It is highly unusual for me to already have done something before I go to church.

Other than get dressed and brush my teeth, of course.

But today was a special kind of Sunday because Shane and I went and played a show at the very un-rock star hour of 9:00 am. And, oh wait, I must let you know that a facebook invite just went out to let everyone know that the paper shanes are playing at Lickety Split in Philly this Wednesday night. Good to know. Again, so glad Shane let’s me be in his band.

And let’s me use a staple gun.

It was pretty awesome, actually. Because yesterday a friend named Pat who knows a lot about recording sound was helping to make Shane’s studio better by putting in sound panels. For a while there, I was helping out a lot by talking to Shane’s family upstairs, playing the piano, or just watching the guys work, but eventually there was much gun stapling going on and Shane suggested I try it. And Pat laughed. And then proceeded to not hand me the gun. Until later, when Shane suggested I try it again, and I have to admit that the little burst of air when I pulled the trigger was a surprise, but definitely one of the better surprises that I have experienced in my life as of late.

And I really liked stapling.

With a gun.

I felt like I could be the next poster girl for the WE CAN DO IT! campaign. Because we can. Or at least I can. If what we’re still talking about is using a staple gun, that is.

Oh, but I was, at one point, talking about playing in Wilmington early this morning. We played at a 5k on the river front and we got paid money to do it. Those gigs are pretty nice, actually. The ones that pay. Not necessarily the ones that are really early and outside when it’s kind of cold and you’re kind of tired. Although, this one turned out to be quite fun. We played whatever we wanted for about forty minutes while people ran or walked and generally felt proud of themselves. Which they should, because, good job for walking or running like that when goodness knows it’s easier to just sleep in on a sunday morning.

But sleeping in does not usually afford such a feeling of accomplishment, I’d bet. And if it does, then you might need to lift your goals a little higher.

And also, I ate a banana.

And wore rain boots.

Which I only mention because those are two things that I don’t normally do. So, noteworthy, right? Or maybe those are the kinds of sentences that shouldn’t make it past editing. But rain boots–I love them. They are British. Or seasonal. Or interesting. Or all of the above and I wish I had a yellow pair. Then life would finally be perfect. Because it’s that easy, right? And bananas. Well, they are yellow, I suppose, but other than that, I don’t like them all that much and so they do not warrant their own paragraph. Not that I limit myself to writing solely about things that I like– like the way you can click on some of those good statuses on Facebook.

And I will end with this: a new friend told me something right out of the blue the other night. He said that married people are creepy. At which point I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I used to be one of them.  So was I creepy, but am no longer? I suppose, according to his idea, I have decidedly un-creepified myself. But still, he doesn’t know this.  And I didn’t want to lie, but I also don’t feel the need to open up that can of worms with just anybody, just anywhere. So I said that I think married people are people. Period.  Some are creepy, some are not, and left it at that.

But the interesting thing is that I like how I keep meeting new people who know nothing about what I’ve been through or the fact that, according to at least one person, I used to be a “creepy person.”

And yes, I need those people in my life who know my story like it’s a book they’ve read time and time again; but still, it’s nice to see how my life keeps moving forward and the past is just a tinier and tinier dot on the horizon that once loomed so large, that once was all I could see, that once surrounded me like the kind of air that is not air at all, it left me choking so badly.