A Religious Experience

So last night I saw the sign. It opened up my eyes.

Our new bathroom's theme is the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. With a little dash of his mother Mary thrown in. Not like goofy, Buddy Christ, sort of stuff. Vintage, for realsies, someone was inspired to paint a portrait of the Prince of Peace, King of Kings and we are hanging it over our toilet. Very majestic.

There are two light switches in the bathroom. One controls a light above the shower. The other controls a light and a fan above the toilet. We were working with only the light above the shower while the other switch was in the off position.

As we were tenderly and prayerfully hanging the various tributes to God's only son, an out and out miracle occurred!

Just as we finished straightening the reproduction of the Last Supper mounted on a slice of tree from the Ozarks, the other light and fan all of a sudden came on. The switch was still down and I was nowhere near it!!!! Pembertron and I looked at each other in amazement.

"Did you just do that?"

"No, did you?"
"Nope."

"........"

"Try flipping the switch up."

I flip the switch up and the light and fan stay on.
I flip the switch down and the light and fan stay on.
I flip the switch up and the light and fan stay on.
I flip BOTH switches down and everything turns off.

".........."

"Try it again."

I flip each switch up one at a time and everything seems to have returned to normal.

"..........."

Nervous laughter
"Jesus."

Brudduh

Ahem. Oh. Excuse me. My brother has the amazing knack of crying like a widdle poopy pants baby. And also farting a lot. He loves it. It's his favorite thing. Wah Wah Wah widdle baby.

Height of Luxury.

I only shit on the finest of crystals.

Yes, I Live in the NorthWest. No, I Don't Want to Go Camping.

Please note that this is not a character flaw, but simply an activity I have never enjoyed. I wish I could be that cool girl who casually pulls her hair into a ponytail, glows and glistens rather than sweats and can build a stellar campfire with ease. However, my hair is short, I really hate being unshowered and last time I checked, only I can prevent forest fires.

Don't get me wrong...I'm pretty kickass in other ways. (You'll just have to trust me on that one.)

Poetically, I love nature. Animals are tremendous in theory. But much like I am not thrilled when a spider "goes camping" in my bedroom, I can't imagine that a bear enjoys my presence either. I mean...let's just take a moment to think about how I deal with Mr. Spidey. I don't want to be smooshed with a giant square of Charmin* and flushed down a toilet. Nobody likes that.

But here is my main issue with camping:

Pooping and peeing outside. Gross! Who does that? Crazy homeless people, that's who. Like I said before, I think animals are dandy...but I have evolved past using a tree as a shitter. What if another camper walks by later and then knows specifically what my poo looks like? What if I get a bug bite or a splinter in an unfortunate zone?! What if a lizard LOOKS AT ME?!?!

Indoor plumbing is my friend. My idea of roughing it is a public restroom without a working privacy fan and a lack of paper ass protectors. Good god! Are we living in the Old West?!

Maybe this all sounds high maintenance, but it is effing 2008. I demand a locking door, a working flusher, and some grapefruit scented antibacterial soap, damn it!

I love this area of the country. I love all the Birkenstocks and the granola. I feel at home here. I want to be friends with all of you. If you need to go camping one weekend, I am happy to take that weekend and read a book indoors. We'll meet up later for something we both enjoy. Just...please don't make me go potty outside.

*favored bath tissue brand of bears