My Day

by Sheryl


My Sunday started out to be a very promising day. I was up before 8, so I had time to do some laundry before church. I went over to the laundry room and found it to be absolutely foul. A couple of the washers leaked again, people threw lint on the floor in the water to make a linty, icky mess, and some cretin stubbed his cigarret out in the change slot of one of the washers. Still, though, I managed to find a couple washers and loaded my laundry. Well, when I went over to put my clothes in the dryer, the coin slot jammed on one of the dryers. I had to put two loads of laundry into one dryer, since there was only that one other open. My laundry didn't quite get dry enough, and it is currently spread out on the living room floor.

So then I go to get in the shower, something I do at least once a day, every day. You would think that by now I would have mastered the art of climbing into the tub. You would think wrong. The side of my tub is really high, like above my knee high (the bottom of the tub is elevated about 8 inches off the ground). I missed getting my foot all the way over the side, and smacked it into the edge of the tub instead. It hurt, but it wasn't until I tried to move it and realized that that hurts a whole, awful lot that I realized that I probably broke my toe (if I'm lucky - HA!) or my foot (if I'm not - which when you read the rest of the story you will realize that is probably my fate). Still, I've broken toes and feet before, and I'm OK with that - not much you can do about it, anyway.

Well, I get dressed and leave for church, leaving my cell phone behind (remember that, as it is a key part of the story). I get out on the road and realize that my ball joints sound really, really bad now, so I decide to skip church and take my car to the car fixing place instead. Well, just as I got to the place where I turn on to the street where the car fixing place and my office are, I felt a huge thump and the right side of my car dropped and started smoking. I managed to get into the parking lot shared by a pizza place and Taco Bell.

A guy standing at a bus stop tried to help me change the tire (at this point, that was all that appeared to be the problem). He tried to loosen my lug nuts, but they were on too tight and ended up stripping my lug nut loosening thing (I'm all about the technical terms today). So I thanked him for trying to help me, then went to Taco Bell to ask for a phone book and to use the phone. It was probably about 11:20 at this point. They wouldn't let me use the phone, but they would call someone for me. I gave her my boss's number, because I had to work today (that's where I am now), but there was no answer. I didn't have my cell phone, so I had no one else's number (I had to look his number up). So I looked up a few other numbers, but rather than have the counter person there do my bidding all afternoon, I went to the pay phone at Albertson's, which is in the same parking lot. Keep in mind that it is about 95 degrees and I am dressed in church clothes (fortunately, I brought my tennis shoes with me, because the only pair of sandals I could find this morning hurt my feet). I called my boss's office phone and left him a message, then I tried to call a co-worker who I knew was in the office, but I couldn't remember his extension. Finally, I called this emergency assistance place here. They do simple stuff like unlocking cars (remember that), jumping batteries, and changing tires. Well, that guy got there fairly quickly, but he couldn't loosen the lugs either (and honestly, didn't try that hard) and told me I had to call a tow company.

By this point, I'm pretty much drenched in sweat, but I went back to Taco bell to use their phone book again. A couple was in the restaurant heard me telling the counter person about my plight, and he offered to try to change the tire for me. I told him what the RA guy said, and said I was just going to call a tow truck. They left while I was looking up numbers, but then the wife came back in and said that her husband wanted to take a crack at the wheel anyway. I agreed (because, really, who wouldn't if they could save $86 bucks on the 3/4 mile trip to the car fixing place). He pulled two different lug wrenches out of his trunk, and with a combination of willpower, weight, and skill, he managed to loosen the bolts (I had to stand on one end of the lug wrench to do it.). He changed the tire, and I thought all was well.

The couple's names were Alfred and Coretta, and I'd appreciate it if those of you who are of a praying persuasion that God that they were there for me today, and pray for Alfred's continued recovery from a stroke he suffered a few months ago.

Well, I got in the car, started it up, and put it in gear. I made it about two feet before the wheel fell off. Yeah, the ball joint totally broke. So now I had to call a tow truck. So I walked back to Albertson's, called the first number on my list (thank God I had some laundry money left), and she told me that they were really busy, and she couldn't even dispatch a truck for at least an hour. I called the other two numbers, and got no answer, despite the fact that they advertised 24-hour towing. I'm in tears at this point, and called my boss's work phone and sobbed into his voicemail. Then I went into Albertson's and used their phone book to get the number of the car fixing place to find out if they had a towing company they frequently used. They did, and I called them and sobbed to the lady on the phone. She said that she would get a truck out as soon as possible. That's when it started to rain.

So I walked through the parking lot in the rain back to my car, where I discovered...I locked my keys in the car. At this point, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, so I did a little of both. I went into Taco Bell and ordered a Pepsi so I could sit in the restaurant while I waited for the tow truck. As I went into the restaurant, I passed a mother and her son waiting for the rain to stop for them to get to the car, and the little boy asked his mother, "Mama, what's wrong with that lady?" Yeah, I was looking rough at that point.

Well, the tow truck arrived and I informed the driver that I had a slight problem. He did not have any lock-out stuff with him, but he suggested I go and ask the pizza place if they had a hanger so that we could maybe unlock the door through a slightly open window. The did, and we worked on it for about 25 minutes...until the hanger broke. So then I had to call the roadside assistance people again, and the same guy came. He said to me, "You aren't having a good day, are you?" I wanted to smack him.

By this point, I'm drenched with sweat, dehydrated, and miserable. Keep in mind I still have to work, and that I haven't been able to find anyone to give me a ride to work. The tow truck guy said he take me to my office after we dropped off my car. That was nice of him.

When we got to the car fixing place, my boss showed up just about a minute or two later. I wanted to cry with relief. Then I went into work and worked 9 hours on a proposal that was supposed to be due tomorrow and has now been extended until Friday.





Most of the above was written yesterday, but I didn't have the stamina to finish it until today. The previous post tells you how things stand right now.


Sigh.

OK, Blogosphere. It's time for another round of Run Sheryl's Life.

Here is the situation. My car is broken (watch for the post about the whole, sad affair later). It will cost about $700 to fix. It is 10 years old and has 152,000 miles on it. The Blue Book Value is $852.

I got in touch with a car dealership, and they were apparently able to work out financing for me. I don't know the details yet, but I do know what payment I can afford easily, and I know how much my insurance would go up buying full-coverage insurance. I can afford a note, but it scares me nonetheless, and my world will be considerably less comfortable, especially if I need to find a new apartment in December (because my rent will increase by about $150 a month for any place that isn't scary).

So, what should I do? Should I repair the car (keeping in mind that I may need to get another, similar repair relatively soon)? Should I wait to make a decision after I talk to the dealer? Should I just give up and to figure out the insane public transportation in Baton Rouge?

It's times like this that I wish my dad were still around.

Life sucks. That's all I have to say right now. I will say more later, though.

So True

You Are Scooter

Brainy and knowledgable, you are the perfect sidekick. You're always willing to lend a helping hand. In any big event or party, you're the one who keeps things going. "15 seconds to showtime!"

The Muppet Personality Test

If you don't believe in the importance of proofreading, perhaps this will change your mind...

So I've been thinking about cars lately. Mostly because the time has come where I absolutely must get mine fixed, or I must get a new car. I'm almost afraid to drive it in it's current state (I need new ball joints and control arms - which are apparently attached on my car, or I'd only need the ball joints). If my building manager will let me pay my rent a week late (with attendant late fees, of course), I can get it fixed at the end of the month thanks to the buttload of overtime I'm about to have. I really am afraid to wait much longer than that.

 

But I've been contemplating looking for something new, or new-used. I really can't afford a car payment right at this moment (at least not if I want to keep up the same pace I am with my other debts), but it might be better to think about a car that wasn't going to nickle-and-dime me over the next year until I can afford a car payment. After all, my car is 10 years old and has 151K on it. In addition to the ball joints, I need a belt, a thermostat, and an air conditioning compressor.

 

So I've been looking mainly at the Toyota Yaris, the Honda Fit, and the Chevy Aveo. They are all reasonably priced, all are small but not cramped, and all get good mileage. They all have their own drawbacks, however, the most prominent being that almost no features are standard - including AC. Living in Louisiana without AC in your car is a Very Bad Idea, but to get AC, you have to get a whole bunch of other things you don't want or need, like an mp3 player adapter (I don't have an mp3 player, and I only listen to NPR in the car anyway).

 

The other thing that bothers me is that a lot of cars have the spedometer mounted in the middle of the dash (between the driver and the passenger) instead of behind the steering wheel where it belongs. You have to take you eyes off the road a lot longer to look at spedometer over there than you do if it is right in front of you.

 

I'm also looking at used cars, and if I go that route, I'd like either a Camry or a Corrola. The only problem is that people who buy those cars hold on to them for so long that by the time they come on the used market, they aren't much good.

 

Any other suggestions out there? I'm looking for a relatively small car, that gets good mileage but isn't a hybrid, that is reliable, and that won't break me financially.

Supposedly, this is what I would look like on the Simpsons. Eh. Maybe. The hair and eyes are pretty spot on, at least.

Just Thought I'd Tell You...

…that my body has craptastic timing. That is all.

Work in Progress

Need to iron out a few bugs (like how to get the green corners to go away and how to get the icons to not be green anymore), but I kind of like it.

The sunset picture is from Lake Erie at Presque Isle State Park in Pennsylvania, by the way.

Just call me that guy who paints the geometric paintings (who I am too lazy to go look up).

I am ravenously hungry today, and I have no idea why.

 

I blame the heat.

 

Though I suppose the fact that "that time of the month" is soon to arrive can be blamed as well.

 

I'm still bored. I may grace you all with more of my wonderful artwork later on today.

It's 6:17 p.m. The sun is starting to go down...and it's 102 degrees.

Um...God? Not to be disrespectful or anything...but...WTF?????

Told you I was bored.

Just to continue my efforts to spam my own blog today (and because I am bored at work - holding pattern again), here is a cute picture of some goats. This came from the Post-Gazette, via AP Photographer Joe Gill

This is what I do for a living:

This is what I do for a living:

http://www.comics.com/webmail/ViewStrip?key=55705651-fba04e1509-FF

Just in case you were wondering...

So, I hate the heat and I hate grocery shopping. So what do I do on the hottest day of the year in Baton Rouge? I go grocery shopping, of course. (It was actually a degree hotter yesterday - 104, but 103 is almost as bad).

So I went to the Albertson's that is usually the good Albertson's, in other words the one not close to my house. They have peaches on sale this week for $0.99 a pound. Peaches are my favorite fruit, except for cherries (which I apparently can't eat anymore because I discovered that they do incredibly nasty things to my digestive system - but that's another story). The peaches at the good Albertson's were horrible compared to the ones at the close Albertson's, so I had to settle for nectarines. Not nearly as satisfying.

Then I was going to get a couple pieces of fried chicken for dinner. I don't indulge in it often, but I've been craving it. Well, it smelled like they had some, but when I got into the store, the case was empty. The deli lady had cleaned it out. It wasn't even 6 p.m. yet. They usually have chicken until at least 7.

And just to top things off, they were out of the yogurt I like. The only good thing was that Stouffer's frozen things were on big sale.

So I finished my shopping and did the checkout thing. I left the store, and could see from the exit that someone was kind enough to leave their cart right behind my car after they loaded their groceries. If you don't feel like taking your cart the whole 10 feet to the cart return, fine, but have the courtesy to not block someone else in.

Well, I get to my car and go to put my groceries in the trunk. Wouldn't you know, one of my bags broke and a container of cranberry juice fell out. Of course, it didn't make it the whole six inches from the cart to the trunk, where it wouldn't have broken. No, it fell on the concrete and broke open. I suppose I could have gone into the store and complained and gotten a new bottle, but it was hot and I was tired, so I didn't bother.

So now I had two carts to take to the cart return. Could I get the one of the carts to slide into the other? Of course not. So I had to struggle with two carts, while at least two people (one of them a store employee) watched me. When I got back to the car, I walked through the cranberry juice, which made the bottom of my shoes slippery, which made me slip on the blacktop when getting into the car which made me bruise my butt.

Oh, and when I left for church this morning (yes, I made it, and I'll write about it tomorrow, maybe), I discovered that a flock of diarrhetic birds who I though had left didn't really leave, and apparently decided to rest in the tree above where I parked last night. My car got soaked in bird crap for the third time in the past 10 days. And the really sad thing is that on the days when I didn't park under the tree, nobody's car got crapped on. When I did park under the tree, my car was the only one that they chose to target.

Yeah, I'm cranky a little. I wish it were December so we'd finally see daytime highs below 80.

How come stuff I need to buy is always on sale when I have no money with which to buy it?

TG: you are absolutely right about last night's TWOP recap. I missed the episode (stuck at work), but I don't feel like I missed much at all.

Dude! Martha Stewart just changed my life.


She was interviewing that guy from Project Runway (which I've only seen once because I don't have cable). She said at one point that we are all concerned with clothes because we all where them every day.


We do??? That's why people have been looking at me funny!

You learn somehting new every day!

Really, Pittsburgh? Just, really? You couldn't come up with anything better than Steely McBeam? And why do the Steelers need a mascot anyway? They've managed 75 years without one.

Methinks there will be a cermonial funeral for Ol' Steely sometime ths season.

Much better than the actual show are Television Without Pity's recaps of Big Brother. You simply must read them.

I'm not a big fan of Sinead O'Connor, but I'm almost tempted to buy this album. It sounds interesting to me for some reason. I kind of want to see what she did with the theme. At the same time, I'm not sure I want to spend money on her. Hmm. Decisions, decisions...

I'm having a bit of summer malaise. It is hot. Really hot. And humid. Like, the air feels heavy against your body humid. It's hard to care about much.

I missed church, again. I could have made it this week, easily. But I didn't. It's hard to make it to my church in the summer. A good bit of the congregation disappears, even the ones not attached to LSU. It is a chore to worship there in the summer.

I know it shouldn't matter, but I don't like it when worship feels like penance. And it isn't like the people who are there are any different (except we all look like we may die in the heat. Midwesterners of northern European descent aren't built for Louisiana summers). The pastor isn't any different, and the quality of his sermons doesn't decline. We have no choir, but for musically impaired me, that isn't that big of a deal.

I guess that leaves me. I guess I'm going through another spiritual dry spell. They have been coming more frequently since the CCC. I've never been able to get back to that point where I knew God as more than a distant creator.

You know what, that isn't exactly true. It would be more correct to say that my experience of God has changed a lot since then. I don't know if I can quanitfy what that change is, though.

I think I need a retreat. Or a spiritual director. Or something. Any suggestions?

Can I just announce that I just got a 10% raise? Can I also announce that I've never gotten a raise of more than 2% without a change in job title? Can I also say that I absolutely love my company?

I have never been this financially secure in my life. Hell, I have never been financially secure in my life.

I don't quite know what to do with this.

But it will make it a whole lot easier to finally get my car fixed so that my wheels won't fall off.

Want your disturbing images of the day? Click here. Make sure you click through all the sample pages, in order to take in the horror.

Oh, and the movie I went to on Sunday cost me $14.50 for a matinee ticket, small popcorn, and medium Coke. It would have been more if I had gotten water, which is what I really wanted. A 20 oz bottle of Dasani or Aquafina (aren't the interchangeable?) costs $4. I can get a gallon of super premium bottled water at Whole Foods for that much.

 

Talk about markup.

If I have to spend another day at work the way I've spent the past 7 or so, I may have to gouge out my eyes with whatever dull implement I can find just to spark some excitement.

Things are slow. Really slow. We had a slow period like this once last year, but it didn't seem as bad because there weren't as many people.

And it's quiet. Nobody in my shared office is talking. And I can't work on some of my own stuff because I haven't uploaded my latest revisions to Google Docs yet.

Somebody save me!

So I've finished skimming Deathly Hallows. Skimming, mind, not in-depth reading. It isn't as bad as I feared. In fact, if I put myself in the shoes of a 16 year old, it's pretty good. I'll wait until next week to post more details, since Blogger doesn't let you cut like Live Journal does.

In other news, it's been a long time since I told you people about my underwear. So I needed some new underpants this weekend, and I thought that since I was at WalMart to buy DH, I'd get underwear while I was there. Yes, I buy cheap underpants. Why should I spend lots of money on underpants when I am the only one who sees them? Well, they were out of the cut I like (high-cut, if you are interested), so I said to myself, "Let's be daring!" and I bought a package of boy briefs.

On the one hand, I like the fact that the legs don't have elastic, which gets really uncomfortable when you sweat, which is pretty much constant here from March through October. Also, the fabric is soft, which is nice.

The downside is that they are 100% cotton, which is semi-good when it is hot because it wicks away sweat, but it is also semi-bad because they stretch. A lot. A little spandex would be a good thing.

Oh, and I saw Ratatouille today. It was really good. In terms of animation, it was probably Pixar's best. In terms of story, I still give the edge to Finding Nemo. Did I ever mention that the CCC stole that DVD from me? No? Well, they did. Of all the AV stuff (some videos, lots of CDs, a few other DVDs) they didn't return, that is the one that I regret the most.

OK, I really need to sleep now. Have a lovely Monday.

I kid I went to high school with is in the obituaries today. He is the sixth one in my broad circle of friends (in other words, people I associated with in school, but not really outside) to die, and the fifth one in which alcohol played a role.

This kid was brilliant. From talking to people who went to middle school with him, he was probably the brightest kid in our class. However, he has been drinking since he was 12, and by the time he got to high school, he was a serious alcoholic. He was driving drunk.

You know, I see people from my high school still posting about partying, and posting pictures of themselves at nightclubs and bars on myspace and alumni sites, and I don't understand it. Not that I don't go out occassionally, but I'm 36 years old, as are these people. I don't feel the need to act like I'm 23. The focus of my life is not what bar I'm going to go to on Friday night and how wasted I'm going to get.

It makes me sad to see this. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again.

These were not stupid people. Yet they seem to be stunted at the age of 19. What happened that I got beyond that point and they didn't.

Granted, I went away to school, and none of them did. I had to deal with total adult responsibility sooner than they did, as a result of losing both parents by the time I was 24. But surely that can't be all.

Though it is funny to note that all the people I see doing and saying things about drinking and partying now are all people who never left the neighborhood we grew up in. The ones who left, even just to another part of the city or a nearby suburb, seem to be normal, responsible adults. Why the difference?

If I were pursing a graduate degree in sociology, I'd smell a thesis or dissertation there. But I'm not, and it just makes me sad.

This makes me happy.

Bishop Zubik is a very good man and a very good bishop. He does a kick-ass Confirmation Mass, too.

Well.

Apparently there is an entire leaked copy of Deathly Hallows on the internet somewhere. Now, I don't go looking for spoilers (so I haven't read what's there - except for the epilogue (which was disappointing, to say the least), but some folks at some of the blogs I read do. Several of them have read the whole thing. And some folks who's opinions I really trust were really disappointed. And from the spoilers I've encountered, I think I will be to. The general consensus is that it seems like JKR kind of got bored with the series, and committed character assassination before the real deaths happened.

That makes me sad.

But in a way, I almost understand it.

Seven books with the same characters is a lot. Think about it. We're talking over 2000 pages - close to 3000. I can't imagine that. Of course there is going to be some decline in quality.

But in the last book? That makes me sad.

Nevertheless, I will be spending my Saturday reading the actual thing. I'll post my reactions when I do.

Maybe if this book sucks, it will kick my butt into getting back into the Greater American Novel.

So, I haven't posted much this week. Not that I haven't had blog-worthy thoughts, just that most of my blog-worthy thoughts this week have been about politics and religion, two things I try to avoid writing about.

Well, let me clarify that. I'll write about religion (or more correctly faith and/or spirituality) as it relates directly to me, or to something I've learned. I don't like writing about global religion issues for several reasons. First of all, I am afraid that I'm not knowledgeable enough to comment...well...knowledgeably. I'm still learning about this new denomination I've embraced, and I'm uncomfortable commenting on the issues facing it without having been in it for more than a few years. And I try not to comment on stuff that comes out as it relates to Roman Catholicism because I don't want any sour grapes I may still harbor to color my perception.

Politics, on the other hand, I really try to avoid. The reason for that is that I know my readership runs the political spectrum from very conservative to very liberal. And as far as I am concerned, they are entitled to fall wherever they choose to fall along that spectrum, just as I am. I avoid discussing my opinions on politics because I don't want to offend anyone, or lose the respect of people who knew me way back when, before I became a bleeding-heart liberal.

But today, I am going to suspend my rule and discuss both topics together. More specifically, I'm going to say that I think the two topics should be completely divorced from each other.

I was reading some of the testimony of Dr. Richard Carmona this weekend (and my apologies if I spelled his last name wrong). He is the former surgeon general, and he testified to congress about how he was instructed by the White House to supress certain scientific information in his speeches, briefings, and publications, information that specifically relates to such topics as stem-cell research, abortion, contraception, and other hot-button issues on the Evangelical/fundamentalist platform. That offends me as an educated person.

I'm not going to say that the Republican party as a whole holds these opinions, but there is a certain, large segment that would like to see religion (evangelical Chrisitanity specifically) entertwined into the government of this country. That isn't acceptable. It isn't even the separation of church and state issue, or even the freedom of religion issue that makes it unacceptable.

The fact of the matter is that it is unacceptable because tying up religion with politics - conservative or liberal - denies the diversity of this country, and the diverse viewpoints of its citizens.

Now, individual politicians viewpoints are going to be informed by whatever religion they practice (if they practice at all). That's true of all of us. But the decisions that lawmakers make as a whole have to reflect the will of the people, not of a segment of the people who happen to give a lot of money to campaigns and who have a bully pulpit to propagate their viewpoint. I see just that happening with the current presidential administration, as well as many (not all) of the
Republicans in office. That frustrates me.

Now, having said that, I do intend to vote for the Republican candidate for governor in Louisiana, Bobby Jindal, because I think he is the best candidate for the job, and has the interests of the state at heart.

And this is why I don't write about politics and religion.

Tomorrow (or soon, at any rate) I will write about Harry Potter. There's a harmless topic.

Ha!

My Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom is: Lord Voldemort kills Voldemort whilst running away from a rampaging flock of gerbils Get your Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom

OK, I have to admit this one is pretty funny, too.

Hee!

My Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom is: Nearly Headless Nick gets pregnant by Harry with a wicked cackle Get your Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom

This is a plot point I would pay good money to read!

And Let Me Just Say...

Roger Federer is one attractive man. And a snappy dresser. Glad he won today.

I had the most bizarre dream this morning, and I thought I'd share it with all you good people.

So I dreamed that I was at an open house for the Sisters of Charity, the religious order St. Elizabeth Ann Seton founded. Now, this wasn't a vocations thing, as I was the youngest person there by about 30 years, and there were men there, too. All of the sisters were wearing typical "nun clothes" (not a habit, but the kind of things nuns typically wear), but they all had on bonnets like the one St. Elizabeth is wearing here. And just so you know, I wrote a paper about St. Elizabeth and the Sisters of Charity in college (for the worst class I ever had in any level of education), which is how my subconscious supplied all these details.

Anyway, I got there too late to listen to this really great speaker I wanted to hear (which is my subconscious's way of spanking me for having trouble making it to church on time on a weekly basis). So those of us who arrived late were entertained by two lovely, elderly nuns who shared with us stories about the order's lay volunteer program (I don't even know that they have one of these, but a lot of orders do).

When the speaker in the other room was finished (to loud applause, and the listeners leaving with tears in their eyes), we were all shuttled to another room to have dinner and watch a movie, I'm not sure what dinner consisted of beyond noodles - and there were a LOT of noodles, including ramen), but the movie was about the man who was Pope before John XXIII. I don't think that he was ever named (which is my subconscious's way of saying that I have no idea who was Pope right before John XXIII), but he was played by Kenneth Branagh. It was quite an interesting film. In my mind, apparently this Pope was in ill health and did not want the faithful to know. So he devised all these "helps" to help him stand upright and walk easily whenever he had to be in public. It was quite the good movie, and Kenneth Branagh was brilliant.

When the movie was over, the sisters collected our dinner dishes (including the styrofoam cups from the ramen noodles), and told us we could do the dishes later. Then one of the sisters pulled out a guitar to lead a sing-along. That, thankfully, is when I woke up.

The dream was vivid enough that I had to look up on IMDB whether or not Kenneth Branagh played a pope in a move that was released in 2005. He did not. I also had to look up and see who was Pope before John XXIII. Branagh looks nothing like him. I also thought that there was another guy between Pius XII and John XXIII. Guess not, huh?

Anybody want to analyze this?

Oh, and I watched Finding Neverland yesterday. I've had the DVD for over a year and never quite got around to watching it. Wonderful movie. I also watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Not quite as wonderful, but entertaining nonetheless.

I think I may be sick. I woke up with really bad stomach pains that haven't gone completely away. I'm at work, nonetheless, though. Could be I'm just about to embark on that time of the month. (Sorry, guys).

Oh, and the AC isn't working in my building, apparently. Which makes being stuck here even more miserable. Yee. Hah.

So I think I'm in love.

Who is the lucky guy you may be asking yourself (if you really have no life whatsoever).

That would be Gordon Ramsay.

Yeah, the foul-mouthed chef guy.

I've been watching Hell's Kitchen on Fox for the last three years - love it. It's (sadly) my favorite part of the summer. This season totally rocks, too, because the contestants are sooo annoying.

Today, because things are slow (my job is very much a hurry-up-and-wait kind of job - it's either dead slow or crazy rushed), I watched a bunch of Gordon Ramsay stuff on YouTube. Kitchen Nightmares is wonderful. Even better were videos of him cooking stuff. His food is so simple, but looks so good.

I can't wait for the US version of Kitchen Nightmares this fall. And if I ever make it to England, I think I shall have to save for months to be able to eat in one of his restaurants, because I think it will be worth it.

That is all.

Sigh. I've said it before and I'll say it again - my church really needs to move services to 11:05 instead of 11. I was a minute late again today, and as a result, I didn't go. Something from my childhood prevents me from going into church anythig less than right-on-time. If I were still doing the therapy thing, I might look at that. But I'm not so I won't - at least right now.

I miss my computer. I hope it gets fixed soon. My old computer is annoying me. I didn't realize just how slow my old computer is. That is why I am typing this at the office. Well, that and the fact the company pays for the air conditioning here, as opposed to me paying at home. It's another blistering day.

So, here are my final thoughts on the reunion weekend.

TG made an interesting point about being a different person, but retaining...something...that made her still recognizable. That was pretty much my reaction, too.

See, there is no doubt that I am a different person than I was 13 years ago. Lot's of life experience plays into that. I faced the death of my last parent, being on the verge of being homeless (I never wrote about that, and don't know that I ever will), had jobs and lost jobs, had my faith challenged, and moved half a country away. And that's just the big stuff.

I'm not even the same person I was when I moved five years ago. My years at the CCC (well, year and a half) had a profound affect on me, as I faced for the economic discrimination for the first time. Not to mention my time at my former company, where I thought I had a real career but was just kidding myself.

I've grown more liberal, more outgoing (honest, I have!), and more...something I don't have a word for.

I think that's where a lot of my anxiety over that weekend came from. I stressed over what people would think of me as I am now. But you know, that was a waste of energy. Even though everyone was different, they were simultaneously the same. And I was, too.

I think that's a pretty remarkable thing. No matter the distance, no matter the circumstances, no matter the changes, something always remains constant. That's pretty amazing to me. God truly does good work.

I mentioned before that I don't think I could live in Pittsburgh again. On further reflection, I stand by that. It is still a great city, and I still think I'm going back in the fall. But something felt...unlivable about it - ironic for America's Most Livable City. I don't know that I can define what exactly it was that made it feel that way. Perhaps it's just the haze of memory that hover's over the city where I spent most of my life. Some of it is good stuff, but a lot of it is bad. It's the place where I learned alot of those negative thinking patterns that led to anxiety and depression. I learned to put my needs behind the needs of everyone else, to an unhealthy extreme. I learned that what is an acceptable level of achievement for other people isn't good enough for me. And I learned that my only real value to people was as something to be used when needed, acknowledged when convenient, and ignored otherwise.

I didn't realize that all that stuff was lurking below the surface until I went back there as a tourist. But it is, and for me to be a relatively well-adjusted adult, I don't think I can be someplace where I can encounter those things just around any corner. That is what I meant when I said I feel like I've outgrown the city.

I'm glad that we are planning to make the reunion weekend an annual thing. I lost touch with so many people after college, partially because I had other things to deal with (my mother's decline and death, mostly), and partially because it was such a pain to write a paper letter or so expensive to make a long-distance phone call. And partially, too, because I tend to give up if I write to or call someone a couple times in a row and they don't reply back (not that that applies to anyone in this group - that's more of a high school thing). I hope we can all stay in better touch now. Despite what I said above, I miss those ties to my former life.

I haven't written my long reflection, because my computer went kablooey, and is now on its way back to Dell to be fixed. No idea what happend - it just stopped working.

 

And of course, I don't have back ups of the files (except for the Greater American Novel - thank you Google Docs!) on the hard drive, including all the pictures I took last weekend. I had planned to back them up the night the computer died.

 

Sigh.

 

I shall have time for some writing this weekend, barring any more unforeseen circumstances.

My full reflections on the weekend that was will be coming tomorrow. I needed today to recover from the trip (which could have been just one day longer).

Instead, I will say that I think I'm planning on going back in October to do stuff I didn't have time to do this weekend.

Oh, and if any of you non-bloggers among us have a reflection on the weekend you would like to share, feel free to send it on and I will post it.

Finally, I leave you with something to ponder. Louisiana just sent all of its residents a booklet about avian flu. It says to watch your chickens for signs of infection. Among signs of infection in chickens are coughing, sneezing, and diarrhea. My question on all of those is: how can you tell?



Yes, I am a city girl. My dad (who lived on a chicken farm for a while) would be appalled.

So I'm in the airport in Pittsburgh. My flight doesn't leave until 4:55, and it's only 1:38. What better way to kill some time than to bore all of you good people to death?

Here are some thoughts on my first trip north in 5 years, and my first trip to my alma mater since graduation (that would be...13 years. It makes me a little nauseated every time I say or think that).

• It was so good to see so many people I'd lost touch with. I'm hoping that doesn't happen again.


• It was also very weird to see all of them with kids. Even though I knew they had them, as most people my age do, it was still weird. I guess since I don't have any of my own, it doesn't dawn on my that other people do. They were all great kids, though.


• If I were forced to move back to Pennsylvania, I think I could live in Erie, but I'm not so sure about Pittsburgh. That's really weird, because if you had asked me when I was in college if I would ever leave Pittsburgh, the answer would have been a resounding no. And I was absolutely certain I would never leave Pennsylvania. Funny how life works out.


• When thinking about the above, I think the reason I could live in Erie and not in Pittsburgh is the fact that Erie holds almost all good memories for me, but Pittsburgh - not so much. I became my own person in Erie. I discovered facets of myself and things within myself that I never thought existed. Really, more than anything else other than my parents, Gannon formed me into who I am today. Mostly for the good.


• I wish I would have had more time today to walk around campus and see the changes. It looks a little more like a typical campus now.


• I was very serious about how much Erie reminds me of Baton Rouge. As I was driving along Peach Street yesterday, I kept calling it Airline Highway in my head. I need to ruminate more on this.


• I went to Eat'n Park for dinner last night. I had Potato Soup, which is still wonderful. I also had Rosemary Chicken which...not so much. It was bland, and the sauce had a kind of sweet flavor. The Grilled Stickies I had for dessert made up for it, though.


• Next time I do this trip, I'd kinda like to take a whole week, and I'd kinda like to drive the whole way. I like driving, and I like seeing the country.


• The one less-than-bright spot on this trip was the lunch I had with a friend on Friday. I'm not going to talk about it now, but suffice it to say, she was less than happy about where I am right now faith-wise, and she let me know it. That surprised me, because she is usually pretty open-minded and liberal. The other person who was with us was also unhappy, but I've known that for ages now. He stopped e-mailing me over my decision to become Lutheran, in fact. It shocked me that he even came to lunch (I didn't know he was going to until I got there), but I guess it was just to put in his two cents about how I was going to burn in Hell forever. I reminded him that his favorite liturgical composer (Marty Haugen) is on my team and asked him if he was going to stop using his music because he was a heretic (the guy is a liturgist). He didn't answer. I'll write more about this later.


• I have lots more to say about all this, and will probably have blog fodder for a while. In the mean time, here is some picture from this weekend - Probably Pittsburgh.

So I'm sitting here in a McDonald's parking lot in Erie listening to seagulls. No wireless connection at the Motel 6.

I had forgotten how similar Erie and Baton Rouge are. I knew it on one level - both college towns, both with water as a major feature, both outgrew their infrastructure before they were ready.

But the feel of the two cities is really similar. Baton Rouge is a little bigger, and a lot warmer, but similar nonetheless.

When I get home tomorrow (or more likely on Tuesday) I'll have a longer entry about this whole experience. For now, I leave you with a picture of a Lake Erie sunset. I took about 75 of them last night, so I might as well share one...

Here is what is wrong with Pittsburgh. Tonight, there was a gallery crawl downton. I drove through and had no idea what was going on. I just found out from a blog. There was no mention in the local paper. I would have liked to have gone to that. But since I didn't know it was going on, I didn't.

 

There are other things wrong, but I may write about them later.

If I can find a wireless connection in Erie, I'll provide you a bigger update on today. I didn't do much of anything today - I was sore. I did drive all over the city, and I took a few pictures.

I'm still processing the whole returning home thing. I think I needed this trip for closure more than anything else. I'm happy in Baton Rouge, happier than I can ever remember being, in fact (well, except maybe for my college days before my dad died). I'm financially stable, I have a job that I really like, and I'm generally speaking content.

I'll say more tomorrow. The connection I have right now is iffy at best. I've lost it about 5 times over the course of this post.

The Prodigal Returns

Sorry for not providing an update yesterday, buy by the end of the day, I had walked about...five miles, and I could barely move. I still feel like I was rode hard and put away wet.

And before I go any further, props to my company for offering domestic partner benefits.

Now, then, my trip.

My day started at 9:30 Wednesday morning. That was the last time before 11 last night that I slept. I left Baton Rouge around 4:30, which was about a half hour later than I wanted to. It was no big deal, though, because there was no traffic. I parked in a lot and waited by my car for the shuttle to pick me up. The plane was a little late in leaving, but nobody was sitting next to me - bonus. Sitting behind me however was a family on their way to Pittsburgh for vacation. They were having the most ridiculous coversation about nothing that I have ever heard.

The plane was few minutes late getting into Philadelphia, and I was in the back of the plane. I had less than 50 minutes to make my connection, and I had never been in the Philly airport before (it is a pit, by the way). So I sped through the airport, covering about a mile in 15 minutes, including two moving sidewalks (still hate those things).

On the way to Pittsburgh, who should I be sitting by but the inane conversation family. Conversation was still inane, but this time it was about airplane manufacturers. For an hour straight.

We got into Pittsburgh, and I went to baggage claim. It was taking a long time to get there, so I went to the rental car company. Who should be there by inane family. I got my keys, then got my bag, then went to the car. It is a yellow Chevy Cobalt. Strike that one from the list of cars I might buy when I buy a new one. It is really cramped, and the seat is too high and puts my foot in an awkward position when I have to step on the pedals. Plus, I don't know how to work all the bells and whistles. Do they even make cars any more that don't have power anything?

Anyway, by this time I was ravenous (I hadn't eaten all day) so I went to Panera and had chicken salad sandwich. I used to think they made the best chicken salad sandwhiches, and had romanticized it a bit. Now, though, they are down to number three in my mind behind La Madeleine and Bistro Byronz (Byronz would be first if they didn't put cranberries in it).

I had some time to kill before my hotel room was ready, so I drove around my old neighborhood. It was weird. Aside from being more run down, it is pretty much exactly the same. Even the potholes haven't changed. But it felt...small somehow. It never did when I was a kid. And I don't know if I mean that it felt physically small. In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't. I think I mean that...it felt like it represented a part of me that isn't so much there now. Let me see if I can explain.

I was the only one in my neighborhood to go away to college. Everybody else who went stayed local. The other people in my high school to go away mostly went to IUP, which might have been called "Langley East" (of the 50% of my class to go onto higher education (about 100), about 20 people went to IUP.). I went away, and it was good. Every time I came home, it seemed like I had changed and no one else did. It was unsettling.

Now that I have moved beyond the western corner of Pittsburgh on a permanent basis, it feels like that on a city-wide basis. Not that Baton Rouge is some cosmopolitan Mecca, but I've been exposed to a whole lot of other things down there, and I have fundamentally changed. I guess that is reflected in my perception of the city.

I have more thoughts on this, but I need time to formulate them.

Last night, I went to the exhibit at Phipps Conservatory. It was awesome. I took about 140 pictures. I would have taken more, but my batteries started to run out, and I had to wait about 2 minutes between pictures for the batteries to charge.

Today, I hurt, but I'm going sightseeing a little bit this afternoon. I leave you with one of the pictures I took last night. I'm planning to put up a Flickr slide show when I get home, so stay tuned.

All that's left to do is laundry, then sleep for a few hours. I'm leaving for New Orleans around 4 a.m. if things go according to plan. To those of you I'll be seeing this weeked, I'll see you this weekend.

Have to share. Not a Sopranos fan, but still funny. It's funnier if you know what Ritter's Diner is.

Dear World,

I am NOT getting sick two days before my trip. I'm just not. That is all.

Sheryl




There. Now that I announced it to the world, it has to be true.

This is a picture of my purse taken with my new camera and monkeyed around with with the photo software on my computer.

If I weren't too lazy to get up and get my USB cable, I'd post a picture of the kittens that live under the deck of the geese that live at the building where I work. But I am, so I won't.

In other news, the commercial with the Kotex maxipad with wings animated to look like it's driving down a road, and then stops and picks up a red dot which represents...well, I think you know what it represents? Yeah, I hate that commercial.

I've ranted about feminine protection commercials before. I don't remember which ones, but I know I've ranted about them. Basically, I don't believe that it necessary to advertise those products. Speaking as a woman, women are pretty gosh darned brand-loyal when it comes to those particular purchases. There aren't a lot of things that are going to entice a woman to switch types or brands, and a maxipad that is supposed to bring to mind a car isn't one of them. When a woman finds something she likes in that area, she sticks with it. Therefore, it is a waste of airtime and corporate money to advertise those products on TV.

Now I know what you are thinking. You are thinking I'm a prude and just don't want to see that. Wrong. I just think that there isn't much an advertiser could say in a commercial that is going to make me want to change my preferred brand. That is a very personal choice, based on a whole lot of things (fear not, I am not going to share my very personal choice with you, except to say that it not Kotex, and never will be). I found what I liked years ago (like, when I was in college) and have used it ever since and have no intention of changing.

So, multinational conglomerates who happen to have a feminine hygiene division, spend your advertising dollars elsewhere. Like the snackfood division. Especially if you happen to sell something that is simultaneously salty, greasy, chocolatey, and low fat. Then you will really get the attention of women at "that time of the month."

Oh, and just so you don't think I'm picking on Kotex alone, I also hate Always' tag line "Have a happy period. Always." And I hate the the Pamprin commercials about how much better that makes you feel than Advil and your girlfriends won't even believe that you have your period until you announce that you are craving chocolate, and then they say knowingly to each other, "Oh yeah, she's menstrual." And I hate the tampon commercials that make it seem like by using tampons, all of your menstrual symptoms magically go away. Oh, and yeast infection commercials.

Wow. How did this post turn into this?

By the way, go check out the animation's the good folks at Sweet Juniper embedded in this post. They are by the same guy who did a lot of the animation for vintage Sesame Street and Electric Company. They are just wonderful.

Just as a note, it is a well-known fact throughout all of Pennsylvania that Ohio Drivers are the worst in the nation (though most folks from PA have never been to Louisiana, and not many folks drive all that way).

 

So, sorry Tim. I'm just reporting the facts.

 

TG, you're off the hook since you were trained in PA, where if you run a yellow in some of those little towns, you have a ticket coming.

 

Down here, the little towns get you with speedtraps on country roads. The state auditor did a study and found that some of the tiny towns in LA derive over 60% of their revenue from speeding tickets.

First of all, if you are female, you must buy Ryka tennis shoes.

 

They are horribly comfortable, made specifically to fit women's feet, and horribly comfortable. The only downside is that only a few styles come in a wide width. Shoebuy.com carries at least one of those styles; I don't think Zappos.com carries any. I love my new shoes, and I have a week to break them in before I go all over creation in Pittsburgh.

 

Second of all, Dell refunded my account, finally. I wonder if the Dell representative who happened upon my blog had anything to do with it. Regardless, I am not buying my camera from them. I found a better one at Circuit City for less than half the price. As soon as my account is paid off, I am done with Dell.

 

Third, why do two bras in the same size from the same manufacturer made with the same material fit differently? What is up with that? Don't they have some kind of size standardization thingy in their plants?

 

Fourthly, I am looking forward to seeing my hometown as a tourist, even if it only for one full day and two half days. I'm seeing the exhibit at Phipps Conservatory on Thursday night, then perhaps again on Friday morning (it's a cool exhibit, and it's totally different at night and during the day apparently). If not, I'm not sure what I'm going to do on Friday morning. I'm having lunch with a friend then, and Friday night I plan to go to the Warhol Museum and then to see a show downtown (Amish Burlesque - It's a comedy, if you couldn't tell).

 

Saturday, I'm going to visit the cemeteries before I go to Erie. I can only put cut flowers on my parents' grave, but I'm thinking of planting a rose bush at my grandmother's so that she will always have pink roses, even though there is no one to take them year after year (another guilt trip I've laid upon myself that probably merits an entry at some point).  I'd like to go to the Strip District, too, but that seems kind of pointless (although lunch at Benkovitz sounds like a good thing).

 

I am a little leery about driving in PA, though. I've picked up a lot of bad habits living here for five years. Things like accelerating on a yellow (yellow lights are extremely long here, and if you don't accelerate, the person tailgating you will hit you), never using turn signals, and assuming the posted speed limit means minimum speed. Baton Rouge drivers really are the worst I've ever seen. Worse even than Ohio drivers.

 

Oh well, I guess I'll get back to work. Getting my hair cut this afternoon.  Woo hoo!

The high today in Baton Rouge was 96, with a heat index of 107. WTF, weather?

I literallyhave salt on my face from dried sweat. And all I did was go to Target and the grocery store (Super Target has better prices, but the grocery store has better selection).

I found the Holy Grail of apartment dwellers today at Target. I found...a laundry basket with wheels and a pull-up handle. It is beautiful. Thank you Target, for stocking what your customers want.

And Dell, I have to tell you, your customer service sucks. Yes, dear readers, they still haven't refunded my account for the camera I had to cancel because the delayed shipping twice. Not only that, I discovered Friday that they had been lying to me all last week. They guy who told me that it would refund within a few hours on Monday? Lied. The guy on chat who told me it would refund within 24-48 hours? Lied. Apparently, when part of an order ship and the other part is cancelled because Dell (and/or its suppliers) is stupid and can't manage to keep up with demand, it takes longer to process the refund, and it might not credit until the next billing cycle. I feel a little guilty, but I read the customer service rep. I spoke with on Friday the riot act. It wasn't his fault, but I know those calls are recorded and reviewed, and I was going to speak my piece.

By the end of the call, they guy promised me that my account would be credited by Monday. If I don't see a credit by Tuesday morning (I'll give them the benefit of the doubt when it comes to their systems updating), there will be hell to pay. I was looking forward to having a camera to take on vacation with me, and now that might not happen. I am not a happy camper.

The computer company that rhymes with hell is getting on my nerves.

 

I cancelled the shipment of my camera because it wasn't going to reach me in time for my vacation.  This was on Monday, and they have yet to credit my account so I can order a camera that will reach me on time for my vacation. They keep giving me the run-around about exactly when they are going to do so.

 

Love my computer, hate their customer service.

Aww...Ducks! I love ducks!

This was an interesting article.

When I was starting to look at colleges in earnest, in the spring of my junior year of high school, my parents were totally confused. I was, for all intents and purposes, a first-generation college student (my dad went for two years on the GI Bill, but didn't earn a degree, and, really, didn't have a "normal" college experience. He was one of about 50 male GI's taking classes on the then all-female Carlow College campus.). When literature about various colleges started pouring in after I took the PSAT's, we were overwhelmed.

I knew theoretically that there were thousands of colleges and universities in the United States (thanks to my handy-dandy Reader's Digest Almanac and Book of Facts), but I didn't imagine that any of them would send me mail based only on the fact that I did pretty well on the PSAT's. I got stuff from teeny, tiny liberal arts schools in Minnesota, and from UCLA. Of course, I was interested in every single one of them for a long time. I wanted to visit schools in New England, Texas, Michigan, North Dakota, New Mexico...well, you get the point.

My parents, however, put the kaibosh on that. The said we could go to any college night programs that took place anywhere near Pittsburgh, and maybe visit a few nearby colleges in the summer. I had to narrow my choices on my own.

I have to admit, that my methods were pretty much as arbitrary as the ones in the article. I eliminated one school because they sent me too much junk (that would be Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania. I hope that they either stopped that practice, or that one of their admission/marketing people happens to find this blog and learns just how irritating all that mail was). I eliminated others because the pictures in their viewbooks scared me. I was pretty sure I couldn't attend a school where students spontaneously formed human pyramids on the quad. I initially eliminated all the Catholic colleges (you'll learn why when I write about the high school phase of my journey sometime this week), but then I put a few back in. I did eliminate all the really conservative Christian colleges on a permanent basis, because they scared me, too.

Finally, at the beginning of the summer before my senior year, I had my list narrowed down to 10 schools. I don't remember all of them, but I do know that they included West Virgina Wesleyan, Dickinson, Mount Holyoke, and of course Gannon, which was really my fall-back school.

That summer, we visited West Virginia Wesleyan in person. I liked, it, but it was really rural, and a little too small. We also went to college nights for Dickinson, Mount Holyoke, and Gannon. The first two were in swank, downtown hotels. Gannon's was at the Green Tree Holiday Inn. That is a key factor later on, which is why I mention it now.

Now, there was no way in creation we could visit Mount Holyoke in person. We just didn't have the money for a trip to New England. But my dad did decide we could see Dickinson in person, and he wanted to go see Gannon (he used to babysit the guy who was the Dean of Enrollment Services back then).

So, the week before school started, we went on a day trip to see Gannon. Honestly, I wasn't that impressed. There was no campus. I wanted a school with green space and old buildings and ivy and stuff like that. I couldn't tell what buildings belonged to Gannon and which ones didn't. It was not an auspicious visit.

My visit to Dickinson in the fall, however, was. It had the old, stone buildings, the ivy, the clearly-defined campus. It had the changing leaves, and the village feel. It was exactly what I was looking for.

In the end, I only applied to Dickinson and Gannon. I knew there was a chance I wouldn't get accepted to Dickinson, so I wanted that fall-back school. I eliminated WVW because it was just too remote, and I eliminated Mt. Holyoke because I realized I could never fit in with the daughters of rich folk.

After I sent in my applications, I put it all out of my mind. I still had to pass Calculus if I wanted to get in anywhere, after all, and I still had to make sure that I finished ahead of SR in class rank (I wrote about her in the elementary school post). I did, by the way. She didn't even make the top ten. Take that, witch with a captial B!

Anyhow, the first acceptance letter I got was from Gannon. They offered me a really good financial aid package. I was happy that at least I knew I'd have some place to go in the fall.

While waiting to hear from Dickinson, I got to thinking, not about how prestegious the two colleges were, or how nice their campuses were, but how the felt. Dickinson felt a little uptight, a little pretentious to me. It felt like they were making too much of an effort to impress, both visitors and students alike.

Gannon, on the other hand, felt like an old friend. They were laid back in their college night. One of the professors even came and presented about his research. Where as Dickinson had fancy hors d'oevers (I think there is a "u" in there somewhere, but I'm too lazy too look it up) for refreshments, Gannon had pop, chips, and cookies. When they visited my school, I couldn't attend the presentation because it was during Calculus (couldn't miss that class for love or money). The admissions person stuck around and talked to me during my lunch period instead. In short, they impressed me by being genuine, and I had a good feel about that.

So, I made the decision to go to Gannon, and asked by dad to send in the deposit without waiting to hear from Dickinson. I'm convinced I made the best choice. I did get accepted at Dickinson, by the way (but couldn't afford to go because they didn't give scholarships to freshmen, and their maximum need-based award wouldn't have covered as much as I needed it to cover.).

So yeah, I guess the college-choosing process really is arbitrary on the part of the students. But sometimes you have to go with your instinct over cold, hard facts.

Leif Garrett has come up twice today. How weird is that?

I saw a kid downstairs who looked exactly like he did circa 1976. And as I'm working on resumes, I'm listening to the podcast of Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me, where they talked about his visit to rehab.

It's a psychedellic kind of day.

I know there are at least a couple clergy-types who stop by and read occasionally. And if preaching a sermon is anything like teaching, you sometimes wonder if anything you are saying is affecting anyone in your congregation in any way.

 

Well, it is. Even if no one tells you that.

 

Heard a great sermon yesterday that just really struck a cord and helped with the whole "getting over myself" thing. The pastor wove together St.Paul, St. Augustine, Luther, and Emily Dickenson in a way that really worked. Rock on, Pastor E!

 

And yes, I did tell him.  I know it helps to hear that sometimes.

First of all, thanks to TG for offering to goad her children into misbehavior so I can save face! Don't think it'll be necessary, though. I'll be over myself by then.

Let me explain why I am so weird about the religion stuff.

As regular readers know, my dad was Catholic, my mom was Lutheran, and they chose to raise me Catholic. Now, when I was little, I didn't really understand the differences, except that they went to different churches, and Daddy's church had the big cross behind the altar and Mummy's church had the big, fascinating, and creepy picture of the Agony in the Garden on one of the walls. Despite that, though, I could tell that my dad's family thought a little less of my mom because she wasn't "part of the fold." even if she was a good woman.

And, I could tell that, despite the fact that my dad loved my mother deeply, there was a little part of him that didn't like the fact that she wasn't willing to consider conversion to Catholicism. That was one of the few things that kep my family growing up from being just about perfect (well, that and my dad's drinking, and my mom's occassional depression, and...you get the picture).

I went to Catholic school for elementary school, so as far as I was concerned, everyone in the world was Catholic (except for Mum, of course). On some level, I believed that, even though I had evidence to the contrary in the form of the Methodist nursery school, the Presbyterian preschool and vacation bible school I attended, and the Baptist neighbors who always wrapped tracts around the candy bars they handed out at Halloween - no one cared because they gave full-sized Hershey Bars. Anyway, I was pretty content in my little Catholic world.

Until fourth grade. I've written before about how incredibly hurt I was that I wasn't allowed to be an altar server because I was a girl. I knew in my head that only boys were allowed to serve in my church, even though girls could serve in my mom's church, but in my heart, I really wanted to be a server. I was fascinated by the ritual of the Mass, and I wanted to know more. I wanted to really understand what was happening, which I wasn't getting out of my religion classes. When Fr. David Kriss (he's dead, and I hated him, so I will use his real name) pretty much told me I was a bad person because I questioned that inequality, I started to question other things too.

I quietly questioned and went on with my life for the next couple years, until 7th grade. That year changed my life in so many ways, some good, some bad. I started in the Pittsburgh Public Schools Middle School Gifted Program that year. I got pulled out of my school once a week to attend special classes with students from all over the city, from both private an public schools. I loved it. I was challenged academically and intellectually, which I wasn't getting at my home school. But more importantly, I discovered that the whole world was not white and Catholic. I went to school with African-American students for the first time, my closest friends and Banksville were a Hispanic Lutheran, and African-American Baptist, a Jewish girl and a Jewish guy. We bonded one day when we realized that the one that everyone at out table in our IEP class had in common was that the KKK hated us all. We talked about religion from an intellectual perspective - well, as intellectual as bunch of sheltered 12 year olds can be. It was awesome.

Back at my home school, I was on our Spelling Bee "team" (I can't think of a better word than that - there were three of us who represented the school in the Pittsburgh Press Spelling Bee, and one alternate). In addition to practicing at home, we were expected to give up recess two days a week to practice at school. Guess who our "coach" was? If you guessed Fr. David Kriss, you are right. At first, it wasn't that bad, but as the Bee got closer, he demanded more of our time. At first, he'd keep us 10 or 15 minutes into our lunch periods, leaving us with 15 or 10 minutes to eat. Then he insisted on more days, so that we were giving up recess all together (he actually was a little bit ticked with D and me for our one day a week at Banksville). He also became more and more harsh in practice. He insisted that we spell words in syllables, and even if we got them correct, we had to respell them.

Well, I had trouble spelling in syllables. My brain just didn't memorize words like that. Instead, I tended to see them in letter groups. It worked for me, but he didn't like that at all. He yelled at me all time. It got to be really, really stressful.

Everything came to a head one Thursday. He started giving us words we hadn't studied yet, and at one point, he gave me the word "leukemogen" which, if you are interested, is an agent that causes leukemia. I spelled it wrong the first time, and I didn't spell it in syllables. He completely lost it. He made me, for the rest of our study session, say each syllable and then spell it - of that same word. This went on for about 20 minutes. By the end, I was in tears, and I could tell that M, K, and D were uncomfortable on my behalf. He kept us all the way through lunch that day.

Now our principal, Sr. Paulita (don't mind giving her name either - she was wonderful), insisted that we take as much time as we needed to eat lunch when he kept us late. Unfortunately, I had pre-Algebra right after lunch, and my limited math skills didn't let me miss a minute of class, so I usually just bolted lunch. On that particular day, though, I first of all didn't feel like eating, and second, had no time as class was already starting. So I told Mrs. F (who worked in the lunchroom on Thursdays instead of my mom, who worked the rest of the week), that I was skipping lunch and went back to class.

Sr. Mary Agnes (she was pretty OK, too) had been alerted that we had been kept through lunch, and was surprised to see me in class. I couldn't lie to her and say that I had already eaten since I had my full lunchbag with me. I told her I just wasn't very hungry. It was obvious that I had been crying.

Somehow or another, Sr. Mary Agnes must have gotten word to Sr. Paulita using some special nun-ESP, because a few minutes later, she came and pulled me out of class. She took me into the gym (which was the closest unused room), and asked me what was wrong. I tried to keep it in, and tell her everything was fine, but she was pretty darned perceptive, and she didn't believe me. I finally broke down, and through tears told her what had happened, and about all the other times Fr. Kriss had yelled at me, and that I was sorry I couldn't do things his way. I told her that I'd try to fix things if I just knew why he hated me (this kind of thing had been going on since that day in 4th grade, to one degree or another). She told me it wasn't my fault, and told me she'd call my mom to come get me. I didn't want to miss math, though, so she sent me back to class, and called my mom anyway. I didn't have to have any more classes with Fr. Kriss (I even got to help out in the computer room when he taught our religion class), and he got transferred right after that school year.

I also had other issues at my home school that year. SR, my rival all through school, had gone from being merely a rival to being my arch-nemisis and bully. She was the de facto leader of the popular girls, so where she led, they followed. I got picked on a lot that year. I wasn't pretty, or athletic, or rich. I had "developed" earlier than the other girls who were just starting that. Then, I went to a different school one day a week , which, according to them, made me think I was better than everyone else. I thought nothing of the sort, of course. My self-esteem was low enough then that I pretty much thought that I was inferior to everyone. It made for a miserable year.

That year marked a seminal moment for me in my relationship with the Catholic Church. I didn't understand why this man, who was supposed to represent the Good Shepherd on Earth could be so mean to me, how these girls, who professed to believe what Jesus taught every week at Mass could pick on me to the point where I went home in tears, and the kids I knew at Banksville, who weren't Catholic, or even Christian in some cases, could be so nice. I didn't understand how I could stick out like a sore thumb with people who were supposedly just like me, an fit in perfectly with people who weren't. That was the year I started to question the institutional Church, and organized religion in general.

I'll write about my high school years later today. Right now, I need to go get my laundry out of the dryer and go get something for...whatever meal you eat at 3:30 p.m. when it's the first meal of the day.

Now that the immediate, squealing, excitement of deciding to go north has worn off, I'm left with something of a dilemma.

 

You see, most of the friends I'll be seeing don't know about my departure from the Roman Catholic Church. Now, that might not be a big deal, but I was a hopeless church nerd during my college and young adult days. I was active in Campus Ministry at Gannon, and thus most of my friends were, too. I was active in my parish in Pittsburgh, and most of my friends came from that experience.

 

It still might not be a big deal, but one of the activities planned is a Mass at the ol' alma mater. Questions, I'm afraid, may arise if I go to Mass but don't received communion. I have too much respect for the Eucharist to not respect the RCC's rules for reception. I wouldn't be the only one not receiving as at least one other person who will be there is Protestant, but unless there is something I don't know, I'll be the only one who used to be Roman Catholic. I suppose people could assume that I was in a state of grave sin, and hadn't gone to Confession (not that that is much better).

 

The really hard part is that I was on pace to do this whole...departure thing when I was first starting college. I fully assumed that I would start attending and become involved with either a Lutheran or Episcopal church up there. But, I got pulled into campus ministry, and felt, for the first time ever, that I had a place in the Roman Catholic Church.

 

So if the issue comes up, what do I say?

 

• "I got tired of saying one thing publically in my teaching role within the church and believing something else privately"?
• "I was deeply hurt by politics and hierarchy, and it was enough to send me searching"?
• "I found that pretending to not mind the second-class status that lay women (especially single, lay women) are inflicted with to be very frustrating"?
• "I woke up one morning and realized that those subtle differences in theology really make a buttload of difference when you add them all up, and I wound up on the side of Luther"?
• "Life changed me. I grew, and prayed, and thought, and prayed, and worked, and prayed, and the Big Guy just lead me to where I am now"?

I may be playing the part of the cowardly lion, but I hope the issue doesn't come up. I'm not a different person. I never lost my faith (exactly), and I never lost touch with God. My understanding of the intellectual part of faith has changed, and I choose to practice in a slightly different way in a slightly different community. But I am still fundamentally the same person, if a little more damaged and a lot more spiritually fulfilled (that is, when I don't have to spend my whole blessed life at work),

On my last post, LP asked what Eat'n Park was, and if it was similar to Sonic. The answer to that is no...and yest.

 

In its earliest days, Eat'n Park is exactly what Sonic is today - a drive in, the kind where you order from your car and a carhop brings your food to you (for you Yankees uninitiated to the wonder that is Sonic. If you are ever in the south, you must get a vanilla coke (the kind where the put the syrup in the Coke afterwards) or a strawberry slush, made with real fruit).

 

Today Eat'n Park is a chain of family restaurants across Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia. It can best described by saying it is a step above IHOP, and a step below Applebee's. They have good, unpretentious food at reasonable prices. And they are famous for the Smiley Cookies they give to kids, which are actually kind of gross, but traditional, nonetheless.

 

Eat'n Park was THE restaurant most of the people I grew up with went to. You could take your family out to eat at a sit-down restaurant without going broke. They have awesome breakfast, too.

 

The closest thing we have here in BR is Picadilly, which has the same kind of food, but is a cafeteria-type place. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that is the biggest thing I miss about home. And I'll be there on a Sunday, when, according to the website, they have Cream of Potato soup, which is the best Cream of Potato soup you will ever, ever, have.

 

I can't wait. Between that and Primanti's (where they put coleslaw and french fries ON the sandwiches)...I don't know what I'm looking forward to more.

And the best thing is...

...I get to eat at Eat 'n' Park!

So I'm heading back to the north the next to last weekend in June. I'll get to see some old friends, so I'm excited. I also get to stay in a Motel 6. Not quite as excited about that!

Oh, did I ever tell you my new computer came? It did and I love it!

Go read this article.

The parochial vicar in the parish I grew up in left the diocese (well, he is still technically attached to the diocese - just on military assignment) to become a military chaplain in the Air Force the summer before I started 3rd grade. He was a great guy. I think about him a lot, and wonder what he is doing now (he isn't near retirement age yet, as he was very young at the time - though I didn't think so when I was 8!).

I'd imagine that would be one of the toughest calls for a clergy person to have, especially in war time. I couldn't imagine having to counsel a person who just had to kill someone in the line of duty, or who saw some of the atrocities that people commit on other people, supposedly in the name of God, in this particualr war (and yes, I know it should more correctly be Allah in this case, but I'm choosing to use the Big Guy's generic name, rather than the one that Islam uses).

I've known a few other military chaplains who have served in the reserves, all of whom have been called to active duty at various times. All of them are Roman Catholic priests, and all are good men. In talking with them, every single one has said that they have been changed by their experiences in ways they just can't describe. At least one had to leave active ministry for a while to recover from PTSD.

I'm not little-miss-flag-waving-patriot-who-thinks-this-country-would-be-better-off-as-a-theocracy-run-by-the-religious-right, but I admire the men and women who take on the mission of a military chaplaincy. To be a confidant, a parental figure, a comforter, and just a human touch to military personnel is a real gift, and a real manifestation of God in the world.

This article was interesting to me only to show how times have changed.

 

My high school yearbook had  a picture that was taken at a "Calculus Party," a gathering where the students in Calculus (there were only 12 of us) got together to supposedly study for an upcoming test. The picture showed a 2-liter bottle of Peps, a fifth of vodka, a fifth of Whiskey, and a case of Coors Lite. I only went to one of these parties. When I saw the alcohol present, I called my dad to come get me. I wasn't taking any chances on anything screwing up my shot at scholarship money. Yeah, I was a goody-twoshoes.

 

The year book also had a picture of a cake the drill team made for the football players. In the corner of the cake, it says, "P.S. Where's the keg?"

 

Now, no parents raised a fuss about that, or about the text in the senior section that talks about running from the police at Sheraden park (or Dunbar, or Crafton - can't remember which now - all three were (and are) heavy teen drinking spots)

 

No parents raised a fuss about any of that. And if they did, it certainly didn't make even the local news, let alone the AP. (Though if you ask nicely, I'll tell you about something my archnemisis SR did to call attention to herself that did make the local news - witch with a captial B that she was).

 

Don't know if parents getting up in arms about this is a good thing or not. On the one hand, it shows that they are actually taking an interest in their kids and their lives. On the other hand, it shows that parents are holding on to their kids's hands a lot longer than may be healthy, and not letting them have a little bit of a subversive subculture that teens have always had, and that I think helps them to gain their independence

 

Meh. Something to think about.

We have ants in the office. I'm going home. And showering. Like, 50 times, I think. Cause even though they probably aren't, I swear I can feel them crawling on me.

Oh, and I said it before and I'll say it again - my church REALLY needs to move the late service to 11:15. I got there at 11:03 again today, so I didn't go. I have a think about arriving late to church. Yes, I know it is irrational. Yes, I know God doesn't care if I miss the opening announcements. And yes, I know I sit in the back anyway and no one would know if I was late. Doesn't change the fact that I hate walking into a church even a minute late, and will not do it under any circumstances.

So, ah, if anyone wants to call and lobby on my behalf, it's the only Lutheran church in Baton Rouge named after a saint. I'll leave it up to you to do the research.

Three weeks post-op, and I'm in the midst of an all-nighter at work. Probably not a good thing. I may die soon. Just thought all of you nice people should know.

If you are wondering, here is what she looked like at 13.

I found this story really interesting.

I remember when all this happened in 2002. The girl lived in my neighborhood, and it was the first time that a kid in Pittsburgh was kidnapped and abused by someone they met on the internet. I was teaching at the time, and it prompted all kinds of paranoia at the school about whether or how to restrict internet access at the school, how much involvement the school should have with what a kid posts outside of school, and what parents should be doing at home. That semester, we had no fewer than 5 workshosp on internet saftey for parents, and two for us teachers.

I also remember how everyone thought that both the girl and her parents were behaving really inappropriately after she was brought back. They sought out media attention, and the had the girl dressed like...well, not like a 13 year old. We wondered what kind of parent would let their daughter dress and wear the kinds of makeup she had on in the photos she had posted to the internet (she most definitely did not look 13 - hell, she most definitely did not look 18. VERY provocative). We wondered how a 13 year old could sneak out of the house like that - apparently it wasn't even that late - without her parents (who were home) noticing.

I'm glad this girl seems to have grown up well, even if she does apparently still have a yen for the spotlight. I hope things continue to go well for her.

Gyp!

Carnegie-Mellon University gets Bill Cosby as a commencement speaker.

Who did we have when I commenced from my beloved alma mater? An alum who was the former president of the San Diego Sewer Commission.

When I sell the Great American Novel, I am going to direct 50% of my royalties to my alma mater to put into a fund to get better commencement speakers. We may not be able to get Cosby, but I bet we could get...Pauly Shore. Or maybe Carrot Top (who actually performed on campus before he was someone - if he is someone now).

Politics and Religion

But first, two random things.

1. If you don't have a balance ball, you absolutely must get one. They are only about $25, and they are fun. And the workout DVD from Gaiam kicks your butt. I'm thinking of buying one for my desk at work because my chair is horrible and broken (I smashed my finger in it this weekend).

2. My stomach hurts. I was supposed to go into work today, too, but I didn't because who wants to sit at their desk when they have stomach cramps

3. As a bonus, the new Robin Williams movie looks amazingly stupid.

OK. We talk about politics a lot at work. No surprise, considering what we do and who we do it for. Here in south Louisiana, and I suppose in the South in general, that also necessitates discussing religion. And, needless to say, the media has been discussing politics, religion, and politics and religion a lot over this past week, given the death of You Know Who (I like the idea of casting Jerry Falwell as Voldemort. Sorry, God and J.K. Rowling).

All of my immediate co-workers fall somewhere on the left side of the political spectrum, ranging from right next to center to pretty far left. In terms of religion, though it is a whole 'nother ballgame.

My boss grew up Catholic, went to Catholic school, Catholic university, and even considered becoming a priest. Just one hitch - he's gay. Needless to say, the Catholic church wasn't the most hospitable and supporting environment to come to terms with your sexuality. He no longer practices any religion, but would probably describe himself as a Christian Humanist, with overtones of Buhddism.

Another co-worker was raised Southern Baptist, in a family full of preachers. Yeah, he rebelled. A lot. He no longer practices anything either, but would probably agree that he is culturally Christian.

My final co-worker (we are a very small department, but growing by 2 in the next two weeks) was raised by academics who were not involved in any religion at all. She could be considered, at most, agnostic, but still culturally Christian, thanks to being raised in south Louisiana, where the Catholic church is imbued in every aspect of society.

Then there is me. Raised Catholic by a Catholic father (who, interestingly, also considered the priesthood) and a Lutheran mother. I never rebelled as a child, or really, as an adult. I've taken a couple hiatuses from the active practice of my faith for a variety of reasons, but not actually from belief. And in the past couple of years, I've realized that I am more comfortable in the Lutheran Church than in the Catholic Church for a variety of theological reasons (I've written about them briefly in the past, perhaps I'll go into more detail if someone asks nicely).

Now, what does this have to do with politics? Plenty. With very few exceptions (most of them residing in the two Lutheran congregations in town and the UCC congregation), being Christian in this city means being Republican and conservative. Even most of the Catholics I've encountered are Republican, which is a direct contrast to the Northeast. If it comes out, that you are an active Christian, people assume that you love W, support the Iraq War, oppose legalized abortion and stem cell research, and think the death penalty should be applied more frequently.

So at first, I kind of shocked my coworkers when I agreed with their more liberal viewpoints. But the interesting thing to me is that we arrive at those conclusions for different reasons. I believe in some kind of universal healthcare because I take seriously Christ's instruction to care for the least among us. I believe that we should be out of Iraq because there are innocent lives being lost for no reason - there is no justice in this war. I believe in the importance of stem cell research because I believe that knowledge is a gift from God, and if the researchers are able to use their knowledge and embyros that would otherwise be destroyed to save lives, that must be a gift as well. And I believe the death penalty is wrong because it denies the possibility of true repentance, forgiveness, and redemption. (I'm choosing not to discuss abortion here, because my thoughts on this issue would fill pages themselves, and to summarize them in a sentence would be to be misunderstood).

Today, no fewer than three Sunday political shows I watched and/or listened to discussed whether or not there was anyone from the evangelical movement prepared to fill Jerry Falwell's shoes. They discussed the usual suspects, and added in a few "hot" names - Rick Warren, Jim Wallis, some guy in Florida, etc. They said the interesting thing about these new guys is that they believe that as important as the hot-button issues of the Republican Party are (abortion, immigration, same-sex relationships) are, they are so focused on the moral message of the Gospel, that they are ignoring Christ's compassion. These contemporary messangers of the religious right (though I might argue against putting Wallis in there) support AIDS research and assistance for Africa. They are all about environmental issues. While they are against amnesty for illegal immigrants, they believe in providing humanitarian aid.

What does all this mean? I have no idea. I do know that I still firmly believe that politics and religion should not be bedfellows under any circumstances. I believe that separation of church and state exists to protect both entities. And though I support funding faith-based agencies that provide human services, I believe those agencies should not prosletyse or preach, unless their clients specifically request such action.

I suppose all this is just to say that I have a proposal to work on and I don't want to. It was this, or my rant about the education system in the country, and I don't have what I want to say about that fully formed.

I'm going back to my proposal now. If I get bored, expect my thoughts on stained glass windows. They are many and varied.

Here is a question to ponder:

Why do large, multiple bedroom apartments in desireable areas of Pittsburgh rent for less than small, one bedrooms in undesireable areas of Baton Rouge?

I just saw a 2 bedroom, 1300 sq ft apartment, newly renovated, in Shadyside that is renting for only $90 more than my 450 sq ft craphole in Baton Rouge.

In fact, a one bedroom condo in the monstrosity that is going up next to my building, 1100 square feet, is selling for $260K.

What is wrong with people?

Or maybe, what is wrong with the managment company that owns my building and is putting up the condos next door?

Jerry Falwell.

On the one hand, it isn't on to think or speak ill of the dead, especially on who lived his life according to what he thought God was telling him to do (however misguided that may have been).

On the other hand, it is hard not to think ill of someone who said some pretty odius things over the years, like these.

I'm not going to comdemn him, or assume he is in hell like so many of the bloggers I read have done. I don't have that right.

Instead, I am going to say nothing, except to offer prayers of sympathy for his family.

The end.

I Did It!

I was braved and clicked the send button. I am the now the new owner of a brand new laptop, the single most expensive thing I have ever bought (if you don't count the transimission for my car - actually, the two are just about tied). I am also the new owner of a digital camera.

 

Next thing you know, I'll be giving into the evil cable company.

 

I'm going home. I don't feel good today.  I'm sore, my incision hurts, and my stomach isn't quite right. Plus my throat hurts.

 

I hope I'm not coming down with something...