I stopped to get gas on the way to work this morning, and for some reason, I looked over at another woman who was there. She was walking a little toward me, and asked, "Did you hear what I said?"
I shook my head. She said, "It used to cost me 75 dollars to fill up that car. It just cost me thirty-three seventy-five. God is good!"
It's good to be thankful, I guess.
The Chronicles started out way back when as a follow-up to an email about me shaving off my goatee. Since then, I've talked about all sorts of random things, and linked to stories I found amusing and generally bumbled my way about. Sometimes I struggle to come up with something to write about.
Now I have a new piece of news that undoubtedly belongs in the Chronicles of Abs. Not long ago, I talked about how I had played a bunch of different roles in weddings, and I had just added Officiant to the list. Well, it looks like I'm going to able to add the role of Groom at some point because the Girl officially agreed this past weekend to add the Wife to her list of sobriquets.
You read it right; I am engaged! Last Friday, as the Girl and I watched the first exhibition game of the IU basketball season (streaming online because it wasn't on actual TV) in our living room, as the band played the William Tell Overture and the cheerleaders streamed all over the court with flags (this sequence is one of the Girl's favorite things in the entire world), I brought out her favorite dessert from the restaurant where we went on our first date, and I asked her to marry me. As you might expect, trumpets heralded, the clouds parted, we were bathed in a shimmering light, the band was muted behind a Hallelujah chorus, laurels and wreaths and nosegays floated through the air. Perhaps all of those things distracted her, because she said yes!
We are excited! And thrilled!! And I am clearly overdosing on exclamation marks! I just had to share that with you, because you are my one and only, most favoritest Internets. Have a marvelous day.
The Pretty Boy recently pointed me to a PSA that Dave Barry wrote. Despite the fact that I actually wrote one once, I'm not really so big on PSA's. Jenny, eat something. Johnny, go to school. Jeremiah ... why the hell do all these kids' names start with 'J'? It's ridiculous! But I digress. The point is that Dave Barry had a message to send out, and he did it in his inimitable style: by talking about his fear of having things shoved up his butt. I love this kind of PSA. It made me laugh out loud more than once. It had a sweet side to it. And, best of all, it is currently not even the least bit applicable to me. Good times.
Given the subject, it seems a good time to give a shout out to a guy on my softball team. I've been meaning to post this for a long time, but I just haven't managed it. Last December, I got this email from Shawn. Needless to say, it wasn't good news, but I told him I was definitely not betting against him, and his attitude about the whole thing was both inspiring and refreshing. That's been true ever since he was diagnosed, and I'm glad to say that he's still playing softball with us. That in itself is impressive, and his story has been a repeated source of goodness over time. But it's this particular post that I think sums it all up. Sometimes, the Good Guys win.
Have a great weekend!
I think you're supposed to try again. That worked for me. Heading back to the polls around 2:30 or 3:00 seemed to be the ticket. There were no lines visible outside the building (at least not for my section of the alphabet), and I had to wait behind only about 3 people. The whole process only took about 10 minutes this time around.
Given the whole hassle with the lines, I'd be all for a completely mail-enabled kind of voting process, but there are some decent arguments against that I hadn't considered. Either way, I hope you managed to do all the voting you wanted (and were legally allowed to do) in this election with a minimum of pain.
So I went out this morning to take part in this representative government of ours by voting. The community center in our neighborhood is our polling place, and I figured I'd swing by the store to grab a morning soda then saunter up to a by-then-diminished line and put my vote in before heading to work. However, maybe other people had the same plan as I -- I don't know, I couldn't see if they had sodas -- and the line was stretched around the corner. So I drove right on to my office.
All these lines are kind of frustrating, although I suppose it's an indication of voter interest. But I'll go back armed with the AbsPod and some other things to entertain myself this afternoon, even though I often argue that your vote doesn't count in the presidential election, both from a purely lottery-like mathematical standpoint and because of the electoral college.
Bah. I hope your voting experience is line- and stress-free.
