Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The Jehovah's Witness Lady

She comes to my house like, once or twice a month. She picks the worst times of day to do it. Right at lunch or naptime. She pulls her grandchildren out of school to come wandering the streets with her to convert the masses. Why does she come to my house? Because I am too nice. My MIL was her grandson's first grade teacher. So she comes and hands me these little propaganda papers that I thank her for, and I wish her good luck with her daily mission, to which she replies, "There is no such thing as luck, only God's will". Well, shut me up. Maybe I should tell her she's wasting her time, I'm not joining her cult, I mean, religion. But I feel bad. I feel bad that so many people slam the door in her face. I feel the same way about telemarketers. I would always listen to their entire speech before telling them I didn't want what they were offering. But thanks to caller id, that is no longer a problem. I should invent "houseguest id", something a little more sophisticated than a peep hole (for people like me, with a window in the door. Try faking not being at home with a window in your door, just try it.) or even a video monitoring system (also for people like me, who do not live in an apartment complex or have to fortune to live behind a wrought iron gate with my own secuity detail). It would be so sophisticated, that if anyone anywhere in the world was even so much as thinking of visiting you, you'd know about it, and would immediately be able to prepare for their arrival. By prepare, I mean clean and/or make your escape.

Random things I've learned lately:
-People in Australia call mosquitoes 'mozzies'. If this is done in an attempt to cute them up, it fails. However, it is fun to say over and over again.
-There is a slight chance that I might not be as cool as I think I am. This breaks my heart.
-I like people in blogland much better than most of the people I know in my everyday life. You can pick and choose who you want to associate with, not be stuck with obligations to an "old" know, the ones that should have ended years ago, but since you bonded in the 3rd grade over neon colored shoe string hair bows, you feel guilt about moving on.