Spent the weekend making those class samples. Made a special trip to the LQS yesterday to drop them off. The lady that handles class scheduling is out for the week. Ha! Anyway, I'm such a big dork, instead of looking around to see if she had a sign or anything announcing either class, I just dropped them off and left. What was I thinking? I am working on being more proactive. I'll let you know if/when I get there.
I'll drop back by this afternoon and see if I need to do anything else to get the hand quilting one on the wall with an announcement of the class dates. I'm betting that she has the announcement on the wall and all I needed to do was pin up the class samples to it.
But, I wasn't thinking clearly. Some days I'm in a daze and am glad I find my way home again.
Okay, y'all. When Syd comes home and talks about some boy's six-pack abs, what am I supposed to do with that? Huh??? Really, somebody tell me because all I can think is things not to do, like say "gross!" or "you're too young to be thinking about boy's abs" or "what's 7 times 8?" to change the subject. So far, all I've been able to do is look at her with a mixture of horror and humor and just try to take it all in without having an opinion about it, either way.
Hey, at least I know what she's thinking about. And, all these boys have sounded like good boys. So, I'm feeling more and more confident that she recognizes the difference. In addition to telling about their abs or their hair, she also talks about their scholastic and sports achievements and somehow, I don't think a boy that earned a private school scholarship is as likely to be chuffing paint fumes from a paper bag.
Okay, so yes, it costs me a small fortune to keep her houseboat sized feet in shoes and she can be the absolute laziest creature ever put on earth and she can spout out hours and hours of pure negative energy, but the other day, when I asked her why I wouldn't let her do something, she recited the speech I've given three thousand and forty eight times, word for word, even including my inflections. Okay, so there was a wretchedly sarcastic tone to it, but you know what? I didn't really care. Because I found out that day that she's listening.
Teehee! (and maybe a bit of Mwahahahaaaaaa!)
And, even though she leaves dishes in the sink, and that pisses me off sometimes, she always rinses them.
I believe she and I were destined for one another, just as much as I believe that Rob came along at the right time.
Okay, y'all. Gotta talk about chick-filet again. I don't think any of you should give up something you like because the owner of the company expresses an opinion we disagree with. The only people that would be hurt by that are the employees of the store's chain of operations. We have to be able to disagree in our personal opinions without causing harm to one another. So, I love you, each and every one, for the sentiments expressed yesterday, but remember that we don't need to withdraw our support for the business just because the owner thinks different. That just reverses the descrimination that we're trying to stop. The goal is to work through the differences and still make room for everyone to exist together. I want to live in a place where there's room for Mr. chick to believe marriage is between one man and one woman and for churches to choose who they will perform marriages for AND for me and Rob to enjoy the 1008 civil rights that are enjoyed by married people.
And, if Mr. chick ever saw me and Rob struggling through our relationship, just like any other successful couple does, I wonder if he'd be so willing to prevent us from becoming legally obligated to one another. Any couple that's willing to do as much work as a good relationship requires deserves a bit of acknowledgment.
Acknowledgment that Dick Cheney was not able to extend to his daughter by attending her wedding. I gotta tell ya'. Given the choice of who to have lunch with, I'm picking Mr. chick over Dick because there's a difference between failing to understand and just being...a dick.