On a snowy Sabbath

Yes, gentle readers, you read that right. Snowy Sabbath. It is March 30th and it is snowing. There is nothing so painful and grotesque as waking up early on a Sunday to find that the day has been marred by forzen precipitation. If it were November or December, we would think, "Oh, look! A lovely winter blanket for the Sabbath! How beautiful!" But as it is neither of those months, the reigning thoughts (and I did talk to the roomates and we all agree) were more along the lines of "Oh, crap!" and "No no no no no!" and "I am NOT going out in this". It's bad enough having church at 8:30 in the morning, but then throw snow on top of it? Totally rude.
If the combination of early church and snow weren't enough, we find out that it was NOT fast Sunday, and therefore could have eaten breakfast. So we were starving.
And then...THEN... we go to Relief Society and discover that I once again have to conduct the music and come up with a 5 minute music thing...all in preparation for another chastity lesson. (All groan in agony). Don't get me wrong, chastity lessons can be very useful and I am in total accordance with the Law of Chastity and the principles that go along with it. It's just that it has been a very long time since I have recieved some new insights from one of these lessons. And this one was more like a Young Women's lesson for beehives. We even said the Young Women theme before he started. I felt delightfully ...13. Not so delightful. I know that the Bishop is an inspired man called of God, but sometimes I wish he would see us as adults and not teenagers.
But enough complaining. I promised I would make you laugh, did I not? Let me see what I can come up with...
Ah ha, here's something. I got my car washed and waxed yesterday and it snowed. ...hmmm, not funny, huh? Let me try again. Our kitchen has been redone but is not done yet so we can't really make food and have eaten out three times this week. ...ok, that's not so funny either. One more time and then I' m done. One of my favorite purchases in the last two months was "The Worst Baby Name Book Ever" (no, I am not pregnant), and it gives all this horrible explanations for certain names. Today we will talk about the name Dallas. "Loosely translated, this name means 'place in which one rests' (i.e., a rest room!). A rest room. I suppose there are worse places you could name your son after, but none really come to mind right now." So sorry for all of you that wanted that name. And just for kicks and giggles, I'll embarrass myself. Becky: "Officially naming your kid a cute, child-like derivative of a serious adult name is a sure way to make sure she never grows up, never gets a job, and never moves out of your basement." Hey, I'm one for three. But then, I never lived in the basement. Dangit.
Happy Sunday!