One more thing...
I talked to my Pop last night...or at least, I tried to. This is the conversation that took place when I called him.
Me: "Hi, Dad! How are things?"
Dad (sounding rushed and stressed): "I'm having a time right now."
Me: "What's wrong?"
Dad: "Your mother is having a gas attack, so I gotta go. I'll try to call you back later."
Honestly, I wonder about my family.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Not at All Christian-Like
A gal I used to work with would crack me up by yelping "That's not very Christian-like! I'm gonna pray for youuuuu!" whenever I was being bad. She'd say this as a joke because there are few people in the world with a less profane mouth than this gal. Heh! I miss working with her.
Anyway...I'm having one of those days where I don't feel at all Christian-like, in the serious sense of the word. I went to church in good spirits, but about ten minutes into the service, I lost all thoughts of love, patience, and understanding. Why? Because one of the younger members (18 or so) began coughing loudly, wetly, and vigorously. It was obvious that she wasn't bothering to cover her mouth or didn't have a cough drop at her disposal. Nor did she get up to get a drink of water. Nope, she sat there and coughed...and continued to cough...and cough...and cough....and cough. She sounded like she had either a juicy case of bronchitis or maybe TB.
Here's the thing: I'm semi-germphobic in that I don't like being around people who have an obviously contagious illness. I'm prone to going from a bad cold to pneumonia, and let me tell you, that sucks. My husband, who used to never get sick, has had half a dozen colds in as many months, courtesy of mold in his work building. Then we have several semi-frail elderly members of our church, one of whom has diminished lung capacity and another who is battling lung cancer. None of these folks needs to be exposed to the crap this gal was spraying out of her mouth every 10 to 15 seconds (yes, she was coughing that much.)
Her parents sat next to her, oblivious. And may I say stupid too? I'm sorry. That's ugly, but it's true. I like the girl, but not when she's giving an accurate portrayal of Typhoid Freaking Mary.
Sweet Baby Jesus. I'm going to hell. You betcha.
So I sat there in church, inwardly seething and thinking horrible thoughts that were not at all Christian-like. I know a cough is nearly impossible to suppress. I understand the mechanism that makes the tickle in your throat turn into a sound like a seal's bark. I'm sorry she's sick, I truly am, because she had to feel wicked bad after a solid hour of coughing. But is it too much to ask that she use a little common sense and common courtesy and stay the hell home and not infect the rest of us with her freaking germs?
By the time we left, my right eyelid was twitching, and I couldn't get my jaw to unclench. I was ashamed of myself and pissed off, all at the same time.
And now I'm grumpy. Really really grumpy.
It's too nice of a day to spend it feeling like one of the minor demons in the fourth circle of hell.
Maybe I should go back to bed.
Anyway...I'm having one of those days where I don't feel at all Christian-like, in the serious sense of the word. I went to church in good spirits, but about ten minutes into the service, I lost all thoughts of love, patience, and understanding. Why? Because one of the younger members (18 or so) began coughing loudly, wetly, and vigorously. It was obvious that she wasn't bothering to cover her mouth or didn't have a cough drop at her disposal. Nor did she get up to get a drink of water. Nope, she sat there and coughed...and continued to cough...and cough...and cough....and cough. She sounded like she had either a juicy case of bronchitis or maybe TB.
Here's the thing: I'm semi-germphobic in that I don't like being around people who have an obviously contagious illness. I'm prone to going from a bad cold to pneumonia, and let me tell you, that sucks. My husband, who used to never get sick, has had half a dozen colds in as many months, courtesy of mold in his work building. Then we have several semi-frail elderly members of our church, one of whom has diminished lung capacity and another who is battling lung cancer. None of these folks needs to be exposed to the crap this gal was spraying out of her mouth every 10 to 15 seconds (yes, she was coughing that much.)
Her parents sat next to her, oblivious. And may I say stupid too? I'm sorry. That's ugly, but it's true. I like the girl, but not when she's giving an accurate portrayal of Typhoid Freaking Mary.
Sweet Baby Jesus. I'm going to hell. You betcha.
So I sat there in church, inwardly seething and thinking horrible thoughts that were not at all Christian-like. I know a cough is nearly impossible to suppress. I understand the mechanism that makes the tickle in your throat turn into a sound like a seal's bark. I'm sorry she's sick, I truly am, because she had to feel wicked bad after a solid hour of coughing. But is it too much to ask that she use a little common sense and common courtesy and stay the hell home and not infect the rest of us with her freaking germs?
By the time we left, my right eyelid was twitching, and I couldn't get my jaw to unclench. I was ashamed of myself and pissed off, all at the same time.
And now I'm grumpy. Really really grumpy.
It's too nice of a day to spend it feeling like one of the minor demons in the fourth circle of hell.
Maybe I should go back to bed.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Massive Rambling
Yep, I’ve been a bad blogger. It’s been a long time since I updated, thanks to the wackiness otherwise known as my life. I think things are calming down a bit. Knock wood, y’all.
Speaking of wood...is Rich Lowry (of the National Review) for real? And I quote:
“A very wise TV executive once told me that the key to TV is projecting through the screen. It's one of the keys to the success of, say, a Bill O'Reilly, who comes through the screen and grabs you by the throat. Palin too projects through the screen like crazy. I'm sure I'm not the only male in America who, when Palin dropped her first wink, sat up a little straighter on the couch and said, "Hey, I think she just winked at me." And her smile. By the end, when she clearly knew she was doing well, it was so sparkling it was almost mesmerizing. It sent little starbursts through the screen and ricocheting around the living rooms of America.”
Dude. Seriously. Get some fresh air! Yeesh.
When I haven’t been laughing my butt off over the insanity that passes for our political process, I’ve been tied up with work stuff. My technical manual projects are almost done, thank God. I pulled a bunch of overtime last month just to stay on schedule because my time at work is not my own. I’m training three different people in addition to reviewing and editing the manuals, pulling and analyzing data, answering data calls, tracking hiccups and other problems, and dealing with the horror otherwise known as NSPS, our new pay-for-performance salary system. Oy vey.
I’ve been indulging my penchant for fun that doesn’t involve a computer, which is probably the only thing that has kept me relatively sane these past couple of months. Hubby and I went to The Big City to see Yo Yo Ma perform with the NC Symphony. The old cliche, it was a magical night, holds true. Picture this: you’re sitting in the darkened auditorium after clapping your hands numb at the end of the performance. Yo Yo Ma comes back out on stage, hugs a bunch of musicians, and sits down with his cello again. He begins to play softly, the notes in the lower register rolling out with somber tenderness. You hear something that raises goose bumps on your arms: voices softly singing. It’s the symphony musicians, singing quietly along with his playing, swaying in their seats, their instruments cradled in their arms. Tears well up in your eyes as the audience picks up the song---a hymn whose name still escapes me. Voices join in a soft swell as the cello’s notes spiral up and up and fly free. The universe pauses to listen, and God in His Heaven smiles because music is prayer and praise.
Yeah. It was *that* good. I’ll never forget it.
I’ve bought a sewing machine, some really nifty fabrics, and some patterns for making Halloween-themed doo-dads. I’ve been hankering for a sewing machine for a while now. I’m going to try my hand at quilting and some fabric crafts, and I might even attempt sewing clothes at some point. I didn’t do well with sewing when I was in home ec , and when my mother tried to teach me again one summer...well, let’s just say it went very, very badly. Heh! I think it’ll be fun, and it will be a good creative outlet.
Of course, getting a sewing machine means I need to set up a space for it. This weekend’s project is imposing some order on the chaos of my craft room. I should post some before & after pictures.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love my iPod? I have it plugged in my nifty docking station with speakers contraption right now, and Patty Griffin is singing “Nobody’s Crying” and giving me big ol’ goose bumps. I’ve been adding music from my own CDs, not to mention buying music & TV shows & books from iTunes. The newest version of iTunes has a feature that creates awesome playlists for you based on music you like. (Thanks, sis-in-law, for telling me about that!) My iTunes recs for y’all: Matt Kearney’s “Nothing Left to Lose” and Christina Aguilera’s “Better All the Time.” Rockin’!
Have y’all been to www.etsy.com? It’s an online ‘store’ for crafters to display and sell their goods. I’ve ordered some nifty gifts from a few artists, and I’ve been really impressed by the quality & prices. Go check it out!
Aaaaand...that’s it for now, folks!
Speaking of wood...is Rich Lowry (of the National Review) for real? And I quote:
“A very wise TV executive once told me that the key to TV is projecting through the screen. It's one of the keys to the success of, say, a Bill O'Reilly, who comes through the screen and grabs you by the throat. Palin too projects through the screen like crazy. I'm sure I'm not the only male in America who, when Palin dropped her first wink, sat up a little straighter on the couch and said, "Hey, I think she just winked at me." And her smile. By the end, when she clearly knew she was doing well, it was so sparkling it was almost mesmerizing. It sent little starbursts through the screen and ricocheting around the living rooms of America.”
Dude. Seriously. Get some fresh air! Yeesh.
When I haven’t been laughing my butt off over the insanity that passes for our political process, I’ve been tied up with work stuff. My technical manual projects are almost done, thank God. I pulled a bunch of overtime last month just to stay on schedule because my time at work is not my own. I’m training three different people in addition to reviewing and editing the manuals, pulling and analyzing data, answering data calls, tracking hiccups and other problems, and dealing with the horror otherwise known as NSPS, our new pay-for-performance salary system. Oy vey.
I’ve been indulging my penchant for fun that doesn’t involve a computer, which is probably the only thing that has kept me relatively sane these past couple of months. Hubby and I went to The Big City to see Yo Yo Ma perform with the NC Symphony. The old cliche, it was a magical night, holds true. Picture this: you’re sitting in the darkened auditorium after clapping your hands numb at the end of the performance. Yo Yo Ma comes back out on stage, hugs a bunch of musicians, and sits down with his cello again. He begins to play softly, the notes in the lower register rolling out with somber tenderness. You hear something that raises goose bumps on your arms: voices softly singing. It’s the symphony musicians, singing quietly along with his playing, swaying in their seats, their instruments cradled in their arms. Tears well up in your eyes as the audience picks up the song---a hymn whose name still escapes me. Voices join in a soft swell as the cello’s notes spiral up and up and fly free. The universe pauses to listen, and God in His Heaven smiles because music is prayer and praise.
Yeah. It was *that* good. I’ll never forget it.
I’ve bought a sewing machine, some really nifty fabrics, and some patterns for making Halloween-themed doo-dads. I’ve been hankering for a sewing machine for a while now. I’m going to try my hand at quilting and some fabric crafts, and I might even attempt sewing clothes at some point. I didn’t do well with sewing when I was in home ec , and when my mother tried to teach me again one summer...well, let’s just say it went very, very badly. Heh! I think it’ll be fun, and it will be a good creative outlet.
Of course, getting a sewing machine means I need to set up a space for it. This weekend’s project is imposing some order on the chaos of my craft room. I should post some before & after pictures.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love my iPod? I have it plugged in my nifty docking station with speakers contraption right now, and Patty Griffin is singing “Nobody’s Crying” and giving me big ol’ goose bumps. I’ve been adding music from my own CDs, not to mention buying music & TV shows & books from iTunes. The newest version of iTunes has a feature that creates awesome playlists for you based on music you like. (Thanks, sis-in-law, for telling me about that!) My iTunes recs for y’all: Matt Kearney’s “Nothing Left to Lose” and Christina Aguilera’s “Better All the Time.” Rockin’!
Have y’all been to www.etsy.com? It’s an online ‘store’ for crafters to display and sell their goods. I’ve ordered some nifty gifts from a few artists, and I’ve been really impressed by the quality & prices. Go check it out!
Aaaaand...that’s it for now, folks!
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