I Don't Like You [But I Wasn't Talking About You]

Disaster relief training was fun. I truly enjoyed getting to know the folks from our church. I learned how to use a chainsaw [but my dad says I will probably create more of a disaster than I clean up, especially with a chainsaw], how to put a temporary roof on a house, how to remove a section of sheetrock [I kind of already know this though because I put a hole in my bedroom wall one time and then covered it with a poster. My dad found it when we were getting ready to move. He was not too happy. This would just be the beginning of the things I would tear up that would not make my daddy happy.], and how to clean mud from a house. More than all of this, I witnessed some amazing people who listened to the call and said, "Send me." I cannot wait for my first opportunity. I will be going to Raleigh to help with tornado clean up. [Hopefully, between now and then, I'll learn more about using that chainsaw so that I can return home with all of my appendages....and those around me can return with all of their appendages as well.]

Craig has a new nickname: Bug Bite. He was sick last week. It started out Sunday with a fever and him feeling sick on his stomach. It continued with a fever, severe headache [My daddy always says, " The first time I saw that thing I knew it was going to give you problems."], feeling really achy, and lack of appetite. [If you don't know Craig then you know that if he ain't eating then he's sick 'cause the boy loves him some food.] The doc suspected Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever because of the symptoms so she did some blood work and put him out of work all week. So, I nicknamed him Bug Bite. He was not amused but I found it hilarious. The blood work came back and it is not RMSF. He feels better now...but I'm still going to call him Bug Bite.

Coming back down the mountain I get a call from a friend. We chat a minute then the friend says, "I have a confession to make." I'm thinking, in light of recent events that cannot be discussed, that this person is going to tell me something related to these events. Instead, they begin to "spill their guts" about a voicemail. "I didn't get a voicemail from you." The response from my friend? "Good!!" They proceed to tell me that someone passed them on the road and waved at them, around the time they were leaving me a message. This person that waved at them is a person that, for whatever reason, has never been very nice to my friend, but on this day they chose to wave. At this point, thinking the message was over and the phone hung up, my friend says, "I hate you." Yep....then realizes the message is still going and that they've actually left me the "I hate you" message at the end of the voicemail. I laughed so hard! This person, distraught over thinking that I would think they were talking to me, even contacted someone else to "mythbust" whether or not the statement would be heard in the phone. Which is a good segway to my next bit of blog rhetoric....

Why do some people have to be so rude? I am being serious. Like, why are some people so stuck up? For example, last night we hit TJ Maxx and Dick's Sporting Goods in GTown last night. I was in TJ Maxx and saw a family that I know. I looked at the oldest child, made eye contact, then eye contact with the father. I waved....and both of them turned their head. Are you serious? You just about knocked me down a few weeks ago, to talk to me, but tonight you don't know me? [Well maybe they didn't see me? No, not so. They saw me. We were too close, on the same aisle, for them to not see me.] Just like my friend from above. This particular person that waved at them has always been really rude [I am sure not just to my friend but to everyone] and for no good reason. If you truly do not like someone that you really don't know then what is your problem? Grow up and get over it. I know people that will turn their head in the hall so they don't have to speak. Guess what, Thief of Joy, maybe you're not worthy of the hello I was going to share. If you're going to turn your head just so you don't have to speak well maybe you're missing out on something really cool I had to say. [I actually want to jump in front of them and prevent them from moving until they speak or get an air horn and press it in their ear. But I'm not going to do either one of those things....maybe.] Sometimes, I know, people do not speak because they don't know what to say but more times than not, people make an effort to be rude and disrepsectful. Some just think they are too good to talk to us lowly folks. Some pretend to be "friends" until they get what they want then you are as good as done. [Eleanor Roosevelt said "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."] I, for one, don't plan on giving anyone my consent to inferiority.

[Ok, I've put my soap box neatly back into the closet.] I cannot believe that Molly is at the END of her freshman year. She'll be the sweet 16 in December. [We are not keeping up with the current trend of inviting EVERYONE within a 20 mile radius to a party, whether we know them or not.] Our plan is to hit the Big Apple in early December then let her plan something with her friends closer to her actual birthday at the end of December. My dad is giving her the 1997 Honda Accord. The other night, she and I were walking, and the conversation went like this:

Molly: I think I know what Paw Paw is going to do. I know what kind of car he's giving me. It's not the Accord.

Me: Do you know something I don't know?

Molly: Well I think ya'll are just messing with me. I think he is buying me a new car.

Me [after picking myself up off the ground from laughing so hard]: Ummmm...hate to burst that dream ya got goin' there sister but you will soon be the proud owner of a 1997 Honda Accord.

Molly: Dang.

When you see her, tell her you can't wait to see her car...the 1997 green Honda Accord :)

As always, life is good:)