William Shatner is on my list.
Mr. Negotiator was all No one deals like we do, in his cheap suit and Mod-Squad poses, and also there was that ad with the lemurs in the baby carriage, which was clearly aimed at me. He promised a weekend getaway at a good price, but he lied, because the best plane ticket prices and flight schedules he had to offer were pitiful. (You heard me, Shatner, PITIFUL.)
So I never did make it to my uncle's funeral. Honestly, I was just a little bit relieved, because no one looks forward to a funeral; still, I should have been there.
Late-breaking reports of the funeral describe it as bizarre. My uncle and his wife were the only Jehovah's Witnesses in a large family, and so the funeral was organized by and held in a JW church. Kingdom Hall. Whatever.
Here's everything I know about Jehovah's Witnesses:
When a fancy-dressed cluster of people toting Watchtower pamphlets and a baby come knocking on your door, especially if one of them is a woman in a pillbox hat, you should quickly hunker down below the window line until they move on to the neighbor's house. This is a generally accepted rule in the family, except with my father, who would have cracked open a beer, let them in, and then pestered them with questions about druids and Santa Claus until they ran for their lives.
Apologies to my imaginary bevy of Jehovah's Witness readers, but by all accounts, the family felt bewildered and unwelcome at the service. Apparently there was a lot of convoluted theology to puzzle out, and some dry speaking, but very little mention of my uncle. Also the church people hogged the hymnals, which was not very Witnessy of them.
I'm pretty sure hookers were not allowed in the Kingdom Hall.
So I was at home this weekend after all. I went shopping and out for a birthday lunch with my amazing friend, Lisa (her birthday, not mine). The Body Shop girl gave us samples of wild cherry shower gel in little lip-balm containers. It's only a matter of time until I'm smoothing shower gel on my lips.
Later, the Bearded One, the kids, and I had Chinese food for dinner.
Here was my fortune:
This is supposed to be a good fortune, right? Because my first thought was, someone wants to kill me. Remember these?
I know I'm being all paranoid and negative again, and probably it just means someone is going to give me a gift certificate for a colonoscopy, but I don't know.
I'm buying a hard hat, because you can never be too careful.