Okay, so this really really really surprised me. Why it surprised me, I have no idea, but, hey, it did, so let's go with it.

I followed up on the issue du jour, and didn't get the response I had hoped for, but hey, such is life. You win some, you lose some, and along the way, you learn a lesson or two.

So, while learning today's lesson, several people called me when I was home sick this afternoon. The second sentence of each and every person was, "Are you okay?" (the first sentence being a greeting, of course).

All I can say is, "Wow!" I had no idea. I had no idea I was so bad at hiding when something is off or wrong. I had no idea that everyone could sense it so strongly. And I had no idea how big my support network is.

Thanks to everyone who called and wrote. You've made me feel more loved than I could have or would have expected. And you have absolutely no idea how much I needed the help.

Hugs!

Ah, I'm not supposed to be this humoured by an ultimate picture, but this one just cracks me up.

One of the great things about keeping a journal is that it provides a nice history of things important to me at a given time. I can look back through the various entries and be entertained, horrified, amused, or puzzled. All perfectly valid responses given the varied posts I make about the events in my life.

The theory goes if I keep this up, I'll have a nice chronology of my life, and will be able to laugh about most of this when I'm a crotchety old lady, sitting on the porch with my Crazy Cousin Kelly, cackling about something or other.

Assuming I'm sane enough to be able to read it.

Well, and that she's still game for that plan. Given she has a kid now, Gadi might think I'm just too crazy for her mom to hang out with. Or she might in 80 years.

The biggest problem with this plan, however, is that I don't write when I'm down. When things get rough, or I get overwhelmed, the first thing that gets chucked off the list is this, the writing, the purging of the thoughts, ideas, fears, feats, accomplishments, or events that humour me. Note the gap just last month, mid-October. I was writing a little bit, but wasn't finishing anything, and several people actually commented to me about it.

So, now, here I am in a similar place. Some of the issues I'm struggling with I'm surely not supposed to talk about, and sometimes I think I'm not supposed to have in the first place. But that reckons back to expectations, of which I have a huge long thought/post about.

Not talking about these issues is hard, because some of them deal directly with people, friends I'd desperately would like to talk to about the situation, but can't seem to do it. Not being able to solve a problem staring me in the face is incredibly frustrating. Not solving is isn't my style. Eh, people aren't my forte either, and those two are going hand-in-hand at the moment.

Ah, well. Vague enough to bore even myself, and accomplish little.

SuperHappyDevHouse5 is this weekend, and I'm terribly entertained by the thought of this one.

As the last one was my first one, I didn't really know what to expect. I did greet people at the door (is it bad that I seem to enjoy that? It fits just so well with my personality), but that's about all I did except bring whiteboards.

This one, I'm helping David and Jeff a little bit. In the spirit of BarCamp, the last SuperHappyDevHouse (SHDH4, from now on) had presentations. Several people stepped up and presented, with several more people holding back for fear of not having anything "cool enough" to present.

Kid you not. "Not cool enough" was the reason one fellow told me he didn't want to present. I don't recall who he was, but in retrospect, I think he was an idiot for not presenting - it was a huge opportunity to receive really, really good feedback from people who can help.

As in seriously help.

I should have tried to convince him to present.

Oh well. Fire missles!

So, for this SuperHappyDevHouse (yes, SHDH5), we'll be having prizes for presenters. Entertaining prizes. Like Doyle-and-I standing-in-a-trophy-shop mocking-the-figurines prizes. I think one is absolutely hysterical. I hope everyone else does, too.

Worst comes to worst, they'll be funny at 3:00 am.

The trick, I think, is going to be picking one project I want to work on. Picking one! One!

Well, that and actually working on it.

Returning from an ultimate tournament is always a mini culture-shock. Not the shock of returning from Peru or Curacao or Scotland or Hong Kong, but the return always requires a slight perception adjustment.

On the way to work this morning, I had a rude awakening as, once again, a driver pulled out in front of me at the last. possible. moment and proceeded to drive more slowly than either the speed limit or the road conditions would dictate.

Because, of course, the four blocks of empty space was too small to pull into, and in front of me was clearly the only place to be.

Clearly.

Much different than leaving the driving to Kris the whole week.

Much.

So, while following the doofus for the seven blocks that our commutes overlapped, I looked down to see how slowly we were driving and, what the?, my car was in mph.

MPH? Huh?

Okay, who's been driving my car?

I switched it back to km/h, only to have it switch back to mph when I started it back up 10 minutes later. If I wanted to drive the car in mph, I wouldn't be complaining about the car switching from km/h.

The gas tank level readings were also fluctuating between two bars and eight, so I'm getting concerned about the electrical system. The radio stations hadn't reset, so the battery isn't dead. Apparently a week of not being driven is cause for concern.

At least I ordered a replacement bumper and front right quarterpanel for the car today. Doyle offered to help me switch out the damaged ones, so we have a project for this weekend or next. Tragically, they don't come painted, so I'll have to get them painted after we've replaced them.