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The Nebraska (Lutheran) District Educator’s conference is happening now, and I attended the Thursday afternoon sessions. ‘Yay!’ for not being at work for a little bit! ‘Booooooo’ for my truck having some serious hysterics on the way into Lincoln. I called Lloyd while I was on the road and said, “If I am not at the keynote, you drive out here and find me.” He called around for a shop where we could take it, we met there, and he drove me to the conference. (We’ll know what’s wrong with it tomorrow.)

We came in a little late for the keynote (by none other than Mark Rockenbach, an old college friend who did a great job), so we sat in the back.

I discovered something about Lloyd: Not only is he a Movie Talker, he is a Conference Talker – the lowest form of humanity in my opinion. We had a good argument about it in the car, as he thinks that he is well within his rights since we sat in the back. We’ve decided to hash it out here.

Lauren (Point): People who talk during conferences should be shot in the head. It is insanely rude and they always think they are talking quietly enough that no one notices. Guess what? People do notice, and I am always sitting by the talkers and get grouped into the offended party’s disapproving glances. I desperately want to mouth, “I’m not talking! I’m not a Conference Talker! Do you have a gun?”

Your counterpoint, sir?

Lloyd (Counterpoint): Shhhhhh… I’m watching the Cardinals now.

Lauren: I win.

We all know I’m a slob, right? That I can go a loooooooong time living with something that is messy? Wait, let’s amend that: I can go a looooooong time without noticing that something is messy.

Several weeks ago, I actually noticed that my truck was pretty dirty. It was actually so bad that it looked like the paint was peeling off the hood and the roof. No problem though – I just developed a handy little blind spot that just stopped seeing it. There were even a couple of times I thought, “Maybe I should go through a car wash”, but then I would forget as soon as I was driving.

Sunday, though, I was driving home from Wal*Mart and it was such a pretty day, I thought that it would be perfect car-washing weather. I wasn’t even going to wuss out and do the automatic wash – I’d wash it with the machine gun sprayer.

Oh. My. Goodness.

I was so mad that I didn’t have my camera for some ‘before’ pictures. What I thought was a little peeling paint was a solid layer of months-old, sun-baked tree sap and bird poop. It was so gross!!! The stuff on the hood washed off with just the soapy wand, but for the roof I had to take an old shirt from the inside of the truck (it’s really messy inside, too) and scrub and scrub and scrub and scrub that junk off. It was awful! I’d scrub a little spot truly clean and then swipe at a larger area – the whole while balanced on the edge of the truck bed – then feed the machine more quarters to rinse and start again. I didn’t get every single spot, and I regret that, because there is no way I’m going back up there.

Note to self: Go to the automatic car wash more often, and stop parking under trees.