Blah Blah-Blah Blah Blah

Yes, the week from hell is over. This week seems to much calmer: the calendar has virtually nothing on it! I'm sure that will change, but for now, I'm quite pleased.

Youth Sunday went exceptionally well. I tend to be (ahem) overly critical, but I really could find nothing to really get upset about. Even the faux pas (what is the plural of that? Or is that the plural of something else?) were manageable: "...Jews and Genitals..." (woops, need to work on the pronunciation, girls!), and the fact that the prayers ended up in the bulletin in a different place than we had them so things just went a little weird, but the person doing the prayers recovered magnificently. The two major issues were grownup problems (too much food for coffee hour afterwards because someone else thought it was her week), and a call I forgot to make to someone to say we didn't need her 5-year-old for the service after all. Of those two issues, the latter upsets me more.

The afternoon? I took a nap. I watched Sparky place Zelda...Somethingorother, we walked through our trip to Tennessee et al. and figured out what/where/when stuff, and we looked at cameras. Again. Sign. I'm hoping when Beast gets off the phone with his folks he orders the camera we've selected (or at least by tomorrow he does it) and we'll have a new digital one SOON. And I need to call my niece and say, "Yes, please book the hotel for one more night if possible. Or should I call the manager?"

[Pause for nyah-nyah excitement: the Bulls beat the Heat. I hate pro basketball, but it was nice to see a bunch of nobodies been all the overpriced babies from Miami. At least, according to Beast; I have no clue whatsoever.]

Tomorrow it's back to work on the pirate stuff for the dance. And Sparky has his interview with the forensics person at the county sheriff's office in the afternoon. I need to get to the store, too. But these are manageable things that don't require rearranging the schedule for the full week.

Hurrah. Now to go find out how much a pop vending machine costs at Sam's Club.

Don't ask.