THANK-YOU!

Some people do this sort of thing on Facebook where things like food and family photos and political propaganda go, but I felt this was worthy of a blog post because it's special to me because of who sent it to me. I call him my "adopted son" and if I did that on Facebook it would cause mass hysteria of mega proportions so I'll do it here where people take things in stride. Early this morning I had a package delivered to me...you know how packages are still being delivered for Christmas. Our delivery services are certainly highly overwhelmed during the holiday season! When my son, Matthew came to check on me because I was pretty sick last night, he brought me in a huge box that had just been delivered and left by the front door.  I knew it couldn't be a man because the box wasn't big enough and there weren't any air holes in the box. When I opened it, all my dogs immediately started sniffing it so the containts got their approval. Inside was a beautiful Queen-size Alpaca blanket to go on my bed to keep me and my furbabies toasty warm.

Thor wants to know what's the hold up with putting the blanket on the bed? He's ready to break it in!

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

UPDATE: My adopted son sent me an update regarding my gift since it arrived after Christmas (like that mattered to me...I don't paddle asses for minor offenses like that) lol  But he felt he needed to explain why my gift had been delayed. The blanket wasn't his first choice. He had ordered up a MAN (actual flesh and blood) for me, kind of a John Travolta looking-fellow with the dancing skills to back it up. That's what he paid for anyway. Sadly, the idiots at FedEx got the delivery instructions wrong when he said to poke some holes in the box so the hunk of burning love could breathe. Instead, they poked holes in the man. What a mess! Needless to say, he didn't survive shipping. The blanket was just a last minute attempt to save face. I felt it was only right that I update my blog entry with my adopted son's first intentions for my gift so everyone would know what a truly thoughtful person he is. What is it they say about good intentions? Isn't the road to Hell paved with them? hahaha!

I love my blanket...it's much, much better than any John Travolta doppelganger.

STAYING ALIVE

While many people participated in the Disco Era, I was someplace else altogether. I was actually as the song says "staying alive" (Ah, ha, ha, ha, staying alive, staying alive Ah, ha, ha, ha, staying alive...) I do however, remember the music well and now, I have to admit when I hear all the pulsating melodies, it makes me want to shake a tail feather (do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight, get down tonight). Back then, the music seemed so disconnected from where I came and from where I was headed. I now wonder if Donna Summer or Robin Gibb reside in the great hereafter along side all the other great and legendary singers and musicians who are gone, but not forgotten? It makes me wonder where John Travolta would be today without disco. Would he have forever remained just Vinnie Barbarino?

You know, sometimes I really wish I had faith and the same spiritual connection everyone else I know seems to have. Sometimes I want so much to believe as they do and wonder why my thoughts...my heart...my compass keeps me from seeing and feeling what they do where God is concerned. I don't fear death nor do I welcome it, but somehow I'm left out of the loop when it comes to believing that the hereafter is some grand reunion where all things are made infinitely perfect and we miraculously are reunited with one another. Wow! That's just way beyond my comprehension and paygrade. My beliefs seem rather sedate and quite boring compared to that. I think I'll stick to simpler things like hating Walmart. Yes, there I admitted it. I HATE WALMART! I guess that makes me among other things simply and utterly unAmerican.

I really believe if Christians want to find the true Anti-Christ, they need not look any further than their local Walmart Superstore. Who else, but the Devil Himself would coerce an innocent shopper into spending $200 when all they needed was a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread? Who else, but Satan would stock a store that prides itself on being the all-American dream corporation with goods primarily made in China? Yessiree, I think Walmart is one of the greatest clusterfucks on Earth ranking right up there with Logan Airport and driving Interstate 95 between Boston and Richmond (I'm sure other parts of the country have comparable versions of my all time favorite things). Now, that I've gotten that out of my system, I can go about my merry way and prepare for my drive to North Carolina on Thursday. Oh boy, I get to drive through Atlanta and if I'm really lucky I can hit rush hour traffic both going there and coming back.