think warm thoughts

today i thought about moving to FL.
it's freakin cold.
snow flurries and 15 degree windchill.
burrrrrrrrrrrr.

no need to argue

Last Friday, I ran across a 72 year old man sitting on his front porch. I ended up talking to him (or rather listening to him) for about 20 minutes. He talked about Jesus Christ and many of his interpretations of scripture. (And some of them were quite bizarre, as far as I'm concerned.) He introduced himself as a reverend and then told me he was a bishop. He said many things that actually made me sad, because there was no room for grace in his theology. I wanted to ask him what he thought happened when Jesus died on the cross, and what it meant that the curtain was torn in two? I decided that it was best not to question him or tell him that I did not agree, but just to be a listening ear. I did tell him that I was a believer and that he did not need to share the gospel with me. But seriously, I think he may have had some mental illness. I ended the conversation. politely, after he told me that the Lord gave him the ability to raise people from the dead. He said something to the effect of the police brought him some bodies in body bags and he unzipped them and welcomed the people back. I mean, how do you tell a 72 year old man (who obviously needs someone to listen to him talk) that you think he’s crazy.

butts

Since this has become my medium for disclosure of strange quirks, I thought I'd post about my strange desire to pinch or slap others butts.

Sometimes people I don't even know. Most of the time, regardless if I know them or not, people with whom it would be completely inappropriate.

I mean, I walk around the office and see butts everywhere. I just want to give everyone a nice slap on the booty. I refrain. But I'm grossly aware of my bizzare urge to pinch anothers butt.

Any suggestions? Any others out there like me?

Chicago Rox

Go SOX!

parenting

I used to be fully scared of having children, because I was sure that I would completely mess them up.
Yes.
Being responsible for another being's life in every way possible =
pretty much the scariest responsibility ever.

But lately I keep thinking how good I would be at it.
I'm sure that being surrounded by parents who have slim to nil parenting skills will do that to you. In fact, I often want to take over when I'm with a family whose adults are not playing their part.

There are so many children out there who have parents that suck or have no parents at all. They need good parents. Not that I'm in the position to do so, but I keep thinking, why would I want to bring more children into the world? I never would have guessed it, but I think that if I am remain unmarried, I may still get my license and become a foster parent.

Many things to ponder.
First, I'd have to be living on my own.
(So, my lovely roommates, don't worry.)

ghettofied

I would like to declare that I am now completely ghettofied. Ghettofied, you ask… what does that mean? Well, it is a word that I am making up for my car. Yesterday, who knows how, my car started purring, loudly. The kids I was transporting were asking questions about why it was so loud. Questions, of course, I could not answer. I suppose that there is a hole somewhere in my exhaust system. And I think to myself, when should one start caring and/or completely stop caring about their car? I already have numerous dents and scratches. There is a crazy loud thump when one turns a corner in my beloved car. Not to mention the sounds of it struggling to run (I don’t think it is struggling though. Maybe my car is trying to speak to me, saying, please, take care of me.) The blower motor for the air/heat, it makes some funny noises too. Is it time to put some serious money into the car to make it run/look better? Or is it time to just declare it ghettofied and laugh with each new character building fault? One of my co-workers just made fun of my car for the shattered glass remnants still on the floor from my break-in back in February.

I don’t know, what do you think?

I was told yesterday by a friend, that he didn’t think it was going to blow up and for that I’m thankful.

coffee

addiction or no addiction.
i don't know that i NEED coffee, but i sure do like it.
and today i laughed at myself when i was telling myself why i deserved to be treated to a nice cup of coffee. i laughed because i realized that i am able to come up with a good and valid and raher convincing reason to treat myself to coffee every day.
i raise my cup... to me.
and my iced carmel latte.
yummy.