First of all, you guys, I discovered my new ringtone on YouTube last night. It’s the chorus of this amazing song that I never knew existed but which has changed my life for the better and is now my personal theme song as well:
This weekend was the 17th annual Women are Wonderful in Warren.
The event reminds me of what they used to call in the church a “ladies’ day.” Women in the church I went to weren’t allowed to go to business meetings or, like, have opinions about how the church should run and things.
Because of the vaginas and all.
But they were allowed to have “ladies days.” They’d do crafts, and have lunch, and get someone lined up to come talk to them about something that had to do with church in one way or another. Often, it was the wife of an elder or someone else powerful in another congregation.
I’m being kind of a bitch.
Anyhow, Women are Wonderful reminds me of that. Only not offensive. But it’s cute. It’s a ladies-only event, except for any men who might be presenting.
Like this guy.
And this one
That first guy’s name is Malachi McCabe. And with that name I was surprised to find that he was giving a presentation on home technology. It’s completely prejudicial, but we live around a lot of Amish folk, and when I hear the name Malachi I just assume things I probably shouldn’t. “Who’s Alexa,” he spent Saturday asking the women of Warren County. He came into the lunch room at one point and I felt uncomfortable for him. I’m not even particularly looking for a fella and even I was like “I sense the presence of a man.” The estrogen in the room physically swelled and followed him, like the tide follows the moon, as he paraded himself over to the table to get a water and then fled.
He felt it too.
It was awkward.
The second one, City of Warren Chief of Police Brandon Deppen, didn’t even come to lunch. Because he already knew what was gonna happen. That uniform on? Forget it. I fear that if he’d walked into the lunch room he’d have been lunch.
That place was chock-a-block full of cougar on Saturday, y’all.
Saucer of milk, table five?
Anyhow. Here’s a fun fact. See that door that’s closed behind his screen? Maybe you can’t tell it’s a door. It looks like a wall. But the event is held in the Jefferson Defrees Family Center which, like most of the structures in downtown Warren, is as old as as the hills. It’s a beatiful old building. Don’t get me wrong. If I could move into an ancient building I would. I love the intricacy, the heaviness of everything. Everything is so serious and thick. Nothing was mass-produced. Everything was created with purpose, and attention. You could chop off a newel post and use it to survive the zombie apcalypse if you needed to. There’s just something in an old building that you don’t get in a brand spanking new one.
Anyhow, behind his screen is one of those folding doors that sort of becomes a wall, for separating two rooms that can also be combined when the space is needed. Directly behind that wall was a presenter talking about becoming a Christian romance author.
Shit you not, you guys, I had just been in that room and the author was talking about how her publisher wouldn’t even accept the word “scumbag” in a manuscript and how to write romance according to formula. How to be all lovey-dovey and what not. And as she’s talking, from Deppen’s room, you can hear gunshots and screaming on a 911 call coming from his Powerpoint.
All of the Christian romance women were clutching their pearls like “oh my goodness.”
It was spectacular.
Deppen was presenting on a citizen’s ideal response to an active shooter situation. I’m excited about it. I’m going to do a series on it this week.
All the ladies who went to his presentation were also excited about it.
Including this one.
That’s Maris Hanby. She’s from Union City, about an hour away from Warren, and she and her daughter and daughter-in-laws have been coming to Women are Wonderful for all 17 years it’s been running. She told Deppen what a great presentation he had given. Her husband was a cop, she said, and she knew a lot of what he was saying but not all of it.
Also I think she had herself a little crushy crush. Just because, when I talked to her later she talked about Deppen. Like, a lot. Like, more than she talked about Deppen’s presentation. Or any of the other things that existed.
Anyhow, she was a cool lady. She told a doctor once, she said, who was presenting at Women are Wonderful, that breast augmentation didn’t need to be surgical. “Just tie some fishing line around each nipple, she said she told him, tie a fish to the other end, and toss the fish over your shoulder. Bam.”
Sassy. I dig it, you guys.
I wanna be like that when I grow up.
Let’s see…what else?
I’m pretty sure I worked with this lady at Betts but I can’t remember.
She won a prize. These people were handing them out. The one in the pink vest is Melinda. She’s the director of the JDFC this year, but she’s been a member for a long time of Zonta of Warren, which co-produces the event each year, so she wasn’t new to the event at all.
Other than that, it was pretty par for the course. There was aromatherapy, dog care, small home improvements and repairs, wine and cheese pairing (fun fact – you can sign up for like four or five classes throughout the day and my mom chose the wine one twice, so it clearly runs in the family). Many of the classes return each year. Some are new. And it’s like a vendor event in a way, so many of the classes send you home with something you made. Soap. Essential Oils.
A strategy to survive an active shooter event and a new, healthy paranoia in every social situation you find yourself until your last day on earth.
Lunch was salad again. Attendance was good, Melinda said. In line with previous years. The event sells out pretty quickly once it’s advertised. Like I said, Maris and her crew been representin’ for years at WaW so.
It’s kind of a big deal.
Last but certainty not least, I need to tell you about Scissors.
So the JDFC is now a preschool, as well as offices for child advocacy, and the site of a small gym. So the rooms where most of the classes and workshops are held are classrooms the rest of the week.
Which means pets.
When I was a kid, a class pet wasn’t a real thing. I’m beyond happy that kids today get to have actual class pets.
This is the class pet I found in the room where women were learning to paint primitive crafty-crafts and what not.
I mean, I think he’s some sort of rabbit. I can’t entirely tell. But I love that he’s sleeping in a container labeled “scissors.” I have no idea what he is or what his actual name is, but for ever and ever, until my last day on Earth, this thing’s name is Scissors.
And I love it.