As I mentioned earlier I think someone wished me an interesting life. I am pretty sure that I am on a very short list of people with this story and the scary part is it's absolutely true.
I went to the movies with my son. He always likes to go to the first showing of the day and on week days the theater is often next to empty. I don't remember what movie we saw. I do remember that the only other people there that day were an elderly couple who I wouldn't have expected to see at that particular movie. As if confirming that they were in the wrong movie they got up and left about fifteen minutes into the showing. My son and I watched the movie and ate our popcorn and as the credits started to roll I tried to get up from my seat. Nothing happened. I didn't move. Curious, I thought. I tried to stand again and nothing. I was firmly seated.
"Hey, Brian," I said. "I can't stand up."
"You're just stiff from sitting."
"No. I really can't get up."
"Here", he said. "Give me your hand. I'll give you a pull."
Nothing. Still seated.
Brian frowned and pulled again. Nothing.
He yanked again, hard, and there was a ripping sound and I finally rose, parts of my jeans till on the seat.
Seems somebody had coated the seat with crazy glue and out of all the empty seats in the theater I chose that one to sit in.
I felt a bit of a draft. "How's it look?" I asked Brian.
He was quiet for a second. "It's not too bad. Keep your shirt pulled down though" he said while trying unsuccesfully not to laugh.
Sixteen different theaters in the complex. Thousands of empty seats and I chose the only one covered in glue. Was it that old couple? I know the theater ended up having to replace that seat and they payed for my jeans. To this day I check my seat before sitting. I'll bet you will too next time you go to the movies.

Weird

Sometimes I am afraid that somebody might have wished me an interesting life. Things happen to me that don't seem quite normal. Once, when I was young (many, many years ago) I was downtown waiting for a bus home after I got off work. I stood on the corner with a group of other tired people heading home also. Finally the bus pulled up to the stop. We shuffled into a line and began to get on the bus. I was about the third person from the door when my underpants fell off. Yes, you heard me. I was wearing a skirt and sandals and as I started forwrd my undies fell off. There was sudden silence all around me. Everyone in line stood frozen staring at my ankles where my pink flowered undies coiled. Trying to act cool as though this was a completely normal thing I was paralized for a second.  I was pretty sure I didn't want to bend over and hike them up under my skirt so I did the only thing I could think of. I stepped out of my panties and calmly got on the bus, leaving the sorry little things on the ground. I did take note that no one stepped on them as they boarded and I also noticed that no none wanted to sit next to me on the way home.
 A few weeks later my mom was doing the laundry and she remarked she hadn't seen my flowered undies in the wash for a while. "Don't know where they are" I told her.
"Well, they can't just fall off and dissapear", she said.
I wisely remained silent.
Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you about the time I stuck in the theater.

gossip

Yesterday I mentioned gossip. It is a funny thing, gossip .It sure seems harmless but it certainly takes on a life of its own sometimes. I was down at the church one afternoon and the ladies were complaining (mostly good-naturedly) about their husbands. I was wishing I could join the conversation, but my dear Ron is such a perfect husband I had nothing to complain about. ( Just so you know, I was trying to find a way to type that last sentence sarcastically, but I couldn't find a sarcastic font so I decided to go with italics, but I really wanted sarcastic.) Anyway, as the conversation went on I tried to come up with something. Finally I settled on how he puts dishes in the sink. See, I have lovely heavy ceramic dishes my son Brian got me for Christmas one year. Unfortunately we also have a ceramic finish sink. When Ron puts a plate in the sink he just sets it on top of anything else that might also be in the sink, the result being, I have an awful lot of chipped dishes. I told those ladies I must have told him a thousand times not to balance plates on other things but to place them carefully underneath so they cannot fall off and get chipped .It just drives me crazy when he does that! I was so excited that I managed to come up with a story about my otherwise wonderful, perfect husband so I could fit in with the ladies. They laughed and told even more stories about their spouses. However......... Sunday when I got to church someone, not one of the ladies I'd told that fascinating story to, took me aside and whispered, "I'm so sorry your marriage is in trouble. Call me if you need someone to talk to." When Ron got home from church later that day he asked me, "Hey, we're not getting divorced or anything are we?" "No", I assured him, "Why?"
"Oh, one of the guys told me you were thinking about leaving me. Figured I might want to check in with you about that."
 "No, we're good"
"OK."
Pretty heavy drama.

hello

I'm not sure why I'm doing this. I guess I just want a place to voice opinions and tell my stories. Of course my stories are intellectual, deep writings, not for the faint of heart. Soooooo here goes.
My name is Cathy and I am somewhat computer challenged, or as my dear son puts it, I am an idiot! Thinking that one of those intuitive keyboards could be a help with my writing I decided to install one on my phone and try it out. I am not sure, but I think the little "intuitive" hiding in the keyboard is not a native english speaker. I tap keys thinking I am making sense then glance at the screen and I have written something that does not reflect my thoughts......at all! An example, my husband was doing a funeral (he's a pastor) and I had a meeting, but I planned on going to the funeral when I was done, but it got a bit late and as I was unfamiliar with the area I decided to just go on home. I pulled out my phone and texted, "I'm heading home. It's getting late and I'm afraid I'll get lost. See you later." A few moments later my husband called me. "What exactly are you doing?" he asked in a strange voice. "I'm going home, why? Didn't you get my text? "Oh I got it , but I was a bit confused about it". What my helpful intuitive keyboard had sent was, "I'm heading home. It's late and I'm piercing condoms."
Yikes! Glad I didn't send that  one to the church ladies. It would keep the gossip going for weeks!!! Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you a bit about the gossip. Nite