Memory Lane

Understandably, I'm not feeling particularly creative these days, so rather than leave you with nothing I've decided to go through saved letters I've written and post them here.

This one is from January 6, 2003:

I decided to join a chorale group that performs to benefit a local food bank and the first rehearsal was tonight. It was being held at "Our Saviour's" Lutheran Church. I got the directions off the site, so knew that I wasn't relying on my own resources and probably wouldn't get lost. Probably. OK, if you know my reputation for getting lost, I think you'll know where this is headed....

Well, the directions weren't so great. In fact, they were horrible. So, I drove around and found a Lutheran church that was close to the address that was on the site. There were cars parked around the church, so I figured that I had found it. Never mind that the name of this particular Lutheran church was different. I believe this one was called "Hope" Lutheran Church. I assumed it was just under new ownership (I have no idea how the Lutheran church works....)

I didn't see anyone going into the building, but I was early so didn't think much of it. At least I was smart enough to leave myself a LOT of time. I went to the door and opened it. I heard voices, so I just followed until I found a group of people (I visualized the hairs on the back my mother's neck standing up. She doesn't much care for this sort of bold behavior....)

They were sitting in a big circle, which I found to be rather suspicious. They also looked a little ummmm, serious. I stood at the doorway and tried to listen in to see if I was indeed in the right place before barging in. I still had hope that maybe they were just discussing the piece or something. I did get some "don't be shy, come on in..." type of looks, but I held my ground (thankfully.) I couldn't hear what they were talking about because they were awfully quiet. Quiet and serious (get a clue, Lori..)

I felt that turning around and walking out might have been insulting at this point, so continued to stand there and look stupid. Shortly, someone got up and walked over to me. I said, "this isn't a choir rehearsal, is it..." Nope. Come to find out, it was an AA meeting. I scurried out of there.

I did find the right church eventually. Maybe I'm just sick in the head- but I love it that this stuff happens to me. It sure makes for a funny story...

First of all, thank you everyone for your kind words and thoughts. I've read some of your comments to my husband and he also really appreciates the support from everyone.

As would be expected, this experience has make me think about my own father. My dad has an odd sense of humor. Hmmmm.... makes ya wonder how far this apple fell, eh? Actually, our humor is different. He's the one quip wonder, where I'm one that likes to set up the scene.

I think I'm going to post some of our correspondence every now and again, because I find it so funny to look back on. Hopefully, you'll find it to be as funny as I do.

Setup (remember, I'm the one who likes to set up the scene...)
When I was single, I used to have two phone lines going into my house, one for me and one for the boys. That meant that some of the phone jacks were active under one phone line, and others under the other line. When I got my cell phone, I canceled my land line since I had cable internet. My plan was to also use my cell phone for work, but that got expensive. So, I decided to keep the boys line after the youngest moved out and use it for work. This meant that I'd have to activate that particular number on all the jacks in the house.

My dad used to be a phone man, so I asked him how to switch around the wiring. Dad wrote back what seemed like explicit instructions, that included going outside into the phone box and switching around the wires. Electrical wires.

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Date: 1-17-2003
Subject Line: Little miss "do-it- herselfer" learned a bit about electricity today.

Dear Dad,

Today I followed your instructions on switching around the wires and, let's just say, it was a BAD time for someone to give me a jingle.

You guessed it. I got a really nice shock out of it. Half an hour later and my hand is STILL tingling (but nothing dramatic...) I'll admit being a bit stupid about this. I was barefoot on wet cement at the time. My bad.....

I do want you to know that I AM tenacious. I wasn't done with the job, so I bit the bullet and finished (praying the entire time that nobody would call me.) As you've explained, there is no way to cut the current going to the wires unless I want to climb a pole to do it. There are just some things I will not do.

Love,
[RisibleGirl]

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Reply from Dad:

Did I forget to mention I always use insulated needle nose pliers to move the wires around? Oops.

Love Dad

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...and here's proof. BJ loves repeating this story, so it must be a good one.

Like most little girls, when I was young I played Barbies with my friends. I probably wasn't much fun to play with though, because playing Barbies with me went something like this:

Little RisibleGirl: "Ok, now you make your Barbie say this..."
Little RisibleGirl: "Ok, now make your Barbie do this...."

Eventually, nobody wanted to play Barbies with me anymore. But that was OK with me, because that meant that nobody'd give me ANY lip on what I wanted the Barbie's to say or do.

I was just going to email this to my online son (he's not really my son, but I've adopted him) Jay-B, but decided that I'd just go ahead and share it with the world.

It just occured to me that the "B" might just be his middle initial. Most of my real life friends call me 'Lori D'. "D" is my middle initial. That started from the fact that in meetings I like to introduce myself as Lori D. (insert last name- here) I started adding my middle initial in my introductions as a joke, even at meetings at work, and really enjoyed the reaction it got. Especially from the execs. The reaction ranged from the double take, to the raised eyebrows to snickering. So, I just kept on going. I've been doing it for over 10 years now and still itch for when people ask me what the D stands for.

Ready? (I swear, I do this EVERY time, no matter who asks) It goes something like this...

..so what does the "D" stand for, Lori?

I usually add a pause for dramatic effect, then I say, "Dy-no-mite" said in my best Jimmy Walker voice.

Yep, it's true. Crazy that I've made it this far in my career, isn't it?

I was sitting not too far from hubby and his 'other' best friend (the guy best friend) while they were playing Halo 2 yesterday. About 20 minutes into the game, I hear hubby whispering several strings of swear words. I thought it was funny that he was whispering (huh? why whispering?) the swear words, but even funnier was the story that it reminded me of.

One of my friends went to a wedding a few years ago and saw that a primo wedding viewing seat was available. She had no idea at the time why the seat was available, especially just moments before the wedding started, but happily took it.

Suddenly reason for the vacant seat was crystal clear. The person sitting next to the vacant seat had Tourettes Syndrome. The kind that makes you swear. To her horror, the guy starts dropping loud F bombs, S bombs and pretty much every other bomb you can think of. My friend is a really nice person and didn't want to hurt his feelings, so she stayed in her seat.

My friend told me that as soon as the wedding started, the bomb shower turned from loud swearing to whispers. I don't know why, but picturing my friend sitting there listening to an onslaught of whispered swearing while watching a bride walk down the aisle just cracks me up.

So, there's your advice for the day. If you must swear at weddings, please whisper.