RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) For Steve's birthday, I ordered two DNA kits from 23 and Me.  I knew that he'd been curious about his heritage for a long time, and since they were running a two for one special, I thought that would be a fun thing for us to do.

If you've never done a DNA collection sample, it's kind of gross. You have to spit in a test tube, and not just a little spit. You have to give them a LOT of spit!  I don't like to spit on things, but it was for science!  We sent our samples out on the same day, but Steve's came back first.

Everything was just as Steve figured his would be. European and Scandinavian, plus a few odds and ends here and there. He was thrilled!  As far as he's concerned, he is a Viking.  Heehee.

Mine were not as I suspected, but not in an exciting or exotic way.  We are supposed to have a significant Native American portion in our family, but nothing that indicated that was in my DNA profile.  I already knew that there isn't a specific, say, Cherokee, marker for DNA or any other specific first nation tribe for that matter. I'd read somewhere that was because the peoples that eventually became what we think of as Native Americans came from somewhere else thousands of years ago, so the DNA profiles for them would show up as from some other continent. So I expected to have that kind of marker in my DNA, because my great, great grandfather was allegedly full blooded Cherokee. Well...not so much. My profile said I was 99.5 percent European.  Specifically, English/Irish, French/German, Swiss and Scandinavian.  The closest thing I had to what I could consider a connection to any Native American connection is .2% Filipino (and that was categorized as Native American/East Asian.)  I also have .3% African, but I'm pretty sure everyone does.

So no surprises there for me!  I'm not Japanese, or Russian, or the great, great, great, great granddaughter of a Spanish conquistador.  I'm a little disappointed, I guess, as I'd hoped my heritage was a bit more exciting, but hey, "I yam what I yam" and I guess that's not so bad. :)

2)  Speaking of the (alleged) Native American members of my family, my sister is following up on some leads that are supposed to connect us to them and she's found a lot of information about the people were are supposed to be related to. I don't have all of the information yet, but she did tell me that our (alleged) however many great grandfather Old Tassle had two brothers, Double Head and Pumpkin Boy, and those guys retaliated against some white settlers that were causing a ruckus, killed them, and then ate them.

Man, I hope we are related to them! Why would anyone want a nice, normal, calm set of ancestors when you can have CANNIBALS?! Amiright?

3) So tomorrow is my birthday and I've taken the day off of work to do...I don't know what yet. We all know that my birthdays can be a bit of a disaster, so it's best if I don't carry that juju magumbo into my workplace. There are things I'd like to do, but who knows if any of them will happen?  Making plans is sometimes a recipe for disaster.  Maybe I'll go out and get myself a birthday cake!  Maybe I'll sit at home in my pajamas all day and watch YouTube videos of people unboxing things! I'd like to have a fun day, because if you can't treat yourself to fun on your birthday, when can you?  We'll see. 

4) Oh, y'all, I was scared to death last week while I was at work.  I was alone in the building, and I heard what sounded like a closet exploding open and things falling everywhere.  It was loud, and it was a very scary thing to hear when you're someplace alone. I checked the two offices right next to my desk and decided that whatever happened, it was out in the church itself.  I grabbed my baseball bat and started investigating.

I don't know if you've ever had to walk into a bunch of dark rooms in a big, empty building, but it's nerve wracking. There are literally dozens and dozens of places that someone could hide if they had a mind to, and since I can't see every door into the place, there was a chance that someone had walked into while we had other visitors going in and out. If they were there and hadn't said hello to me, it wasn't a good sign. 

So I'm walking down every hallway, flipping on lights, kicking open doors, and clutching a bat in both hands, because I was ready to beat someone's ass if I had to.  It was very tense.  It got even worse when I opened one door, and a baptismal robe (person shaped, of course) swung out at me. I nearly wet myself.  So, after I walked everywhere, upstairs and down, and didn't see anyone, much less whatever had made such a loud sound, I was starting to think I was going crazy.  You don't hear a sound like that and it be nothing, you know?  I finished my search and was just about to make another round when I happened to peek into the pastor's office. It was his stupid golf ball clock. It had a pendulum that caused it to move a tiny bit and over time it would occasionally slip off of its nail.  It did so and took another framed picture down with it, and golf balls exploded everywhere, which is what made the sound.  On the one hand, I'm glad there wasn't a stowaway in the church, but on the other, the clock pretty much exploded and scared the crap out of me in the process. After being poised to whale on someone with a baseball bat, picking up golf balls and bits of wood was practically anti-climactic!

5) I feel like there was more I wanted to talk about, but I can't remember it right now.  Eh, I'm an old lady, it'll come back to me at some point!