[a day in] tiny town, usa

We just got back from a visit at the Grandparent's this week.  No one ever believes us when we say that Mom is from wa-haaaaaaay down south on county roads that go for miles and miles and miles and miles.  I myself have taken friends out there with me and it never fails that every time they start to get a little antsy, asking me if I'm sure I know where I'm going and thinking that I am some kind of crazed serial killer taking them to their death.  Seriously, it is that far.

My mom's parents still live in the Tiny Town [pop. 3,000] that she grew up in, deep in Alabama.  Well, to say that would imply that they actually live in said Tiny Town.  Truth be told they live about 15 miles outside of Tiny Town in a community.  Remember in Social Studies when they would teach you about communities?  Well, they do exist.  My Granddaddy, at the ripe ole age of 79 became the oldest living male in their community.  Ha!  [And he still proudly holds that title.]  His older brother lives in a community over so he is safe!

One of the down sides of living so far out of Tiny Town is there is limited access to internet and cell service.  For a while there [mostly while I was in college & grad school] I loved having this excuse for not being able to answer anyone's questions or problems.  'I'm sorry, but I didn't have service while up there; I wish I could have helped you research the physical properties of bamboo and how it's use in 3rd World countries is relevant to green design in the USA today!'  It's just nice sometimes not having to resist the urge to check your email or text log.  Sometimes we need a break, whether we know it or not.  But sometimes this can be a hindrance and the need for electronic contact is necessary.  So, Daddy and I took a trip down to the McDonald's to begin our day in Tiny Town, USA.

Why do we go to McDonald's, you may ask?  Well, if you were not living under a rock during 2010 you will recall that all McDonald's now have free Wi-Fi.  We both took our book bags loaded down with computers, calculators, and password logs to spend the morning working on whatever things we both needed to work on.

The McDonald's in Tiny Town is located inside the Chevron station.  [See picture above].  This was my view all morning; people pumping their gas on this side of town.  McDonald's is situated on the edge of town, with 2 red lights separating it from the other side of Tiny Town.

One thing I love about tiny towns in the south is God's presence.  Of the 3 groups of people that inhabited the booth behind me during our stay, 2 of them were discussing God's desire to hear you praying and calling out to Him.  It's refreshing to hear this as I do not hear this often in Humongous City, USA.

Our set up for the morning.  Nothing helps work along like a good old McDonald's sausage biscuit and Diet Coke [topped off with real Coke, of course!].  Or in Daddy's case, a Diet Dr. Pepper. 

On Dad's trip back from the restroom [inside the Chevron, of course!] he noticed all of the Daniel Moore paintings that covered the walls.  'It's not every McDonald's that you walk in that you see original Daniel Moore paintings everywhere.'  [Daniel Moore is a popular athletic artist of southern schools.]

As you can see, I fit in quite nicely with my hounds-tooth flip-flops.  Almost everyone out at the pumps was wearing some form of Alabama gear.  The others were wearing the high school's colors.  I heard talk of the game all morning...

We headed home around 1:00, but not before a quick stop at 'The Pig'!  I wanted to stop and get saccharin before heading home; it is so hard to find in Texas.  Thank goodness for the Piggly Wiggly!

Granddaddy got a new toy-a pea sheller!  I have been informed that it also shells beans.  I reckon on those days it's called a bean sheller.

A farmer & an engineer.  Can you tell which one is which?!  I can tell you that it doesn't get much better than this for either one of them!  GDaddy had it on to show us how it worked and Daddy walked right over and stuck his nose down in it 'wanting to see how it worked'.  It's times such as these that we are thankful that he wears his hair in a bald cut.  Otherwise it might have grabbed him by the hair, stripped him of his clothes, and dumped him out naked in the catching bucket!

I know a few people who would die to have this weather at home!  [If they don't die from the weather at home first!]  It was rather comfortable [or so we the visitors thought] and you could hear us all saying things like, 'It's pretty nice here in the shade', 'That cool breeze feels good', and 'So this is what under 100 degrees feels like!'.  GMother & GDaddy did not quite agree.

The perfect wishbone of a limb had broken and lodged itself up in a tree.  I, of course, needed to help.  Dad's side broke off but it was before I made my wish :-(  But he had to finish getting it down for me-so who really won?

View from the front yard-I think that's cotton growing in the fields right now?

I'm so glad we  were able to get this picture.  If you look real close, you can see GDaddy's mo-hawk that I fashioned just before the picture.  He has the world's craziest hair; he has to wear hairspray in it for it to lay down and stay down.  That being said, with the amount of hairspray that is always covering it, it will do anything you want it to.  And there it will stay!

Remember the football game I mentioned earlier?  Well wouldn't you know we ended up at the game for some good ole Alabama high school football where the whole town comes out to support their beloved team.  My GUncle came over for grilled hamburgers and then we headed out for what turned out to be a really good game.  Along the path into the stadium we found some paw prints that belonged to my cousin...

...and cousins on the field.  It's so crazy to me when we go up there.  It really is like we are related to half of the people in the whole county.  Growing up in Louisiana we had zero cousins or relatives in the entire state!  It seemed like all of my friends were related to at least one other person at our school or even one of our rivals and we [the kids] always kinda felt left out.  Thankfully, though, we had some really good church friends who we love and still see more than we would if they were related to us!

Once again, I was thankful to have my hounds-tooth on!  I just wish I had worn some up top so people didn't have to look down at my feet to know where I hold my allegiance.

Mom was really glad that we were able to go to the game; she saw many an old high school friend.  My mom's first cousin happened to save us seat directly behind 2 of her classmates [that had married after high school] and their son was one of the main ball carriers all night long.  It was fun knowing a couple of players on the field!

Like I said, the game was a good one!  We left with a W [24-7, I think. Ha!]  and all the town was happy.  Thus ends a day in Tiny Town, USA.  Well, we still had a 25+ minute plus ride back to the house where we heard my mom say over and over how long and uphill her 1 hour and 15 minute bus ride was everyday for 12 years.  She says 'It was uphill both ways,' and I say, 'At least you weren't pushing the bus up all those hills!' 

driving on a prayer

I am writing from the back bench of what feels like an unusually empty and spacious suburban.  Not empty spacious like I've never riden in a suburban, no, but empty spacious like there are people missing from the ranks-2 to be exact-as well as about 18 more bags, packages, and hamburger buns. But it is empty for the 14+ hour trips that our family is known for. With 3 kids in the family and grandparents that have lived 7+ hours away our whole existence we know how to travel well.

Do not be fooled, though. There is a difference between 'travels well' and 'travels lite'. And lite we do not. Traveling well implies that you can do the following 3 things well: 1) remember to pack enough movies that will interest at least 2 passengers at the same time, 2) remember to pack your electronic diaper bag, forgetting not the car chargers especially, 3) can hold your bladder for periods of time that under other circumstances would be humanly impossible. And don't forget BOTH of your pillows or your fleece blanket. Traveling lite implies that you take up no more space than the seat you occupy and have only one bag checked in the cargo. I really wouldn't know. I don't even travel lite when going to the mailbox. It does get out of control sometimes though. Like the time Emily and I had wrapped Christmas presents escaping the back cargo at stop signs, Andrew with severe pneumonia on the bench in front of us, and frozen carrot cake at our feet. I'm surprised Dad hasn't thought to charge us for extra bags like the airlines. Although being the engineer that he is he has probably already has thought of that but secretly enjoys the puzzle of trying to fit everything and everyone in the car.

As the oldest of the 3 I have rarely gotten the privilege of the entire back half of the Burb to myself. (Well actually, Mom is asleep on the bench in front of me as I write). Many times in recent years I have been in school or working and couldn't make the trip. It's kinda nice, though! I am sitting here with blog in hand, my current read The Blind Side, and 80's hit Girls Just Wanna Have Fun playing on TV. All MY choices.

What I like about these trips with the parents is that I have zero responsibility. Zero. It's not that I wouldn't take any, but they don't give me any. All I am responsible for is waking up and putting on my shoes for bathroom breaks and making it to the McDonald's cashier before Mom closes out. Oh, and be sure to be in the car before Dad puts the car in reverse after said stops. Other than that we the kids are duty free. And to tell you the truth I don't mind it one bit.

Unfortunately this is not a happy or planned trip. My Dad's first cousin, Janice, passed away unexpectedly on Monday morning. So, we packed up our stuff and left Tuesday night for our journey to the deep South. Oh how I miss the deep South. Most of our family will be there; it will be good to see them. If only it were under different circumstances. Please pray for the family; she leaves behind a mother, husband, daughter, 3 grandkids, and countless other family that loved her. BUT! There is good news! We as Christians are comforted knowing that she is in a much better place singing praises to our Lord. And sing she could here on this earth. I can only imagine what she sounds like in Heaven!

it rained, but when will it pour?

It has been one dry, hot summer.  Actually, let me try that again....

Here in southern Texas, it has been one arid, bone-dry, moistureless, barren, dusty, dirty, lifeless summer.  There, that actually sounds like it might do the summer justice. 

I think I heard on the news that we broke a record for the number of successive days that the temperature has been over 100 degrees.  That was over a week ago and I haven't seen anything below 103 yet.

I took my car to the dealership about 2 weeks ago for routine tire rotation and oil change.  Apparently there is no good time to take your car in because there is always a wait.  That particular Wednesday was no exception.  After waiting for a little over an hour I was relieved when they finally called me.  "I will be able to make my lunch date, after all," I thought to myself as I trekked to the counter to collect my keys.  No such luck.  As I approached my Customer Service Rep, he said this:  

'Your windshield wipers have rotted out and are not clearing your windshield properly.  It will only cost about $25.00 to replace them.  Would you like to go ahead and have that done today?'

Seriously?!  I honestly do not know how he kept a straight face when asking me that.  'Are you kidding me?'  I wanted to ask, 'When was the last time you needed your wipers, Mr.?!  I'm sure they are dried out.  They are BORED!!!'  I refrained from yelling and calmly replied, 'Do you think that will make it rain? Because if so, go ahead.  But if the chances of it raining are raised none, I don't think that will be necessary.'  And after all that I still had to wait 20 more minutes for my car to be finished. 


It did rain last Wednesday night.  I can honestly say these 3 things: 1) I cannot remember the last time I saw rain before last week, 2) we have not seen any signs of possible rain since, and 3) I cannot remember being so ecstatic to see the rain (perhaps maybe a time or two when it meant no marching band practice...8 years ago!)

Last Sunday (3 days before the blessed event), my pastor started out his message by saying 2 things: 1) the fall is coming, cooler days are ahead and 2) one day it will rain.  You know how when you do something ambitious like wash your car, inside and out, and have it looking all glorious and shiny?  Only to have it rain THE NEXT DAY?!  Yeah, well, that doesn't work here anymore in south Texas.  I have tried.  My dad has tried.  My neighbors have tried.  Their neighbors and cousins have tried (I don't have any cousins in Texas or they would have tried, too, I am sure).

I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing on Wednesday when the sky outside started showing signs of a storm.  From talking with others, I can safely guarantee that at least 90% of the population could tell you the same.  It would be like asking the infamous question: 'Where were you when Kennedy was shot?'  Everyone knows where they were.

My sister and I were sitting in my bedroom floor; it was about 6:30.  She had her computer out, as she usually does, working on what I can only assume was her Thesis project.  I had my computer, supplies, and X-Acto out, as I usually do, working on what I can only assume was any number of projects that I always have going on.  Or 7.  We were talking about boys or favorite lotions or something in between when we both heard a very strange, unfamiliar sound coming from outside.  We stopped what we were doing (thankfully I wasn't holding my X-Acto at that moment) and looked at each other.  Could that be?!  No, surely not.  But, IT IS, isn't it?

We both turned tentatively, afraid that even looking out the window might scare it away, and, lo and behold, there they were.  Dark clouds.  Dark, lustrous clouds with the faint promise of rain.  And then there was the wind.  Strong, extra blowy wind that we thought for sure would knock our mailbox over.  We stared outside in disbelief for about 5 minutes.  It was getting dark outside and had our mom been home, she would have gotten on to us for not closing the blinds.  But she wasn't home and we wanted to enjoy what could be the last rain we get in 3 months.

And rain it did.  It poured!  I don't know how long it rained for but it was like music to our ears and every 5 minutes or so I would turn around just to make sure it was still actually happening.  As if someone would try to trick me by turning a noise machine on or something.  It was a good rain.

And that was the last time it rained here.  I assume it will be the last rain at least until October.  It's now been 5 full, successive days with no rain.  It was like a teaser for the grass, trees, animals, people, rivers, the animals at the zoo, and so on.  I think the concrete even needed watering and was let down after only 45 minutes of rain.  But every little bit helps; even if we do only get it once every 13 weeks.

And like Ben said, one day, it will rain again.  One day.

warning: this could change your life

'He [Jesus] gave his life to free us from every kind of sin, to cleanse us, and to make us his very own people, totally committed to doing what is right.' -Titus 2:14

I have an excuse.

It's this:



If you've never read it, I suggest you find a copy and clear out a week of time to hibernate as you will not be able to put it down.  Yes, it is that good.  Throughout the past couple of years, many of my friends have told me 'You HAVE to read this book.'  Taking their advice I tried.

Twice.

Each time I got no further than the 28 page Prologue.  Many reasons contributed to my inability to get past this section; the main reason being Grad school.  I also HATED how the first part read-it was depressing, non-attention grabbing, and I could not see anything great about the book.  [I have since then been told that it was me who had the problem, not the Prologue.  Ha!]

That changed 3 weeks ago, however, when I tired of people telling me that it should be the very next book that I read.  I sat down with the determination of a stubborn two-year-old and intended to push through and read it in it's entirety whether I liked it or not.

And I didn't like it.

Not at first, anyways.  I literally got sick to my stomach when I read the last sentence of the Prologue, wanting to throw it across the room.  But, remembering my determination, I picked it back up the next day and from that point on I was unable to tear it away from my hands until I made it through to the back cover.  Somewhere between that last sentence of the Prologue and the beginning of Chapter 1 I got lost in identifying too closely with the main character Angel.

WHY THIS BOOK SPOKE TO ME:
While I have never worked in prostitution, I have often felt unworthy and unclean, just as Angel does in the book.  There are many other self-destructive habits that can lead to similar emotional, mental, and physical abuse.

I grew up thinking and believing that perfect was the only way to be.  Only way to be accepted.  Only way to be worth anything.  Perfect was expected.  I also grew up hearing and knowing that God forgives and forgets, no exceptions.  Of course He can-He's God!  But how can that same love and acceptance transcend into a human-especially a man-who is willing to accept me for who I am, the things that I have done, and a past that I so desperately want to forget?  I am not perfect.  Never have been.  Never will be.

There is a particular scene in the book where Michael finds Angel scrubbing her skin so hard-to rid it of dirt, or sin-that she literally rubs large sores all over her body.  I have wanted to do that on countless occasions.  It is so hard to grasp the concept that God requires nothing so physically painful to receive His forgiveness.  Emotionally and mentally, sure, but nothing that will hurt our physical person.

WHY I KNOW THIS BOOK WILL SPEAK TO YOU:
Everyone, guy or girl, has been in Angel's shoes; everyone enters into this world as a sinner.  Your story may not be as drastic or your past not seem as 'bad' as Angel's but the Bible tells us that God sees no difference between thinking of sinning and acting upon that thought.  Sin is not measured in degrees.

'For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.'  -Romans 3:23

You may also relate to the book's supporting actor, Michael.  A believer and God-fearing man, his love for and dependency on God is evident from the very first time he enters the scene.  Perhaps you are a Michael: a messed up background, pursued by the love of Christ through another individual, and seeking to pass that love and truth to the person(s) God has placed in your path.

While Michael is still a human like you and me-struggling daily with trusting completely in the Lord's plan-he is a beautiful testimony [through God's help and strength] of what Christ's love looks like:

Paul leaned forward.  "You're the one who still doesn't understand, Amanda [Sarah].  There's something I didn't even comprehend until now because I was too stubborn and jealous and proud.... Michael chose you.  With all your past, with all your frailties, with everything.  He knew from the beginning where you came from, and it didn't make a difference to him.  There were plenty of women back home who would have jumped at the chance to marry him.  Sweet, sensible virgin girls from God-fearing families.  He never fell in love with any of them.  He took one look at you, and he knew.  Right from the beginning.  You.  No one else.  He told me all that, but I thought it was sex.  Now I know it wasn't.  It was something else."

"A crazy accident-"

"I think it's because he knew how much you needed him."

-Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers, pgs 451-452

That passage is so beautiful; I don't think that it bodes any explanation.

Now, before I blog on and on about the reasons why you should be the next person to read this phenomenal book and I get a phone call from my sister telling me that my last blog post was good but toooooooo long for enjoyment, I will leave you with this one, final thought:

If you haven't already done so, go read it now; guy or girl.  And, if you have read it, pass your copy on to someone who 1) you think needs to read it, 2) you think would enjoy reading it, or 3) is a human being.

'Come, let us return to the Lord; for he has torn, that he may heal us; he has stricken, and he will bind us up.' -Hosea 6:1

vow15. Psalm 139:13-17

Psalm 139:13-17 (NIV)

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.  

16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!

I suppose I should post the entire Psalm in this verse-of-the-week post; it is that good.  But if I were to do that I suppose I would have to post the entire Book of Psalms because it too is that good.  Of course then I would feel that I need to post the entire Bible because, well, you get the idea!  [Sounds like an 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie' Complex. Ha!]

But seriously, this is a beautiful Psalm that-like all of the others-will speak to you and touch you in so many different ways.  No matter your circumstance or lifestance, God will speak through it if you open your heart to hear.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

Do you know that you are wonderful?  And wonderfully made at that?  Sometimes I wonder about myself and unfortunately too quick to forget that God made me this way for a specific reason and purpose.  This is not to say that we can let ourselves go; we must do our best with the means and circumstances that God has placed around us.  God makes no mistakes.

16b all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

This says to me that God does have the green dotted path that I have always longed to have guiding my way. Ever since I saw that Fidelity commercial I have looked for my very own green line.  Having my path drawn out and laid before me seems like it would be a whole lot easier than letting me make my own decisions and mistakes, going where I think-ahem, more like where I want-it to go.

But we are not given a dotted green line neatly labeled with life's pit-stops of heartache, disappointment, and screw ups.   If we did, we would rarely have reason to need Him; we have to rely on and trust in Him, seeking His guidance and grace all the time.

Where are you right now?  If you're searching for a green dotted line I'm here to tell you that it will NOT BE SHOWING UP.  Unfortunately I have looked for it on more than one occasion.

Seek Him and He will make those invisible green dotted paths straight [Proverbs 3:6]

vow14. Romans 8:11

Romans 8:11 (NIV)

¹¹ And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.

The Holy Spirit is God's promise that we as believers will have eternal life with Him in Glory.  The Spirit is now within us by faith, and by faith we are certain to live with Christ forever.  Thank you, Lord, for this gift!!!

slippery slopes of vegetable oil

I started blogging almost 11 months ago.  At the time, I had 0 confidence in my ability to compose and keep it up and no idea as to what I would actually write about.  The word 'Blogging' sounded cool to me and I wanted to become a Blogger so that I could, you guessed it, Blog.  My first 'Writer's Block' moment happened not four seconds after creating my url when I had to name the thing.  'Ellen's Blog' ?!  'Thoughts from ellen'? 'Smellin' Ellen'?!  I wanted it to be perfect.  I got so frustrated that I was mid closing my computer when my friend, Caroline [who bragged about how fun blogging was and got me into this mess in the first place], said to me in her 1st Grade teacher voice, 'Now, let's think about this, Ellen.  What are you going to write about?'

'Stuff; you know.  Like...stuff.'

'Ok, so you're going to write about stuff.  That's good; that's a start.  What is it about this stuff that you want to share?'

'Isn't it supposed to be about my life...and stuff like that?'

'It doesn't have to be but yours can, yes.  Ok, so what about this stuff in your life?'

'It's crazy.  All of it.  Craziness, crazies, crazes...it all follows me.  I live a crazy life.'

And thus, the blog 'crazy little thing called life...' was born.  [Caroline graciously let me keep this title even after I realized that I was next to guilty of plagiarism: her blog was titled 'This little thing called life...'.  Check her out!  She is a precious and beautiful friend :)]

That said, I did start this blog to share a little bit about my life and the mayhem always seems to follow me.

Like yesterday.

Yesterday was not a day that I care to relive again.  It wasn't a bad day.  But it wasn't a good day, either.  One where all of the little things that could go wrong, lost, damaged, or forgotten, did.

By the time I make it to work every morning, I have my foundation and one eyelid eye shadowed; shoes, keys, belt [sometimes], hairbrush and a CD in one hand; McDonald's large diet coke, tube of mascara, eyeliner, breakfast bar, and sunglasses in the other; sweater, socks, prescriptions, extra shoes, snacks, phone, and phone charger falling out of my Mary Poppins size purse.  That's on a good day.

But like I said, yesterday was not a good day.

I made it to work yesterday with all but two of those things: prescription and phone.  No biggie.  Yeah, right!  I knew it was going to be a bad day when I realized that I didn't have the medicine to keep my acid reflux under control.  Unlike what is probably the most common form of reflux in adults [heart burn], mine works quite the opposite.  Go figure.  Whereas heart burn reacts to what you did eat, mine reacts to what I don't eat.  Very annoying when trying to diet and lose weight.  Anyways, more on that topic later.  All you need to know for the purpose of this story is this: when I miss a day of medicine you better watch out.  By the time my brain gets the message that I'm hungry it's usually too late and I will be out of commission and remaining stationary until I get food or medicine in me.  It hurts really bad.

Back to yesterday: when I finally gave up searching my purse for the medicine I remembered that I had yet to turn my phone on silent.  I guess you could argue that, yes, it was in fact on silent because I LEFT IT AT THE HOUSE!  Unwilling to accept this fact, I borrowed a coworker's phone and went out to my car to call it and search.  I called it three times, just in case.  Nope, no phone.  Well, it's not the end of the world.

Just before lunch my manager called me and said, 'Ellen, Ricardo just called me to pass a message along: the trunk of your car is open.'  As I said 'Thank you,' and hung up the phone I heard a clap of thunder and the first drops of rain hitting my window.  Aside from a 45 minute sprinkle on Sunday, we have not had rain since Spring Break.  Well, it's raining!?  Good, right?!  Even if my trunk IS open?!

Towards the end of the day, I emailed my mom to let her know that I would not be going straight home; I was going to a friend's house but wouldn't stay too late as I didn't want to be driving the long distance home late at night and without a cell phone.  I left the office at 5:46.  Said friend's apartment is about 16 miles from my office.  On a normal day, in 5:00 traffic, this would take about 24 minutes.  But not yesterday.

I got about 7 minutes into my drive, noticed that the highway was backed up a little bit more than usual but decided against taking the exit to my right.  About 0.03 miles and 27 minutes later I was rethinking that decision.  We were like sitting ducks on the most crowded and tight highway ever built.  And we continued to sit.

And sit.

At this time I would normally pull out my phone, turn on my GPS and see what was going on and what alternate routes there may be.  Oh, wait.   I didn't bring my phone!  We continued to sit.

And sit.

I sang thru my favorite 'Glee' songs 4 times through and tired of singing.  I tended to my cuticles.  I prayed.  A lot.  I journaled for a bit.  I avoided rear-view mirror eye-contact with Whacko Man in front of me who continued to wave, smile, and give me 'the eyes'  with the aid of both his rear- and side-view mirrors for the duration of the flight.

I checked the radio stations, hoping to find someone with answers and thought, 'Man, this must be how my grandparents felt when stuck in traffic...no phone to call and catch up with friends [or let the people you are meeting know you may never get there]; no Aussie Jane to dictate where you need to go.'  Every radio station supplied me with updates: I did not like what I heard.  'The highway has been closed....there has been an accident...they are directing everyone off the highway...all entrance ramps are closed.'  I even thought I heard one reporter say, 'There has been a vegetable oil spill.'

I moved 2.1 miles in the next 2 hours.

Keep in mind the acid reflux issue.  I was very hungry, it had been 7+ hours since I had last eaten, I had not taken my medicine, and I had no way out.  Thankfully I found a Fiber One bar in the gallows of my purse.  If it weren't for that I'm not sure that I would be here tonight.

I pulled into the parking garage at 8:16.

The news reported later that night that there was an accident on the highway at 5:51 p.m. involving an 18-wheeler and a vegetable oil spill.  Well, at least I'm not hearing things.

If in the future I ever find myself playing 'Never Have I Ever' and it comes up that someone has never had their day ruined by vegetable oil, well, I guess I will then lose.