I'm back. (I love living in a house rather than a mobile home.)
I'm exhausted. (I love sleeping in my own bed.)
I'm nowhere near as sore as I anticipated being. (Apparently, shelving on low shelves and weeding share the same muscle set.)
I'm clean. (Using a grody school locker-room for daily 3-minute showers that are either 120-plus degrees or 50-degrees--but never both mixed together!--does not promote good hygiene.)
I'm footsore. (I probably walked 5 miles every day, and/or stood for 6 hours every day, this week.)
I'm appreciative of the weirdest, smallest things. (Privacy while showering, small mosquitoes, having just one child--and a son!--of my own, bedroom windows more than 10" off the ground, not having to shout a color every time someone burps....)
Showing posts with label Teenage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teenage. Show all posts
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Upsetting
I grew up in Colorado, in a suburb of Denver. My parents and I went to church about 3 miles from my house, in yet another suburb. That church was and is 2.5 miles as the crow flies from Columbine High School. When I was in high school in the late 70s and early 80s, many of the other teens at my church went to school at Columbine.
So, on April19 20, 1999, I watched with the same profound shock and horror as the rest of the country as two boys destroyed any shards of any feeling of safety we had left about our country's schools. The acrid icing on that poisonous cake was that I knew alumni, I knew the community, I knew the places the national media was talking about: Swedish Medical Center (I was a candystriper there), Clement Park (teen hangout), Ken Caryl Ranch (lots of our church members lived there), and so on.
Knowing the area, of course, didn't make the event any more comprehensible. The explanations that the media quickly began to promote didn't make a lot of sense either. And that school's architecture is forever etched in my brain as a building I don't want to be near. Ever.
In 2001, we went to visit my family (who now live elsewhere in Colorado) and stopped in Denver for a couple of days. One of those days was a Sunday, so we went back to "my" church. There were a few discrete items in the building and moments during the service where the presence of the killings loomed large, even two years later.
The next day, we went to visit all the family graves (most of my family is in two large cemeteries on different sides of the city). As we drove through the cemetery looking for my father's burial site, we slowly approached 13 crosses standing in an "island" in the roadway. My father's resting place is about 25 feet from the official memorial for the Columbine victims. I believe those crosses were wooden at that time. They have since been replaced by 8'-tall black granite crosses. (If you watch the virtual tour here, you'll see the crosses at the end, briefly.)
Aside: my father built the original mortuary at this cemetery in the mid-1960s. He was paid, at least in part, in kind: four burial plots.
ANYWAY. I'm reading the book pictured here--Dave Cullen's "Columbine." It is very detailed, easy to read...and I've been trying hard not to read it at bedtime so that it doesn't affect my dreams too much.
I am about 2/3 through the book. I may have to stop reading it. I spent part of today compulsively Googling factoids, drawings, schematics, and photos since the book itself is all text. And I came across a photo today that I never should have embiggened. I knew when I saw it small that clicking on it would be a bad idea. And I watched my hand as the index finger banged down on the left mouse button anyway. Now I can't get the image out of my head, and it only fueled my compulsion to do more research.
I know that what I'm looking for is twofold: 1) Why did Harris and Klebold do what they did? and 2) How can I be sure that my son will never, ever, be involved in something like this? I know that reading this book is not going to answer either of those questions. It's the same quandary I had in 1999 immediately after the shootings happened, and after 9/11, and all the other times when I've wanted nothing more than to go far away from the world and protect my son from Everything Bad. The panic will pass. In the meantime, I can't help but look at every passing teenager with the thought "This could be the one. Or that one could be...."
The mission trip in a week--where I'm surrounded by 60 high school kids 24/7--could be fun if I don't get over this tout de suite. Anxiety + paranoia is not a great frame of mind to be in anyway. It makes for difficulty in concentration among other things. There are no answers, and eventually I'll get back to accepting that fact.
So, on April
Knowing the area, of course, didn't make the event any more comprehensible. The explanations that the media quickly began to promote didn't make a lot of sense either. And that school's architecture is forever etched in my brain as a building I don't want to be near. Ever.
In 2001, we went to visit my family (who now live elsewhere in Colorado) and stopped in Denver for a couple of days. One of those days was a Sunday, so we went back to "my" church. There were a few discrete items in the building and moments during the service where the presence of the killings loomed large, even two years later.
The next day, we went to visit all the family graves (most of my family is in two large cemeteries on different sides of the city). As we drove through the cemetery looking for my father's burial site, we slowly approached 13 crosses standing in an "island" in the roadway. My father's resting place is about 25 feet from the official memorial for the Columbine victims. I believe those crosses were wooden at that time. They have since been replaced by 8'-tall black granite crosses. (If you watch the virtual tour here, you'll see the crosses at the end, briefly.)
Aside: my father built the original mortuary at this cemetery in the mid-1960s. He was paid, at least in part, in kind: four burial plots.
ANYWAY. I'm reading the book pictured here--Dave Cullen's "Columbine." It is very detailed, easy to read...and I've been trying hard not to read it at bedtime so that it doesn't affect my dreams too much.
I am about 2/3 through the book. I may have to stop reading it. I spent part of today compulsively Googling factoids, drawings, schematics, and photos since the book itself is all text. And I came across a photo today that I never should have embiggened. I knew when I saw it small that clicking on it would be a bad idea. And I watched my hand as the index finger banged down on the left mouse button anyway. Now I can't get the image out of my head, and it only fueled my compulsion to do more research.
I know that what I'm looking for is twofold: 1) Why did Harris and Klebold do what they did? and 2) How can I be sure that my son will never, ever, be involved in something like this? I know that reading this book is not going to answer either of those questions. It's the same quandary I had in 1999 immediately after the shootings happened, and after 9/11, and all the other times when I've wanted nothing more than to go far away from the world and protect my son from Everything Bad. The panic will pass. In the meantime, I can't help but look at every passing teenager with the thought "This could be the one. Or that one could be...."
The mission trip in a week--where I'm surrounded by 60 high school kids 24/7--could be fun if I don't get over this tout de suite. Anxiety + paranoia is not a great frame of mind to be in anyway. It makes for difficulty in concentration among other things. There are no answers, and eventually I'll get back to accepting that fact.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Weird Day
Yesterday was a strange day at work. Part--most?--of that strangeness can be attributed directed to the fact that, starting Monday, we will have two Directors for a week. There is a great deal of time being spent thinking about that, planning for the current Director's going-away party, thinking about what we need to find out from her before she's gone, tying up loose-ends of projects, etc. The staff is doing a special presentation and there was a lot of talk about that (when the boss wasn't in the room).
About midway through the day, I suddenly realized that everyone had received a 'script' for the party via email. Except, that is, me. It was inadvertent, I'm sure, but it explained the sort of low-level cluelessness I'd been experiencing all week. I knew something was percolating because people were talking about it out loud, but then they'd say something about squirrels (I kid you not) and I'd think, "What?"
Yes, part of our presentation involves squirrels.
Being aware enough to know that I was missing something is paranoia-inducing, especially since there are some other, actual, paranoia-inducing things going on at work right now as we prepare to start working for the first new Director the library has had since the early 1970s. I hasten to say that I know from prior experience that things could be MUCH MUCH worse. The last time I worked a 'regime change' was horror-inducing. This will be a breeze, no matter how angsty everyone gets!
But some other weird stuff was going on too. It is the end of the month so I was working up the cataloging stats. Weirdly, this is something I generally find very calming. I've only recently started doing this for the boss, so I still have to think through each and every step. When I got to the main stats document I was lost. Fortunately, she was nearby to ask, "Where do I put May??" Er, duh, Cat.: new budget year. New spreadsheet. New new new ... everything. I figured it out, after much faffing about. There was some intense praying that I didn't manage to delete last year's entire accounting document. In fact, I had to keep getting up and walking around to clear my head enough to ensure I wasn't jumping to conclusions before deleting/saving over docs.
[Realized as I typed this that I left out a piece--rats! Fortunately, it's a piece that I keep for my own joy, so it's not a big deal. The numbers are there; I'll just have to do it on Tuesday.]
Because of all the up-and-down, plus the Public Desk schedule, plus trying to tie of other projects including entering order records into the catalog all morning (that always makes my brain itch) and running the July Hot Books in Publishing list, I felt like I had a big case of ADD.
Did I mention the scheduled eyedrop breaks? Yeah. The eyes are better but they require constant maintenance and coddling. As, apparently, they will for the rest of my life. I will be single-handedly supporting the individually packaged Refresh et al. market. Absolutely nothing with a preservative can go in my eyes. And the Greek chorus shouts, "THANK GOD I am alive now, not 50 years ago when there was no understanding of this sort of thing, no options, and I would probably be legally blind by now."
And finally...while I was at the Reference Desk, a woman came up to me, seething with fury. She claimed that while she was away from her internet station briefly (to put money on her print account, 10 feet away), someone sat down at it and "deleted" the pages of work she was just about to print. So, yeah, I'd be furious too, but then she said something to the effect of "This is why I wish I carried a gun!"
Gulp. I suggested, strongly, that this would not solve the problem, and she should CERtainly not bring a gun to the library for this purpose.
As I got to thinking about it, I am pretty sure that she had to wait awhile for staff to put money on her account and the computer she was using timed out and shut down. The guy who came and sat down there had no way of knowing she had been using it at that point.
Eventually, I asked her if she had said anything to him. "No. I'm too angry and I might say something...." Yeah, something out of line maybe?! But on the other hand, there is a sudden stench of passive-aggressive here. I'm not either person's mom, and by the age she is she should be able to stand up for herself.
When she finally finished up she stopped at the desk and said, "That guy just left a few minutes ago. Maybe I can catch him in the parking lot and punch him." I reiterated that she shouldn't do this on library property. Now I'm wondering if I should have called the cops. Would I if she'd been a Big Scary Guy? I didn't because I rationalized that if she was too much of a wienie to talk to him, she was not likely to punch him. And had I really thought she might have a gun, I might have at least followed her to the parking lot to keep an eye on her.
That situation was exacerbated by the book I'm reading: Columbine. It's probably NOT the best book to read, as I did Thursday night, in bed before going to sleep. Definitely not if you have or know teenage kids, or have spent any quality time in a school recently.
However, it did bring about an epiphany of understanding about why a certain architectural feature at Sparky's school freaks me the fuck out. Every time I walk into the building, I shudder, and now I know why--it reminds me of a bit of the blueprint of the area in which most of the killing took place at Columbine. [The design is different enough that now that I know WHY it gives me the wobblies, I can start working on letting go of them.]
Bookending the day was a nice walk from and back to our favorite service station where I had left the Honda to have a lug nut replaced. Beast got a little carried away while fixing the brakes a couple of weeks ago. So I drove it to Bob's in the morning, left the keys, walked to work, and reversed the process at the end of the day. Both walks took place with perfect-in-every-way weather (temperature and humidity were moderate and the sun was shining), and because there was a train at the station on my way to pick up the car there was no traffic as I walked across the street, even though 5 minutes later I could barely drive out of the parking lot.
The capper to the weirdness, I think, is that Beast is the most relaxed I've seen him in months. Which is odd, considering his job situation and the uncertainty around that. On the other hand, the other shoe has dropped. And that, at least, is over.
I'm hoping for Less Weird today. Grocery shopping, weeding, dropping off Sparky's job apps, visiting an elderly friend, cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms.... Boring is fun. ;-)
About midway through the day, I suddenly realized that everyone had received a 'script' for the party via email. Except, that is, me. It was inadvertent, I'm sure, but it explained the sort of low-level cluelessness I'd been experiencing all week. I knew something was percolating because people were talking about it out loud, but then they'd say something about squirrels (I kid you not) and I'd think, "What?"
Yes, part of our presentation involves squirrels.
Being aware enough to know that I was missing something is paranoia-inducing, especially since there are some other, actual, paranoia-inducing things going on at work right now as we prepare to start working for the first new Director the library has had since the early 1970s. I hasten to say that I know from prior experience that things could be MUCH MUCH worse. The last time I worked a 'regime change' was horror-inducing. This will be a breeze, no matter how angsty everyone gets!
But some other weird stuff was going on too. It is the end of the month so I was working up the cataloging stats. Weirdly, this is something I generally find very calming. I've only recently started doing this for the boss, so I still have to think through each and every step. When I got to the main stats document I was lost. Fortunately, she was nearby to ask, "Where do I put May??" Er, duh, Cat.: new budget year. New spreadsheet. New new new ... everything. I figured it out, after much faffing about. There was some intense praying that I didn't manage to delete last year's entire accounting document. In fact, I had to keep getting up and walking around to clear my head enough to ensure I wasn't jumping to conclusions before deleting/saving over docs.
[Realized as I typed this that I left out a piece--rats! Fortunately, it's a piece that I keep for my own joy, so it's not a big deal. The numbers are there; I'll just have to do it on Tuesday.]
Because of all the up-and-down, plus the Public Desk schedule, plus trying to tie of other projects including entering order records into the catalog all morning (that always makes my brain itch) and running the July Hot Books in Publishing list, I felt like I had a big case of ADD.
Did I mention the scheduled eyedrop breaks? Yeah. The eyes are better but they require constant maintenance and coddling. As, apparently, they will for the rest of my life. I will be single-handedly supporting the individually packaged Refresh et al. market. Absolutely nothing with a preservative can go in my eyes. And the Greek chorus shouts, "THANK GOD I am alive now, not 50 years ago when there was no understanding of this sort of thing, no options, and I would probably be legally blind by now."
And finally...while I was at the Reference Desk, a woman came up to me, seething with fury. She claimed that while she was away from her internet station briefly (to put money on her print account, 10 feet away), someone sat down at it and "deleted" the pages of work she was just about to print. So, yeah, I'd be furious too, but then she said something to the effect of "This is why I wish I carried a gun!"
Gulp. I suggested, strongly, that this would not solve the problem, and she should CERtainly not bring a gun to the library for this purpose.
As I got to thinking about it, I am pretty sure that she had to wait awhile for staff to put money on her account and the computer she was using timed out and shut down. The guy who came and sat down there had no way of knowing she had been using it at that point.
Eventually, I asked her if she had said anything to him. "No. I'm too angry and I might say something...." Yeah, something out of line maybe?! But on the other hand, there is a sudden stench of passive-aggressive here. I'm not either person's mom, and by the age she is she should be able to stand up for herself.
When she finally finished up she stopped at the desk and said, "That guy just left a few minutes ago. Maybe I can catch him in the parking lot and punch him." I reiterated that she shouldn't do this on library property. Now I'm wondering if I should have called the cops. Would I if she'd been a Big Scary Guy? I didn't because I rationalized that if she was too much of a wienie to talk to him, she was not likely to punch him. And had I really thought she might have a gun, I might have at least followed her to the parking lot to keep an eye on her.
That situation was exacerbated by the book I'm reading: Columbine. It's probably NOT the best book to read, as I did Thursday night, in bed before going to sleep. Definitely not if you have or know teenage kids, or have spent any quality time in a school recently.
However, it did bring about an epiphany of understanding about why a certain architectural feature at Sparky's school freaks me the fuck out. Every time I walk into the building, I shudder, and now I know why--it reminds me of a bit of the blueprint of the area in which most of the killing took place at Columbine. [The design is different enough that now that I know WHY it gives me the wobblies, I can start working on letting go of them.]
Bookending the day was a nice walk from and back to our favorite service station where I had left the Honda to have a lug nut replaced. Beast got a little carried away while fixing the brakes a couple of weeks ago. So I drove it to Bob's in the morning, left the keys, walked to work, and reversed the process at the end of the day. Both walks took place with perfect-in-every-way weather (temperature and humidity were moderate and the sun was shining), and because there was a train at the station on my way to pick up the car there was no traffic as I walked across the street, even though 5 minutes later I could barely drive out of the parking lot.
The capper to the weirdness, I think, is that Beast is the most relaxed I've seen him in months. Which is odd, considering his job situation and the uncertainty around that. On the other hand, the other shoe has dropped. And that, at least, is over.
I'm hoping for Less Weird today. Grocery shopping, weeding, dropping off Sparky's job apps, visiting an elderly friend, cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms.... Boring is fun. ;-)
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Mah baby
...is escorting a friend to prom.
She's a junior so she wants to go but couldn't finagle a 'date' (i.e., scheme her way into getting a guy to ask her, so props to her). She Fb'd Sparky last night and asked if he was willing. [Cuz she has to get tickets tomorrow]
They'll have fun. He's like the official fallback position for several girls he knows.
I'm amused. Now we have to figure out this tux thing...
She's a junior so she wants to go but couldn't finagle a 'date' (i.e., scheme her way into getting a guy to ask her, so props to her). She Fb'd Sparky last night and asked if he was willing. [Cuz she has to get tickets tomorrow]
They'll have fun. He's like the official fallback position for several girls he knows.
I'm amused. Now we have to figure out this tux thing...
Friday, March 27, 2009
Dreams
One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite songs is "I dreamed about Ray Charles last night. He could see just fine."
I didn't dream about Ray Charles last night.
I dreamed we had two new people at our next youth group meeting (which was, as dreams are sometimes, wonky in several aspects unimportant to the actual dream). That's a bonus, A-plus thing. I was excited. The new kids were a boy and a girl, the girl sitting at the table and the boy playing catch across the room. Because there are just two boys who regularly attend the meetings usually, I was even more excited to see the guy, but I sat down to talk to the girl.
Then I noticed the baby carrier at her feet.
Yeah. We didn't just gain two new youth group members, we gained three: mom, dad, and baby. I asked her if they were from around here. She said they were both students the main local high school (and married)--which explains why the other kids were ... "elsewhere" in the room watching to see my reaction before they committed to this scenario.
And I woke up.
I woke with thoughts tumbling all around: Would I do the right thing? Would the girl and the rest of the group notice my unsureness, my shock (notice that I assumed the boy wouldn't?)? Were the other leader group leader and Beast going to freak? Where did these kids come from? Why did they just suddenly turn up at youth group--not so much because of "the situation," more what was the context of two unknown people appearing? Underlying it all was the sense of "Well, here's a new challenge, God. Always looking out for those, aren't You? Thanks!"
The worst part of this is that as I'm writing this, I'm already missing these kids, these people I don't even know. I'm worrying about them, and weeping.
I didn't dream about Ray Charles last night.
I dreamed we had two new people at our next youth group meeting (which was, as dreams are sometimes, wonky in several aspects unimportant to the actual dream). That's a bonus, A-plus thing. I was excited. The new kids were a boy and a girl, the girl sitting at the table and the boy playing catch across the room. Because there are just two boys who regularly attend the meetings usually, I was even more excited to see the guy, but I sat down to talk to the girl.
Then I noticed the baby carrier at her feet.
Yeah. We didn't just gain two new youth group members, we gained three: mom, dad, and baby. I asked her if they were from around here. She said they were both students the main local high school (and married)--which explains why the other kids were ... "elsewhere" in the room watching to see my reaction before they committed to this scenario.
And I woke up.
I woke with thoughts tumbling all around: Would I do the right thing? Would the girl and the rest of the group notice my unsureness, my shock (notice that I assumed the boy wouldn't?)? Were the other leader group leader and Beast going to freak? Where did these kids come from? Why did they just suddenly turn up at youth group--not so much because of "the situation," more what was the context of two unknown people appearing? Underlying it all was the sense of "Well, here's a new challenge, God. Always looking out for those, aren't You? Thanks!"
The worst part of this is that as I'm writing this, I'm already missing these kids, these people I don't even know. I'm worrying about them, and weeping.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
People, really: Libraries are NOT safe places!!
So please, please, don't just dump your kids there and assume everything will be fine. Usually things go smoothly, but sometimes they don't.
Those of you who have been around awhile may remember this incident of inappropriate library behavior.
At least that incident was at least more or less consensual. The one today was--allegedly--not. Again, a 19-year-old was arrested, and again a minor was involved (not the same one as last time). This particular minor used to attend storytime with my son. This kid's mother just died last summer, and apparently the kid didn't want to call the police because Dad is drinking a lot more than he used to and isn't handling things well.
My heart hurts. And I'm very, very angry.
Those of you who have been around awhile may remember this incident of inappropriate library behavior.
At least that incident was at least more or less consensual. The one today was--allegedly--not. Again, a 19-year-old was arrested, and again a minor was involved (not the same one as last time). This particular minor used to attend storytime with my son. This kid's mother just died last summer, and apparently the kid didn't want to call the police because Dad is drinking a lot more than he used to and isn't handling things well.
My heart hurts. And I'm very, very angry.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Drama
Sparky stayed after school yesterday to lift weights. He's doing that to prepare for football tryouts. Whatever. Meanwhile, I had to do a presentation for a Girl Scout troop at work so we knew he'd have to wait a bit when he finished.
He called just as I started the presentation saying he couldn't find his wallet. There was no way I could stop what I was doing, so I told him he'd have to work it out with his coach.
No dice. They looked everywhere. We finally decided that it must have fallen out when he changed pants and landed unnoticed on the floor where someone picked it up. He was devastated. Angry, upset, crying, yelling...yeah. Fun night.
Fast forward to this morning. I went with him to school to talk to the administrators. The vice principal took a report and said she'd investigate. I asked about the police and she sort of treated it as if I wanted to make an insurance claim (?!). Whatever again. I went to the cops directly from school and reported the theft.
Long story short, the officer went over and interviewed several students and eventually the wallet was recovered, minus Sparky's driving permit and yearbook receipt. He got all the cash and gift cards and library card back, though. Turns out the doofus hadn't actually closed his locker after changing; the other kid saw the wallet in the open locker and snagged it.
So what did I learn? Go to the cops first. Involve the school second. There is at least one cop in our town that is hysterically funny, and just a good guy. [He 'yelled' at Sparky for having such awful handwriting in the statement he wrote up last night.]
So at some point this week, we have to face down the licensing people and get a replacement permit. And I'll talk to the yearbook people at school about the situation--he's supposed to present the receipt to pick up his book in May. Since I volunteer with the people coordinating the yearbook, it's kinda not gonna be a problem.
We have not been told the name of the student who did this, but he has been suspended for a week (I think) and I'm sure the grapevine will pass along his name to Sparky PDQ. I feel bad for his parents, who had to stand there and watch the cop search their son's dirty laundry today. I'm very grateful it wasn't us on that side of the equation. Hopefully, Sparky learned a few lessons from this. For one thing, maybe carrying $100+ in gift cards in your wallet is kind of a stupid idea. Especially to school! d'oh
And it turned out all right, for us. Silver linings.
He called just as I started the presentation saying he couldn't find his wallet. There was no way I could stop what I was doing, so I told him he'd have to work it out with his coach.
No dice. They looked everywhere. We finally decided that it must have fallen out when he changed pants and landed unnoticed on the floor where someone picked it up. He was devastated. Angry, upset, crying, yelling...yeah. Fun night.
Fast forward to this morning. I went with him to school to talk to the administrators. The vice principal took a report and said she'd investigate. I asked about the police and she sort of treated it as if I wanted to make an insurance claim (?!). Whatever again. I went to the cops directly from school and reported the theft.
Long story short, the officer went over and interviewed several students and eventually the wallet was recovered, minus Sparky's driving permit and yearbook receipt. He got all the cash and gift cards and library card back, though. Turns out the doofus hadn't actually closed his locker after changing; the other kid saw the wallet in the open locker and snagged it.
So what did I learn? Go to the cops first. Involve the school second. There is at least one cop in our town that is hysterically funny, and just a good guy. [He 'yelled' at Sparky for having such awful handwriting in the statement he wrote up last night.]
So at some point this week, we have to face down the licensing people and get a replacement permit. And I'll talk to the yearbook people at school about the situation--he's supposed to present the receipt to pick up his book in May. Since I volunteer with the people coordinating the yearbook, it's kinda not gonna be a problem.
We have not been told the name of the student who did this, but he has been suspended for a week (I think) and I'm sure the grapevine will pass along his name to Sparky PDQ. I feel bad for his parents, who had to stand there and watch the cop search their son's dirty laundry today. I'm very grateful it wasn't us on that side of the equation. Hopefully, Sparky learned a few lessons from this. For one thing, maybe carrying $100+ in gift cards in your wallet is kind of a stupid idea. Especially to school! d'oh
And it turned out all right, for us. Silver linings.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Busy busy
Mood: goodThis was a big weekend, one of those when there were at least two things going on at all times, choices to make about where to be and which option to choose.
Hair: blown out and that's it so far
Eyes: sleepy
Listening to: the toaster ticking
Friday was my sister Ellen's 59th birthday. That can't be right, but it is. That means I'm the age now that she was when the cancer started growing in her. Signpost.
Saturday when I got to work, I found confirmation of some big news. No: HEE-YUUUUUGE news. 2009 is going to be...interesting. And I cataloged 100 books on the same day I was at the Reference desk for nearly half my day. Not that I did the cataloging at the Ref Desk...hell no! It was just a pleasantly quiet day; no drama, no freaking out. Some of the people at MPOW can function as adults when faced with upcoming change.
Yesterday was Church Activity Day Times a Billion. It was Music Sunday at our church, and there was a Congregational Meeting to confirm the nominations for next years' slate of Elders and Deacons, and it was the last Session meeting of the year, which traditionally is when the old and new Session members and Deacons mingle and eat together. As Clerk of Session, it was a big day for those last two reasons.
However, the Clerk wasn't there. At the time of the Congregational Meeting, the Clerk (with the Chair of the Nominating Committee and ten other people) was on a train with a lot of people wearing blue and orange and heavy winter clothing. At the time of the luncheon/meeting, we were exiting a Really Fancy Church and getting ready to hit the streets. Actually, most of us pretty much stuck around here, although some braver souls ventured to neighboring shopping emporia like Borders and the Hershey Store. By 3:30 we were on the bus back to the train, where we rode with some of the same blue- and orange-dressed people we'd seen in the morning.
This is an annual tradition for our church's youth group, one which we inherited from previous leaders. It's important because they (we) get to experience a worship service that is Presbyterian but wholly different in tone from our church. Many of the kids over the years have noted that they've never 1) ridden the train, 2) taken a city bus, 3) been to the Big City to the East...before this trip. These are high school kids--that boggles my mind. By the time I was in high school I was riding the bus in Denver, and had been all over the place outside my little area of the universe. I'd even ridden a train, though it was a tourist thing, not a commuter.
In any case, Beast and I spent the afternoon in the Borders cafe after purchasing puzzle books for each of us to work on. That's the extent of the shopping I did.
It was a fun day.
Coming up this week: printing off the dreaded Xmas letter and address labels, putting up the tree, etc., wrapping the presents I have and figuring out what I still need to buy (and maybe even shopping for 'em!), sending the parent letter out about the mission trip... Yeah, the fun just never stops around here.
Urban Word:
Mass Merchanditis: The hazy feeling one gets after spending too much time shopping at large chain stores including but not limited to Walmart, Home Depot, and Bed, Bath and Beyond. Characterized by a headache, dry eyes, blurred vision, blank stare, sore feet.
We were fortunate yesterday not to have the opportunity to experience mass merchanditis, though there was a small outbreak of "where's the exit?!" from one group trapped in Macy's.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Petty Is as Petty Does (Notes to Self)
Mood: SleepyAnnoyance: People who assume that working in a library means the employees have to behave like Glinda the Good Witch all the time, or who want my job so they can "read all day."
Hair: It's clean but the braid is ... in disarray
Eyes: Itchy
Listening to: NASCAR
Annoyance management: Seethe. Smile and roll eyes internally. Discreetly point out the lunatic across the room talking to him/herself. Ask if they'd rather clean the cart full of {filth of questionable origin}-encrusted picture books, or plunge the nearly-overflowing toilet in the children's room. Bite tongue. Remember not to say stupid things about other people's jobs in the future.
Annoyance: Allergy meds that cause unpleasant secondary symptoms.
Annoyance management: Stay away from allergens as much as possible. Take alternating cycles of acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Switch meds entirely. Move to a polar region.
Annoyance: Finding out that someone you admire can be unbearably holier-than-thou not to mention a bit passive-aggressive and thin-skinned about her own misbehavior.
Annoyance management: Point out unfairness of their behavior. Remove them from pedestal on which you placed them. Forgive them. Bite tongue. Remember not to behave that way in future.
Annoyance: Being the only person to show up at a celebratory event to which everyone at work was invited.
Annoyance management: Appreciate and fully enjoy the event. Be extra glad I showed up. Keep mouth shut at work unless someone else there mentions it.
Annoyance: Teenaged offspring and his behavior.
Annoyance management: Remember that the cooler we play it now, the better the relationship will be in the future. Enforce the rules, but be willing to renegotiate some of them. Bite tongue often.
Annoyance: Sudden lack of internet access at home.
Annoyance management: Do all the tricks we already know that usually fix the problem. Call provider. Do the new tricks they suggest. Try one more possibility after getting off the phone with them. Congratulate the brilliant person who thought of the last possibility that fixes the problem. Call provider and crow.
Note how many of these involve saying nothing and biting tongue. Do that more.
Urban Word:
Q.E.D.: A mathematician's way of saying "I win"
In social interaction, creating a Q.E.D. situation tends to mean it has not been a successful interaction.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Thursday stuff
Mood: Crank-a-danky
Hair: In the same braid I put it in this morning.
Eyes: Tired
Listening to: Jon Stewart (The Daily Show)
I work with a couple of really freakin' annoying people. 'nuf said. Thank God I have tomorrow off. I get the sense that this is National Cranky Cataloger Week, however, since others I've spoken with seem just as cheesed off as I am.
Aside from that, and in a spirit of Truth in Advertising: we had to replace our Roomba. Luckily, we bought the extended warranty at the Big Blue Store so it was only a matter of showing up with the one that stopped worked and bringing home the boxed-up new one. My advice to all who are considering getting one: get the warranty for $30 (or whatever).
I think Sparky needs a little help. His phone screen suddenly went psychedelic yesterday. Of course, both his parents immediately said, "Did you drop it/fall on it/hit it on something?" No, no, no, no, it was just sitting on the deck at J.'s house and the screen just went weird. Yeah. So, since Beast and I don't believe that for a second, if anyone can provide a better, or at least a more creative, reason for this occurrence let me know and I'll pass it along to him.
Sparky's friends--the ones who were supposed to be here on Monday except they forgot and made other plans--are supposedly coming tomorrow. We'll see if that works. So far this month, the two get-togethers Sparky has planned have gotten balled up. The night he went to spent at Z's house, there was no one home when we arrived. When Sparky called Z's cell and he and his dad returned home, it turned out they thought Sparky was coming the next night.
So, yeah. My son the social hangnail. But he's adorable and rather amusing.
Urban Word:
self helpless: The condition of somebody that is unable to deal with life, usually found sitting around a neglected apartment with bad hair and bad outfit.
My new goal with Sparky is to make sure he doesn't grow up to be completely self helpless, which is why we're tackling basic sewing this summer: buttons, pocket seams, etc.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Dazed
I have neglected to mention a startling occurrence from a few weeks ago.
Sparky and I were walking out of Wal-Mart (hey, it's the only gig in town that sells lettuce, men's black dress pants, and Benadryl!) when a tallish, geeky-ish strawberry-blonde wearing glasses came running at us. Well, running at Sparky, really. She threw herself into his arms, squealing his name from ten feet away. "I miiiisssss you!!!" Mind you, school had been out of session for, perhaps, two days at this point.
What's a mom to do? Sparky looked at me apologetically over her shoulder and when she finally let him go he said, "Mom, this is [Dazy]." She barely glanced at me, may have mumbled "hi." So, not good with grown-ups. They chatted, I fidgeted a little, we eventually left. Sparky was clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as I was, and I pretty much let it drop.
Last Friday when I was waiting to pick him up at school after his driving practice, he rounded the corner of the high school with [Dazy] bouncing along beside him. She really does move a lot like Tigger. Anyway, she needed a ride home: she'd been driving (in a separate car from Sparky's) and apparently her folks had told her they couldn't come get her so she had been bumming for a ride.
So, we crammed into the cab of my pickup. She barely spoke to me, thus cementing my impression of 'not good with grown-ups.' It was weird though: I took her to the local flop-hotel, but I think her family manages it judging by the unit she told me to stop at. And once she was out of the car I quizzed Sparky a bit more. She has a boyfriend, she doesn't interest him 'that way'--"Mo-ommmm!"--she's in the anime club. I didn't go too far, because I had a sudden memory of my sister picking me up from college freshman year and commenting for what seemed like forever on a guy who had been there when she arrived, a guy friend. It was ... icky.
While I was in California over the weekend, I had to use Sparky's cell phone. As I was waiting at the gate at the airport, I got a text message: "I luv u" from [Dazy]. I just remembered. I guess I should tell him about it, only a week later.
Who says our subconscious doesn't rule things? I had rather forgotten about [Dazy] until I woke up this morning with the vision of short strawberry-blond hair and geeky glasses in my brain.
Oh, and
HAPPY FOURTH
of JULY!
Sparky and I were walking out of Wal-Mart (hey, it's the only gig in town that sells lettuce, men's black dress pants, and Benadryl!) when a tallish, geeky-ish strawberry-blonde wearing glasses came running at us. Well, running at Sparky, really. She threw herself into his arms, squealing his name from ten feet away. "I miiiisssss you!!!" Mind you, school had been out of session for, perhaps, two days at this point.
What's a mom to do? Sparky looked at me apologetically over her shoulder and when she finally let him go he said, "Mom, this is [Dazy]." She barely glanced at me, may have mumbled "hi." So, not good with grown-ups. They chatted, I fidgeted a little, we eventually left. Sparky was clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as I was, and I pretty much let it drop.
Last Friday when I was waiting to pick him up at school after his driving practice, he rounded the corner of the high school with [Dazy] bouncing along beside him. She really does move a lot like Tigger. Anyway, she needed a ride home: she'd been driving (in a separate car from Sparky's) and apparently her folks had told her they couldn't come get her so she had been bumming for a ride.
So, we crammed into the cab of my pickup. She barely spoke to me, thus cementing my impression of 'not good with grown-ups.' It was weird though: I took her to the local flop-hotel, but I think her family manages it judging by the unit she told me to stop at. And once she was out of the car I quizzed Sparky a bit more. She has a boyfriend, she doesn't interest him 'that way'--"Mo-ommmm!"--she's in the anime club. I didn't go too far, because I had a sudden memory of my sister picking me up from college freshman year and commenting for what seemed like forever on a guy who had been there when she arrived, a guy friend. It was ... icky.
While I was in California over the weekend, I had to use Sparky's cell phone. As I was waiting at the gate at the airport, I got a text message: "I luv u" from [Dazy]. I just remembered. I guess I should tell him about it, only a week later.
Who says our subconscious doesn't rule things? I had rather forgotten about [Dazy] until I woke up this morning with the vision of short strawberry-blond hair and geeky glasses in my brain.
Oh, and
of JULY!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Confluence
It's weird how life works.
In the past couple of months I have discovered two bloggy friends live in the same town as one another. They are 100% unrelated in every other way, don't know they live within miles of each other, have completely different careers, and are generally about 180-degrees in every way.
Also in the past couple of months I have found out the Secret Identities of two of my favorite library bloggers. It's quite weird to be in on the secrets (one of these people doesn't actually know I know, either, thus doubling or tripling the secrety-ness)--and no I'm not telling who is who on penalty of Extreme Blog Dishonor!
I could go on about the stuff I hear in youth group that I have to keep quiet--nothing dramatic, nothing scary, just teenage drama mostly. There are a lot of things that fall into the "what happens in youth group stays in youth group" rule, and then there are just the things those kids say/email to me that I know are for my ears/eyes only.
I just find it freaky that the universe has rather suddenly decided to entrust me with a whole passel of stuff right now. Apparently I am now, officially, a good Secret Keeper. The irony is astounding.
Urban Word:
In the past couple of months I have discovered two bloggy friends live in the same town as one another. They are 100% unrelated in every other way, don't know they live within miles of each other, have completely different careers, and are generally about 180-degrees in every way.
Also in the past couple of months I have found out the Secret Identities of two of my favorite library bloggers. It's quite weird to be in on the secrets (one of these people doesn't actually know I know, either, thus doubling or tripling the secrety-ness)--and no I'm not telling who is who on penalty of Extreme Blog Dishonor!
I could go on about the stuff I hear in youth group that I have to keep quiet--nothing dramatic, nothing scary, just teenage drama mostly. There are a lot of things that fall into the "what happens in youth group stays in youth group" rule, and then there are just the things those kids say/email to me that I know are for my ears/eyes only.
I just find it freaky that the universe has rather suddenly decided to entrust me with a whole passel of stuff right now. Apparently I am now, officially, a good Secret Keeper. The irony is astounding.
Urban Word:
Frisbeetarianism: dThe philosophy that when you die, your soul goes up on a roof and gets stuck. (George Carlin)I love you, George, wherever you are.
I think I may have spent some time living the Frisbeetarian life this winter, and was that roof ever bleak!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
We're home
Mood: Probably the best I've felt in monthsI'd have written before now, but we were totally exhausted by the time we got home to stay last night and I worked all day today.
Hair: In desperate need of professional help...or even shampoo!
Eyes: Good
Listening to: Beast snoring through the NASCAR race
We are psyched, sunburned, and stunned from a wonderful week working with various urban ministry sites. There are some amazingly wonderful people doing some good work in Milwaukee to make life better for people who just need a leg up. Props to Raymond Rivera and Sister Clara Atwater to name just two.
Personal memory moments:
- blowing up at the site leader for arranging the smallest group to clean up the biggest post-dinner mess on the night with the least amount of clean-up time
- blowing up at two girls who were were standing precariously on a second-floor window-sill hanging up wet towels over Beast's C-pap (feet on my pillow and Bible, and pressing on the aged window glass for support...it was totally justified, but handled poorly)
- watching Sparky's eyes swell nearly shut after throwing mold around all day while cleaning out a flooded room (THANK YOU GOD for the nudge to pack a Large Bottle of Benadryl!!!)
- one of our girls' commitment to mentoring two younger girls on their faith walk
- realizing that I shouldn't EVER pay retail for a vase or coffee mug but should hit the resale shops because they have hundreds (they actually throw away coffee mugs they get so many!)
- being prayed over by a real saint
- gaining a son (by adoption)
- goofing with a fun(ny) guy who spends his day reclaiming gang-bangers of every stripe
- lying on a large flat rock baking on the beach after an hour of mid-morning walking on the edge of the water
- locking the keys in the car and crying over the situation
- being called a "day brightener" by one of the other adult leaders; apparently, our appearance at the worksite halfway through each day caused her to realize that she was going to survive. Not sure what that was about, but I do know that keeping her half of the group on-task was like herding spiders
- having sore feet EVERY DAY--hobbling for the first 10 minutes every morning, including today
- NOT having sore neck/shoulders
- watching all of our kids outshine so many others on the trip as they grew stronger in their faith and melded as a group
- growing my own faith, and learning some wonderful new songs
- so many others....
Urban Word:
fake the funk: (v.) To act with a false ethos surrounding oneself in an attempt to win respect from a certain influential party.
I'm not cynical, just realistic: I wonder how many kids were faking the funk this week. Time will tell, I guess.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Upcoming quiet week here
We are about two hours away from leaving on our mission trip for this summer. We are going to a city where Beast and I used to live, and where Sparky was born. If you are so inclined, any spare prayers would be welcome.
See you on Friday. Or Saturday, depending on how long it takes us to get sorted out when we return.
For accounts from previous weeklong mission trips, go here, here, here, here, and/or here.
Urban Word:
See you on Friday. Or Saturday, depending on how long it takes us to get sorted out when we return.
For accounts from previous weeklong mission trips, go here, here, here, here, and/or here.
Urban Word:
iPhone-a-friend: n. The act of using a regular cell phone to get information by calling someone who is sitting at a computer and can surf the internet by proxy.
Since we will be computer-free this week, I may have to use an iPhone-a-friend with one of you to get current information.
Friday, June 06, 2008
James Joyce is my hero*
Mood: GoodWell, we have scrounged one extra kid for the mission trip (thanks, AN!). We're still looking for two more. Things are coming together for this trip, though. I took paperwork to the mom of today's addition and we had a great chat.
Hair: A mess
Eyes: Dry and tired
Listening to: NASCAR is on the tube(sigh)
Then I came home and watched a Gene Kelly movie on DVD (That's Dancing!), followed by about half of a newer version of Little House on the Prairie (Disney). I caught up my book blog (though I've just realized that I didn't enter ...Big Woods), did a bunch of Friday memes, finished and put away a load of laundry, went to the store, downloaded about 6 CDs onto my Zen (and how--HOW!--does one delete shit from one's MP3 player, eh?!), read the church newsletter while on hold waiting for the phone to be taken to my mom's room, talked to Mom (more time on hold than talking), and obsessed over the weather. Which sucked.
Sparky had a fun post-school: for the second time this school year, he got detoured after school due to tornado activity. He and his friend were walking to the library--I wasn't working today, but there is Wii, I think, today--when the tornado siren went off. So they took off running, were waved into the building and directly into the basement with the staff and the sensible people in the building. Apparently, this is an every-six-months thing this school year. Weird. The worst of the storm today hit only slightly east of when it centered last time. Not really that close to town, as it turns out.
Meanwhile...nothing but wind and sideways rain here at the house. No sirens. No warnings. Spring is weird.
Tonight, Beast finished building the shelves in the basement that goofed up his back last week. Meanwhile Sparky and I played Apples to Apples--our own made-up rules, since it's designed for at least 4 players. He beat me. That sucked. ;-)
Generally, the best part of the day was the fact that I finished the list I made today. That rarely happens. Maybe I'm getting better at making lists....
Now I'm going to bed, because I slept very poorly last night, mostly because I went to bed late and Beast had literally taken over the entire bed. This is only notable because I'm normally the one who does that sort of thing.
Tomorrow: work. Waste of time, really, since I checked the schedule before I left yesterday and I will be on desks for over half my scheduled hours. No cataloging. Again. I'm up to three carts of backlog now. Last fall I had a shelf of backlog. Oh, well. The further behind I get, the more obvious it is that Schedule Nazi is fucking me over in spades; and the more she does that in obvious ways, the longer my CYA document gets. {{shrug}} No more Ms. Nice Cat.
Urban Word:
Viagrate: To imbue with lasting vigor
I seem to be finding a few ways to Viagrate my life again.
*Stream of consciousness writing....
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Important Message
Last week was an exciting week for Sparky. This is from the School District from their online posting. We also received it, in slightly different form, as a paper note home from school:
And so far this week, the middle schools have had to go to "alert" because the same thing has happened there. This is nuts. I'm all for reinstating stocks and rotten vegetables in the center of town. Beast prefers the concept of a toothbrush and giant dirty tile floor.
The classes on Friday were at less than 75% capacity. Nothing happened, except for having lots of cops in the halls. A senior was arrested on Thursday. He's 18, and as such will be tried as an adult. Mentally, he seems to be 2--and no, he wasn't going to set off a bomb: he's apparently got a history of doing asshatted things like this, he was PO'd about something to do with Prom, or so runs the scuttlebutt.Important Message for [high school] Families and Students
Th!s m0rn!ng at ab0ut 10:30 a.m., we d!sc0vered the f0ll0w!ng message 0n the wall 0f the f!rst fl00r b0y’s restr00m: “B0mb 0ff 0n Fr!day”. The p0l!ce were called and !mmed!ately began an !ndepth !nvest!gat!0n and a th0r0ugh search 0f the bu!ld!ng.
We are tak!ng th!s threat very ser!0usly and are w0rk!ng cl0sely w!th the [C!ty] P0l!ce Department t0 !nvest!gate the c!rcumstances and s0urce 0f the message. Wh!le threats 0f th!s nature are bec0m!ng m0re and m0re c0mm0n !n area h!gh sch00ls, we n0ne-the-less want t0 take all necessary measures t0 assure a safe and secure env!r0nment. T0 that end, there w!ll be a full p0l!ce presence at the sch00l b0th t0m0rr0w and Fr!day. Please welc0me them as they are there f0r every0ne’s benef!t.
After careful d!scuss!0ns w!th the p0l!ce, the dec!s!0n has been made that [the school] w!ll f0ll0w a n0rmal schedule f0r classes and act!v!t!es 0n b0th Thursday and Fr!day. We w!ll use th!s webs!te and 0ur aut0mated ph0ne call!ng system t0 keep y0u !nf0rmed 0f any further devel0pments.
Thank y0u f0r y0ur understand!ng and c00perat!0n.
[C.T.], Pr!nc!pal
And so far this week, the middle schools have had to go to "alert" because the same thing has happened there. This is nuts. I'm all for reinstating stocks and rotten vegetables in the center of town. Beast prefers the concept of a toothbrush and giant dirty tile floor.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Confirmation
Today is Confirmation Day. Each of the mentors is supposed to spend a minute or so introducing "our" confirmand. Here's what I've written about mine:
How can I sum up [D.]? A few of you know her already, and I hope that many of you at least recognize her. [D.] began her journey with [our church] when she was in middle school by coming to [youth group], about four years ago. Over the years, she has become more involved in lots of other church-related events here.I'm really proud of her. She is a delight, certainly not without her faults--she is, after all, a teenage girl--but she has helped make the past 6 months a little more bearable.
But, this is the unusual thing: [D.] had already been confirmed at ... [the] Methodist Church before she began attending here. Normally, when joining our church anyone who has been confirmed simply transfers membership. However, [D.] really felt that she would prefer to take another run at learning about what it means to follow Christ before joining our congregation.
Getting to know [D.] has been an eye-opening experience for me. Each time we met “for an hour” we usually spent 2 or 3 hours together because we’d always end up talking about school, the future, and (shhhh!) boys.
However, her faith is solid and clear. She has accomplished spiritual growth and learning by her own choice and with her own drive: for instance, in 2007 she read the entire Bible in a year on her own. I think that shows her determination and craving for discernment and direction from God. I hasten to add that she is also a lot of fun to hang out with, and may be one of the most realistically cheerful people I know.
One thing [D.] has reiterated many times in our confirmation time together is that she doesn’t know the names of many people in our family of faith. I know that we welcome all newly adopted members just as we welcome those who grew up with us. [D.]—or “Braids” as she was called on the [mission trip] last summer—will be a joyful addition to our congregation.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Kudos
Today has been such a godawful day that I need to redeem some of it by remembering that it's only been two days since a really awesome experience.
I received this by email on Sunday afternoon:
I received this by email on Sunday afternoon:
[Cat], [Beast] & [Redneck Guy],It was immediately followed by this:
WOW!!!!
What a wonderful job the kids did today leading worship.
Thanks—to a great group of young people, and to you three for providing the leadership that assists in creating such meaningful experiences.
Please pass on to the kids my appreciation and thanks.
[Vel.] [D.]
Dear [Youth Group] Leaders and Members:Today, this arrived from the pastor as a tag on an email about something completely unrelated and which also went to our Presbytery's Clerk:
Your service today was incredibly moving. Thank you for the beautiful, disturbing, shocking, in our face messages. After 35 years of working to try to improve the lives of children and families, I have been despairing of late because the State and other government agencies that fund my agency and agencies like ours have been decreasing support for children's services --- to the point where I wonder sometimes if we can keep [the agency] open for business without some miracle. I pray every night and throughout every day that God will send us the resources we need to continue operating and that He will give me the strength and wisdom to know what to do to see that we can be there for children and young people like yourselves.
Your skit and your service made me hopeful – hopeful because you in [the group] appear to be on the safe track to adulthood and hopeful that your message to "Get involved/Stay involved" was heard by the members of our congregation loud and clear. It truly does take a village to raise a child and all of us need to do whatever we can to make the path to adulthood safe for our children. As you know from your research, FAR too many children in our own country lose their way and ALTOGETHER too many children in the world are in the same trouble PLUS there are children who are starving, disease ridden, threatened by war and violence, slavery and abuse all over the world. It seems like a big challenge to make a difference, but how can any of us not try?
Thank you again for this powerful message. I think you could and should take this show on the road!
With Love in Christ,
[S.] [K.]
P.S. [Cat], the youth service Sunday was outstanding! I have heard more buzz about it than any youth service I have experienced. WELL DONE!!! [Pastor P.]Finally, from another individual:
Dear [Youth Group]Mind you, all of these people have sat through decades of Youth Sundays that were moving in different ways. I will probably--at least temporarily--post a link to the video once we get it online. I just couldn't wait to post the kudos though. I couldn't be prouder of these kids, and I'm so grateful that the whole congregation got a chance to see how blessed we are to have them in our midst.
I am writing to congratulate you and to thank you for such an awesome Youth Sunday! The skit you presented was very meaningful and, in fact, moved me to tears.
Your acting was VERY professional—you remained in character at all times and obviously put your hearts into it.
The information you presented at the end was very effective in reinforcing the message of the skit and I know it hit home with a lot of people.
Thank you so much for your hard work; this was definitely a Five Star presentation.
Sincerely,
[B.] [E.]
Friday, February 01, 2008
Why I 'do' youth group
I got a semi-panicked email last night from one of the girls in our church youth group. I answered her back but didn't expect anything of it since there was no school today. This just popped into my emailbox (also, welcome to teen-speak):
[cat.],All I really did was reinforce that she needs to get to know the guy better, trust herself, and don't make it too complicated. So, now I'm going to go upstairs and take a bath and go to bed.
thank you sooo much for helping me out with this one. now i think that i know what i am going to do. i really like the idea of spending more time with him, and getting to understand his intensions. and now that you pointed out that all guys like to talk trash about each other, i am starting to realize that it more. [like re-thinking about previous things that have happened]. tomarrow[being saturday] i have been invited to go and see a movie with him and some of our other friends, and i am hoping to get to understand him better then.
thank you sooooooo much for all of the advice, this has really helped A LOT!!!!
love you TONZ
-[orlie.]-
p.s. see u sunday!!!
Monday, December 03, 2007
Advent
This is where we went to church yesterday.
We were ten minutes late, so we had to sit in the balcony, the one to the left of the lights in this photo. There's another balcony to the right (directly across from where we sat), and another in the back. We got there just as a baptism was finishing up, in time to hear the announcements, including one about the governor being in attendance. The sermon was very good, the organ music was simply awesome, and the people we were squeezed in between were courteous and kind, and very upright (in the best Presbyterian sense). After church, one of our high school kids asked why we didn't go to the Presbyterian church after all. hee
(In fairness, she was confused about the line in the Apostle's Creed: "I believe in ... the holy catholic church..."--note the small 'c'--and she and I haven't gotten to that in our confirmation meetings.)
Then we shopped, mostly here:
It was really fun. Some of the girls had never been on a train before, some had never ridden a city bus, some had never been to the city, and I had never eaten in a food court that worked the way this one does: you are seated at an assigned table, and given a credit card, which is used to scan in your order wherever you want to eat and you pay on the way out. MUCH easier than the usual food court!
I bought a couple of presents, wandered around stores filled with cheap clothes and terminally skinny shoppers (including the teenagers I was with!), and was glad not to be outside. It was a fun, loads better than the last time we did this when the weather was probably 20 degrees colder with a substantial wind chill. Yesterday was rainy, and we all had clothes on that were too warm, but we weren't freezing (till we got off the train at 6:00). Sparky was really annoyed that everything cost so much ("Baseball caps are $25, Mom!! All of them. Nothing is any cheaper!"), but he managed to find some things (at least for his dad) for Christmas. I may be getting a CSI jigsaw puzzle (he called me to ask if I'd prefer 'regular' CSI or CSI: Miami--d'oh!). Best part: we only spent two hours actually shopping, not long enough to get totally, completely bored out of my mind, just long enough to realize that I can't find clothes for myself in 90% of the stores that sell clothes--either because of the size, or because of the style, or because they are shoddily-made.
And today, Beast leaves for a trek around his sales territory. I'm not sure how long he'll be gone, but certainly much of the week. Sparky just came down after his shower, and is doing all the advent calendars: we have about 6, including one with pockets that hold treats. Ooh, I just remembered...I have a new one this year!!
It's Monday. Life is pretty good. Honestly, I can't think of anything right now that requires whining or complaining.
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