Your Daily God

Posted on March 8, 2011 by S.

Do people really ever look up at the sky at night and see the stars, so many light years away, burning so bright, and say to somebody, “Our God is an awesome God”?

I’m not saying he (or she) isn’t an awesome God, I’m just wondering if people say those kinds of things in passing conversation, as opposed to, say, “Miracles happen everyday!” after the birth of a child, or when a patient wakes up from a coma.

I have often been awed – am fortunate to still be awed that birds can get off the ground, even – but I don’t know that I have ever voiced to anyone that particular exclamation of my awe, in those exact words, nor heard anyone else do so, aside from in song.

Questions of this nature come up this time of year (for me) because it is the beginning of the Lenten season – the holiest season in Christianity – and though I am Protestant, I attend an Ash Wednesday service and give up something for Lent.

Not only am I Protestant, I am Baptist, but of the backslidden variety, as I have not attended the church I am a member of for a few years now. I justify it by saying that they have nothing for me, really – I am a single woman in my mid-40s. I don’t belong in any of the Sunday school groups. I don’t fit. I’ve spoken with the pastors there, they agree I don’t fit; they don’t feel moved to be more inclusive, they just…agree.

This year Ash Wednesday holds even deeper meaning for me, though, because I am taking my small godson with me to the service.

While it is true that Baptists don’t baptize infants, and we don’t have godparents and godchildren as a general rule, somehow I was chosen as the very fortunate champion for this amazing child, and just like a good Episcopalian, I stood up in front of God and a whole church full of people and forswore all evil and promised to guide him.

As it turns out, he guides me, too.

Posted in Ash Wednesday, baptists, God, godson, Lent, Miracles | 3 Comments

Meetings

Posted on March 7, 2011 by S.

I hate them.

When I was little, I liked to play Meeting, because my daddy went to them, and I thought it was terribly grown up to Go To Meetings.

Now I’m grown up and I know from years of going to them that they’re pure damn evil.

When I worked at the paper, meetings would drone on and on and on, and they were usually about how the assistants (me and my little underling friends) could be replaced by any idiot off the street. When I became an underling of a higher caliber, the meetings became about how Deadlines! Must! Be! Met! and Approval! Tickets! Must! Be! Kept! To! A! Minimum!

I became so jaded by meetings that I started sitting near the door so I could get up and walk out, turning around at the door and saying, “Send me a memo, would you? I got deadlines.”

We don’t have many meetings around here, but when we do, they strike fear in my heart. Today we had one and my innards are still roiling.

The economy is bad, friends. We produce an expensive product, and people are hanging on to their money in ways that are harshing our groove.

So we have to expand our way of thinking, come out of our shells about how we’re going to reach more people, get the ones who don’t know we’re here, and we’ve got what they need.

The good news is, we do have what they need. We’re literally at the top of our industry, because we’ve outlasted the competition. We do good work here, work that I’m proud of, work that I personally stand behind.

We have laid out a course of action, and we will follow it until we need to change it, and it will be okay, because we work hard here.

And I will be okay, because I always have been before. There just aren’t any other options.

Posted in being okay, innards, Meetings | 1 Comment

Andrew

Posted on March 4, 2011 by S.

My head hurts.

But I just ran into my friend Andrew at the grocery store during lunch, and that makes anything that’s wrong just a little better.

I’ve known him since he was a baby, just about 24 hours old, and I have loved him since that very minute.

He had bright orange hair and bright blue eyes, and he grew into a laughing freckled little boy, and now he has bright orange hair and bright blue eyes and he is a laughing freckled young man, about to go off to college.

It seems like just five minutes since he nearly grew out of his baptismal gown before he could be baptized, but really it’s been almost 18 years.

I used to babysit him, and when I’d get to the house, he’d be sitting on the front steps, wearing his firefighter pajamas and firehat, and his mother’s snowboots and sunglasses, dressed as a firefighter, waiting for me to arrive.

He was, hands-down, the sweetest kid I’ve ever known.

When I saw him in the grocery today, he had come for “this cheese dip I like” and some flank steak to make beef jerky.

I asked him if he’d ever made beef jerky, or if he had a recipe. He said no, but he likes beef jerky, and he figures he’d like it more if it were flavored like he wants it, and it can’t be that hard.

He’s also whimsical.

So we set off for the meat department and looked through the meat, and ended up asking one of the meat men, who it turns out makes beef jerky all the time, and he gave us an earful. The meat man told him which piece of meat would be best, and told the butcher how to cut it for him, and Andrew was off. We looked at the seasonings, and discussed what to look for for recipes, and I got my cereal and we went our separate ways.

I remembered when I was nearly back to the office to call him and tell him to put the meat in the freezer for a little bit to make it easier to cut in strips, and to cut it with a scissors, and he took the advice easily, because he always wants to know a better way to do things.

Tomorrow night we’re going out to dinner, because Andrew loves to go to dinner, so long ago I started taking him out for Christmas and birthday, and afterwards, I’ll take him to Star Provisions, because he’ll like that – he’ll like the variety of salts and peppers and seasonings, and he’ll like the cuts of meats hanging in the freezer locker, and he’ll like the smelly cheeses.

I’m going to miss that kid when he goes away to college next year.

Posted in Andrew, beef jerky, freezer locker, good kids, Star Provisions, whimsical | 2 Comments

Writing is easy.

Posted on March 2, 2011 by S.

You just stare at a piece of paper until blood comes out of your pores.

Posted in blood, easy things to do, pores, writing | 1 Comment

Jinkies!

Posted on February 27, 2011 by S.

I bought a bike today.

In case there’s any question, I bought a bicycle, not a motorcycle.

I’ve been trying to decide whether to join a gym or get a bike, but the bare truth is that if I have to drive myself to it, I won’t go.

“Walking” is recommending, but it takes forever and I hate walking around things for the hell of it, and there’s really nothing to walk to in my neighborhood. I don’t mind running, particularly, but I do mind getting up early enough to do it before it’s too hot here to do it without passing out.

Biking is just more efficient.

And besides, I like riding bikes.

I went last year and looked at bikes, but the selection was just daunting, so I left.

This time I researched ahead of time. I spent a lot of time reading reviews and specs and figuring out what I need and want my bike to do.

I didn’t want the bike itself to be too heavy, and I’d rather be somewhat upright than hunched forward on it. I want to wear sneakers, not cycling shoes. I’m not going to be going off-road with it (on purpose, anyway). I have no special need for speed. More than 10 speeds will be too many. It should not be pink.

After all that looking on the internet, I was still confused, so I looked on the website of my favorite bike shop (where I used to get my old bike tuned up, before an old roommate hocked it), and it said RIGHT THERE that if I had questions, I should ask Mike, so I called him up and asked him.

And now I’m the proud owner of an Electra Townie Original 7D. They’re building it for me and I’m picking it up tomorrow. I’m also the somewhat reluctant owner of a shiny black helmet, which I won’t enjoy wearing, but I will if I’m riding with the children or there’s traffic.

So whee!

Posted in bicycle chain, Electra Townie, Intown Bikes | 4 Comments

Once upon a long, long time ago…

Posted on February 24, 2011 by S.

…a gentleman I was having relations with sent me an email one morning that read, “I saw you at Kroger last night.”

I responded, “You did? Why didn’t you say something?”

He said, “I nodded.”

He was confused when I responded, among other things, “Don’t you ever nod at me again like I’m some common stranger.”

“Gentleman” is what we say when it’s not quite what we mean.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Erk.

Posted on February 23, 2011 by S.

I knit. A lot.

I  used to pull out about as much as I had knitted, because I cannot stand a mistake.

I don’t do that as much as I used to, because with much practice has come some small degree of expertise.

Last night I was knitting along and I came to a place where something was obviously wrong.

You wouldn’t be able to tell when I’m finished with the piece that something is wrong, because it’s as easy as knitting two together (K2tog) twice to fix it, which I did, and I went on for two more long rows before going to bed.

It has been sitting in my giant pocketbook all day, taunting me.

And now, just like that, I am pulling it back out.

Some things never change.

Posted in frogging, K2TOG, Knitting, mistakes | 1 Comment

Things I have already thought today, in no particular order

Posted on February 23, 2011 by S.

That’s a lot of tan for one person. I wonder if she gets her skin checked. Probably not.


Dark hose, light shoes: wrong.


I did not know that Liz and Evan were related.


I would like some quiche. Why is there no quiche?


Jimmy Baron must be high.


This is a really long red light.


I wonder where this street goes. Oops.


Viva la Revolución!


I wonder if Natalie Munroe has had that baby yet?


How do you pronounce Antener?


Why do I not have any saline solution?


Execute the turn, please.


Will there be swimming in Minnesota this summer?


Ooh! A Smart Car!


I need to go to bed earlier.


Nuts.


Should I get a bike?


Hmm. Orzo.


That tea really was very good.

Posted in bad drivers, Fake tan, Natalie Munroe, skin check | 7 Comments

I can’t see.

Posted on February 22, 2011 by S.

I’ve worn glasses or contacts since third grade, so it’s not like it’s a surprise I can’t see, but it’s a surprise that I’m also far-sighted now.

Presbyopia, they call it. They tell me it’s because of my age.

I’m told that soon I’ll start having other symptoms of being middle-aged, like wearing double-knit stretch pants with matching tops and having my hair set.

At my eye doctor appointment last year, the (very young and very pretty) eye doctor had the nerve to tell me that my corneas are aged. I told her to just write my damn prescription so I could go.

Now I go to a different eye doctor. He’s older and has free parking.

But anyway.

About a year and a half ago, I started having to stand up to read things on my desk, and sit further back to work on the computer, and I’m only so tall. I panicked a little, because I have been near-sighted to the point that I can’t see the features on the face of a person sitting on the couch beside me without corrective lenses my whole life.

My neurophthalmologist looked deep into my eyes and told me to get some reading glasses, so I did, and that fixed my reading problem. Now if I go to a restaurant without my readers, someone has to lend me some or read the menu to me. This is why I can only go to nice restaurants, because only nice restaurants usually keep spare readers around.

Only now my vision has changed again and I can’t read street signs – I only know where I am, really, based on how long the sign is and what buildings are nearby.

I explained all this to my new eye doctor and he gave me new trial lenses which were even worse, except now I don’t need my readers.

He also gave me a prescription for new glasses with progressive lenses (which I figured out several hours later meant bifocals), and the reader portion is too weak and I can’t read at all with them, so either way, I’m screwed.

I picked up new sample lenses today and Thursday I have to go back and have my vision checked with my glasses on, so in the theoretical world, it’ll all get fixed, but it’s crazy making.

It’s like being crazy in outer space.

Posted in contacts, glasses, middle-aged, presbyopia, reading glasses, vision | 2 Comments

$15 a cup?!

Posted on February 21, 2011 by S.

Saturday I had to go to the mall to get my iPad looked at at the Genius Bar.

While on my way to the Genius Bar, I was waylaid at Teavana to sample some of their Delicious Tea. It was so delicious that I had the young lady write down the name of it so that I could come back and get it after my appointment; you never want to miss your appointment at the Genius Bar, because the good Lord only knows when you’ll get another one.

I guess they get that a lot at Teavana, because she looked at me a little disappointedly and sent me on my way.

So I went to my appointment and then piddled around at Anthropologie and bought a birthday present, and then went to Macy’s and looked at shoes for a minute. I was just about to walk out of the mall when I remembered I wanted some of that Delicious Tea (youthberry and orange something), so I turned around and went back, and the young lady was ecstatic.

She asked me if I would just be getting the tea, or if I also wanted a “method to make it.” The “method to make it” appeared to be a Pyrex teapot, so I said no, I have a teapot, and she took me on up to the counter to the young man and told him I’d be the sucker buying the featured tea.

He gave me the schpiel about the canister ($7 each) and took two of them and started scooping the two types I’d be needing and telling me how to make it, and about the sweetener, which was “pure cane rock sugar,” which he started to put in another canister ($5), until I told him to put it in a bag. He tried to sell me some green tea, but I told him no, I hate green tea, and I don’t want any, but thanks.

He handed the whole thing off to the cash register woman, a very official looking woman with Serious Black Glasses and a Severe Black Dress, who rang it up and asked me, with a straight face, for $162.

Because I am past 40 and my filters are shot, I said, “Can I roll it up and smoke it?”

She did not smile. She merely repeated, “$162, please.”

I told her I wasn’t paying $162 for tea. She said she could shake some out. I told her to put it in bags and shake A LOT of it out. She did this and came back and said, “$99.”

I did some quick figuring in my head and said, “So that’s what? $15 a cup?”

She said, “Well, actually, it’s $14.73 a cup.”

I have no idea why I stood there and listened to her arguments for why it would be reasonable to pay $14.73 per cup for tea, or why I pointed out to her that I don’t pay $14.73 for a drink in a bar (not that I buy my own drinks in bars) with liquor in it, or why I told her that for $14.73, a guaranteed permanently sober Robert Downey, Jr. would have to serve me that tea in the nude daily and tell me I’m pretty, besides.

Finally I realized what I was doing and stopped talking and told her thank you, that she had been very nice and all, but despite the fact that I can afford $15 a cup for tea, I’m not going to, and I had to leave. And I left.

When I got to my car and was about to pull out of my spot, I thought, “Where is my Anthropologie bag?”

I had left it in the damn Teavana, which of course I can never go in again.

So.

I ran another errand or two and called them and told them I’d been in there just browsing earlier and had set it down, and asked had anyone found it. Once they located it, I gave them my name and told them I’d come get it the next day. It was all going fine until the guy turned out to be the one who’d packed up my $162 worth of tea and he’d be there again the next day. Argh.

I called my friend Ellie and asked her if she could go with me to the mall on Sunday and go in somewhere and get something I’d left, to which she responded, “Why? Did you make an ass of yourself in there and now you can’t go back?”

Posted in Genius Bar, just browsing, ridiculously expensive, shoes, tea, Teavana, tragically hip | 7 Comments