Me: Hey, remember when I decorated Tom’s office?
Also Me: Duh. It’s me. Vaguely.
Me: I put a wooden bowl on a piece of red satin and Tom put those weird twig-balls in it that I found on clearance at Target.
Also Me: Where’s my phone?
Me: Try to focus. Listen. That satin isn’t texturey enough. It needs something rustic, rough, under it, like… twine. It needs a pop of red in it to match the red pieces in the balls. It should be round like the balls and the bowl.
Also Me: **snort** You said, “balls.” **giggles**
Me: Um, yeah. Ok. Clearly, I’m on my own here. Hmmm. Maybe I could crochet a circle with twine! And add red yarn to the twine! Texture AND color! Yeah!
Also Me: Um, wait. You’ve never crocheted in the round. You’ve never mixed two really different fibers. Maybe you should teach yourself to crochet in the round with one strand of plain yarn first? And then make a small square with mixed fibers first?
Me: Weren’t you looking for your phone and giggling when I said, “balls?” Go get a glass of wine.
Also Me: On it.
Me: Puh-lease. Why waste time crocheting a circle with plain yarn? And crocheting a small square with the two fibers? How different could it be? I’m going to teach myself a new thing with two mixed fibers which I’ve never done before! Yeah!
Also Me: Here. You’re going to need this wine.
***Two Days Later***
Me: ZOMG, WTF was I thinking?! This is hard! If I have to rabbit this and start over again one more damn time, HEADS WILL ROLL. And this twine is really rough and I have to keep spinning it because it gets twisty. And I thought this was thick enough to go really quickly and it’s not. And I’m totally bored with this.
Also Me: I feel like I tolja. I’m not completely sure. Because, Me.
***Three Days Later***
Me: I finally figured it out. My pointer fingers and thumbs feel like someone took a palm sander to them. And since it’s not going as quickly as I thought it would, I’m so bored with it.
Also Me: Where’s my phone? Oh, here. Hey, why don’t you just stop that and go get some softer, finer twine and start over?
Me: START OVER? No! I got this far and I don’t want to start over. I already spent all this time getting this far.
Also Me: That’s dumb. Leave the house. Get the soft twine. Start over using more suitable fiber. Do it better, do it right. It’s not like you have a deadline. **snide stage whisper** You could’ve gotten 200 more shots culled in the time you’ve wasted.
Me: Duh. We don’t leave the house. And, “Do it better, do it right?” That’s just crazy talk. And, the work? Double shuddup.
Also Me: You’re just mad because I’m right.
Me: I said, SHUDDUP.
Also Me: Where’s my phone?
***Two Days Later***
Me: FINALLY. It’s 11″ diameter. It’s DONE.
Also Me: But your hands are ate up, it took you three times as long because you refused to practice the new things, you’re so sick of that project you’ll probably never do it again, and you shoulda been working. Hey, have you seen my phone?
Me: SHUDDUP, JOY SUCKER. I should bunjee cord that got dam phone to your got dam leg. Screw the phone, where’s that damn wine?!
Also Me: Seriously. Where’s my phone?
After a deluge of negative press, Joel opened the church and went on TV. He insisted that the only reason he hadn’t thrown open the doors was that “the city hadn’t asked” him, and there were other shelters better suited for post-flood recovery efforts nearby. It was starting to add up, though, that the monsoon of negative social media backlash had pressured a quick switcheroo.
The optics couldn’t get much worse for Joel. That is, of course, until you compare how another famous Houstonian reacted to the storm.
Houston furniture magnate and television commercial personality Jim “Mattress Mack” McIngvale publicly announced that all of his furniture stores would serve as additional refuges from the storm. Literally, a for-profit entrepreneur invited a bunch of soaking wet people to come and sleep on (and likely ruin) his inventory. All while the 16,800 seat “Christian” church in town was locked.
[I have many Christian friends on both sides of this issue. It’s pretty much blown up Twitter and it’s been in my Facebook feed a couple times. It’s pretty hard to see some Osteen’s side of the story. Rickey has said it better than I could. Preach, brother! –Dory
P.S. I wish I had time to blog more often! Alas, my work right now is photographer, not writer. Like choosing kittens from a litter. But, hey, I just took time to pass on this hawsum author’s words. Back to work. ]
The number of pairs of Doc Martens I own is only exceeded by the number of Indigo Girls concerts I have been to. I’m, like, so gay, dude.
But that doesn’t make me a lesbian. And when I’m called one — and especially when I’m called one after identifying myself as bi — I’m reminded that how other people perceive me matters more than how I identify myself.
This is so right on the nose.