would you like that prepared?” I ask with a gleaming smile. She pauses, shutters, and lets out an impatient yet staunch, “Cooked please.” I fight the urge to crumble as my stomach drops.
Contrary to most students, I love icebreakers. Admittedly, I am competitive in group discussion settings. I try to have the most creative response to the prompt.
The most numerous stat to my name is the number of times I have attended mass. 52 Sundays multiplied by 19 years equals 988. I am rapidly approaching my 20th birthday, so add a few for the past year—plus Holy Days of Obligation & all school-mandated mass in high school—I have probably attended mass around 1,000 times.
