Tuesday, July 07, 2015


Last month a lady came by our church and she was distraught. Like...screaming and crying distraught.  She had just found out that her mother had passed away, and she was taking it very hard.

I don't know this lady, except that I see her at church when she's here, but apparently she doesn't have very much in life, and she needed some clothes to wear to her mother's funeral.  The pastor asked if I had any clothes of a certain size that she could borrow, and because I like clothes and have been many sizes in my day, I did. 

I went home and grabbed as many of the things I had in that size that would be appropriate for a funeral, thinking that she'd pick something and I'd take the rest home. However, in the 20  minutes I was gone, the lady apparently had a complete come apart and ran out of the building and went home.  OK, then.  So the pastor loads me (and the clothes) up in his truck and takes me to the lady's house.  Instead of finding something that would fit her, she took it all. 

I wasn't mad, because the lady was obviously upset, and I just figured that I'd never see any of that stuff again.  I have a lot of clothes, so I didn't think it would be a big deal if she kept what I'd given her. I pretty much wrote it all off.  No biggie.

When I finally saw the lady again a few weeks later, she told me she had worn one of the dresses and would have it cleaned and bring everything back as soon as she could.  I told her to take her time, and I didn't see her for a couple of weeks.  I finally just decided to tell her to keep everything, if she wanted it.  I didn't want her to worry about having everything cleaned or worried that I'd be mad if she didn't bring it back.  However, the next time I saw her, she'd actually brought everything back and left it in my office.  I offered to let her keep everything, but she declined, so I went to take the stuff home and discovered that yes, she had the one dress dry-cleaned, which was awesome!  She had then stuffed it in a bag with the rest of the clothes, which had been sitting in her cigarette smoky house for over a month. I now have to take a load of reeking clothes back into my house. I hate cigarette smoke.  I wish she's kept the clothes.

Also, and I feel kind of bad about this, one of the dresses I gave her I had retrofitted into a Halloween costume. It wasn't gaudy or flashy, but it happened to be in with the clothes I got out of the closet.  That was the one she chose to wear to her mother's funeral. I cringe.


1) Our church directories are FINALLY in.  Hallelujah.  We got the proof back during the first week of June and I had to make revisions (which was a lot of revisions.) Honestly, I was so done with the whole thing by the time the deadline to return it came around that I mentally gave it the middle finger and just told the printing company that they could print it without sending it back for a second revision. Luckily, we must have caught the most glaring errors, because no one has complained about them yet!  I have never known a bunch of adults to be so impatient about anything in my life.  Granted, I know the directories are important to them, mainly so they can remember the names of the people they sit next to in services, but good grief. I swore that if one more little old lady asked me when the books would get here, I was going to start launching people through the stained glass windows like lawn darts.

2) I had a fun holiday weekend, and I hope you did too! I got to spend some of Friday with one of my oldest and dearest friends, who I don't get to see nearly often enough. It rained a lot, so our visit was a little damp (we met at a park because I didn't look at the weather when we were making plans) but I still had fun.  I really wish those visits could happen more often! Since I never know when one is going to happen, I'll just enjoy each visit like it's the last one! Live every week like it's Shark Week!

Saturday,  Steve and I didn't have any concrete plans, so we decided to pick up some food to grill and hang out at home and just relax. I would have loved to have seen some fireworks, but it was raining on and off all evening and I didn't really think anyone would be doing their firework shows.  I was wrong, of course, and we could hear a big firework show going on somewhere in town, but when I stepped outside to see if I could see any of them, it was raining really hard. Eh, well, even without fireworks it was still a good day!

Sunday was church, of course, but that night we'd been invited over by a couple of friends to play a game called Cards Against Humanity with some of their other friends. I'd never played it before, but we had so much fun!  I tied second place with our hostess, and Steve actually won the game.  I'm not sure it's something to be proud of, but we were both disturbingly good at the game!

3) I think I'm getting paranoid.  Sunday afternoon while we were walking into a restaurant for lunch, I hear something go "POW!" I nearly hit the concrete before I realized that it was just a bottle rocket.  Oy.  I think my current sense of self preservation would make sense if I were a combat veteran, but I have no idea why I'm this jumpy in my current situation.

4) This morning has started out magnificently. I woke up about 6:30 or whenever Steve got up.  I was awake, but I didn't get out of bed, because lazy.  Anyway, since I don't have to be at work until 9, I thought I'd just doze off for a few minutes before getting up to get ready, but I'd forgotten that I'd already turned off my alarm clock. I'm fairly certain that I was dreaming that I was lying there, awake, waiting for the alarm to go off, because when I actually did wake up and look at the clock, it was time for me to be actually leaving the house. So I was an hour late for work today.  Yay for me!

Tuesday, June 23, 2015


I'm having a blue day.

Nothing specific has happened, per se, but it feels like the world has just gone to boogers and lately it feels like just existing in it is a chore.

Don't worry, I'm not about to off myself or anything, but seriously, if I had a real opportunity to just unplug from everything and hide for a while, I think I'd take it.  The big problem with that is I'd eventually have to come back to it all.  You can't really hide from it. 

I know a lot of this stems from the fact that I had a very sheltered life for a very long time.  When you are safe in your own home, with people who care about you, you don't have to think about it. It's easy to forget/ignore the homeless, the mentally ill, the poverty, the neediness, the lonely, the sick, the children who's parents don't care about them or that abuse them, the racism, the sexism, the dishonest, the violated and the violence. Technically, I still live a very sheltered life, since I'm (thank God) not actually experiencing these things first hand.  I see it at work a lot these days, though, and it scares me. It's constant. People come to the church all the time with their hands out, sometimes they are legit and other times they are scamming us, but all of them have sad, pitiful stories. I don't believe most of them anymore, because I'm getting so cynical, but that doesn't mean I'm immune to them.  There are enough of them that are true.  There are days when I feel like I'm trapped under a big, heavy blanket and it's smothering me. The really bad part  is that I'm not even dealing with the biggest part of things, I'm just in the wings.

You can do things to try and help, but it doesn't feel like it makes much of a difference.  Sometimes it feels like the ugliness is winning. 

Thursday, June 11, 2015


1) At the end of last month, I had to go to my doctor's office to get a prescription refilled.  I was literally only in the office for about 10 minutes (which was way less than I thought I'd be in there) and I was so glad, because I wanted to get breakfast before I had to go to work and I didn't want to be late.  However, when I got down to my car, the battery had died. I was going to be late after all.  Boo.   I had to call AAA to come and deal with it.  Well, I called Steve first so that he could come and rescue me, but he reminded me that we are members of AAA and we kind of pay for them to come and do this kind of thing, so I called them.  Whatever.

Anyway,  when they got there, it turned out that my battery wasn't just dead, it was really-most-sincerely-dead.  It had apparently had enough of a charge to turn on my radio earlier, but not enough to hold a charge and keep it, if all they did was jump it off.  So I agreed to let them put a new battery in my car.  It wasn't cheap, but I figured that it would be worth the money if my car didn't die while I was at work and trap me in the ghetto with no one to help me!  I was so pissed off at my stupid car!  It's been giving me trouble for years.  Not bad enough trouble to get a new car, but there were strange electronic hiccups and bits falling off of it all the time.  I was ready to drop-kick the entire car into the ocean, but before I could do that, I'd need a battery to drive it there. When they pulled out the old battery, it actually turned out that my POS car wasn't as much of a POS as I thought.  Although I'd been having issues with my car always doing something strange, it wasn't the car, it was the battery.  The battery hadn't been changed since 2006, when we'd bought the car.  All those alarms going off, indicator lights flashing, and the car turning itself off at red lights had been my battery slowly dying.  I credit my car for somehow managing to work, albeit with the problems it had, but all the while doing it with a battery that was flickering in and out of consciousness.  That battery had worked longer than any the AAA guy had ever seen.  So, I'd like to publicly apologize to Lois, my car, who I verbally abused for reasons that were not her fault. Sorry, Lois.

2) Have I mentioned that I hate this part of the year?  It's like the whole world goes crazy.  Not zombie apocalypse crazy, but just crazy enough to unsettle me until July or so. Maybe I just hate June. Bad things sometimes happen in June. I'm ready for June to be over.

3) I finally got my permanent crown!  Yay!  It's actually much better than my old crown, which felt like it was a size bigger than any of my other teeth.  I didn't have to be sedated to have the new one put in, thank goodness, but it was still unpleasant.  They accidentally cemented my new crown to the tooth next to it, and then spent 15 painful minutes trying to break the cement with dental floss.  They kept pushing down hard and snapping the floss, and when they finally broke through it, I think that they damaged the tooth it was cemented to because it's been almost 10 days and it still hurts to chew on that side. You guys know how much I like to eat, so chewing is important.  At any rate, I have the new crown, and it looks nice!  It'll also make it that much easier to identify my body in case I'm murdered and discovered months later in a shallow grave!  Silver linings!

4) Well, I managed to look wildly racist this morning, so that was fun.  We have a rule that, because of the neighborhood the church is in, I am not allowed to let people inside the church while I'm here alone unless I know them.  That probably seems like common sense, but that rule hasn't always been in place.  We have people that often come here asking for help.  I used to let them in to hear them out, but after some people at a church across town were killed doing the exact same thing, the rule was created. So this morning our doorbell rang and it was three black men asking for help.  I told them, through the speaker, that someone would be with them in a second, but then remembered that I was here all alone. I'd forgotten the pastor was dropping someone off somewhere, so I went to the door myself and they asked if anyone could give them a ride.  I knew our pastor would do it (he's cool like that) but I knew I couldn't let them in.  I had to tell them that I couldn't let them in, which made me feel about in inch tall, but they seemed understanding about it. They all stayed outside. While they were outside waiting, one of our church members - a white lady- rang the doorbell and I didn't think twice about letting her in.  It wasn't until I was unlocking the door that I realized how it looked.  So, you know, now I'm probably the racist lady who works at the church.  Great.

5) Sorry if I sound glum.  I've had a really weird week.  It has made me tired. 

Tuesday, May 19, 2015


1) I hate this time of year.  I wish I knew why, exactly, but I have no idea.  Maybe it's the weather, or bad memories, but for the past (almost) 7-8 years, this time of year just depresses the hell out of me.  I always get stressed out and anxious, and since I can't pinpoint what causes it,  I can't really do anything about it. Just got to wait it out, I guess.  Am I the only person who gets S.A.D. in the summer? 

2) Last week I had to go have a crown replaced. Lots of fun, that! Heh, no, not really.  It's something my dentist has been wanting to do for a while, but only just recently decided to follow though on. Apparently, my old crown had not been made correctly, or maybe it had degraded?  I'm not sure, but he wanted to replace it.  I'm actually embarrassed at my reaction to his suggestion that I replace it for two reasons: 1) I asked to be sedated.  Call me a giant weenie-dog all you want, but I seriously hate having people mess with my face holes, and if anyone is going to do something invasive to one of them, I don't want to be lucid. They don't sedate, but they do use nitrous, which I'd never had before. I agreed to that. 2) I said "I'll need to talk to my husband first!"  It wasn't until it came out of my mouth that I realized what that sounded like.  They looked at me really weird and said that it needed to be done, and I needed to make a decision, so they made me an appointment that I could cancel if Steve said no (or whatever.)  Let me clarify: Steve would never withhold any kind of medical/dental treatments from me.  I know this!  However, since his layoff from his last job and because he's still working as a consultant and not a full time regular employee, we have weird vision/dental insurance that we plan on changing, so I wasn't sure if that would be in place by my appointment or not.  I didn't meant to sound like a 50s housewife who needed to check with my husband to make sure my dumb ol' teeth were important enough to spend money on!  :) I did explain that to the lady at the front desk, so let's hope that trickled back to the other folks! 

Anyway, the day of my appointment came and I was worried because I didn't know how out of it I would be.  I've heard of nitrous, but I didn't know what it would do to me.  They fitted the little cup thing over my nose and left me alone for a few minutes.  I kept thinking "This isn't working! I don't feel anything!  They're going to excavate my crown and I'm going to feel everything!  AHHHH!" but then everything got very, very bright.  I didn't feel floopy or anything, but I did stop being afraid.  The dentist came over to give me a shot, but had to walk away to do something else before he could, and the hygienist came over and asked me "are you numb yet?"  I wasn't, of course, but then again, I had no idea what nitrous does to people.  Was I supposed to be numb? Is that what nitrous did to people, make them chill AND numb?  I said "Is it supposed to make me numb? Is he also going to give me a shot?"  She looked at the chart and said no, he hadn't done it yet and it was the shot would make me numb, not the gas.  Noted.  

So the dentist came in and gave me a shot, which I didn't care about in the least, and they stepped back to let that work, and they started talking to each other about watching instructional videos about dental work on YouTube. I asked if they learned things from YouTube and they were all "Oh, yeah! You can learn just about anything from videos on YouTube. If you want to know how to do it, they probably have a video about it."  I nodded and said "Yeah, that's how I learned to castrate pigs. On video, I mean. I never had to do it practically, thank goodness, but still."  That was when I knew for sure the nitrous was working on me.  See, when I've been drinking, or if a doctor has given me a sedative, or things of that nature, there is a tiny voice deep inside of me that stays sane and lucid. Think of it as the pressed dextrose tablet of Kelly at the very center of the Gobstopper that is me.  It's a tiny voice of reason that says things like "WTF did you just say that for?"  or "Wait!  Don't do that!" or "Seriously, that will probably ruin your marriage/job/life. Let's not do that."  I hear that voice. I know the voice is there.  However, I don't always listen to that voice.  While I was talking about castrating pigs, that little voice was saying "No, wait...that...why?!  Stop talking. Stop talking now."  If I'd had the capacity for shame at that point, I'd have been horribly embarrassed, but I didn't give a frak. However, I knew enough not to talk anymore and they got down to business on my tooth.  I'm sure I wasn't experiencing time at a normal rate, because it seemed like they were done in just a few minutes.  I had my temporary crown in place and they made me do a connect-the-dots puzzle to make sure I was okay to drive.  I don't think it wore off as fast as they thought it would, but they let me go anyway and I drove off still feeling kind of weird, but it passed after I got something to eat.  I'm a fan of the nitrous.  I'm wondering why more doctors don't have it!  I'm going to suggest it to my gynecologist!

3) Spiders are out to get me this year.  Last week I was in the bathroom at church, when I thought a bug or something flew by me.  It was so close that I couldn't see exactly what it was, so I stepped back, and it was a rather large spider that had done a Mission Impossible style drop from the ceiling right in front of my eyes.  I almost had a heart attack, but I managed to grab a paper towel and murder the beast.  Yesterday I was at the gym, when a spider fell from the ceiling and landed on my elliptical machine while I was in the middle of ellipticalling.  I know I screamed and flailed, but to give me credit, I didn't slow my pace.  The stupid spider crawled all over the interface and I kept trying to flick it off.  I finally managed to blow it off of the machine and someone stepped on it, but I wasn't comfortable on the thing for the rest of my workout.  Then later, as I was leaving home to go to work, a spider tried to descend onto my steering wheel while I was pulling out of my driveway.  I'm glad i was in my driveway, because I would have run off of the road.  Luckily it was small and I had a sticky note in my console that I used to smash it.  I can't take much more, y'all!  

Wednesday, May 06, 2015


1) So, in case you are interested, I went to the pulmonary doctor and he wasn't worried about what he saw on the CT scan.  He told me I have a 12mm nodule in the upper, right lobe of my lung (about the size of a marble) and a bunch of granulomas (basically, little swollen spots) scattered throughout.  That sounds much scarier than it really is, though, because it mainly just means I'm still having issues due to the pneumonia I had earlier in the year.  I must have had a worse case of pneumonia than I thought!  At any rate, he wasn't worried and I wasn't worried and now I have to go back for a routine 3 month CT scan just to make sure the stuff is going away.  Also, he wasn't that much of a bastard at all.  He was dry and straight forward, but he wasn't mean.  Due to what people had told me about him, I was more scared of meeting this doctor than I was about finding out the results of my scan.

I also got lost leaving the doctor.  I was less than three miles from my house, but I got turned around.  SIGH. I'm horrible at finding my way places.  If it wasn't for my talking GPS, I'd probably be in Guam.

2) A couple of Sundays ago, I was walking to the back of the church when one leg of my pantyhose exploded.  OK, before you make fun of me, yes I still wear pantyhose with dresses.  SHUT UP!  I have pale legs!  Anyway, you might think I'm kidding when I say that they exploded, but I'm not.  I was walking to the sound booth and my left leg started to feel weird. I can't really explain why it felt weird, but I knew there had been a disturbance in the force, if you will.  Since I couldn't pull up my dress in the middle of the sanctuary, I walked back into one of our storage rooms to see what was going on.  I can only assume that I'd bought a defective pair of hose because this is what happened:

Just in case you've never worn hose, I assure you, that is not normal.  So I was standing in a storage room with my dress gathered up to my waist, and one leg of my hose hanging on by a thread.  I was going to try and tough it out, but all I could think of was that thread letting go and the leg of my hose sliding down like a stretched out sock.  Nope.  So I had to take them off.  My legs practically glow in the dark already, so I was not happy with the turn of events.  I also never really thought about how covered up I feel when I'm wearing the hose, so after taking them off, I felt mostly naked.  It was an uncomfortable rest of the morning.
Sometimes being a woman sucks.

3) We think lightning hit the church a couple of weeks ago, and it blew out a whole section of our electronics.  We've had to replace several things, including part of our AV system, an internet switch and wireless router, but one thing we haven't gotten around to is replacing our "Doorbell Camera."  I don't know what the proper name for the thing is, but when people ring the doorbell, a camera turns on a monitor at my desk and I can talk to them through a speaker.  If I want to let them in, I hit another button and it remotely unlocks the door.  That probably sounds like overkill at a church, but trust me, our neighborhood is rough, so it's a necessity.  We've been trying to get people in to look at it and fix it, but we've had the run around like you wouldn't believe. Our security company swore they didn't sell it to us (they did) and the pastor tracked down the original salesman (who no longer works for the afore mentioned security company) and had him come and look at it.  He said he couldn't do anything, but he'd send someone to look at it. However,  because we didn't have a contract with his new company, he had no idea when they could come. Then our current security company called back and said "Oh, yeah, we can totally fix that!"  So they sent a salesman out to look at it, but since he's a salesman and not a technician, all he could do was sell us a new system.   The pastor was not pleased and sent the guy away.  We bought a new power supply, but that's not making it work, so we have no idea when the security camera doorbell will be fixed.  I hope it's soon.  I don't like going to the door.  We have legit crazy people who come here all the time, and I don't like not having the option to screen them out, especially if I'm alone.

One funny thing to come from it, though was on Monday morning, when the representative of our church's security company come by to take a look at the monitor for the camera.  He had to crawl under my desk, which is a horror show of cables and stuff. I'm also worried that food had fallen under there and I haven't found it, so just in case, I apologized for any thing he might find under there.  I said "Sorry if there's crumbs or anything under there, but I eat like a Klingon."  He laughed and said "No problem!  Oh, and may the 4th be with you!"  Now, I wasn't expecting him to say that, and honestly, I haven't figured out the proper response, so I kind of stuttered and said "Oh, and you too!"  He looked at me and said "You know, the 4th be with you? It's a thing people say today. Sorry, maybe I'm just weird."  Bless him, he thought I didn't understand what he was talking about.  He had NO idea.  Anyway, he was embarrassed after that and I didn't know how to tell him "Don't worry, I'm one of you!" so I made some comment about Star Trek that, in retrospect, didn't make much sense and then we retired back to our respective, awkward corners. 

Geeks in the wild, ladies and gentlemen. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


I'm so tired of going to the doctor.  I mean, I'm glad that there are doctors out there that can basically digitally peel you apart and see what is going on inside of you, and I'm glad that I have access to those doctors, but I feel like I've had more than my fair share of them this year.

I told you about my visit to the Doc-In-the-Box in January because I thought my heart was glitching, and about that visit leading me to the hours long stress test that I had to take to "ease my mind."  Well, just the other day I had a regular visit with my GP.  Just routine stuff, but I had to have blood work and a chest X-Ray beforehand as part of it.  Two days before my appointment, the doctor's office told me they saw some shadowing on my X-Ray and that I needed to go and have a CT scan of my chest.  This probably would have scared me if they'd told me they found a spot, or a lesion, or a ferret on it, but shadows can be caused by almost anything, including leaning too close to the machine-thing.  So I go to have the CT scan, which was a lesson in patience, because you have to wait SO FREAKING LONG before you get to go back there.  I was given an IV (which thankfully didn't squirt my blood across the room this time) and injected with what felt like hot coffee, but what was (I was assured) contrast dye.  That part was really weird because they told me the dye would feel hot in my veins, and then make me feel like I'd just wet my pants.  They were NOT lying about that.  It also made my liver feel like I'd swallowed some lit birthday candles.  Then I was passed in and out of a scanning doughnut, which spoke to me in a creepy robotic voice "Breathe In. Hold Your Breath. Exhale."  I kid you not, it was like the weirdest Disney ride you could ever imagine.

So that was over, and I was fine with it.  Certainly it would ease the doctor's mind about any lung shadows he may see.  I'd had pneumonia after all, so I was sure that's all that it was.  The same thing happened to Steve a year or two ago, and they'd had him convinced it was inoperable lung cancer, but thankfully it was just because he'd had scars from an earlier bout with pneumonia (which he'd never been treated for because he's stubborn and likes coughing a whole lot.)  So, at my actual appointment I was told everything was fine. Blood work was fine and my CT scan just said I had a nodule (just like Steve) from my case of pneumonia.  He even showed me the report that said it was a lung nodule with a very low chance of being anything scary.  I'm paraphrasing, of course.  All he said was that I have to lose weight, of course, but when do I not?  The only other complaint I had was that my side had been hurting quite a lot. I thought it was my gallbladder, and so did my doctor.  So the next monday he sent me to have an ultrasound on my abdomen.  Fun stuff, that ultrasound.  Imagine getting covered with jelly while someone rolls a Tonka truck all over your stomach. It was weird.  Later that day (and way sooner than I'd imagined) they called me to tell me that my ultrasound was fine, although that doesn't explain the pain, but for all I know there really is a ferret in my spleen.  She also told me that the doctor went back to look at my CT scan and wants me to see a pulmonary specialist after all.  The same one as Steve went to, actually, and he says that doctor is a bit of a bastard, so that should be fun.  Now I have to go see yet another doctor who will probably have me scanned or jellied or some crazy thing.

Somewhere in there I also had a dentist appointment where they told me I need to have my crown replaced in early May and I have yet another, unrelated to anything else thus far, doctor's appointment I have to go to in either May or June (depending on when there is an opening.)

Seriously, I'm very, very grateful that I have access to so many doctors and insurance to help pay for these visits, but this is an embarrassment of riches. Getting old sucks.


I'm testing something out, here. We're fine.  We're all fine here, now. Thank you.  How are you?

Tuesday, April 21, 2015


You guys, I have a problem.

OK, it isn't a real problem. Not like a "I need a kidney" problem or a "I've Been Locked In a Closet for Two Days and Need To Use the Bathroom" problem.  Nonetheless, it's a sort of problem.

I like candy.  I like it a lot.  It used to just be chocolate that I'd hoard and eat whenever no one was looking (although I don't really consider chocolate candy, per se. It's too important for that,) but now it's all kinds of candy.  I blame Steve.  I'm not sure why. 

Anyways, you can look at me and tell that I like candy, but my fondness for it has mutated recently. Over the past couple of weeks, I've been buying Japanese niche candy. I've bought that kind of candy before and I've even talked about it on this very blog.  But now I have a whole lot of it. More of it than a grown up, child-free woman should own all at once.  I'm not sure why, either.  It's like a compulsion! I think it has to do with the Japanese videos that I watch. So, in a fit of what I can only assume is some kind of fever, I Amazoned myself a whole lot of strange Japanese candy.  Some of it is straightforward, pull-it-out-of-the-box-and-eat-it kind of stuff and some of it is way more complicated.  No, seriously, you have to mix things and put things in the microwave.  Also, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what some of it actually is.  It's all written in Japanese, so I can't even Google it.  I'm just going to have to do my best.

Of course, I'm bringing you all with me!  I can't help it.  I feel less guilty about buying candy when I can talk about it on here, so you will get to see it all, if not taste it all.  Yay!  So stay tuned for what I've dubbed: