Got Cramps?

This has got to be one of the strangest and most disturbing inventions I've seen. Anyone tried 'em?

The Friday Five

Time (already??) for the weekly Friday Five...

1. Were you raised in a particular religious faith?
I wasn't raised in one at home, but my grandma in Ohio was a Christian and she and I talked about God sometimes. In gradeschool my mother and I began attending a church and I got involved with their Pioneer Girls program. In about fifth grade or so, I prayed to accept Jesus as my Savior, but I didn't have a lot of follow-up or encouragement so I never really grew in my faith until years later.

2. Do you still practice that faith? Why or why not?
Yes, I do. I think I have mellowed a lot since rededicating my life to the Lord in high school, though. Back then, I was extremely black and white in my views. I was also hard-headed and really judgemental of people who didn't fit my image of what I thought they should be. I've learned grace.

3. What do you think happens after death?
I think there is an afterlife, that our spirits are eternal.

4. What is your favorite religious ritual (participating in or just observing)?
I love to observe worship dance. At our church, there is a ministry team that does the most beautiful interperative dance to music. It's more than just dance, though; they also incorporate beautiful, fluid sign language into the dance and interpret the words of the music. As far as what I like to participate in, singing is what I enjoy. There is something just so right-on about singing with a group and harmonizing. It's the greatest.

5. Do you believe people are basically good?
That's a tough one. I think mankind is fallen, that the horrid things people do to one another point to this, but I think there's the potential for great good in every person.

The Big Hand is On...Wait! There Are No Hands!

In response to my smart-aleck husband's comment, "You think she is forgetful, wait 'til she tries to tell you what time it is in her car", I write this. This has to do with my dental visits, oddly enough. On Wednesday, the day of my initial consultation, I left my headlights on when I went into the office and returned to find my battery dead. I was in there for just under an hour, and all I got was a few clicks when I turned my key.

Because the only folks I saw walking around nearby were very elderly (I'm talking unsure-on-their-feet elderly, here) I didn't want to ask for someone to jump my poor battery. I called my knight in shining armor, instead. He drove out to jump my car, bless his heart, and I went on my merry way to finish my errands.

This is where the confusion began. Flash forward to Thursday morning. I noticed the car's clock was off, but not by very much. As I drove to the dentist's office, I did some mental calculations (and this is the source of my DH's smart-aleck glee). I knew that my car's clock had been an hour fast (due to the time change and my reluctance to figure out how to reprogram it on this goofy car stereo). I was fine with the discrepancy; I just remembered it was an hour fast and I was okay with that. But then came the dead battery.

No problem...My car's clock had been an hour fast before, so I subtracted an hour. I realized that it had been 11:30am when Howie jumped the battery, which in turn re-set the clock to Noon. Okay, so it also gained a half hour. So what did I do? The logical thing: I subtracted an hour to compensate for daylight savings, then added that other half hour back in to arrive at the right time. With me so far?

I picked Howie up at work Thursday evening so we could have a little date and go out to dinner together on his lunch hour (Pizza Cottage's BLT pizza, yum!). We weren't sure how long we'd be gone, so I consulted the car stereo's clock. As we drove back to his job, I noted the time and explained how I figured the right time now.

Honestly, up until that moment, it made perfect sense to me. As I explained it to him, however, the utter ludicrousness of my methodology became painfully apparent. After he roared with laughter (right along with me, might I add) there was a pause. I said, "Please don't tell anyone this".

He replied, "that's so confusing I wouldn't begin to know how to tell anyone what you were thinking." Now, THAT'S bad.

Are you glad I am not an accountant? Are you relieved I do not chart airline traffic? Do you consider yourself blessed it is not I who handles payroll at your company? You should be. I'm a word-woman, definitely not a math-matron. My Indian name would be She Who Murders Numbers, I think.