Blog yo!

Blog

 

https://www.google.com/search?q=azlatic.1331@blogger.com

 

 

 

 

AmyZlatic

Good evening Blog

Blog

 

https://www.google.com/search?q=azlatic.1331@blogger.com

 

 

AmyZlatic

Blog

 

 

 

https://bit.ly/35SI1HD

 

 

 

 

 

Amy

 

Hiya Blog

 

 

https://bit.ly/2MWvCEd

 

 

 

Amy Zlatic

Moving Day

Well, friends, it's moving day. The boxes are packed, the truck is loaded, the new place is spit-shined and polished up, waiting for me to deposit all my crap.

After nearly ten years here at blogger, I have secured my own URL. There are tons of reasons for this and I won't bore you, but I do hope you like it. I'm not entirely set on the design yet, but since I'm a cheapskate skinflint and I'm not a web developer, I'm a little stuck with my options right now. Eh, it'll do the trick for awhile and I can always update later. The main thing is that I did it, I pulled the trigger and I jumped in and I threw something at the wall to see if it will stick. How's that for mixing metaphors?

I am definitely nervous about this, because it's incredibly personal. I mean more personal than all the usual stuff I share here with you in that it's my name. It is 100% attached to me, not just some random Amy in St. Louis. If someone googles my name, that site will come up. Eventually, you know, when google figures out that I'm out here. While I realize that yes, this is a good thing and that I do need to self promote for my writing and that millions of people do this all the time, my heart is wary. What if I put myself out there for everyone to see, and... (fill in the blank with any number of personal disasters)? That's it, really. That's the crux. You don't even need to fill in the blank. What if I put myself out there?

Ohmygosh I put myself out there.

Part of me wants to celebrate. The other part of me wants to vomit. That's pretty normal, right?

There's not much there yet. I still have to unpack. Come visit, won't you? (My new address is my first and last name, for those of you who know me know me. The rest of you...well, just leave a comment and I might forward you on.)

As the bell tolls

I just had a management meeting where a topic of discussion was the Angelus bell not ringing properly at noon each day. This meeting is made up of four monks and five lay people, and it's held in the rather dimly-lit monastery board room at a heavy wooden table at 3:15 p.m. on Mondays. This is a very serious meeting in a very serious location. (I'm just setting the stage here, people.) We discuss any number of things, including student activities, maintenance issues, accidents, upcoming events, recaps of past events, and ideas for improvements. I usually pick up a task or two in these meetings; today I volunteered to be the Sign Czar. (Because I am stupid.) I never know what's going to come up at these meetings, and usually something makes me laugh, despite this being a very serious meeting in a very serious location. Today it was the Angelus bell. Only because I got to hear a monk describe the misbehaving bell much like how people experiencing car troubles talk to their mechanics.

"It bongs and then it doesn't. I mean, it's supposed to bong three times, but it stops after the first bong. And then it's supposed to peal. After three sets of the bongs. And it's not pealing. It's not swinging. The pealing is when the bell swings back and forth, as opposed to being hit by the hammer for the bong. Well, the whole sequence is supposed to go bong bong bong, rest, bong bong bong, rest, bong bong bong, rest, swinger."

I gave up trying to be an adult, burst out laughing, and laid my head on my notebook. The principal, sitting next to me, was only slightly more successful at maintaining his composure, but I lost it again when I saw that he had written "bongs and swingers" at the top of his notebook. He told me later that when he retires after selling his sitcom idea for millions of dollars, he knows that the title of this particular episode will be "Bongs and Swingers." I told him that's the title of chapter 52 in my best-selling book.

The principal just walked past my office window, stopped, backed up, and mouthed "Bong bong bong" to me through the glass. And then the church bell started ringing. Of course.

Highlights. And laundry.

A volleyball match, a football game, Mass, laundry, and a new writin' machine. That was today.

Highlights:

• Zoe made an incredible return that caused me to scream like a caveman. I don't know where that came from. My screaming, not her play. She plays awesome. M was pretty pleased, too. We took two of the three sets and the match. All three of us were pretty pumped after that.
• Sitting in the football stadium of my alma mater on a gorgeous fall day watching my adorable nephew play. And then getting to see him after the game. That part was really the highlight.
• The little boy in the pew in front of us at Mass was out of control. I had a choice: be completely annoyed or sympathize with his grandmother who was desperately trying to get him to behave and failing miserably. He was a cute kid, and when he launched his Nerf rocket about halfway through Mass I gave up trying to be annoyed. A few minutes later he scooted under the pew and was hanging out next to me, while his poor grandma tried to figure first where he want and then how to get him back. He went back under the pew. I tried to suppress the giggles. I failed.
• Laundry. No highlights. Because laundry.
• A new writin' machine. Yep. M and I went to look at the laptops today and then I went back and bought one. He told me it's my anniversary/Christmas/birthday present. I am negotiating that it's anniversary and Christmas, but no way is it birthday. There's a statue of limitations on gift credit. Since it's our anniversary next week and Christmas is only two months away, I'll go ahead and credit the writin' machine to those. And also from here on out the official gift for 18 year anniversaries is MacBook. Not turquoise (traditional) or porcelain (modern).