On a Random Note

Here is a completely random list of things that I want to be able to do:

1. Drive an 18 wheeler
2. Change the oil in car
3. Fly
4. Cut hair well (I can cut hair, just not well)
5. Speak a second language
6. Clean a fish
7. Give an IV

Now here is a list of random things that I know:

1. What a gap on a spark plug is and how to set it.
2. How the reflective tape on road signs work.
3. How to sew a french seam.
4. What to do when a goat has excess stomach gases.
5. How to find the standard deviation of most sets of data.
6. The number of parts in a Pentech gelroller pen.
7. How a dragonfly's flight is different from a bird's flight.
8. That the Sycamore is the largest tree East of the Mississippi.
9. Why Oakwood, OH was settled.
10. The Latin conjugation of the word "farmer".

As you can see, my list of things I do know is much longer than the list of things I don't know. I must be a genius. Any inquiries on life can now be directed to me.

Oh and if you know how to do anything off of the first list... and want to teach me... shoot me an e-mail.

Watch Your Stuff

I am becoming a kleptomaniac. This scares me. So far my sticky-fingers have been limited to work activities. First I stole juice boxes. Now I am stealing shoes.

That's right. Shoes. Here's how I got away with it:

At the last company picnic we were playing sand volleyball. I really had to leave - I was late to Bible study - but I was talked into one more game. We won. I grabbed all my stuff, ran into the locker room, changed and rushed off to the Bible study.

At the end of the study we were standing in a circle getting ready to pray. I looked down and realized that my flip flops looked extremlly large. Hmm... They looked the same, just bigger. That's when I realized that I had grabbed some guy's flip flops instead of mine.

You wore guys flip flops and didn't even know it?

Yes. I just thought they had come extra strong flip to the flop while I walked. Now don't start thinking I have huge clown feet. I do have big feet, but they aren't huge. I mean the guy's flip flops didn't fit me - they were too big. And that guy wouldn't have been able to fit into my flip flops. Poor guy I guess he went barefoot...

So the moral of the story is: watch your stuff when I'm around. I don't mean to steal things, I just can't help it.

Funny How That Works...

Once again God showed me how He answers prayers in ways I don't expect. At all. I have been praying for sometime now for a godly women to disciple me. Now I love my friends, and they are a huge encouragement to me, but sometimes I need someone ahead of me to yell back and tell me to keep running after Christ.

Well remember that couple that my Bible Study went and visited? She's going to disciple me. I am so excited about this. I used to go to church with her and never really talked to her. Now through a series of random events we were reintroduced. That night we were supposed go visit another couple, but that fell through at the last minute, and this couple "would love to have some people come visit." Isn't it cool how God works? Blows my mind. Seemingly random things that have a purpose.

Several people have told me that I should know by now that God has a purpose for everything. That it shouldn't surprise me when He works things out like that. Well I want it to surprise me. I want to continually be amazed when God works out the details of my life. They are small reminders of His love. And I think that's so cool.

Break-In

Tonight I took an Andi Night. This means I rented movies, got a pint of tofutti chocolate crunch ice cream (it really is better than it sounds) and spent lots of time with me. It was one of the best Andi Nights I've had. But now the chocolate crunch is gone and I feel the need to post. Why? Because I am addicted to blogging. Makes me feel like I have friends who want to hear my stories.

This is how one night I broke into my friend's house.

Frances was out for surgery and had asked me to feed her dog if her mom stayed at the hospital. Her mom forgot to call me and the only instructions I had were "let the dog out and the key is in the window sill" I show up after dark and start to walk around her house with a flashlight. I figure I better get inside fast so the neighbors won't call the cops.

The only problem was that I couldn't find the dang key. I guess this is a good thing - Frances probably wouldn't want just anyone to be able to find a key to her house. After an extensive search I still haven't found the key but I did find a window that was unlocked. I open it and decide that just jumping through the window into a house with a dog could be a stupid thing to do. I certainly did not want to be attacked by Frances' dog. So, figuring I can spare a hand, I stick my left one through the window to see if the dog bites it. Fortunately the dog is more of the licking kind than the biting kind.

Wonderful. I can now safely break into Frances' house. Except the window is too high for me to climb through. The only thing around that I could stand on was a planter. Figuring Frances would rather lose the plant than have her dog pee all over her house, I turn the planter upside down, dump out all of the contents, pull myself through the window and tumble into the house. I have effectively freaked out her dog, who is now hiding under the couch. Way to guard the house.

I let the dog out and feed it. I return to the entry window to figure out how I am to get out without dropping too far to the ground, when I see something stuck to the screen. You got it. The key. CRAP! Well at least I could leave out the front door.

Worried that some observant neighbor might have called the cops, I peek through the front window to see if there is any activity outside. As soon as I touch the mini-blinds they come crashing down on me. On top of that, when I let the dog out, the back door comes off it's hinges. Great. I've broken into Frances' house, freaked out her dog, broke her blinds and unhinged her door. I should win the friend of the year award for all of this.

I try and put the house back together as much as possible and leave through the front door like a normal person. Fortunately, Frances has a great sense of humor and laughed about all of it. Unfortunately, she had just had stomach surgery and all the laughing caused intense pain. Yep. That confirms it. I am the worst friend in history. Sorry Frances.

The Man of my Dreams

I met the man of my dreams in Huntsville. Well not really. But he thought he was. He is an engineer from Boeing who travels around and fixes things. Before that he worked on "kinky" things like double fiber reinforced RTM fuel tanks. Honest to goodness that's what he told me. Yes. He used the word kinky. As if that wasn't enough to make any woman fall at his feet, he shared some of his experiences from college. The most interesting part of our conversation went something like this:

Him: So I was in a program in college where we built rockets. We would have won, but our rocket hit something.

Me: What did you hit?

Him: A tank. But that guy wasn't supposed to be driving back there. I also made a pumpkin launcher.

Me: A pumpkin launcher?

Him: Yeah. There is nothing like seeing a pumpkin flying through the air and burning pieces of it falling to the ground.

Well dang-it. I have found the man of my dreams. Who wouldn't marry someone who has done all that? Oh but wait. There's more. He also helped build a concrete canoe. But they got disqualified because they made it bullet proof. Too much fiber and not enough concrete or something.

Me: Why would you need a bullet proof canoe?

Him: Well we were going to tow our second rocket out on the lake and launch it. If something went wrong we didn't want bolts to fly off and kill the operator.

Me: (thoroughly impressed) Oh I see.

Him: But that wasn't as much fun as strapping a rocket to a bicycle.

At this point my co-booth-inhabitor, Ernie, points out that that seems pretty dangerous.

Him: Nah. We were on a flat road that ran into a cotton field. Plus I was wearing a helmet and a flame retardant suit. All our stuff had safety factors over 23.

This guy was very entertaining. Rednecks with and education always do interesting things. Too bad I didn't get his phone number! You never know when you might need a guy who can build rockets, pumpkin launchers and concrete canoes.

To the South and Back

I'm back from my trip to the Army Space and Missile Defense Conference in Huntsville, Alabama. Alabama was not a horrible place - but I will probably never make any effort to go there again. It was state 31 that I visited - nothing more. I'm sorry AL, I used you. There was never anything between us - just a list of states to check off. Don't cry. It's for the best.

As always, here are my candidly exaggerated observations:

- Middle age, highly educated men of Huntsville wear bifocals like these. Yeah. I thought that too.

- Only in AL would a conference center have an East/West hall. Yes. That's right. It's the same room. You can go both and east and west by walking the same direction from the entrance. I guess in Huntsville God only throws sins as far as the other side of the room. Pretty depressing.

- Apparently very few people want to go to Huntsville, this is why we flew on a small plane. Although lots of people must want to leave Huntsville since we flew back on a larger plane. I don't mind small planes - I am however leery of planes built by the Wright brothers. The plane just looked like it was about to fall apart. The air conditioning that dripped on the guy in front of me was amusing. Kind of like Chinese water torture in the air.

There you have it. I need to tell you all about an engineer I met from Boeing. But some of you have the attention span of a toy poodle and can't handle long posts. So I will keep this one short. But by this point I've probably lost you already so I can insult you all I want since you will never read this. Anyway, my post about my friend from Boeing will be coming.

Friday Night

This past Friday night was crazy. Fun. But crazy. A lot of things happened that night and it would just take a really long time to tell it all here. Let me summarize it.

It started as a scavenger hunt. Met a friendly fireman, roasted marshmallows with a family we didn't know after TPing Ben's house. Lost a cell phone. Found it. Talked to the marshmallow family some more. Decided to TP Matt's house. Went to get the directions off the roof of my car. Pulled in and realized the guys had scratched the scavenger hunt and had saran wrapped our cars. Couldn't get directions.

Matt jumped in our car. I bit him. We left him at K-mart. Eluded the guys with our superb spy skills. Went back to TP bitten guy's house. His neighbor caught us and believed some story about leaving something for Matt on the back porch. Did a quick TP job. Met up with the guys. Ate pizza. TPed Ben's house some more. Got caught. Cleaned off the girl's cars. Went home.

That my friends is my Friday night in a nutshell.

It's All How You Look At It

This weekend my Mamaw shared some things she experienced by growing up on a farm:

"I would be outside scrubbing the chicken house and kids would drive by with dates on their way to the movies and I hated it.

You know, all those kids who lived in town and had lots of money and clothes.... well..... they're dead now. My mom always said that every dog would have it's day....."

My Mamaw always has a great perspective on things.

I was reading in the book of Joshua today and read this:

"So the men of Israel.... did not ask for the counsel of the Lord." (9:14)

Then 1 chapter later:

"...the Lord fought for Israel." (10:14)

They screwed up and God still fought for them. Not how I would have done it.

I am so glad my God does not make His love dependent on me being perfect. That He loves His children even when I screw up.

Family Reunion

This weekend was my family reunion. We went "camping". By "camping" I mean people stayed in cabins at a campground with a pool, putt-putt course, and internet hook-up. My immediate family alone slept in tents. We were roughing it.

I learned some fun things about my crazy, wacko family.

My Uncle and cousin are taking a 3 week tour of the Eastern United States. Their goal is to play as much putt-putt as possible during the trip. Apparently there are some "world class putt-putt courses up there."

My other cousin told me about a girl she works with at an ice cream stand that is extremely stupid. Once, when asked to hold the nuts on a sundae, this girl poured the nuts into her hand, and asked the customer what they wanted her to do with them. Had I been that customer, I would have fallen on the ground laughing.

Another one of my cousins and his wife are going into full-time ministry. He will be Pastor Steve. They are both excited and scared about what that will mean.

My 18 year old cousin and his girlfriend are talking about marriage. CRAZY!!! They are just kids. Heck, I'm just a kid and people 3 years younger than me definitely shouldn't be getting married.

Uncle Glenn shared these words of wisdom to all of us nieces and nephews: "Do NOT burn popcorn in a microwave. It smells really bad!" It's always great to get nuggets of wisdom from those older than me.

That was my family reunion in a nutshell.

I find this extremely funny!

Pahk Yah Cah in Da Yahd

Some people believe my last post was a little racist, as all beings of evil mentioned were minorities. I in no way believe that gender, skin color, or speech impediments automatically correlate into demonic behavior. I will however, call it as I see it, and the most hateful people in Braintree, Mass were an African-American women and an Indian women. I did fail to mention the rude Caucasian male who yelled at us for attempting to board the wrong train. He wasn't hateful though, just rude. He obviously needed to learn how to deal with passengers. A demon in training if you will.

New Englanders did live up to their stereotype of hating everyone who doesn't live for clam chowdah, grow up on the coast, and break every known traffic law. But I could get past that. I will probably never see these people again and they can hate me all they want. Although flipping someone off just because they waved to you is a little much. Just tryin to spread some freakin joy, moron. How about I merge my joy into your car?

Anyway. I kept finding myself picking up the New England accent. It's easy since it's such a lazy way of speaking. It made me mad. It's not Bawstin. It's Boston. Maybe they don't have speech therapy there. Those poor people. They have to live with Satan and speak poorly.

Next trip is to Huntsville, Alabama. I'm sure I'll meet some interesting people there.

Meeting the Devil

The devil lives in Braintree Massachusetts. To be specific the devil is a large African-American women with a heavy Boston accent and no patience for people who don't know their train fare. Not only does the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority employ Satan, but as an equal opportunity employer, they hire demons as well. One demon takes the form of a small Indian women who works at the parking garage.

Our first encounter with said demon occurred after driving past the same 10 full parking spaces. We looked longingly at the empty but blocked-off spaces on the other side of the wall. Unable to take it anymore, I jumped out of the car, knocked on the booth window and woke up the little demon.

"Excuse me. I was wondering where we could park."

"Turn in the second entrance on the left," she said with angry eyes.

"Yeah....... It's blocked."

"Munuf um barnacles."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"PULL YOUR CAR IN AND I'LL MOVE THE BARREL'S." She yelled.

Right. How could I have missed that that the first time?

After driving into the parking garage under the hateful gaze of the Parking Garage Demon we walked inside the station to meet the wrath of Satan. Fortunately for us an English couple approached the counter first.

"Hello. We would like to go to Boston and then into Cambridge." The man said.

"HOW MANY TOKENS?" The Devil roared.

"Well we would like to go to Boston and then to Cambridge."

"YOU CAN'T GO TO CAMBRIDGE FROM HERE. YOU HAVE TO GO TO BOSTON."

"Umm.... ok..."

"HOW MANY TOKENS?" She yelled again.

"How many to Boston?" He asked.

"2!!!!"

"For just one of us or both of us?"

Thoroughly exasperated at being asked questions which one would think were her job to answer, she screamed back, "JUST ONE!!!"

"Oh. Right. Well then we need 4 tokens."

It was now our turn. Tamara cautiously approached the booth as one would approach a Soup Nazi in New York. She quickly slid her money through the slot and asked for 2 tokens. I walked up and proclaimed that I wanted to go to Boston. Satan gave me a death look of "Get-that-happy-I'm-a-tourist-in-Boston-look-off-your-face-or-I-will-kill-you." Geez lady. Lighten up. Amberly stepped in front of the booth and yelled that she wanted 2 tokens at the devil. With a few snarls and growls we managed to extract our tokens from the devil and quickly walked through the gates.

I love meeting new people. I'll write more about my trip to New England later.