Clocks and pens

I've noticed that our house like five different clocks in it. This got me to thinking, "when have I ever purchased a clock?" I've can't remember any time that I have ever bought a clock, and I've never been given a clock as a gift, so that only leads me to one conclusion -- that over the course of my life, I have evidently stolen a handful of clocks.

We have a number of pens, too, but at least those usually tell you where you stole them from. It will have the name of the hotel or church or wherever written on the side of them. That's smart. It gives you a good indication of who has the right to bust into your house and steal their writing materials back from you.

Speaking of pens, I remember when my church back in Florida went to order a whole slew of new pens for the sanctuary. We wanted to have the church's name written on the side of the pens, and have the writing and the ink inside of the pen be the color "kelly green." Unfortunately, the stupid pen-making company didn't follow the directions very well, and we got a huge order of pens with the words "kelly green" written on the side. I thought it was kind of funny, but I guess it's not quite as funny when it's all written out. Whatever. This blog is free, so stop complaining...

The Magic Triangle and Mayonnaise Jars

I go to Wal-Mart a lot. There is always one nearby, and they have basically everything in the world one could want and/or need. Sometimes, I have to buy a whole bunch of stuff, but my favorite is the quick trips for one to three items. Anytime I buy exactly three items, I call this "The Magic Triangle." I always wonder to myself if anyone else in the history of Wal-Mart purchasing has bought these exact three items. Sure, when I have to get milk, bread, and eggs, I'm sure there's not a lot of "magic" there and tons of other patrons have built this specific triangle, but what about last night's purchase? The not-so-common baby carrots, contact solution, and Reese's Peanut Butter cups triangle? Maybe I'm the first ever....

On an unrelated note, I helped Brandi's grandmother move this weekend. It is very odd and slightly uncomfortable to be perusing through someone else's attic for several hours on end. It kind of ramps up the relationship to an artificial level, and I found myself making some negative comments to myself about the belongings that had been kept. I mean, who needs this many umbrellas and old mayonnaise jars? I started to become irritated, but then I realized that Brandi's grandmother would probably be confused by my attic "crap" too. There is a lot of old ethernet cables, piles of baby clothes, and an original Nintendo. I guess she'd rather have the old mayonnaise jars then play Legend of Zelda. Whatever.