So I just realized that last week I was supposed to announce the winner of the Strangerville Live raffle. But I didn't do it because lazy. And distracted. And also sometime around Wednesday I started thinking I had black lung. Then I thought it was just pneumonia. Then I thought maybe it was Plague. Then I binge-watched Bob Ross on Netflix and forgot I was sick until just right now.

So now I'm wondering if I have Swine Flu. And also I just realized that I've been wearing the same shirt for 48 straight hours. Like, legit, I've slept in this thing even. And I didn't notice until just right now. And this is especially sad because I've been to work in the last 48 hours. Twice. And also I can't totally promise that I'm going to change by tomorrow. I can promise that I plan to sleep in it tonight.

I got distracted again. See? It's very confusing to be me.

The point is, I finally drew names from the raffle. I actually wrote the names down on little pieces of paper, put them in a hat, and drew one. And I just realized right now that I covered my eyes when I did this, I guess so no one would think I was cheating. Which seems a little silly now considering that I'm home alone and nobody could see me anyway.

Well, except for The Perfects, who I found out recently can see directly into every single window that faces east in my house. I discovered this, or rather re-discovered this, on my annual awkward obligatory visit to their front porch to deliver banana bread the week before Christmas. And as I looked over at my little home I suddenly had flashbacks to all 367 days in 2016 during which I walked through my house

A. Completely naked.

B. Wearing something I only wear when I think nobody can see me.

C. No, B is not what you think.


E. Why am I making a list?

The point is, I shut my eyes to do the drawing in case The Perfects were watching through their window and now I kind of hope they were because then they can back me up when I say that I totally didn't cheat when I drew names.

And in my totally-honest name-drawing, I pulled the following name: Helen J.

So Helen, shoot me an email and I'll give you the top-secret instructions to get in the door on February 23.

In other news, I visited my 86-year-old grandma last weekend in California and this is a real conversation we had:

Grandma: I can't believe it's already time for you to go.

Eli: I know. It's always so hard to say goodbye to you.

Grandma: And you didn't even ask me if I wanted to go clubbin'.

Eli: Yes I did. Last night at 8:00 I asked you if you wanted to hit the clubs and you picked up your crotchet needles and walked out of the room and went to bed.

Grandma: Did that really happen?

Eli: Yes.

Grandma: Oh dear. I guess I just don't hear things like I used to.

Eli: I'll say it louder next time.

Grandma: Ok. And then we can hit the clubs aaaaaaall night. Well, until 9:30. Or 8:30. Do they have any drive-through clubs where you don't have to get dressed up or get out of the car?

And then she mimicked dancing in a sitting position.

My grandma is everyone's spirit animal.

~It Just Gets Stranger