On a mission from God since 1992

Catholic guilt. Parental guilt. Wonder twin powers activate! Form of me going church for 3 weeks in a row... and it's not even Christmas. Or Easter.

I went home again this weekend for several reasons. One, I was off... again. It was amazing. Two, my parents have better cable and a warmer house... stocked with food. Three, I had to go home to see that special someone... who is covered in fur. My parents go to church every week. I wouldn't necessarily say they're devout, more like riddled with Catholic guilt and fear of the nuns. And thanks to this same Catholic guilt and fear of nuns with parental guilt as a cherry on top, I end up going to church every Saturday night I'm home. It's not that I'm not religious, I honestly don't know what I am. When it comes to religion, I just assume that Lost got it right and go with that. It's just I have a fear of being struck by lightning every time I step on hallowed ground... or turned to stone. I saw Hocus Pocus, I know it could happen.

I wouldn't say I'm a bad person, per se.... I just say bad things sometimes... that might offend people. A lot of people. But, I mean, the Justice League of the Hereafter has to have a sense of humor, right? Look at my life- if it's not pure knee-slapping good time for some omniscient being, I don't know what is. And my second point... the platypus. Anyway, the inside of a church while mass is going on is not the best place for me, especially since they changed the words to the same old mass that I've been going to since they dunked me in a bucket of water and called me a Catholic. I don't deal with change well, I still say a lot of the old words. Then realize I say the old words. Then say a word that would have gotten my wrist taken clean off had a nun heard me say it in grade school. Hopefully I at least get points for trying?

Then there's the snack time near the end of mass. I actually like the communion wafer. I think they would be able to market them as a healthy and holy breakfast food. Seriously. Instead of people seeing the image of Jesus in a piece of toast, Jesus would BE the toast. However, sometimes they let the wafers sit out for awhile and they go a bit stale... and then it's somewhat difficult to hide my distaste for them. I would say it's still a step up from when I was a kid and truly believed that it WAS the body of Christ... as in cannibalism on the holiest of scales. It makes sense considering I wasn't the best student in religion class. I couldn't remember the authors of the Gospels, but for some reason "John, Paul, George, and Ringo" stuck out in my mind. I got the answer wrong. And I got to see the nun after class. The same nun who caught me outside of class when I wasn't supposed to be and I told her I was, "On a mission from God." The Blues Brothers was my favorite movie... in kindergarten.

Well, hopefully this didn't offend anyone too much. The ever-powerful "they" say never to talk about religion or politics. I guess I didn't mention politics.... so here you are!

(Oh, most of the political stuff is actually posted by the morons on the comments section.)

Slush Road Cavy

Since I have been on the super secret team at the hell hole recently, I haven't had much to say other than complaining about all the hush-hush projects I've had to endure...but can't speak openly about. I'm like a retail James Bond with ninja skills... except not as cool. Not nearly as cool. Alas, that's about all I'm allowed to say... you never know, there are secret agents from Kohls everywhere. The saddest part is, it's all true. We were bound to secrecy in fear our competitors might overhear and steal this ridiculous new strategy. When customers ask me what's going on, I reply, "We're trying a new strategy we learned from Montgomery Wards and Lazarus." Some of them will accept this answer, but others will look perplexed and reply, "But those stores are closed." To which, I just nod and give and emphatic, "Exactly." However, I will still roam around the store humming "Secret Agent Man"... or the theme from the Pink Panther.

Since my job is now under-wraps, I shall divulge all the juicy details of my weekend... that's

right, weekend. I had a real one this time. Like most normal people, I got off of work at 5:00pm on Friday and didn't have to be back till 9:00am Monday. It was a glorious sensation. I felt alive. I felt renewed. I finally knew what Loverboy was talking about... I could just hear that cowbell. Since everyone was watching to see what I would do, I felt the pressure to get it right... get it right. I wanted to go somewhere and do something spontaneous, but a midnight train going anywhere just seemed dangerous. So I hopped in my I-wish-I-could-still-call-him-trusty Cavy and headed for Latrobe where at least I would be fed...aaaand cue the snow. Most people would turn back, but, oh no, I had a grumble in my tummy and a nice warm house on my mind. A major section of the commute was not bad... until we got to the dark lands where the Penn Dot workers really take out some anger issues on unsuspecting drivers. I'm pretty sure they added snow to the road. Either that or I took a wrong turn and ended up on Ice Road Truckers. Hey, maybe I could have my own show- Slush Road Cavy.

Eventually my earning-back-my-trust Cavy and I did make it home and were handsomely rewarded with a warm house (and a garage), food, and gifts aplenty.... even though the gifts aplenty are going to put me on Hoarders one day. My mom finds deals. She likes coupons. She likes clearance items. Even if these items are already stockpiled in the house or we don't actually need. Case in point- my mom handed me two bags of pinecones. Yes, pinecones. Apparently they were on sale. I don't know if she got swindled by a squirrel, but last time I checked, pinecones were free as long as you found the right tree. So now I have two bags of pinecones sitting on my living room couch. Oh well, I guess I'll keep them. Maybe they can decorate the library in my Scottish castle.

True Life: I'm a Disney Princess

Once upon a time, in a far away land of the black and gold, there lived a young lass who dreamed of a world outside of this kingdom made of steel. A world where she no longer had to fold clothes or scrounge for change to buy a few measly pieces of bread and a large sweet tea with way too much ice in it. A world where she could create art and be content. Then, one day, she heard the opening notes of Aha's "Take on Me" and was magically transported into an animated world with talking animals, dragons, and magic. This land was ruled by an evil Raven queen and her equally evil dragon flyer, Phil. Our young heroine swiftly defeated this dastardly duo with the help of a magical pierogie. Her heroics and sassy wit entranced the young prince, whom she saved from his imprisonment by the evil queen in a field of jaggerbushes. This handsome Scottish prince lead her to a castle, where he already had an enormous library filled with every book imaginable (no nooks or kindles here) and a theater where they could watch moving pictures together and even a studio where she could make her own movies for the entire land to enjoy. And they lived happily ever after.

...or at least that's how I thought my life was going to be like when I was finally that magical "Disney princess age" (between 16 and 20). I was convinced as a child that I was, in fact, a cartoon character. It all started when I was about 4 and I thought I was Cinderella. Completely, 100% convinced I was Cinderella. It didn't help that my mother sat a bucket of water in front of me and I was content cleaning the floors as long as the water was bubbly enough, I had a kerchief in my hair and a song in my heart, which, of course, I would sing aloud. So I became that kid who would walk around singing and talking to birds and mice, waiting for my fairy godmother or my Halloween pumpkin to turn into a coach.

Of course, a few years later, I realized how silly this was. I wasn't Cinderella. I was Ariel. During my swimming lessons, I could stay afloat and propel my body in a forward motion... I just didn't want to kick my legs. I had a fin, you know, I had to move them together. I failed swimming lessons miserably. However, I like to think that if I ever actually need to be able to swim to survive, the sea creatures will save me thanks to my bond with them due to my time as a mermaid.

Then I grew up a little more and realized that Ariel was a little too flighty for me. And really? Giving up everything, including her voice and family for a man she doesn't even know? Who

does that? No, I needed to be a little more level headed. Still independent, intelligent, but with strong family ties. That's when I met Belle and I was convinced she was my animated doppleganger. I learned how to read and walk at the same time thanks to the library that was located inside the local supermarket... it made grocery shopping with my mother bearable. I already loved to read, but I really threw myself into it. I'm pretty sure that I was the only child who actually got yelled at for reading too much. But some of my best friends were in these books. And I could travel to so many places before I was even able to drive. I'm not sure if I ever got out of my "Belle" phase. It might even be the premise for my "Hoarders" episode. I can see it now, the cameras enter the house to stacks and stacks of books. A small voice is heard from behind one of the piles, "No! You can't take these! They're for my Beauty and the Beast Scottish Castle...What do you mean this candlestick isn't talking?"

Time flies when the Tardis is your Christmas Tree

Haul out the holly, put up the tree before my spirit falls again. Fill up the stockings, I may be rushing things, but deck the halls again now. For we need a little Chris.... wait, it's over? It's been almost a month since Christmas? I guess my wish to hibernate till January was almost granted... minus the part where I was awake to see the sun rise almost every day about 2 weeks before Christmas trying to paint a nativity set for my mother. I think she appreciated it though- I believe the term she used was "bullshit" when I told her I made it for her. Happy birthday, baby Jesus!

For once, I did have a nice, rather uneventful holiday. The only downside was, I couldn't blink or turn away from my Christmas tree (this year's theme: "The Angels have the Christmas tree). I was even good at Christmas Eve mass... still demoted to the children's mass, but completely silent save for falling asleep BEFORE mass started and a few comments about the Pope finding a thesaurus...and maybe a little something about the paperclip from Microsoft Word being a new prophet by "suggesting" new words. Thanks, Catholic church for teaching me new words... and making me look like a fool when I proudly recited the prayers I memorized in grade school... then realized the words were wrong. At least the nuns weren't there to slap my wrist.

Then New Years rolled around and because enjoying Christmas was too good to be true, I got sick during the Christmas present to myself:

Yup, I was right there on the ice... just about 2 levels above it toting my camera with a pretty damn good zoooooom. However, I did realize during my holiday hibernation that I might be Anne Franking it a bit too much in my attic room. So my New Years resolution was to get out more... but judging by the small nest that I made in front of my computer and the fact I'm already halfway through season 3 of Supernatural, which I just started watching about a week ago, I've already failed miserably. So my new resolution is to become an extreme couponer. This is probably for the better since come December 21st all that will be left are hoarders, extreme couponers, and crazy people. Two out of the three already describe me... so why not make it all three? And if the world doesn't end, maybe I could get a show on TLC.