Sometimes you have to do things you just don't want to do. Those times aren't very often for me.

But Saturday arrived early and full of opportunity to perform the unwanted and unnecessarily necessary duties.

I went about with a somewhat jovial spirit. It was very cold outside and I had the wonderful opportunity of being indoors - so, in my opinion, there wasn't too much to complain about. I am someone who bores very easily, so I was pleasantly surprised when a stranger took up conversation with me. It made the time pass quickly while I prodded along at the menial task I had taken upon myself.

I first noticed him when he sat down near me because he was missing his right arm. Several of his fingers on his left hand were missing the tips. He was very tall and you wouldn't have even noticed his abnormalities because he carried himself with such ease. I know that's hard to believe, but his demeanor was such that you knew he was very comfortable with who he was.

He told me that he was a retired mathematics professor and that he and his wife had bought a ranch and were raising cattle and horses. We discovered several mutual connections (I am amazed every day at how small the world really is) and that we were interested in the same things. He couldn't have been younger than 72. We chatted on - I tried not to talk so much, because I realize that's annoying to other people.

Our time together came to a close and, as any proper young lady would do, I bid him "have a good day!".

"Have a good forever," was the reply I received. "Why stop with just one day?"

And I cried as I drove home. The simplicity of that statement - the depth, still moves me now as I write.

so - have a good forever. And don't stop with just one day.

Where does the light end and the darkness begin?

It's funny how you subconsciously adjust your expectations of yourself and others in certain situations. Like when you swing by the office on your day off wearing flips and a a tube top. Something just doesn't quite feel right....

Yesterday, I was standing in the church foyer (well, it's not really a foyer - but a big entrance area before you walk into the theatre/sanctuary/auditorium) when the girl in front of me at the coffee pot said, "Fuck it!".

I died. And then crumbled into several little pieces.

I don't see myself as someone who is easily embarrassed, but I was. I mean, let that roll around in your noggin. It even sounds harsh in print.

And then, I pictured one of the dozen 8 year olds repeating it a the dinner table and telling mom that he "heard it at church".

Unacceptable.

Which leads me to ask - is it ever acceptable? I mean, we've all heard the f-bomb dropped on numerous occasions, but just picture saying it in the kitchen in front of your mom. Yikes. See what I mean about subconscious expectations?

And was it appropriate for that girl to express herself in such a manner?

I'm not sure how I feel - but it was the first time I've ever heard the f-bomb at church!