Serial Killers

I’ve never actually thought that I could possibly, one day be murdered by a serial killer. It was never my greatest fear. My greatest fears are closer to having a wolf bite off my hand or being eaten by piranha in a swimming pool.

Last night I was bored. This is not good because the old saying is true, “idle hands are the devils play things.” It wasn’t actually the devil that tempted me to do this. It was just my own curiosity. I made an eharmony profile. I only used my middle name, but I did fill it out honestly. All the while making fun of the questions. It reminded me a little of those forwarded emails people used to send that said, “fill this out and send it to all your friends or you will die a horrible death.” At the end of the extremely long list of rating myself, I came to found that I had 7 matches within a 30 mile radius of my hometown. I read some of their profiles, but I couldn’t see their pictures or contact them without paying the piper. Like I would actually do that. So I left it.

Then, as I was now again bored with nothing to do, I thought about it. They could see my picture if they were paying customers… They know my hometown… They know my middle name…  They know the bare minimum of who I am… What if one of them is a serial killer?! I kept telling myself that was silly because they really don’t know anything about me, but it kept gnawing at me like a rat gnaws on a cacao pod. I would never actually pay the fee to meet these men anyway so what do I need it for? Then I deleted my profile so serial killers couldn’t find something out about me, find me, and hide in my attic until they decided to kill me. After that I watched Kiss the Girls. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. And that night when I turned off my lights and went to bed, I also locked the deadbolt on my door to make sure that tonight I would not be murdered in my bed.

Reflecting Light

You shine on us
And we reflect you
Lord you're beautiful
You are the Light

Everything that's beautiful is because the light
The stars and the moon and yes diamonds too
They all reflect...the light

Light makes them beautiful
You make me beautiful
May I always reflect you
Let me shine with you're truth

Lord you're beautiful
You are the Light

Not Quite Dirty Dancing

Click here to see some Dancing

Ballroom Dancing. I haven’t quite gone over this subject of my life for this blog yet, so if you have never taken a dance class, you can learn a little here. Be aware that it will not help you dance or inform you of actual dance steps. When I decided to take this class I didn’t think about the fact that I wouldn’t want to be close and hold somebody for 50 minutes straight twice a week. I knew it wouldn’t be anything like the movies. There would not be happy Baltimore rats dancing around our feet like in Hairspray, or janitors who just want to lift us up because it looks funner than changing a light bulb like in Step Up. And don’t even think that there will be a Patrick Swayze type because everyone in this class are beginners not resort performers.

One good thing about this class is that we don’t wear shoes. I’m very thankful for that when the guy can’t keep time and keeps stepping on my toes. This was the case during my latest class. I didn’t think I would be picking one of the less suitable dance partners, but then that’s not really what I’m thinking when the teacher says it’s ladies choice. I think, “Oh no! I better grab a guy quick so I don’t end up dancing with one of those timid girls that are usually left overs.” Dancing with one of the left overs is like deciding what color of socks to wear when you won’t be taking off your shoes. It doesn’t really matter, but what if? With one of the left overs you have to decided who will lead. It usually depends on height or which one of you cares the least about being the leader. When I have been stuck with one of the left overs, the teacher sees how much we’re floundering and switches up the couples. It’s quite a relief because she always puts me with someone good.

There are a few guys that I really enjoy dancing with because they are pretty good, but a couple of them are just kinda hot. Quamay (way off with the spelling on that name) is just such a guy. His well, muscled arms and chest are enough to keep me occupied while we dance around the floor. Richie is also a lovely dance partner. I would like to have him for all my dance tests; but alas, many of the girls ask him. That almost became a problem during our first test. He had to dance in 3 of the 4 sets of tests.

The kind of guys that are annoying to dance with are the ones that can’t keep time. Who think they are doing something right and they’re not but they won’t shut up to let you tell them. Who think they are always right and keep trying to tell you how to do something that you already know how to do. Who keep telling you that you’re tense or thinking too much when actually you are not tense and you’re mind is a blank with daydreams about wanting to dance with someone else. The worst of all of these is the guy who can dance good enough that you don’t mind dancing with him, but he is just short enough that his breath line is in your face and he didn’t brush his teeth that day.

I can only hope that this class will pay off and I’ll be able to live out my fantasy of dancing around a beautiful caste ballroom in a glistening yellow dress with a hairy beast in a suit while the teapot sings and the music swells. I might have to move to France though…

 

Dried Cranberries...

In an attempt to eat healthier, dried cranberries have become my new favorite snack. They are fruity and delicious! A few years ago when I tried craisins I unfortunately purchased Cherry flavored. Where does Ocean Spray come up with these horrible mixtures of flavors? Cranberries should taste like cranberries. Cherry flavored crainsins taste like dried cranberries covered in cherry cough syrup. The experience was forever ingrained in my taste buds’ memory. But, Alas! I accidentally bought a cherry flavored bag of craisins the other day and just realized this. I will never open this bag for myself so if anyone wants bastardized dried cranberries come and get them. The back of the package shows even more disturbing flavors of crainsins. You can have pomegranate, blueberry, or cherry “juice infused” crainsins. If I was a cranberry farmer I would be disgusted with the way Ocean Spray uses it’s cranberries like bodies for extraterrestrial cherry flavors to inhabit. I think we need to get Molder and Scully on the case!