Today, I attended two baptisms virtually, one in the UK and one in OK.

They were kind of really cool, yet still quite bizarre in the whole situation of each of them. I am glad, nonetheless, that they each happened and that I attended each.

And that I was invited. 🙂

So, I’m officially a godmother now… doesn’t really feel any different than yesterday felt. Although, I do feel as though I ought to have my financial stability settled, if I am to be in such a supportive role (even though it has almost nothing to do with money). I suppose that it merely due to my expectations that adults have finances sorted out – a viewpoint that I, no doubt, developed in childhood via assumption.

I’m not sure I want to know how many adults don’t have their finances sorted out, especially right now.


On a separate note, I keep thinking about teaching I want to do in prisons… hmm… is that part of what’s next, God and Cosmos??

Help me to see, please, or, at least, to step forward confidently where I am best to go next.

In gratitude, amen

I had an early dinner and a game evening with a new-ish friend – the one from brunch from high school! – and her boyfriend and pets and, just at the start, two others, including a year-and-a-half-old child today, too. And it was awesome. Just where I felt was perfect for me to be. Especially when certain conversation developed with the friend’s boyfriend – These are good people, I found myself feeling and thinking, meaning ‘good people for me to have around and be around’. I had simply reached out yesterday about a potential future plan for something else entirely together, and she invited me for some food today. I almost hadn’t sent that message, for nerves, but it had felt right finally yesterday. So, I sent it, and we ended up with an awesome evening tonight, lives merging ever so much more. I am grateful for it.

Post-a-day 2021

Going Gossip Girl crazy

Step One: Fall in love with Blake Lively.

Step Two: Watch Gossip Girl, simply because it stars Blake Lively (but also because I am stuck at home alone and feel like I have no friends, since we aren’t supposed to socialize in real life right now, and watching the show makes me feel like I have friends in whose lives I am invested and everything).

Step Three: Fall in love with Chuck Bass, the character.

Step Four: Fall slightly in love with Ed Westwick, the actor who plays Chuck Bass.

Step Five: Discover that Ed Westwick is actually British, and fall a little bit more in love with him.

Step Six: Pointedly ignore the fact that these are all people I never will meet, be it that they are either fictitious or absurdly famous – whatever the case, they are basically unreachable by me – as well as the fact that I am in love with the character people are supposed to dislike and almost hate.

Step Seven: Daydream middle school obsessively about them all, and even consider putting up posters on my wall of a tanned, slightly unshaven Ed Westwick.

Step Eight: Acknowledge that my love is absurd, determine not to be worried about it, indulge happily, and accept confidently my own silly and delightful absurdity that truly helps to pass the time well.

Step Nine: Do near-absurd levels of research of Ed Westwick interviews online, and enjoy it thoroughly.

Step Ten: Get over it all suddenly and entirely, and move on with ease, almost forgetting that it was ever even a thing, and preparing mentally for whatever shall come next in life and personal fancies. 😛

Gossip Girl Crazy

Post-a-day 2020

Blood Driving

I have given blood three times.  You can still see the spots where each needle hung out in my arm for a while, as it guided the blood from my body and into a nearby sanitary bag.  The spots actually remind me of pock marks.  It’s weird, really – they look unnatural (and, well, they are).

The oddest bit about this, though, is that these marks are still here, after all this time.  The last time I donated blood was a year or two ago.  Before that was about nine and ten years ago.

I have never much liked donating blood.  I realize the value in it, and I still dislike doing it myself.  I’d rather help put on a blood drive, and donate my time and energy that way.  However, the reason I gave blood began in high school.  

Our school was having a drive.  I thought it was awesome, though I didn’t necessarily intend to participate – frankly, I was terrified.  I had the permission form, but I hadn’t yet determined if I were going to get my mom to sign it or not (or was it already signed, but I wasn’t sure if I were going to turn it in?).  One of my best friends appeared in front of me, utterly annoyed on the first day of the drive, and informed me that she couldn’t give blood, because you can’t have spent more than a couple years in England before 1994.  She had been there for about four years before then, and so was therefore removed from any chances of ever giving blood in the US.

At this information, and her distress, I determined my course of action.  I did not want to donate blood, but she did.  She could not, and I could.  Therefore, I would donate for her, on her behalf.

And so I did for several years.  There was once that I couldn’t donate due to low iron in my blood (not enough greens after I had been sick), and then about two years where I was not allowed, because I had been to Kingston, Jamaica, which is apparently a no-go for US blood donation.  By the time those two years were up, though, my friend had discovered that she could donate blood in the U.K., where she was (and still is) living.  She forever would be allowed to donate blood there, and so I no longer had to do it for her.

The last time I gave blood, was out of a sense of duty and support, I suppose.  My school (where I was working) was hosting a drive, and someone specifically asked me to support, so I did.  I even got my teacher shadow to participate, too.  A different time, the school had another drive, but I wasn’t able to donate, because they had closed down before I was free from classes.  I donated once, though, completely of my own accord, and for that I am proud.  (Not in a snobby, snotty sense.  Just proud that I succeeded in doing what I felt was a good thing to do, despite my fear and discomfort in doing it.)

As I write this, I can’t help but to feel that there was one other time during college, at which time I was able to give blood…, but I really don’t remember.  I even have a spot on my arm that looks like it might have been a fourth needle, but I’m not certain.

Anyway, those are my current brain thoughts swirling around right now.