what i shouted at npr today

On my way to the gym this morning, I was listening to NPR, as I am wont to do in the before-light hours so that I can be better prepared for the day and any possible discussions of news.

It also helps me plan my outfit for the day—that weather report is so useful.

This morning, NPR reported on the dismal progress of the supercommittee, the bipartisan group that is supposed to be hammering out a deal to cut the country's deficit by more than a trillion dollars over the next 10 years. Their deadline is Thanksgiving, and David Wellna said something pithy and very NPR: "So that means they only need to find, oh, about $133 billion a day in possible cuts until the deadline."

And before I could stop myself, I was yelling, "I hate you, supercommittee! You aren't super at all!"

Only the streetlights on Harrison in Wheaton heard me, and they didn't even flicker at my Angry Citizen outburst.

I kept going; I clearly needed an outlet for this rage and the streetlights didn't seem to mind.

"No, not super at all! What have you been doing since August? Trying to come up with superhero nicknames for each other? Designing your outfits?

"Here's the deal: I've taken over designing your outfits, and NONE of you get capes. And you all have to wear your underwear on the outside of your pants. And your pants will be seven sizes too large in in your least favorite color.

"Also, they will be made of the itchiest wool ever created, and they will smell like sheep. Wet sheep.

"How super do you feel in that, huh, supercommittee?"

As I stopped at the four-way stop sign at President, I tried to calm myself down. Tried to see things from their perspective.

"Look, I know I don't know what it's like in Washington. I've been there a couple of times, and it seems pretty and historic, but no, I've never had to find a trillion dollars in the country's proverbial couch cushions.

"I'm sure this has been hard on you. All that political posturing couldn't have been good for you, probably put quite a strain on your back, actually.

"But come on, everybody said that you'd have to reach a deal because if you didn't, immediate budget cuts to defense and other programs would go into effect. Now, though, you're all talking about how if Congress put that trigger in place, it can just as easily remove that trigger.

"HOW IS THAT FAIR? What was the point of the trigger then?!?! What was the point of you, supercommitte?!?"

Obviously, I didn't maintain my cool head.

I couldn't help myself. This morning, I was channeling a bit of Julia Sugarbaker from Designing Women on my way to the gym.

Like in this video {ooh, a video! Such fun on the blog here today!}. Thanks to her, I sometimes wish I spoke with a Southern accent.

reason #2 for blogging: free internet

I also thought it’d be a good idea to blog because back in August 2008 when I set up this thing, I had free Internet.  By free I mean I was stealing from a neighbor.  And by neighbor I mean the church across the street.

Yes, I stole from THE CHURCH.

Lord, have mercy.

Unsecured Wifi leads to one of those “maybe it's not so bad” justifications for what seems like a slight sin.  It's not like I was embezzling, for Pete's sake; I was simply borrowing bits of communication.  That's all.  And I would think that the church would want me to keep up with my friends and family.

But yes, I am aware of the eighth commandment.

I just didn't feel like adhering to it when I figured out that Our Lady of Internet Generosity across the street didn't require a password.  It began with quick email checks and quickly devolved into setting up a blog.

In between, I'd like to point out that I used the stolen Interwebs to set up automatic withdrawals to support two of my friends who are missionaries.

{It's always nice when stories of sin have a spot of redemptive hope.}

So back when I had free (except for the cost of stealing on my soul) Internet, a blog seemed do-able.  I could update daily!  From the comfort of my bed, aka the only place in my apartment where the Internet worked!  What a plan!

Then I moved.

No more sweet and generous church across the street.

And more importantly:  I had a mortgage.

I entered what I now fondly refer to as The Time I Freaked Out about Every Penny Because I'd Just Written the Biggest Check in My Life and Signed a Bajillion Papers about How I WOULD NOT DEFAULT ON MY MORTGAGE.

Coming up with catchy names for eras is not a strength of mine.

But I am really good at Freaking Out about Every Penny.  That's pretty much a lifelong trait, not just a post-mortgage trait.  The mortgage simply heightened it, and things like creating and sticking to a budget help control it.

Suddenly—in that late summer 2008—if it wasn't building equity, I wasn't paying for it.*

{* Notable exceptions included:  food, new furniture, books, my cell phone bill, and my vacation plans.}

The Internet, wonderfully connective as it is, did not make it through the first round of budget cuts.  And when its line item disappeared, this blog disappeared.

{Please note:  I do not blame the church and how it made me so reliant on its free Internet for my inability to blog.  Like many in America right now, I'm blaming the mortgage crisis for my problems.}