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Click here to read the original post at ConversionDiary.com

Why can’t I ever just get the flu? I don’t go to the doctor because they’ve ALWAYS told me, “No, it’s not X, it’s a virus.” Well, this time I was SURE it was the flu. It came on quickly, it hit me hard, and I had a fever, which never happens. Normal temp for me is 97 degrees or below (about 36 C in the rest of the world) and I was running 99.

What did the doctor tell me? “It’s a flu-like virus.” Dang it. I guess it’s good that I avoid the real pneumonia, streptococcus, plague, and flu, but good grief.


I didn’t write that for pity. I wanted to explain my blogging absence, I’ll be back on schedule after today. Thanks for sticking with me through this and I’m sorry I didn’t have any new material for you!

This is also why I posted this a little early.


My sisters are two of my favorite people on Earth. Not only are they my sisters, but they find the COOLEST musicians. I have decidedly poor taste in music, so I trust them and my parents to find music for me. Well, they’ve done it again:

Boyce Avenue – I don’t know if this is their modus operandi (I’ve been watching a lot of NCIS while in the sick bed. I didn’t say I had good TV taste, either), but they cleaned up Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream,” which made me grin.

I used Ms. Perry’s song about losing her virginity (in a sci-fi fit of celestial tumbling) in our first TOB class as an example of the world making sex look like a rite of passage. It was wonderful to listen to this young man turn the song into something much more meaningful. Take a listen, all the way to the end so you can see some other videos. Hint, he changed the first words to “I think you’re pretty without any make-up on.” Swoon.


God blessed me with two wonderful parents who don’t mind a daughter who can’t do anything for herself for 48+ hours. My mom works from home, so she was with me throughout my plaguepisode as I reverted to infant-hood. She brought me water (oh my gosh, the amounts of water I’ve had this week…), soup, tissues, wet head cloths, medicine, and motherly forehead touching like only a mother can.

My daddy kept up with me through text and email, confirming that I was alive and trying to make me laugh. He usually doesn’t have to try to make me laugh, but I think the flu messed with my brain. Every word I read or heard was Iroquois to me.
I’m blessed to have such loving parents whom I Love back very much.
The 21st century is in want of a sarcasm font. What if, when g-chatting or IMing (if people still do that), we surround our sarcasm with ^these^ to represent the obligatory eyebrow lift when you just can’t hold back the smile at your own facetiousness. Thoughts?
Calling all college students (Katie, pass this on):

The lovely Ms. Rebecca has done it again. She raked up the life knowledge she’s accumulated since graduating from college and compiled a spiritual survival guide for college ladies (and gentlemen, if you don’t mind stretching a few of the points).

If you have a daughter, niece, granddaughter, sister, or friend who is in college and may need some friendly advice from a young woman who lives a fashion forward life while remaining chaste, modest, and in God’s back pocket, pass on this link.

Life is Not a Romantic Comedy

This was one of those weeks it was tough to remember that Emil Daddy and Joan Marie are really gone. I don’t want to violate my great uncle’s privacy by posting a picture of him with his wife. However, here is a very old (and very cute) picture of my dear grandfather and the grandmother I never met but for whom I was named:
I got her dimples too. These two are so gosh darn cute.