Ephemerally Yours

Can I get a "what, what"?

A group pro-life activists demonstrate in a university's mall. They stand in the center, over an inactive fountain, unenthusiaticly holding up their signs, seemingly unaware of what is going on around them. It is windy and their flyers litter the ground. The huge panels behind them depict grotesque images of aborted children. A young man sits alone on a bench reading the three-fold flyer in the warm sunshine. The front of the flyer says "Abortion is Genocide".  He shifts positions as he turns the page. He laughs to himself.

Someone is cooking sausage.

I got that old fashioned feeling at work. That feeling of uncomfortably trying to fake seriousness and concern when I would much rather cry out with laughter because my boss just told me that we are going to have to start humping butts. Humping butts. I can get over her talking to herself, repeating the same phrase over and over, even claiming that France is just as much a continent as Europe. However, I cannot maintain professional composure when she is seriously telling me that I am going to have to start humping butts at work because we are getting behind.

Holy shit.

I was driving down to Van's house today, and I passed a motivational church sign. They usually tell me something uplifting, something I can hope for. These are a few of my favorites, most from the same church; God multiplies, Satan divides; Jesus is speaking today, are you hearing; God's favorite word is come; The most powerful position is on your knees; etc. Today's feature was exceptionally moving.

"If there was anything you could do to get into heaven, the why did Jesus die?"

I know what they are trying to say; and I appreciate the tip, but what are the really saying? They are telling me that there is nothing I can do to get into heaven. Well, not nothing. I could be nailed to a cross, that would get me there. No, I can't. There is no dogwood around big enough to make a cross. Maybe die and then three days later rise from the dead? That's not going to happen without Jesus, and he is already dead and risen. I am fucked apparently. They are telling me there is nothing I can do. Oh well, guess I can go murder someone, or covet something of a neighbor's; maybe I will not make the sabbath day holy. That's a good one. That can include all of the commandments. I will wake up, say a prayer to my Elvis shrine, pour a bowl of cereal, say goddamnit when I spill it on myself, not go to church that day because I am too busy playing minish cap, forget to put oil in my car, kill John Edwards (the Crossing Over one), steal an iPod shuffle, tell someone that I like ham, and finally wish that I had Gerry Hollawell's abdominal muscles (in the It's Raining Men video). None of it matters, because according to this church, the only way I can get into heaven it to die on a cross, and... that would hurt too much. But, that's not what they are trying to say, it was just simple mistake that they made and let remain on the sign for a while. Silly parishioners. So I am writing a letter to the church.

Dear Church (God),

I am little worried about your sign, I was under the impression that God was forgiving. Did he change his mind? Maybe you miss-worded your sentence. Should it be, "If you could do anything to get into heaven, the why did Jesus die?" I certainly hope so, because I am fucked up the ass if what you say is true. I don't want to die on a fucking cross, shit. Damnit if I ever let someone play dice for my clothes. Should I repent? Are you guys still selling those condolences?

Sincerely,
Katie (the one with the bald spot on her head)

Come again?

I just saw one of the strangest programs on television that I think I have ever seen. I had just gotten done with my French paper and I popped downstairs for a little snack and relaxation. I flipped through the channel guide: Black Hair Competition, interesting but no; Overhaulin', rerun; The Amanda Show, no; Puppy Bowl... hmm... what could this be?

Description: A chihuahua, a lab, and a shepherd mix play together.

Okay... I guess I'll check that out. So I turn it on and there are a bunch of cute puppies running around, in a not-to-scale, badly constructed, superbowl stadium. The fans were painted on as little blobs on the wood, with miniature lights to simulate camera flashes. No one is around but the puppies. Their are several toys lying about, and one remote controlled football-cam. Suddenly, a puppy, and I am not kidding, looks at the football-cam. INSTANT REPLAY flashes across the screen. Then I get to watch the puppy, in slow-mo, turning his head toward the football. So I turned the sound up, it is obviously some sort of mock superbowl with commentators in the background.

No commentary, just elevator music.

So for a minute or two I watched the little puppies play. PUPPY CAM flashes onto the screen. The camera angle switches to a floor view as a puppy walks by the secret two-way mirror. Back to puppy regular puppy bowl again. An arial view, thank God, I was hoping to see the stadium from above. Another INSTANT REPLAY flashes on the screen. Two puppies play together in slow-mo. Then BOWL CAM comes on the screen. Now I have an underwater view of a dog drinking out of a bowl. It was like I was really in the bowl, amazing. Then the football starts chasing the puppies around the stadium. PUPPY BOWL flashes onto the screen. The camera moves toward a chute in the corner of the stadium and two puppies are being forced down the ramp onto the field. They try to get out, but to no avail. The door shuts and they are locked in forever.

I flipped back to the guide to see how long the show was going on. TWO MORE HOURS. Then after that, TWO MORE HOURS. It is an all day puppy bowl. What a fucking incredible idea.

I luve the south.

When constructing a sentence in an "either, or" format, in a thick, delta southern accent say, "Waell, you could yuse the steppin' stule owre the ladder, one"; or utter the phrase "Monday week." I don't even know what the hell that means.

Music fest.

I went to Music Fest with Tara. We had loads of fun. The following is a list of a few things that happened at Music Fest.

1. We saw a mardi gras necklace complete with blinking plastic penis lights.
2. A mentally challenged fan waved his four prong walking cane at the band, to the beat of the music.
3. A guy behind me asked if the sling for my collar bone was a device to cover up a new tatoo.
4. Someone slowly poked my butt with a finger-like object.
5. A man walked by my side of Tara's car, and would not go away, even when Tara sped up, he ran. He was trying to keep eye contact with me for some reason.
6. An older man was dragging a plastic duck decoy along the sidewalks with a ten foot rope.
7. Tara had the worst road rage of anyone I know.
8. A young man was kind enough to let me in front of him so that I could see better. He was also kind enough to grope me while he was helping me get in front of him.
9. We saw Corey Brennan preform. He was awesome.
10. A old, drunken friend of mine mistaked Tara for Edward.
11. He kept refering to Tara as a guy, after it was cleared that she wasn't.
12. He told me he was getting his masters degree. For some reason I don't believe him.
13. 3 Doors Down played the "Oooh ooh that smell" song for one of ther encores, fortunatly I did not smell "that smell".

I don't believe in omens, I don't believe in omens.

I want everyone to take a moment to thank your clavicles for everything they do for you, which is basically everything.

Are you done? I am being serious. Do it now.

Okay, this will be my last post concerning my wreck, but I really wanted to share this with you. While I was still in my car waiting for someone to help me out of it, I saw a white hearse drive by. It was really unsetteling. It drove by as if to say in an evil Dr. Claw voice "I'll get you next time Gadget, next time." I had forgotten about it when about thirty minutes later, after I had been pulled out of the car, it drove by again.

Don't be a turd.

If a guy gives you a compliment, are you bound by implicit contract to give him your phone number? I walked into exxon and a young gentleman eyed me degradingly. He got behind me in line a gave me a compliment. Then he ordered me to give him my phone number. I told him politely that I had a boyfriend. He looked at me as if I had done something wrong. He smiled and asked again. I said no again. Then he shook his head like a parent scolding a child for lying. It was really disturbing.

Dumb as hell.

About a year ago I had a conversation on the phone with a patient's mother at work. There had recently been a meningitis outbreak in Tennessee. I thought of it today and It made me laugh.
Me: Pediatric's East this is Katie How may I help you? Her: Yes, I have a question about meningitis. Me: Okay, I will take your information down and have nurse call you back. What is the question? Her: Well, I know there was a little girl with meningitis at Blank School. Well, my daughter and I drove by the school and without realizing it, I left her window down. I know meningitis is highly contagious, so I wanted to know if I you had a meningitis test there. She has been exposed. Me: Does she go to school there? Her: No Me: Did she come in contact with the girl? Her: No Me: Well, I am not sure I understand. How was she exposed? Her: We drove by the school, and I had the window down in the backseat. I would really feel better if she had the test. I know how contagious the virus is. Me: M'am, she could not catch the virus from you driving by the school. Only children in close contact with her are getting tested, like those in her classroom, or on her bus the day she went to the hospital. It has been several days since then, and the school never closed down. Her: How can you be sure it is no longer contagious. Look, I just want a test, is that so hard? Me: She would have to go to the ER and have a spinal tap done. It is very painful. Is she showing symptoms? Her: She could be dead by the time the symptoms show!
By that time I had realized there was no hope for this mother. I got her name and numberand transfered her to the nurse.
UPDATE: Girl never contracted the virus. She is doing well.

Painfully obvious.

I am standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street, and I overhear a conversation between two girls. They are dressed exactly the same; with jeans, birkenstocks, and a Harry T's t-shirt. They are too dark for this time of year, and their hair color is not natural. They are discussing the possibility of going to Spain over the summer.

Girl One:Yeah, Spain would be so cool. I bet there are a lotta of fine guys there. We will have so much fun girl.
Girl Two:Yeah, but what about all this world stuff?
Girl One:What world stuff?
Girl Two:Aren't we like going to war or something?
Girl One:Oh yeah...yeah, I heard my Dad talkin' about it. He said Bush had declared a world war on the middle east.
Girl Two: So would there like be a war in Spain while we are there?
Girl One:I dunno, but Spain is like neutral or something so they wouldn't be fighitng....we would be in like a safe area, plus Spain is way far from Egypt and all those countries.
Girl Two:Good, cause I wouldn't want to like shoot anyone or something. Blood grosses me out.

They kept on talking, but it was time for me to cross the street. Somehow I feel like life would be much better if I didn't have a clue.