Ok, that last post may have required a bit of a unicorn chaser…
‘cept that I don’t do unicorns.
Here’s a LOLcat chaser instead. Got some wonderful captures of Chino the other evening, all 6 of which will get the LOLcat treatment eventually.
Let’s just start with this one, and if you want to suggest a macro of your own, go here sift through the pix to the most recent ones, and leave comments…
A [potential] Riches of Embarrassment
There’s a boy from my past who I hear stories of occasionally but with whom I had an embarrassing moment so fierce as an impressionable teen, that in its wake he and I were never able to speak to each other again.
To think on it now is to laugh, he simply walked in on me in the loo(bathroom) on the occasion of one of those World Vision 40 hour famine sleepovers that were very popular with us in our younger days. There were probably 30 of us at the house so I probably wasn’t even the only one it happened to!
The embarrassment was compounded by the fact that he was the most popular (read gorgeous) boy in yoof groop and all of us girls thought he was next to God. I truly thought I.could.have.died.
To his credit, it remained our little secret, and as a less impressionable adult I just know that should I meet up with him again now we’d laugh it off and catch up on the intervening years. (And he’d be old and balding and thickening around the middle and I’d wonder what on earth we’d seen in him back then…).
I remember too, the first time I ever saw a ‘feminine hygine’ ad (feeling the full impact of what THEY were about having only just begun to require them) with my older cooler male cousin and wishing the floor would open up and swallow me too.
I blame the embarrassment on my puritanical upbringing. I think my sister was the only one to ever come face to face with the fact that our parents actually DID it by finding Mum naked in bed waiting… Dad certainly never gave us any indication of affection in front of us so the whole subject was a no go. Any whiff of it on the telly was quickly snuffed out and the prospect of going to the movies where there may be the barest prospect of the mention of sex, let alone the act, was strictly verboten.
And then I left home and went overseas, far from the confines of the family ethic (but still bound by the confines of my conscience) and there my eyes were opened to rather a spectacular degree.
So while there has been mention made in this blog about how my life choices have meant that there are some lines I am yet to cross in this regard, there hasn’t really been any discussion of just how far the boundaries have been tested… (Most of any relevant incidents were hazed by an alcoholic fog so even if you asked me to recount them, the details would be too fuzzy to make a good story – except the Greek sailing one *sigh… blush*).
In any case, had my alcoholic shenanigans not wiped out some of my embarrassment factors in my very early twenties the epic trip round Europe obliterated them. 21 people living on a bus for 45 days going from camp ground to camp ground, (sleeping, eating, drinking – EVERYTHING).
Nothing was sacred after that.
So it amused me to note that , having found myself at the movies watching a movie that not only discusses issues of sex, relationships and childbirth, but portrays them rather graphically (if not gratuitously), watching it not with my girlfriends, but with a couple of single guys, I do still consider sex to be a sacred thing… I can watch it without TOO much in the way of squeamish toe curling…
…and it’s bloody funny.
Neighbouring Properties
Mary and Boaz are moving out from the apartment upstairs putting paid to, all prophetic utterances concerning the identity of husbands, conversations concerning the spiritual well being of all of our neighbours, suggestions of means by which I may well initiate discussions of the state of said neighbour’s mortal souls (including the delivering of invitations to church events and and prayers for salvation etc.).
It will also put paid to the conversations late into the night directly above my bed (happily I have not been subjected to the sound of other ‘late night shenanigans’ and thoughts of whether or not such things occur, (given their newly weddedness and albeit advanced 70+ years) are resolutely not to be considered).
In their leaving I have come into the possession of some of their cast offs… First off, a box of preaching tapes. At least that’s what they appear to be called… does anyone know what to do with a ‘cassette tape’? I have no idea…
An American Standard Bible with all manner of personal family history hand lettered in the front… wondering how I can throw this away… is it a sacrilege? I can’t give it away… who would want someone else’s family history? As far as this Bible itself is concerned I don’t need it… I have all the Bibles I need in my computer…
I have also inherited their printer/copier/scanner. That one cost me a fifty, but as I’ve not had a printer that worked in… ooh, years I think I’ll make good use of it.
A letter box. Which is not at my gate and which is the secret place for my spare set of house keys. Vital given my history with getting locked outside the house…
The ‘booty’ also includes a modem for local wireless provider ‘Unwired’ and a favour to sell it for them on e-bay. How does one say “no… sorry, don’t want to” and if one even thinks such a thing is one being churlish and selfish?? I mean I took all the other stuff figuring out I can chuck it away and no feelings will be hurt… selling a modem comes with RESPONSIBILITY… eep.
And a 4.5 volt power pack for some unknown item of electronica. Could be useful… could also go in the bin…
As the pair of them have been sitting out on the street for the last two days flogging all their stuff I’m left wondering what’s going to happen to the gear that didn’t sell… will it get taken in a taxi to the dump? Will it be left on the street for the scavengers (read kerb surfers)? Or will it be generously left for us remaining tenants… as a gift…
It remains to be seen.
I wish them well, they were pleasant neighbours and good for the odd blog post… and now the neighbourhood no longer have to duck their heads when Mary and Boaz pass by, for fear of receiving another lecture on sin and salvation and the healing power of the love of Jesus.
Here’s the thing. I’m fully acquainted with sin salvation and Jesus. I’ll talk about them to anyone who asks. I just don’t go there uninvited. And therein lies the difference.
Ah well, all the best to to you Mary and Bo… I’ll see you on the other side. And in the meantime their place will be taken up by a new tenant this week.
A boy.
A single boy.
A single church boy.
A single church boy of the same persuasion as me.
Methinks ’tis time to roll out the Welcome Wagon*.
*and by that I don’t mean the kind of welcome wagon as rolled out in neighbourhoods like Wysteria Lane…
Just so we’re clear…