...AND I FEEL FINE?

I wanted to come here and wax poetic, or to be more honest, be silly about the whole COVID-19, self distancing, world grinding to a halt thing. Being silly is my brand, after all, and there is a lot of silly about the whole mess, if you stop and think about it.

Having to learn to work from home with software most people have never heard of and the mishaps associated with that? Everything nonessential being closed and us having to figure out how to amuse ourselves without the normal distractions? Hoarding toilet paper? Being relegated to your house and maybe one or two other specific locations? I mean, it sounds like bad reality television!  HOUSE ARREST! This fall on NBC!

But right now I’m not feeling so silly. I hate when I don’t feel silly, you guys, because then I get THOUGHTS. Thoughts lead to seriousness, and seriousness leads to stress eating potato chips. 

Ya know, in some ways, I don’t think it’s a bad thing, the quarantine stuff. In fact, I think maybe society might have needed it. We all spend so much time making so much noise. Work this, work that, school stuff, we gotta be at church this many days a week, oooh, let’s go to the movies, or shop, or play sports, or violin lessons, or whatever keeps us from sitting still for too long. Maybe the human race needed a reason to step back a bit and rest from the usual distractions. A relatively misunderstood, rapidly infectious disease is a shitty catalyst for that, but it is what it is, and that seems to be the only thing that could get us to slow down like we have. Kind of a crappy deal, but here we are.

There are some very terrible things about all of this, of course. The sickness and people dying of COVID-19, the healthcare system being overwhelmed, the people who are going to lose their livelihoods, the business that will fail. Relationships that will be damaged, either from too much time together or not enough time together. The not being able to be with people when they need you.

Right now my best friend is in a hospital, alone, being operated on somewhere. Maybe Tennessee. We don’t know for certain how she is or what is happening because no one at the hospital can tell her father, who can’t be with her, WTF is going on. It’s not their fault, really, because of everything that’s happening, but that doesn’t make it easier on the people who care about her. She is not doing well, and I mean that in the sense you think I mean. That is just one of the things on my mind right now.

On a personal note, and I don’t really like to admit this, it’s also so damn lonely! I never realized just how much I distract myself from that feeling. I’ve spent the last two weeks checking on people and making sure that they have what they need, and reaching out to make dumb conversations to make sure people are ok, and making sure the church can have their services online, and that people are getting paid, and doing busy work at my other job so that I will have it to go back to when this is all over, posting funny stuff online to make people laugh and etc. Now that the initial scrabbling to get adjusted is over and things are more quiet, I’m starting to realize how isolated I am. That sounds crazy after all I talked about, but working with people doesn’t make you less alone in the most basic sense. Hell, even being married doesn’t make you less lonely sometimes. My cup is getting empty, you guys.

I think that when this is all over, a lot of personal things and feelings will have changed, and I do not look forward to it.

Anyway, that is where my brain is this morning. I told you I didn’t like being serious. Now I need some potato chips.

I AM SCHRODINGER'S CAT

You know, I wasn't going to write about this.  I told myself that it would be better if I just waited to see how things turned out first, because I might not have to write anything at all, you know?  That talking about something personal, even on my own blog, might make people kind of uncomfortable.  I mean, I know that the majority of the people who read this are my friends, but still, why talk about anything before I know, right?

However, my current anxiety levels are about as maxed out as possible in my current medicated state, so I'm going to throw this out into the universe because I need to.  I'm going to be purposefully vague.  Not because I want people to guess or ask questions, but because I haven't gotten to the point where I can comfortably talk about it straightforwardly, even in theory.

Last week I became aware of a possible heath situation. I say possible, because what I noticed could be nothing.  It could also be a Bad Thing, maybe even a Really Bad Thing, and of course when faced with a potential Really Bad Thing, it's hard not to worry about it.  I was hoping it would go away, but it didn't, so I had to make an appointment with a specialist to see what is up.  They couldn't see me until this afternoon, so I've been a little freaked out for about a week now.  I've tried not to think about it, and to do stuff to take my mind off of it, but it's not an easy thing to do all the time.

See, if the Thing is nothing (and there are many types of nothing it can be) then I'm good.  If it's a Bad Thing, even just a little Bad Thing, then all kinds of things will go to hell. I would be sick. Not just sick, but Sick. I've pretty much gone through the scenario in my head already, and so many things would change and I'm not on board with that. At all. My biggest fear is that people would be uncomfortable and wouldn't know how to talk to me and I'd be avoided right when I needed them the most, or that they'd start seeing me as a "Sick Person" instead of just seeing me as me. I'm aware that real friends don't do those kinds of things, but it is a fear I have, OK?! 

I know that I should be positive and believe that until I know for sure what is going on I shouldn't worry.  I know that.  However, right now it feels too uncertain.  I very much don't want to be sick.  I am scared.

Maybe it really will turn out to be nothing and all of this worrying is supremely silly and all of you can point and laugh and thing "Wow, she sure gets worked up about nothing, doesn't she?." I certainly hope so.  I'll let you know one way or the other.

So, if you have a minute today, could you please put some good vibes out there for me?  I would appreciate it.

BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY: JERSEY GIRL EDITION - MAY 18, 2017

I had one job.

Ok, I had more than one job, but I had one important job and I screwed it up. I am worthless.

When Steve invited me to go on this trip, he basically left it up to me to figure out what we were going to do when we went to New York City. I'm not good at that sort of thing, because I am always worried I'll pick things to do that he won't enjoy, but I was determined to do it this time to prove I was at least capable of it and so that we could have a fun day.  I got some advice from a friend who'd beenhere before, and although I didn't schedule everything down to the minute (that kind of thing isn't any fun) I did have a list of what we'd do when we got there.  I also asked Steve to pick one thing he'd like to do, and he managed to get us tickets to see Phantom if the Opera at the Majestic Theater on Broadway, so all we had to do was work around our 2:00 curtain time for whatever else we did. Easy peasy!

Well...

As I've said, where we are staying isn't a big city or even a big town.  It's a bit of an extended suburb with businesses and homes, but not much else that I could find. The one thing that seemed to be perfect (and I mentioned it earlier) was that it had a train station with a direct train that would go straight into the city.  It was less than a 10 minute drive away from our hotel and should make getting to where we needed to go simple.  That was the cornerstone of my plan and we set off with the expectation that we'd be getting into NYC by 9:45 am.  

After a tiny GPS hiccup, we found the station nestled in the middle of a neighborhood full of houses. It was a lovely, clean, landscaped place and set me to ease at once about the NJ transit system. However, we figured out pretty darn quick that the town of Short Hills, NJ (or whatever this place calls itself) didn't want us, or seemingly anyone who didn't live there, riding on their train. There was no place for us to park. Every single parking lot we found was only for residents. You had to have a sticker to park there. On the street the parking was only for an hour or two hours, and although we parked illegally for a few minutes to look at our phones to figure out what to do, we couldn't find clue of what a visitor was supposed to do or where to go.  To be fair, and I'm determined to be fair, maybe we missed something obvious, but from where we sat, it was pretty clear we weren't going to be able to get on that train. Had we known this situation before hand, we could have called a cab, or an Uber to have brought us out there, but we didn't and time was by now slipping past quickly. We just sat there trying to figure out what to do. I felt terrible and wanted to cry because I hadn't made a contingency plan. I'd screwed up! The day hadn't even started, and I had already put us in a bad spot. Sigh.

Steve saved the day by finding that we could take a ferry into the city, but we had to drive through New Jersey to get to the port. Granted, there might have been an easier way, but for two people as unaware of public transportation and such as we are, we couldn't find it.  So we set off.  We figured if the muppets can take Manhattan, so could we!  ONWARD!!!!

Driving through New Jersey is a little like driving in Atlanta, if Atlanta were full of angry vikings that have a grudge against you, all driving SUV's like they are in a demolition derby, and if Atlanta was on fire and located in an unused corner of hell. WTF, people? I've been in traffic before, bad traffic even, but this was a different animal all together. Lanes would merge without warning, people just edge in front of you at ridiculous speeds, and sometimes they'd ride next to you in a single lane just to get in front of you. All I can say is that the people up here drive like assholes. A middle finger to them all! Also, WTF are toll lanes supposed to be?!  You go through the gate, and there are no lines past that, so everyone is just in one FUBAR knot of vehicles trying to weave into lines that barely exist!  Seriously, W. T. F?  That is NOT an efficient way to do things!  Steve was the real hero that day. I'm honestly surprised that he didn't get fed up with me twitching and squeaking in abject fear the whole time and just kick me out of the car and into moving traffic, but thankfully he didn't and after what seemed to be an eternity in some gothic netherworld of punishment for past traffic violations, we made it to Port Imperial. Whew.

I like riding on boats. :)

We finally made it into the midtown area on the ferry and started walking. It was hot, but not terrible, and we figured out where we were and where we were going pretty quickly. There was so much to see, and so many people.  It was a constant stream of sensory input coming from very side. I'm not sure where we started out, but we made our way through the streets and headed to Times Square. I'd never seen anything like it! There was so much going on, and unfortunately, although I try hard not to, I apparently stand out very clearly as a tourist. I mean, it isn't like I'm waving a selfie stick around and I'm not wearing a t-shirt that says where I'm from. I assume it's because of my wide eyed, mouth open stare as I looked around me.  Steve doesn't have this problem.  Steve looks mean and intimidating. Me? I look like a sucker, I guess.  Sigh.  We were approached many times by people who wanted to "give" us things...for a donation. We lied and said we weren't carrying cash, and those people snatched back their things and disappeared, thank goodness.  I didn't want their CDs anyway.  There were a lot of  "characters" on Times Square that you can take your pictures with if you want to pay. Two topless girls wearing body paint, a kind-of Mickey Mouse, a kind-of Elmo and the like. No thank you, please! I just want to be left alone to stare at things with my mouth open, if you don't mind!  At some point we apparently offended a local guy who was trying to talk to us. I was called rude by a New Yorker! I'm not sure if I should be ashamed or proud! Haha.

We walked across Broadway and we made our way to Rockefeller Center! I got to see the weird gold guy (Prometheus, apparently)  in person! I also learned that Steve doesn't like to take selfie pictures with me because it is "too hard'" so...well, ok, then. Nice. We went into the Comcast Building and looked around for a bit. We got tickets to Top of the Rock, another recommendation by someone in the know.  It's easier to get tickets to that than the Empire State Building and the view is just as good! We didn't actually have to wait that long to go up, thank goodness, and it was totally worth it!  I usually don't like heights, even in buildings, but I was fascinated at the view! There was so much to see and I took lots of pictures. A nice man offered to take some pictures of me since he saw me struggling to take a selfie with the buildings in the background.  I also managed to get in a couple of pictures with Steve, so maybe years from now people won't assume I was in New York by myself. Screw not wanting to take pictures with me!  I'd climb on his back and shanghai his damn phone if I had to. >:(  We stood up there for some time and I was duly impressed! New York is pretty freaking neato.

When we descended from the top, we decided get something to eat, and I'm pretty sure that saved us from being in a very bad place later on. I wasn't that hungry, and had it been up to me we would have just grabbed something quick so we could go back outside, but Steve was determined we should eat in a sit down place instead of just grabbing a snack. We found a burger place in the basement of the Comcast Building and had lunch. When we were done, We stopped and took some pictures of the Atlas statue and St. Peter's Cathedral, and started to notice a lot of sirens and emergency vehicles going by. At that point, we were walking towards the theater where we had tickets to see the show. We knew we would be a little early, but didn't want to run the risk of missing anything. However, when we were trying to walk towards 7th avenue we kept getting blocked by police.  No explanation, just that we couldn't walk that way. We wound up at an intersection where a crowd of people were standing and a veritable tangle of emergency vehicles, black SUVs and police were gathered, but we couldn't tell what was going on. We we were just told we couldn't go any further. Time was getting close for us to be at the theater, but we were told that the entire street was closed. We practically ran down every street and kept getting blocked, but I was determined to get Steve to the theater to do the one thing that he'd shown interest in! We finally found a place to cross over, which was several blocks from where we needed to be, but we made it just in the nick of time to pick up our tickets. It wasn't until we were waiting in line to get into the theater that we found out about the terrible accident that had happened in Times Square. It was then that I realized that had we not stopped to eat, there was a very good chance we would have been where that guy plowed through the pedestrians. I'm not saying we would have been hurt, but we probably would gave seen it happen, so thank goodness for Steve being hungry! I feel terrible about those people who got hurt, and the girl who was killed.  I hope none of the people who were hit were the people trying to give us stuff this morning.  I'm also glad, as much as you can say glad in a situation like this, that the guy wasn't a terrorist. We realized that might have been why the FBI (Steve recognized the black SUVs) had been called in, because cars running into crowds of pedestrians has been the MO of a lot of terrorist situations around the world.  Ugh. So far I managed to screw up the transportation and almost made us witness, if not an actual part, to a horrible accident.  Maybe I'm not the greatest travel director in the world.

We had very nice seats in the theater and the play was really amazing. I'd seen Phantom performed in Nashville by a touring company years ago, but seeing it again in a much more intimate setting was great! I'm very familiar with the story, but I have to say that this was the first time that the Phantom really creeped me out. I have also realized that now I am more fascinated with the props, costumes and stage "magic" than I am with the acting (although it was great, but my eye for technical and practical effects was much more keen.)  It was late afternoon when we got out, and we were going to take a Circle Line Tour, but we'd just missed the last boat before the night cruises began, and since we were exhausted, filthy (seriously, that city is very dirty), and still had to drive back to Short Hills, we ended up leaving. I would love to go back sometime when we didn't have anything planned and just wander the city. Find some good hole in the wall places to eat and see the museums, but you have to have a whole lot more time to do it than one day! It was a fun adventure of a day, except for the drunk driver situation.  I do like New York, but I'll need to get to know it better before I know if I heart it!

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) The other day I was having a conversation about death.

Oh, yeah, sorry, this is an odd one.

Anyway, I was having a conversation about death and my friend said that (in the full course of time, obvs) he hoped his wife would die before him.  I was a little shocked, but he said that he was worried that his wife would be sad if she was left alone and he was worried about her being taken care of financially.  So...even though that sounds kind of awful, I suppose it's chivalrous in a creepy, morbid sort of way.

As for me, this conversation pretty much revealed that I am a complete narcissist. I thought about it a minute and I realized that I don't mind going first, if that's what has to happen.  I know Steve can take care of himself given the opportunity, and I can't be 100% certain he won't meet his next wife at my funeral (the time between being a widower and getting remarried with people I know seems to be short these days.) So, you know, mozel tov and all that, because I know he'll probably be OK.  My problem is that life will go on and I won't be there and it'll be just fine.

Not that I'd want people to do the whole sackcloth and ashes bit, or anything like that (she felt compelled to explain) and I'd want everyone I know to be happy and fulfilled and all, but the idea that you can just die and life goes on and people who love you can just go on and live perfectly fine without you is sad to me in a way.  It's kind of a weird feeling because I know in my heart that I'd want everyone I love to be happy and live good lives, but this selfish little part of me hates the idea of  being a footnote.  Of course, I kind of have that fear while being alive too, I guess.  You know, when you have friends and they lose touch, and then you only realize years later than they were OK without you even though you both existed in the same point in time and could have been in contact easily?  Buuuuuut, I also have a very bad habit of overestimating my importance in situations and relationships, so I can kind of see where all this comes from! :)

Haha, I don't mean for this to be depressing, I swear, I was just really surprised at myself for feeling like that.  I don't think I'd ever thought about it in those terms much before.  I suppose you never get too old to learn things about yourself, but damn, I wish it had been a nicer thing to learn!

So, you know, if I die, don't forget about me.  Please. Ok?  :)

2) You'll be completely uninterested in knowing that I finally changed my profile picture on my Facebook account to one that had been taken recently! I feel guilty about it because Butler was in my old picture and it feels disloyal to take that once down.  Good Lord, loving a pet can do weird things to a person.

I'm sure Butler wouldn't mind.  (Bear, on the other hand, would have been PISSED.)

3) Saturday afternoon Steve and I went to a a joint concert for the Georgia Brass Band and the Huntsville Brass Band.  We don't usually go to things like this unless Steve is playing in it, but this was a special concert because my former band director would be playing in the Georgia Brass Band and he invited a bunch of his former students!

Let me clarify.  I had 3 band directors.  My first one had been there since the 60s and she got tired of it and switched over to teaching computer classes.  My second one was very nice and was only there for a year because of the kind of political BS that seems to follow teachers around like the plague, and my third one was a pervert who made me not like being in the band.  The one who was playing on Saturday was my second band director.

Anyway, so Steve and I went to hear them play.  Unfortunately for him, none of the other students showed up.  Just me.  I felt bad because he sounded so excited about being able to see his old students and it looked like a lot of them were eager to come to the concert, but all he got was me.  Eh, oh well.  The music was really great, and we found out when we got there that quite a few people in Huntsville's Brass Band were people we'd traveled to Ireland with last year, so it was nice seeing them again.  I got to talk with my teacher after his first set and after the concert all together and catch up a bit.  He is doing very well, although I found out that he was only a band director for two years in total.  One year at our school and one year in Georgia.  Apparently, he loved the music and teaching part, but hated the politics.  So he went back to school and he runs a small internet hosting company now.  Good for him!

There was one fairly unsettling thing that I realized while we were talking.  He's a trumpet player who has played for years and plays in volunteer type bands. He was always a fairly quiet, soft spoken man.  He also worked for several years in cyber security before switching over to another IT career.  As I stood there and watched as he chatted with Steve, I realized that essentially I married my high school band director.

Now I have to reevaluate my life.

4) Did you know that pineapples are suddenly a thing now?  I don't mean the actual fruit, but they are appearing on a lot of homegoods and patterns. Also, you can find lots of different kinds of pineapples to set around your house, inside and out. This is going to make things confusing for a whole subset of people. Silver lining, it could lead to people making some interesting new friends! ; )

THIS JOB

I've complained about my job a bit in the past.  I don't like to do it much, because I know that I've got kind of a sweet gig here. The hours are decent, what I do is not hard, and most people here seem to think I'm really good at my job and they bring me snacks.  I'm grateful for that, absolutely.  As long as I am safely inside the building, I'm usually good.  Working here has been an interesting experience, and I say that with true sincerity.

But sometimes this place is really freaking weird.

Don't get me wrong, our church is a great place.  We have a loving and close congregation, and it's one of the few southern baptist churches left in our town that have held off on flashy stage lights, worship bands and tattooed preachers.  We are an old school place, with old school members, and with few exceptions that's not such a bad thing. Lately, however, we seem to have wondered into a bubble of complete bat-poop crazy that seems to be holding fairly steady.

*In the past week and a half, as I already told you, we had a guy who was working for us get held up at gunpoint. Our preacher, who decided to pretend to be Barney Fife, started casing the neighborhood for the man, and actually found him and managed to get him arrested.  The man is now being held not only for armed robbery, but also possession and he had a warrant out for him because of domestic violence.  We are glad the guy is in jail, but I'm also very glad the preacher didn't get capped.  This neighborhood isn't good for snitches.

 *A few days later, we had a drunk man stumble up the aisle of the sanctuary (saying all he wanted to do was pray) but he also wanted someone to buy him a pizza. 

*We had one of our special members, a man with a form of autism, have a complete come apart when the worker from his group home asked him to sit with the other men he came to church with. It disrupted things.

*We had a lady trip over the lip of the doorway and lay in the floor, flat on her back, until I called 911 (again) even though she wasn't hurt and refused treatment when the paramedics got here.  Her sister, a fruit-bat of the first order who believes that she is some kind of long-lost mother goddess who will eventually go to Africa to save children (?) and believes that the African people will see her as royalty, told us she was in the medical field (she is not) and so she would take care of everything (she did not.)  By the way, the sister also told us that she could cure AIDS and cancer with common household ingredients, but she can't tell anyone how to do it or the government will have her killed. I'm not kidding about any of that, just so you know.

*The same man who showed up drunk and wanted a pizza came back here today while the preacher was gone, so I had to talk to him. He didn't remember that he'd just been here asking for stuff, and even though I told him we had nothing to give him, as we are having to reevaluate how we handle things after the armed robbery, he wouldn't leave.  I had to tell him about six times that we couldn't help him.  He also had a tall tale of woe, which I suppose was supposed to make me throw money at him. No idea.

*I was inadvertently pulled in, at least tangentially, to a situation where a man from our church (allegedly) defrauded and was attempting to take over the life/money of a mentally challenged woman. I have had to talk to an investigator for the Huntsville SVU, and will have to give over copies of my notary records, because I notarized the form that would allow him to do this.  I know I can't get in trouble for what I did, but the fact that that skeezy dude got me involved makes me mad.

*And finally, today, one of our more...out there, for want to better term, members came by the church three times.  She didn't say what she was doing, but that's OK, because we know her and she comes by occasionally to pray.  She'd come in, walk into the church, walk back out.  On her second visit, she came into the office and asked if I wanted an apple.  I said yes to be nice, and she left the plastic produce bag with me so I could choose one while she disappeared into the depths of the church again.  When she came back, she told me to keep all of them.  Uh...sure.  She came back one more time, walked back into the church without saying hello and left without saying goodbye.  Huh...OK then!  I didn't think about her again for a while, except to tell people about the weird apple thing, until I walked into the sanctuary to load the pastor's Wednesday night Power Point Presentation.  That's when I noticed that she'd left apples on the altar.  I don't think I need tell you that, as Southern Baptists, we don't generally leave offerings of a tangible nature on the altar, but for some reason this lady had been compelled to leave produce there for Jesus.  I suppose that's who it was for, at least.  She didn't leave a note or anything.  So that's when I realized that she had given me some of the apples she'd brought for Jesus.  She gave me sacrifice apples.  I don't even know where to begin on that one.

These are all real things that have happened in the last 10 days, and it doesn't even scratch the surface of the crazy that goes on here on a regular basis.  I may need to look for other work.

Everyday is an adventure.

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) Wow, happy new year about half a month late!  I hope you all had lovely Christmases, or whatever it is you celebrate!

Ours was lovely and very low key, thanks for asking.  Steve's dad was in New England with his brother this year, so Steve and I really only celebrated things with my family on Christmas day.  It was nice, though.  I certainly don't mind quiet holidays.  At home I made elaborate Christmas cookies and we watched Netflix junk, and I think we ate pizza rolls for dinner.  Good times, noodle salad.

2) Not a lot of any interest has been going on lately, to be honest.  Time keeps on slippin' (slippin', slippin') into the future, as it tends to do. I had so much I was going to do in January, but it's like I fell asleep on January 1st and woke up and half the month was already gone, so I'm playing catch up as best I can.  Time is weird that way when we get older, isn't it?

At work, I've got all the lovely beginning of the year mess to deal with.  W2 and 1099 forms are due and I haven't even started them, which means people are going to be breathing down my face soon if I don't get started on that!  We have new budget sheets and new pay spreadsheets, and it's really only sucking the life out of me a little bit every time I think of all of that.  I've also been sick for about a week, which is never fun.

3) WHEN SUDDENLY...

Hehe, just about the time I hit save after writing #2, the door to the church opened and a workman who'd been installing cables for us walked back inside the office.  He said there had been a man outside that had a gun and had asked him for his wallet.  I didn't really understand the problem at first, because the guy was kind of calm, so I said, "Do you want me to call the police?"  He said yes.  Of course he said yes.  I'm a doofus.

- OK, before you roll your eyes, I knew I should call the police, but I wasn't sure if I needed to call 911, or if I needed to call the other, non-emergency number.  The guy was obviously OK and the man had run away, so I wasn't sure if 911 was the proper people to call. I also didn't realize that the workman had actually been robbed, because he didn't say that.  I thought the guy had pulled a gun on him and then got spooked away.  Clearly, my brain was working slower than it needed to at that moment.-

So I called 911 for the first time in my life.  That's another one of those F*CK THAT list items you never want to have to do.  I didn't really know what to tell the operator, so I handed off the phone and went to tell the pastor what had happened. We also had to tell the women's prayer group that was meeting downstairs, what had happened and that they couldn't leave just yet.  One poor woman had left early, and she was the one walking out the door when the robber was just leaving, so that scared her badly and even though she saw the guy, she wasn't here when the cops arrived.

I was surprised how fast everything happened after that.  We soon had a bunch of cops and a K9 unit here.  They set up a perimeter in the neighborhood and went looking for the guy.  I was very impressed with the man who actually was robbed.  He was very calm, a good observer, was able to tell the cops what he looked like, and the exact model of gun he had used. Apparently the guy is a gun enthusiast and knew specifically what the guy had.  He was also able to keep his head when the guy held him up.  The workman was on a ladder when the guy (who had walked by twice before and asked for change and was told no) came back up with the gun. The workman, who's name was TJ so I'll just call him that, took out his wallet and only handed him the cash inside instead of handing over his whole wallet. 

I'm not sure how long all of this took. I stayed outside with the pastor and TJ until things settled down. We asked all the ladies to leave while the police were still here, and believe it or not, TJ went back and finished up our install!  I think what happened finally settled into TJ's head after it was over, because he seemed to be more nervous afterwards.  Poor guy. The police haven't caught the robber, as far as we know.  Of course, now we're all super vigilant about the people we see and who we let inside the building.  There had been an active shooter situation in this neighborhood on Monday, but our office had been closed for MLK day.  Things seem to be getting worse around here and I'm not feeling as safe as I wish I did.

So that was our excitement!  May the rest of the year be just as exciting, but maybe in good ways instead of bad ones.

Yeah, I think I'm going to start seriously looking for another job.

4) Steve is officially a deacon now!  They did the voting last week and all three men considered were voted in.  It's all very weird to me.  I mean, I'm proud of him for taking on the role and all that, but I certainly don't feel like someone who should be married to a deacon.  People keep telling me that now I have to behave myself.  Maybe they're kidding, but I don't know for sure. I didn't sign up for this, Steve did.  Personally, I think I'll just keep on being whoever and whatever the hell I want, but that's just me. So now I feel like I should go out and do something rebellious and not-at-all deacon's-wifely!  We'll see how it goes from there. :)

AN ADDENDUM

OK, so I let my nerd rage get away from me yesterday.  Feel my shame.

I SAID FEEL IT!

I realized this morning that I had not, as previously stated, seen the original, hand written, lyrics to "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" by Robert May which proved Gene Autry changed the name Donder to Donner in the song.

So I did some digging.

What I had actually seen was the original, hand written draft of the poem "A Visit From St. Nicholas," or as most of us know it, "Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clarke Moore (or whoever. Apparently there is a controversy over who actually wrote it, but that's not important right now.)

Whoever wrote it was the person to give the reindeer we all know and love the names we use in popular culture (Rudolph not included, obvs.)  I looked back at the draft, and sure enough, the name was Donder, like I thought.  HOWEVER, when the song "Rudolph" was written, Robert May used an alternate spelling of Donder, which happens to be Donner, and ergo, it isn't a mistake.

Also, there are two other alternate spellings for both Donder and Blitzen: Dunder and Blixem, which are Dutch words for thunder and lightening respectively.

I did not know this!  Dogs and cats, living together, MASS HYSTERIA.

So, basically, I was wrong and have been humbled and Christmas is ruined.

via GIPHY

; )

HUH...

I know that I don't have any right to say anything about the election.  I didn't vote.  I couldn't.  I know that sounds stupid, if not downright reprehensible, to a lot of people, but I couldn't, with good conscience, support either candidate.  My gut didn't trust Hillary Clinton, and my brain didn't trust Donald Trump. 

I struggled with it. I didn't want to be one of those people who just couldn't make a decision, but I couldn't see how either one would be good. I felt guilty about not going, but I didn't want to just go and vote for the sake of getting a sticker so I could post a selfie, either.  I also wasn't going to let anyone shame me into making an empty gesture, because screw that noise.  The world is full of empty gestures, you know?  If I'm going to get behind something, I want to believe in it with some conviction and not just because it's the "thing to do."

Last night I was alone, bored, and not feeling particularly well. I think if I'd had someone to watch the election results with, I might have done so, but instead I went to bed early.  I kept up with some of the results online until I got sleepy.

When I woke up this morning, I was truly unprepared to find out that Donald Trump had won this election.
I genuinely thought Hillary Clinton was going to win.  I really did.  Whether or not I trusted her, she at least had some experience.  I can't say I'm sorry she lost, but I can say I'm confused that she lost.

So for better or for for worse this living muppet, Donald Trump, is our new president.  I honestly hope it isn't the disaster that it very well could turn into.  All of this really blows my mind.

So...yeah.  God bless America.

POSTAL

 I got the weirdest thing in the mail the other day.  I've been kind of hesitant to talk about it because I had to check it out first, but as far as I can tell it's nothing nefarious, just strange. 
I got home from work the other day and saw a package sitting on our stoop.  I had been waiting on a package, so I was expecting to open it and find a bunch of art supplies I had ordered.  Instead, the box was full of packing peanuts and a wooden box that had an envelope sitting on top. I had never seen anything packaged like that before, but I'd never ordered anything from this particular company before, either.  I opened the envelope, thinking it would contain a packing slip, but it was a letter that started out "Dear Kelly." OK, then, maybe it was a very friendly art supply company. 

The letter was long and kind of hard to read because the handwriting was very cramped, but I figured out right away it wasn't a packing slip of any kind.  It was from a guy named Tom, and it said he didn't know me, but he needed to warn me, and he'd been given my name.  He said he needed to relieve himself of a terrible burden and turn away from his memories of "this terrible woman." It also said that fate had its reasons for wanted me to hear the story.  It didn't make a lot of sense, but it sounded like a warning.  I thought I'd been the recipient of some kind of chain mail, but it didn't tell me to pass anything on.  Like I said, it was weird. 

 I immediately started to document everything I did from that point on for Twitter, because if I'm going to wind up with a human organ, a box of bees, or anthrax I want people who know me to know how it went down.  There are too many people who'd think I was up to shenanigans were I to be found dead with something like that on me.  The next step was to actually open the box, which I was hesitant to do.  I was home alone!  The box look like it had been left over from some kind of old industrial use and it didn't give me a clue of what it was and it could have had anything in it! 

 I managed to pry it open (and it wasn't bees, thank goodness) and it was full of old newspaper packing.  Underneath that was an old book with a burn or stain on the cover, a metal thing with symbols on it, and a missing poster of some kid I'd never heard of. 

I was grateful it wasn't anything disgusting or dangerous in there, but still...WTF?  The newspapers didn't give any info away, because it was just classified ads that didn't seem to be specific to one place, and the book was all scribbled in and full of newspaper clippings.

I didn't really know what to do with all this.  I mean, I've always wanted to get a package in the mail that had some kind of mystery in it, but I had always thought it would be something Indiana Jones-esque where I'd have to grab my passport and fly to some other place to solve a mystery.  This was more like someone with a weird nephew who had gone nuts needed to get rid of evidence!  Still, though, I was intrigued.  Tom had evidently known someone I knew, so why not send it to me, right?  I still got my cool mystery box from an unknown sender, so I was kind of digging it, creepy or not!

I finally managed to read the book, which turned out to be a journal of some kid who evidently thought he was either haunted by a ghost, or possessed by something.  The newspaper clippings were obits, apparently from the same family of people, but I still haven't put it all together yet.  I guess it could be a joke of some kind, but it's really freaking elaborate, and I don't know anyone who'd go to that much trouble to play a prank on me.  I'm still trying to go through everything and see if I can figure out what's going on.  I haven't gotten anything else from Tom, so maybe this is it?  We'll see!

I'll let you know if I figure anything else out about this! 

WTF, MATE?!

I just got a Facebook invite from a woman I go to church with for one of those online selling-things parties.

You've probably gotten an invitation for one of them before, for nail polish, or monogrammed bags or some such thing.  I don't usually participate in these things, mainly because I don't have the money to throw down on overpriced junk jewelry or iffy weight loss products.

But the invitation I just got wasn't for any of those things.  This lady invited me to a, uh...toy party.  An adult oriented toy party.

A lady from my church just invited me to an online sex toy party! Whaaaaaaa?!

OK, I'm not a prude and I don't have problems with people either having these parties nor buying things from these kinds of parties.  I'm not offended or anything like that.

But a lady from my church inviting me to something like this is weird...isn't it?  It's not just me?  Please tell me it isn't just me that finds that odd.

OK, let's say I "attend" this party (it's only online, so I wouldn't actually have to get face to face with a group of Southern Baptist ladies all discussing the merits of different sexy time stuff, thank God) and bought fuzzy handcuffs, sexy lingerie, or any of the plethora of things that vibrate, restrain or is described as "life-like?"*  I know how these online parties work!  You have to put in your name and address, and the person hosting this party would see the order!  She would know what I bought, and then she'd know too much!  She'd see me at church and know!

 I will let this cat demonstrate my initial reaction.

Look, I don't care what people do as long as it's consensual and enjoyed by both parties, but I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with anyone in my church family knowing what I kept in my personal "toy box." 

I'm sure that in about half an hour I'll find this hilarious.

* Yes, I know all of those things are available because I looked at the website.  I couldn't really believe that was what the invitation was for so I checked for myself.  I was wrong.