Shopping Tips and Guidance by Mandy Claire

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," staring ahead at a 60-hour workweek ahead after an exhausting Thanksgiving holiday!  Forget being rested and refreshed. I'm trashed, and I still have three more loads of laundry to do.

Can't blame the kittens. Can't blame the daughters. Can't blame the elderly mother-in-law. Can't blame the spouse who had to work last night.

Only one person to blame. Me.

I have never learned how to say no.

When my mother-in-law asked to come here for Thanksgiving and make most of the food, I said okay. When The Spare said she would cook the rest, I said okay.

Except neither one of them lifted a finger to help clean up. And then there's the regular laundry, and the special queen-sized bed change. (How even the comforter got dirty I haven't a clue.) There was the obligatory entertaining needed to amuse the mother-in-law. Worries about Heir's health, which is tenuous. And I had to go to the doctor too. Sandwiched in between washing dishes. Pots. Pans. Plates. Silver. Because of course you have to use the good china on Thanksgiving, right?

All you young readers out there, start a trend.

1. If you don't invite someone for the holidays and they want to come, here's what you say: "Sorry, but I've been working really hard, and I want to rest."

2. If your kids or significant other are accustomed to lavish traditions, here's what you say: "We have to streamline here. I can't do it all. I can't even do half of it."

3. If someone offers to help you do it, don't believe them.

4. Look in the mirror and say, "No." Practice. Say it 1,000 times. Write it on a blackboard until you fill every space, like Bart Simpson.

No more. No more. No more.

The life you save may be your own. Just. Say. No.

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where every day is a holy day! We should rejoice and be glad in it!

It's certainly not my doing, but have you noticed that the gods aren't as bored lately as they used to be? Several of the commentees in my previous post made note of it. Greek deities, Roman deities, Norse deities, Celtic deities, even ancient Babylonian deities  --  all making a comeback! That's swell, don't you think?

Don't worry, though. We at "The Gods Are Bored" recognize that many, many gods and goddesses are still bored. They have been deprived of their praise and worship teams. Some of these deities are lost in the mists of time. Others are trying to mount brave fronts against missionaries from other faiths (won't name names). Alas, this is a sad state of affairs.

We at "The Gods Are Bored" will not rest until every unclaimed deity has a follower! Yes, it is a noble ambition. Thank you for noticing.

Everyone has his or her own view on divinity. Mine, needless to say, is pretty liberal. I must say, however, that I have trouble wrapping myself around the idea of sex between deities and humans. Why would a deity, male or female, want to do it with a human? Aren't They so much better than us? I mean, it's not like interracial dating, or marrying someone outside your faith. You're getting it on with a god!

(It need not be pointed out that certain popular religions cannot claim exemption from this celestial activity.)

As your government-sanctioned health teacher has taught you, unprotected sex often leads to unwanted pregnancies. Which begs another question. Why would a deity not take precautions to avoid a half-god, half-human offspring? Maybe some have learned this lesson the hard way and now behave more carefully while under the boardwalk.

I'm pretty sure I've never had sex with a god or an alien. I would remember, wouldn't I?

This merry musing arises from my reading of The Lightning Thief, a novel that proposes that Zeus, Poseidon, Athena et. al. are still up to their old tricks, still shagging morals and producing half-blood offspring. This is great fodder for fiction, and will probably be a ripping good movie as well, but for me it doesn't hold as much water as its predecessors, Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Both LOTR and HP are set in alternate worlds where all sorts of mayhem can be posited to be plausible. In Lightning Thief, there's a camp for demigods on Long Island near Montauk.

One would think Zeus would pick better neighbors than Billy Joel.

Back to our thesis. There's ample evidence that deities have knocked up mortals. My question is, why? Mortals, even the best of them, don't have a clue how to raise a demi-deity. What happens? These god-sired hybrids end up experiencing violent deaths. Say what you want about taking away the sins of the world, but I doubt if that was what Jesus was thinking about while being crucified.

From the human perspective, I can see how one would be motivated to bang a god or goddess. They're higher beings -- they must be great in the sack. At the same time, I would caution a little restraint.  Nix that afternoon with Zeus. Go take a polar plunge and find some diverting amusement. Cedar Point springs to mind. There you can ride about five roller coasters, up and down at dizzying speeds, and not have to spend the rest of your life looking after a child who will at best seem to have delusions of grandeur, and at worst start a new religion that will imperil even more bored gods.

In closing, we at "The Gods Are Bored" would encourage you to avoid sexual encounters with higher beings. The affairs are fleeting and the consequences huge. Find yourself a nice respectable mate, one who will do all the dishes after a big Thanksgiving feast. Never met anyone like that? Me neither. No reason not to keep trying. Gods don't do dishes either.

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Sex, drugs, and rock and roll! Yeaaaahhhh.

Can I be candid? Of the above list, the only thing I would take right now is a roll. With butter and perhaps some jam.

Every year on the night before Thanksgiving, the local churches put together an "ecumenical" service for the season. Meaning that the service alternates between churches, and every year a different pastor leads the bash. All are welcome, so long as they're Christian, Muslim, or Jewish. It's rather like the National Day of Prayer. Go ahead and pray if you're a follower of the busy god. As for the bored gods, they're not even in the balcony.

Don't bored gods deserve a wink and a nod on Thanksgiving as well? If you think so, please leave an "ecumenical" comment, lavishing kindness on the bored god or goddess of your choice.

You can praise the busy god too, if you like. Gotta wonder why you would want to, though. He has plenty of attention by half.

May your travels be safe!

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," offering a full slate of services to discarded deities, including career counseling, emergency praise and worship, and our ever-popular "follower finder" option! Please contact us for all of your deity needs! Our operators are standing by to take your call.

About ten days ago, my friend Nettle left a message on her Facebook inquiring about a ride to Pennsauken. She said she needed to go to an animal shelter there to see a dog that was up for adoption.

Thus began a faerie-guided adventure.

Turns out (no coincidences with the fae, remember) that the shelter Nettle wanted to go to was the one where I volunteer. Sunday last, I picked Nettle up at the El stop in my town, and she, Spare and I rode over to the shelter.

Nettle tried several dogs on for size. There was "Badger," a white showy sort, brimming with personality and vigor ... and highly sought after by other potential adoptive families. Then there was "Cara." Shy. Great big, scared eyes. Cross between a pug and a chihuahua -- so, essentially the size of a cat.

I rooted for "Cara" from the beginning, because she seemed like the kind of dog who could languish in a shelter for months because it was difficult to get a read on her personality. I just had a feeling, though, that "Cara" was a good fit for Nettle.

I suppose the faeries felt the same way, because last Wednesday Nettle adopted "Cara," and yesterday Spare and I helped Nettle take "Cara" to her new home -- Philadelphia!

"Cara's" history indicates that she was transported north from South Carolina. Talk about culture shock! From Dixie to Philly in just five months ... via scenic Pennsauken, New Jersey!

After we finished filling out the paperwork on "Cara," we took her to the car for her journey out of Jersey and across the bridge to the City of Buzzardly Love. That little charmer just sat on Nettle's lap and gazed out the window with an adorable curiosity. Then she got tired and settled in for a snooze. From the first moment "Cara" seemed totally at home with her new person.

I tried to give "Cara" a crash course on living in Philly, but she didn't seem to understand when I told her to say "Boooooooooo" and "Dallas sucks," and the ever-popular "Yankees suck."

The sun was setting when we drove up Market Street past Drexel University. I said to "Cara": "Well, doggie, this is symbolic, you see. The sun is setting on your previous life, and tomorrow it will rise on a whole new era for you."

Sure enough, this morning it is perfectly beautiful here in the Delaware Valley. Not a cloud in the sky!

I feel blessed to have helped a dog find a home. This was a new experience for me. All of my experience of the Almost Home shelter is kitten-fostering. Bring them home, pamper them, take them back. It was refreshing to see how careful the staff at Almost Home is about choosing good owners for deserving pets. My kittens must all get good families as well.

Speaking of kittens. This is where the faeries really went into overdrive.

While I was waiting for Nettle to finalize her adoption of "Cara," I had to ask. I just had to ask.

Any "hissie spitties" in the cat room?

Oh yes. Four weeks old. And the staff was worried that they might get sick from being around the other cats. Would I take them?

So in addition to bringing Nettle's dog home to Philly yesterday, Spare and I took possession of two semi-tame, fluffy kittens named Reba and Ramsey. The idea is to keep them away from the sick cats until they're eight weeks old, which will be just about ... Yuletide.

I'm leaving it up to the faeries to alert the Yule elves that two kittens will be ready for delivery on December 24.

Is it any wonder that Spare and I broke our pact not to mention "that holiday" and drove home from Philly yesterday singing festive songs of a certain season?

What a happy day! Love is in the air.

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Now it's official. I'm dancing faster than I can. I'm Ginger, and Fred just went on crank. How's that for a multi-century analogy?

Tonight I stayed at school until almost 6:00. There's this program our school has called 21st Century Initiative. It's chock-a-block with federal funding which no one quite understands how to disburse. For instance, one evening this week another teacher just showed up on my doorstep and said I was "on the team," and a student had stayed after school to spend three hours in my company.

That student is a wonderful person and the very model of what a student should be. Getting paid to help him get into college -- and understand the work when he gets there? -- yeah. I'll do that.

This evening the student and I sent out some requests for information to colleges in Baltimore and Washington, DC. Asking colleges for information is rather like using a copy machine. No two web sites are the same. I guess they do that to keep spammers out. Student and I had to re-input every bit of information on every site.

There's one thing all these colleges have in common, though. Every one of them has a special little box to check if you are Hispanic.

Each time student and I came to that little box, we laughed. He is, you see, Hispanic.

He wants to be a writer. I don't know why I would thank the bored gods for dumping him into my lap, but I think this partnership was meant to be.

I think I'm going to encourage him to start a blog.

What else is going on in the Annals of Anne?

Well, Decibel the Parrot got hold of my middle finger and tried to sever it from my hand. He ground away, down to the bone, and only gave up when Spare screamed at him. What an adorable pet! Everyone should own a parrot.

Staying after school to help Student is one matter. Listening to the loquacious Mr. Bigwand and his chipper wife every Wednesday night in the "alternate route" teacher program is another. For some reason known only to him, he called on me last night. He pointed in my face and said, "How are you and I different?"

Oh, was it ever on the tip of my tongue to say, "I'm human!"

But instead I pulled out the tried-and-true. "I'm from Appalachia," I told him.

Which sent him off on another long-winded diatribe about how my formative experiences go into the classroom with me. And they do, of course. I didn't need him to tell me that ... over and over again.

Then, during a break, he blundered by me and said, "By the way, lovely part of the world." As if he has traveled the length and breadth of Appalachia, weighed it in the balance, and found it satisfactory.

So there's my "teacher." A guy who can sum up Appalachia in half a breath by saying, "Lovely part of the world."

I was tempted to show the guy a lovely part of my anatomy. But I need the grade. Gee, he's one swell instructor! Where's that evaluation form?

Saturday I have school from 8:30 until 1:30. All of this is keeping me so young!