Sleep Talk

Jonathan: They always do that in comedies.
Me: What?
Jonathan: Ugh! You're in a tent!
Me: I'm not in a tent.
Jonathan: No, it's like a comedy! And you're in a tent, and it's like the Avengers!
Me: I don't know what you're talking about.
Jonathan: That's because you're a ridiculous fool!

Now that Jonathan is fully awake, he claims that this actually made more sense in his dream. Apparently this was supposed to refer to how in movies (especially sci fi/fantasy), it can be a happy ending even if hundreds of innocents died before the evil was defeated.

Object Lesson Fail

So as I've mentioned (or should have), Jon and I teach the 5-7 year-olds in our church. This week the lesson was on the gift of the Holy Ghost. We had an object lesson that did not go exactly as planned.

I brought in an old gift that is now broken. We talked about how it used to be really cool, but has become considerably less so since it broke. Jon asked the kids if they could think of any gift that would last forever, that would never, ever become worn out, or broken, or boring. Obviously the answer was supposed to be the Holy Ghost. The answer the children came up with? Pillow Pets. They would be really hard to rip. No, they don't have any pets that could destroy them. They could always be washed if they got dirty. Even grown-ups need something to hug sometimes (this is a fair point, as I myself have one).

Asked if they could think of anything else (sometimes you have to choose your battles), they proceeded to list other toys and potential gifts, including mattresses (seriously, a five-year-old thinks a mattress is a good gift?). Sigh.

Security

When I first got married, I changed my name legally and (eventually) on my driver's license. I did not ever get around to changing it with my credit card companies. While I did change my name with my bank, I haven't gotten new checks or a new debit card. In other words, I have two recently acquired credit cards with my legal name on them, and several credit/debit cards without.

The frightening part is, nobody has EVER called me on it. I didn't update my name on my driver's license until about a year after I got married. In the intervening year, I used my driver's license as identification for all kinds of official things. The fact that my ID didn't match my social security card was never brought up. Since I changed my driver's license, no merchant has ever asked why the name on my credit card is not the same as the name on my ID.

So, I guess the moral of the story is that women can steal the identity of any other woman with her same first name. It will be assumed (I guess) that she just hasn't changed her last name with all her credit card companies.

Ouch

So a five-year-old (one of the children Jon and I teach) came up to me in church today. "Do you have any kids?"

"No, not yet."

"Oh, well, when is the baby coming out of there [while poking my stomach]?"

Apparently either five-year-olds have no concept of the anatomy of pregnancy, or I need to start thinking about losing some weight.

New House

By far, the very best part of our new house is the garage. I can't even express how satisfying it is to drive along at 6:15 in the morning and see all the frost-encrusted cars, secure in the knowledge that I am no longer a participant in the car-scraping game.

The worst part is moving. I hate unpacking. This morning I found twenty thank-you notes from our wedding that we never unpacked (or sent) after we moved into our last place. This has done absolutely nothing to endear unpacking to me. If you were one of those twenty people, I'm really, really sorry. And thanks for the gift.

Childhood Trauma

I asked my sister Kristina what I should blog about. She suggested either how great she is, or childhood trauma. I have decided to combine both of those and describe how Kristina made my childhood traumatic.

When I was around seven or eight and Kristina was two or three, I loved lying on the floor coloring, reading, writing, or whatever else I did at that age. Kristina loved running around and jumping on things. This combined with unfortunate results for me, as I was her favorite thing to jump on.

So I would just be hunched over on the floor, innocently doing my thing, and Kristina would run around the corner, take a flying leap, and land on my back, knocking the wind out of me. I would scream at her to stop, and my mom would tell me to be nice to her.

To make matters worse, every time I told my friends or cousins about how Kristina routinely abused me, they would say, "But she's just a baby! She doesn't know any better!"

For the record, three-year-olds are not babies. Also I believe I have found a culprit for any back problems I may develop along the line.

Spam

So I received this lovely piece of spam today. For only a few hours a week, a bank account, and the ability to wire money out of my bank account, I can make $600-800 per week! Hurray!


Hello Rachel Reddoch,
Our company is currently looking for qualified individuals for an opening of a "Payment Assist Manager" that doesn't demand any special skills. The job will take only several hours a week. It's a great opportunity to get an extra-income before Holidays in a short time.

The general activity of this opening is to collect payments from our customers in the US.
Each fund transfer will be accompanied by detailed instructions.
Compulsory requirements:

- Age: at least 21;
- US citizeship;
- computer skills and e-mail address;
- at least 1-2 hours of free time per day for work business hours;
- Initiative and honesty.
- an account at any bank in the US;
- an ability to send Western Union trasfers;
Average profit is $600-$800 per week.