(I am not happy with gandi's timeout mechanism, sigh. Just lost most of an entry when I "saved" it.)

I'd started a blog post about spending a little time last night looking for someone I knew from Pittsburgh days, finding that person (and her daughters who are roughly the same age as our oldest two)… and then bla-bla-ing about my excuses for why I probably wasn't going to contact her after all. Yadda.

And then I spent a paragraph or two talking about wading once again into the nest o' papers and coming across an old check register. This seems to have been from Mr Mo's old Heart Federal account. The first entry for the register pages that I have was for May 1, 1982, and it went more and more sporadically until early May 1983, at which point I think we got rid of it. Among the jogs to memory provided: we used to share a Sprint long-distance account with one of my old BYU roommates, and I used to do work for the Pittsburgh Oratorio Society (mostly volunteer, but apparently perhaps some paid work as well). Mr Mo and I joined the POS in fall 1982, and I certainly remember discovering what an untoward combination woolen choir robes + overheated store interior + pregnancy can be (a Christmas concert at the downtown Pittsburgh Kaufman's department store… a nurse watching saw me turn red, then white, then disappear — I managed to sit down as I passed out.)

Fun times.

Also waded a bit more into my past religious excesses. "Earnest" does not begin to describe my sincere desires for overcoming faults and imperfections… especially in such a rarified location as the Language Training Mission. I've had to decipher some of my notes that I wrote in faulty Deseret (easier to write than to read, that's for sure)! One such:

Dammit — I am being ridiculously emotional about not being allowed to call home tonight — basically because it’s my time of the month — and because I’m constipated, AND because I detest not having my own way and because I am peeved at Sister H. “because” she had to be so damned self-righteous — even though it’s easy for her to say, “Oh you have to have permission to call home”— though she will be breaking the rules tomorrow because she gets to “accidentally” see her parents tomorrow. Petty, I know — damn this period ~ “monthly marauder.”

…In retrospect, I was being far too easy on Sister H, under the circumstances, and hopefully I ended up getting to call my folks anyway. (I think the real issue was that I'd tried on Christmas Day and couldn't get through.) Stupid regimentation!

Of the many, many experiences I had while at the LTM, my body remembers the chronic constipation most of all. Ghastly. Things got better pretty much instantly as soon as I left the LTM for The Mission Field. No surprises there.

Mr Mo and I will likely go off to play snooker in a few minutes, as is our wont to do most Sunday late afternoons in Berlin. It is a heavily overcast and rainy day — it has been dark for much of it. I think I will have to drink my ampoule of 100K units of vitamin D shortly to better withstand the winter.

Time for another short foray into paperdom (paper-dumb) before we head off to the pool hall.