Someone call SyFy - I got their next movie

Is it just me or does this whole crashing a rocket into the moon sound like the beginning of a sci-fi movie? Invasion of the Body Snatchers anyone? Or perhaps: The moon blowback sends a wave of alien viruses into the earth's atmosphere, mutating people into spitting, rabid zombies. Ordinary people will be forced to take up arms - guns, tire irons, broomsticks - to [insert dramatic music] fight ... for ... their ... lives.

If you need me, I'll be hunkered down in the back of the closet, muttering to myself and drinking moonshine.

The Titans are Punishing Me

Yes - the ancient Greek and/or Roman titans have banded together to sentence me to router hell. My trusty HP laptop, heavy with overloaded software, took one update too many and disgorged my ability to connect to my wireless router. That leaves me in Hades - tethered to an umbilical Internet connection, unable to type away carelessly from my sofa perch.

Drivers forsake me. Microsoft jests at my misfortune. HP taunts me with pop-ups (thanks for telling me five times in 3 minutes that you're saving my battery life when I'm plugged in to an outlet.) After hours of surfing for answers, it's proven to be more fruitless than Atlas rolling back and forth.

The Titans may have sent me 12 computer labors, but I shall subvert the power of Hercules to act concerned and make others handle this for me. Beware in-laws and quasi-close friends who work in IT! I shall descend upon you with inane questions and then distrust your diagnosis. From this moment on, I shall work no more with tethers!

Churchin' it Up

Supporting my goal to do something new every day, Sunday found me in church. No - the foundation didn't rattle and I was not struck my lightening, but thanks for your concern. Rather, service took place in a middle school down the street, smack dab in between the huddled up cafeteria tables and the serving line. This was the church's first weekly service and as a walk-in I constituted about 1/2 of the service's visitors. The other 18 people were all associated with the church - preacher, preacher's wife, greeters, stage hands, guitarist, bongo player ... You get the idea. So my entrance sparked the same prairie dog response you see in the cubicled office - lots of heads turning, craning for a look. If I were one for entrances, I would have popped off a queenly hand wave and given them permission to kiss my hem. Good thing I'm not since that probably would not have gone over well.

The service was fine - lots of very faithful praising. The guitarist, who took the stage after every other sentence or so, most likely excelled at leading prayer. Most likely because he had a tendency to mumble which put his prayers into a mold like this: Dear God, we mmmbbmm sbmmbss mmmbmmm and thank you mmsnnmmsm ...

Now, I was raised Lutheran. Lutherans tend to hold back on emoting. Our services follow a set pattern - opening, song, Bible readings, sermon, song, communion, song, benediction - and that's a wrap! Thanks for coming. Folks keep their heads down. As much as I'd like to think this is the norm, most folks are a little livelier in their praising - hands held up, shaking, etc. I tend to snail up in these moments - Retreat to the shell! Retreat to the shell! I just can't help it - it's an automatic reaction. So, I did do my share of snailing during this service.

The only regret: That they did light up the disco ball that was hanging in the cafeteria. I have no idea why it was there, but it could have added a whole 'nother dimension to this bad boy.