Monday, June 21, 2010

At least we've only been in exile 40 days, not 40 years

I know it has been awhile. Believe me when I say, with absolute certainty, there is a very good reason for it.

Basically--Monty Python started directing my life, so things don't make too much sense anymore.

FOR EXAMPLE: Do you know what I have been thinking about a lot lately? FIRE MARSHALLS.

The subject of a Fire Marshall is so random it could be a Family Guy joke. Usually, in the past, when I have thought of Fire Marshalls, I've thought of them as people who were loveably zealous about safety. At their most noble, they truly care about Saving Lives and Protect People from Dangerous Situations.

Of course, I wasn't completely idealistic. I figured there were a few lazy people who just signed papers and stayed in the buracracy. Or, you know, Fire Marshall Bill.


LET ME SHOW YA SOMETHIN!

But alas, those days of careless bliss could not last forever.

A little over a month ago, I suddenly got a call from Jennie, our community liason.

Jennie: Hey, Amanda. Listen, the Fire Marshall just came in and said that we can't stay in the church. We have to be out by tonight.

Me: Um...buhWHU?

The rest of the day was spent in a hazy blur of panic, trying to find somewhere to live, and blinding rage.

APPARENTLY, the plan that was sent off to the state and gotten approved by the State Fire Marshall and worked on was NOT OK with the Local Fire Marshall. No, now for people to live in the church, we have to have Fire Doors and Special Handrails and Sprinklers Everywhere and asdlaf;wlgihawet#$YW$E%U#@%&@45y

(BTW, the building is like solid concrete. In case anyone was wondering.)

SO! Eight people who work at a church and a HOME FOR WOMEN have now been displaced from their homes. Oh irony. Please. You slay me with your great ironicness.

I'm tired as hell and cranky and frustrated and have been living in a suspended sort-of reality for like a month. And my mental image of a fire marshal has gone from this:

I will save kittens!

To this:

I think it's time to say goodbye to Prince A-Boo-Boo...

So THAT, good people, is why I have been non communicative. Or, if we have been communicating, why I've been a jerk to you--I've been sleeping on a mattress set up on a floor in a giant room with seven other people. It does not. make. me. happy.

Lots of wonderful things have happened as well! But for now, this definitely makes the best blog post.

Also, I deeply hope "Prince Ali" is now stuck in your head. You're welcome.