Why I am destined to die alone.

Sarah, the ultimate puppet master . . .

Panic in the WC

Apparently when you are a 45 year old female working at a software company full of men, you lose all respect for the sanctity of bathroom privacy and feel the need to the intimacy of your experience with the other patrons.

This may include farting, gushing, dripping, blowing, hacking, gurgling, blasting, squeaking, sneezing, groaning, slapping, moaning, and whimpering.

I do not jest.

Your only hope is to sit quietly in your stall to avoid detection, or bolting out the door before you're forced to make eye contact with the perpetrator.

Oh, and also I'd stay away from the dishes that were recently washed in the bathroom sink.

Happy Birthday Elvis!

Now I know that everyone is expecting an Elvis post by the one and only Haras, especially considering it's his B-Day and all. (I'm surprised you didn't know that) But I think you'll also be surprised at what I DO know, and what I have learned from living with a true believer.

And by "true believer" I mean someone who stays up late at night reading conspiracy theories about how Elvis is still alive. By the way, my particular belief lies with the theory of his identical twin, Jessie, not actually being a still born but that their parents hid him away and later Elvis and Jessie switched places, thereby accounting for some rapid weight gain, and the misspelling of Elvis' middle name on his grave stone.

But that's just me.

Another thing I've learned about Elvis from Haras is the mesmerizing hold that a set of Elvis luggage can have on a person. I mean this goes beyond normal wants and desires, it's like the set has a personality of it's own, and every time you come within it's presence you're have no choice but to bow down to the magnitude of it all.

Plus it's super-cute.

Then we come to the random bits of trivial that not every layman would know. Things like Elvis impersonators from Jerusalem can be decidedly more attractive than you'd expect.

Having two life size Elvis cutouts in the windows of your condo can propel you into mini-celebrity status within your ward.

It is dangerous to question the necessity of throwing a birthday part for Elvis when face to face with a "true believer".

And, one thing that I've felt the reality of deeply, if you blab about your roommate being a "true believer" expect that your secret love of Star Trek will not be a secret for long. And also that people will know that when your hair is greasy enough, it looks wet.

But, if all the "true believers" are right, Elvis is now 72, and living happily on the top floor of Graceland. May he live long and prosper.