Nevada Theology

This past Sunday we decided to try out one of the local churches. I found a list online--it was quite long considering this town is only a little larger than my old high school. We crossed out the ones we were already late for, and then headed out. We pulled up to our first choice after going around the block a few times, missing it as it looked like a small house. There were a grand total of 4 cars in the "parking lot." We looked at each other and decided to try the next one. I hate being clearly a guest and introduced to everyone and their aunt, sister, cousin, daughter-in-law and pet hamster, all while I'm trying to look super excited and sneaking my hand sanitizer as there are invariably 6 sick people sneezing and coughing their way through service. I digress...

We headed out of to the next one, which was much larger, but clearly Catholic (due to actually attractive architecture), which is fine, but we aren't Catholic. Then comes the biggest one in town, the LDS church. Can I say "hell no!?" That sounds terrible, but ya, not going there... Anyway, we found one that looked inviting enough, and had like 8 cars in the parking lot, woot woot! It was called New Hope Foursquare Church. I like hope, and I used to play foursquare, so we thought, what the heck, let's try it.

We were 36 minutes late, but it's hard to be on time when you have no clue when it starts (if you are wondering how we found out, we asked a random lady walking in what time service started). We stepped into the bright foyer and looked into the sanctuary, which, to our unadjusted eyes, looked pitch black. Are they normal? Dancing with snakes? All 500 years old? We stepped into the darkness blindly, or rather, Brady pulled me into it. We self consciously slipped into the 3rd row (of 5) and surveyed our surroundings as the preacher said hello. I hated that we were called out in front of everyone, but as we were sitting less than 5 feet from where he was preaching, it probably would have been more awkward if he ignored us.

The sanctuary was small, but nicely decorated, and the congregation looked pretty normal if not for one little thing--there were kids. Everywhere. Like a lot of them. Everyone had at least 2, and they were all under 6. Wow, I thought, I'd better (or rather, we'd better) get busy to keep up with these folks. Brady looked a little nervous, he kept looking at them as they ran around and made little kid noises, occasionally looking at me like, "What the heck?!" I just smiled and told him to try to ignore them, which was challenging at best. The preacher looked about our age, and it became evident that 2 of the little rugrats were his. Every so often they would go up to him and he would acknowledge them and then tell them to go back and sit next to their (extremely pregnant) mommy.

I actually kind of like that the kids were in the service, it made it kind of homey, like we were all gathered in someone's living room. After a brief sermon (on parenting, of course) we got to chat with a few folks and the preacher invited us over for dinner in a few weeks (after the baby is born). The church culture was so different than the South. Everyone wore jeans, and several people wore boots. The brothel, gambling, and drinking were all brought up casually with and/or by the preacher, things that would have any good Southern Belle blushing. Thank goodness I'm no Southern Belle. We plan on going back, though we do not plan on adding anymore than 2 to the congregation, for the time being at least. ;-)

Wow, I HATE customer service

So I recently ordered DSL and DirectTV though ATT and for some inexplicable reason my name is correct on my DirectTV account but they have me as "Pauline" on my DSL stuff. I have no idea how this happened as I think I spelled my name 15 times for the rep and the bill is bundled, but hey, it happens. I HATE calling customer service, so I thought I would take advantage of the chat support ATT offers. Apparently this was not a good idea.

Prior to being connected, I entered my name and the cause of my issue: Incorrect name on account. Here is what followed:

System

Welcome Mr. Colleen Stocks.

System

Connecting to server. Please wait...

System

Connection with server established.

System

Technical Support Topic: Account Maintenance

System

ADRIAN has joined this session!

System

Connected with ADRIAN

ADRIAN

Thank you for choosing AT&T Internet Services. My name is Adrian (rg844j).

ADRIAN

I see that I am chatting with Mr. Colleen Stocks and you provided *&$*#))$&^ as the number associated with your DSL/Dial account. Am I correct?

You

yes

You

Ms. Colleen Stocks actually

ADRIAN

Thank you for the confirmation.

You

my acct. number is #$(#&(#&$(&#@@

ADRIAN

Thank you for the confirmation.

ADRIAN

I apologize I am not able to pull up the account.Are you using U-verse services?

You

No, DSL, account number (&(&(&#%(&#&@&

You

My name is incorrect on my account

You

it says "Pauline" instead of "Colleen"

ADRIAN

Alright.

ADRIAN

Thank you for the information.

ADRIAN

How can I make you a very satisfied customer today?

You

I would like my name corrected firstly

You

and also I wanted to ask about why I lose service occasionally on my DSL

ADRIAN

I apologize for the inconvenience you have experienced due to this issue.

You

no problem, I just wanted to ask about it

ADRIAN

May I know where do you want to change the name.

You

I'm not sure I understand what you mean.

You

All of the mail I have received says "Pauline" and that is not my name

ADRIAN

I am sorry, I am not able to understand where do you want to want to correct your name.

ADRIAN

Could you please explain me little more.

ADRIAN

Alright.

You

THe mail I have received regarding my new DSL account is addressed to "Pauline Stocks." My name is actually "Colleen Stocks." It rhymes so I guess the rep wrote it incorrectly when I signed up

ADRIAN

Okay.

ADRIAN

In order to correct the name, you need to contact our billing department, we have a dedicated department to change the name in our records.

ADRIAN

I would request you to please contact our Billing department and they will provide you the accurate information. You can contact them at 1-800-288-2020 (toll free) between M-F 8am-7pm CT, Sat: 8am-5pm CT, Sun: Closed

You

awesome thx

ADRIAN

We are high speed Internet technical support.

You

i thought u might be able to help, peace out

More funny signage!

The Laundromat

So, as today was laundry day, I headed off to the (only) laundromat. I should've gone 1st thing, but, me being me, I procrastinated until about noon. I recently read an article about procrastination that said that the reason I, a procrastinator, procrastinate is that I am afraid that I will not perform perfectly, and delay the action so that I may have an excuse as to why the finished product was not exemplary. "If I had only had more time..." the procrastinator laments. I loved this article, as it meant that I was not lazy, o no, far from it. I was a perfectionist. That is much more honorable vice. As I found things around the trailer to do this morning, my newfound revelation began to crumble before my very eyes. Was I really insecure about my laundry abilities? Was my anxiety about choosing the correct water temperature or adding too much soap really delaying my laundry duty? I would hope not. If I had only gone to the laundromat earlier, these socks would be much better paired. Or perhaps not. Perhaps I just don't like going?

When I finally did go, I found myself alone. This surprised me, as last week I had many laundry-doing companions. I reveled in this unknown side-effect of my procrastination. Maybe I could actually do my laundry in solitude, and read my Sedaris in peace. I got my wish for about 5 minutes when in waddles in a cheery lady in her 60s. She remarks about how few people there are, and no children, to which I remark, "Yes, it's quite nice isn't it? It was so quiet when I got here." She did not read into my (not so) subtle comment, and start chatting to me about how many blouses she had to wash and her husband hanging these to dry and on and on.

She finally leaves and I get into another essay about death when enters angry wife beater man. I do not mean that I assumed that he beat his wife (rather I assumed that he did not have one) but merely that he wore a "wife-beater" style tee shirt. He forcefully shoved his laundry into a machine, then started cursing when is did not take his money correctly. "Why the f*** does this machine NEVER take money right?" he yelled, slamming his fist on the top of the washer. "Why the f*** do you ALWAYS use it, then?" I thought, but "Finicky, huh?" was all I said. He responded with a grunt and a look he shot me, like "Ya, that's the understatement of the year."

He finally leaves and in comes his polar opposite, uber-cheery clean shaven man, with the biggest permanent smile on his face. He greets me with his ridiculously happy face and cheerily informs me that there are some kids giving away chihuahua/pitbull puppies outside. I commented that I'd like to know how that one happened to which he laughed and said he asked the kids the same question, but they didn't really answer, since, ya know, they are kids.

After I was done folding my laundry, my curiosity was peaked, so I went to see these freak of nature puppies. They were cute, 2 looked like pits and 2 more like chihuahuas, but all were underweight and filthy, and they had no water. I talked to the boys for a while, and shot menacing glares at their mother sitting in the car, her conscience in my opinion somewhere between that of a serial killer and child molester. I went inside and asked the checker if they had any small bowls or cups I could put water in for the poor, starving, helpless puppies outside. She thought for a minute and told me that no, they did not. I thought, bullshit, of course you do you little brat. "Well," I said, "I see you have a soda fountain there, may I have a cup and some water?" so I can throw it in your face? I continued in my head. "O well then I'll have to charge you 25 cents." O you'll have to, really? Like who exactly is forcing you to withhold water from poor starving puppies? Hitler himself? "OK," I said, and handed her a quarter.