6.29.2005
Robyn's airbrush tan review
I got airbrush tanning done. I think I prefer the cancer-causing tanning beds. When the airbrush spray started, it was cold and startling. When I was getting hosed down, all I could think of was being in a prison camp and being sprayed down by the guards. Don't ask me why that was the image that came to mind! My legs are a bit streaky, but I think overall it looks ok. Ehhhhh. I probably won't do it again.
6.28.2005
Do you think...
the Pastor will be able to talk to me? To whisper things in my ear, laying next to me in bed, or will he have to go into another room and e-mail, text or instant message me?
purple dishwasher monkey
to-do list before the Pastor comes home
1. must clean entire house
2. manicure
3. pedicure
4. flat iron hair
5. pick out the pick-up-the-Pastor-at-the-airport outfit
6. get rid of any small dogs, wine bottles, empty Starbucks cups, incriminating receipts... just kidding
7. tan
8. get skin to clear up
9. lose 20 pounds
10. mow yard... Right! I've never mowed a yard in my life. Like I'm going to start now!
11. finish packing for me, three kids and Pastor to go on two week vacation... geez we are going to need a semi for all the stuff we'll be schlepping cross-country
I LOVE to go to the airport. And I never just do a drive-by pick-up. I go inside. It's way more fun and dramatic to be there right as soon as someone gets off the plane. I also think it is completely entertaining to watch people at the airport. Better than cable t.v.! It's funny to observe "traveler stress" when you are not the one experiencing it! When I picked up the Pastor up at the airport on Christmas, I got to see an entire family sporting matching very ugly sweaters.
I was going to have a lovely meal prepared for the Pastor but he told me not to because he doesn't know if he'll be hungry. So I'm off the hook. He might be experiencing mexican food withdrawals, as he has spent 6 weeks of the summer in places with no mexican food. Can you believe people live where there are no mexican restaurants?
The other day Nathan told me I needed to eat, or it meant that I was anorexic. So I ate. Then later that same evening, he was explaining to me how my bottom was just a little bit fatter than the rest of my body. Thanks kid, now you know why I wasn't eating! ! !
It's probably pay-back. In the past week I've talked to the kid about sex, and explained to him what he should do if he ever gets lost in the woods (Boy Scout news story) or locked in a trunk (kids playing in trunk news story). Nothing like being a worst-case-scenario-Mom. I can't help it! I think it's way scarrier now than when he was little. When he was little, I could just watch him like a hawk. Now that he's bigger and independent, he has to be responsible for his own safety to a certain extent and that scares me. I'm trying to instill in him that if something does happen, he is a smart kid and the most important thing he can do is remain calm and use his head. And the second most important thing he can do is to never, ever ever tell a woman she has any fat on any part of her body.
1. must clean entire house
2. manicure
3. pedicure
4. flat iron hair
5. pick out the pick-up-the-Pastor-at-the-airport outfit
6. get rid of any small dogs, wine bottles, empty Starbucks cups, incriminating receipts... just kidding
7. tan
8. get skin to clear up
9. lose 20 pounds
10. mow yard... Right! I've never mowed a yard in my life. Like I'm going to start now!
11. finish packing for me, three kids and Pastor to go on two week vacation... geez we are going to need a semi for all the stuff we'll be schlepping cross-country
I LOVE to go to the airport. And I never just do a drive-by pick-up. I go inside. It's way more fun and dramatic to be there right as soon as someone gets off the plane. I also think it is completely entertaining to watch people at the airport. Better than cable t.v.! It's funny to observe "traveler stress" when you are not the one experiencing it! When I picked up the Pastor up at the airport on Christmas, I got to see an entire family sporting matching very ugly sweaters.
I was going to have a lovely meal prepared for the Pastor but he told me not to because he doesn't know if he'll be hungry. So I'm off the hook. He might be experiencing mexican food withdrawals, as he has spent 6 weeks of the summer in places with no mexican food. Can you believe people live where there are no mexican restaurants?
The other day Nathan told me I needed to eat, or it meant that I was anorexic. So I ate. Then later that same evening, he was explaining to me how my bottom was just a little bit fatter than the rest of my body. Thanks kid, now you know why I wasn't eating! ! !
It's probably pay-back. In the past week I've talked to the kid about sex, and explained to him what he should do if he ever gets lost in the woods (Boy Scout news story) or locked in a trunk (kids playing in trunk news story). Nothing like being a worst-case-scenario-Mom. I can't help it! I think it's way scarrier now than when he was little. When he was little, I could just watch him like a hawk. Now that he's bigger and independent, he has to be responsible for his own safety to a certain extent and that scares me. I'm trying to instill in him that if something does happen, he is a smart kid and the most important thing he can do is remain calm and use his head. And the second most important thing he can do is to never, ever ever tell a woman she has any fat on any part of her body.
load up the fridge with Mountain Dew...
The Pastor's coming home! Going to be a wild night at the Parsonage tomorrow night!
6.27.2005
Disney Boycott
Oh my. What a weekend.
I DID get my eyebrows waxed. You know why? Because I am the type of girl who does what she says she is going to do!!!
Mom... are you a virgin?
In addition to many fun conversations I got to have this weekend, I got to have "the talk" with my son and explain what sex is.
It all started when he asked me what a virgin is. I told him a virgin is someone who has not had sex, then he asked me what sex is. Then he asked me if I am a virgin.
Before I said anything to Nate, I paused and thought back to how I first learned about sex. My chocolate-loving-friend (CLF) told me when we were hanging around the school playground before the start of 5th grade. So, I was glad for the opportunity to be a parent who openly and honestly talks to their kid.
So we had a nice little biology lesson. I was going to draw him a picture, of the female reproductive system, but he was afraid someone might see our picture (oh, by the way, we were in a restaurant) so I told him to think of Mickey Mouse. OK, I panicked! Mickey Mouse was the first thing that came to mind! I explained Mickey's head was like the Uterus and his ears were like the ovaries... (wouldn't you have liked to have been seated next to us???). I managed to mortify my child with sex education and I'm pretty sure he will never look at Mickey Mouse the same, nor will we be able to go back to Bahama Breeze.
I DID get my eyebrows waxed. You know why? Because I am the type of girl who does what she says she is going to do!!!
Mom... are you a virgin?
In addition to many fun conversations I got to have this weekend, I got to have "the talk" with my son and explain what sex is.
It all started when he asked me what a virgin is. I told him a virgin is someone who has not had sex, then he asked me what sex is. Then he asked me if I am a virgin.
Before I said anything to Nate, I paused and thought back to how I first learned about sex. My chocolate-loving-friend (CLF) told me when we were hanging around the school playground before the start of 5th grade. So, I was glad for the opportunity to be a parent who openly and honestly talks to their kid.
So we had a nice little biology lesson. I was going to draw him a picture, of the female reproductive system, but he was afraid someone might see our picture (oh, by the way, we were in a restaurant) so I told him to think of Mickey Mouse. OK, I panicked! Mickey Mouse was the first thing that came to mind! I explained Mickey's head was like the Uterus and his ears were like the ovaries... (wouldn't you have liked to have been seated next to us???). I managed to mortify my child with sex education and I'm pretty sure he will never look at Mickey Mouse the same, nor will we be able to go back to Bahama Breeze.
Whaddya know? He DOES read this thing!
got this e-mail from the Pastor, in response to a recent post:
How do I love thee, let me count ten (really it's twelve) of the ways:
1. I love you because you do hog all the covers, and all the bed and because your body provides an endless amount of body-heat. You truly heat up our lives.
2. I love you because you love your BDR and it makes me feel good that you do.
3. I love you because you do not read Joel Olsten books and because you seem to know why you shouldn't!
4. I love you for getting your Starbucks, and for not getting them and for your fascination with coffee and how different it is from me.
5. I love you for being a girlie-girl and doing your nails.
6. I love you for making meals that are delightful to our eyes and appetites and for giving us time around a shared family table together, as family!
7. I love you for quitting your job and braving the terrain of North Dakota and family members and with three kids in a small bus!
8. I love you for organizing stuff in the house.
9. I love that you take up the closets with all your cute clothes that you style in so well and look so cute in.
10. I love you because you have new-found independence and inter-dependence as you quit your job to spend the rest of your summer traveling, and lounging in the big giant bean bag chair.
11. I love the fact that you far surpass any low bar set by the former spouse, that you exceedingly surpass her quality as a wife.
12. I love the fact that you.... edited for content.
what a sweetie
How do I love thee, let me count ten (really it's twelve) of the ways:
1. I love you because you do hog all the covers, and all the bed and because your body provides an endless amount of body-heat. You truly heat up our lives.
2. I love you because you love your BDR and it makes me feel good that you do.
3. I love you because you do not read Joel Olsten books and because you seem to know why you shouldn't!
4. I love you for getting your Starbucks, and for not getting them and for your fascination with coffee and how different it is from me.
5. I love you for being a girlie-girl and doing your nails.
6. I love you for making meals that are delightful to our eyes and appetites and for giving us time around a shared family table together, as family!
7. I love you for quitting your job and braving the terrain of North Dakota and family members and with three kids in a small bus!
8. I love you for organizing stuff in the house.
9. I love that you take up the closets with all your cute clothes that you style in so well and look so cute in.
10. I love you because you have new-found independence and inter-dependence as you quit your job to spend the rest of your summer traveling, and lounging in the big giant bean bag chair.
11. I love the fact that you far surpass any low bar set by the former spouse, that you exceedingly surpass her quality as a wife.
12. I love the fact that you.... edited for content.
what a sweetie
6.24.2005
pass me my halo please!
Even though I am really cute today (did I mention I flat-ironed my hair again?), I am a bit down on myself... you know, due to my my inability to answer a clear question and my inability to read/hear express, clearly written replies. But I am a good wife! See!
1. Yes, I may hog the covers and the majority of the bed, but I supply an endless amount of body heat/warmth which will be nice in the winter and will help to reduce heating costs. So I am both warm AND thrifty!
2. I only asked for a big diamond engagement ring. I let him get me a plain band.
3. Another employee just asked me if I wanted to borrow his Joel Olsten book, and I wisely said no, knowing the Pastor wouldn't approve.
4. I've only been getting the small drinks at Starbucks.
5. I've not had a manicure or a pedicure since June 2nd!!!
6. The other night, even though the Pastor and kids weren't around, I still cooked.
7. I'm going to travel cross-country, with three children, to attend his family reunion.
8. Sure I may have lived in the house for 2 months and my stuff still isn't unpacked, but when I finally finish, it will be really, really organized.
9. I could have, but didn't, hog both closets in the bedroom. I left him enough room to put about half a dozen pairs of pants in one of them.
10. When he said quit your job, and spend the rest of the summer traveling and lounging in the giant bean bag chair, I obeyed.
11. Fortunately, the former Mrs. Pastor didn't set the bar very high.
12. Semi-annual clearance sale at Victoria's Secret. 'Nuf said.
1. Yes, I may hog the covers and the majority of the bed, but I supply an endless amount of body heat/warmth which will be nice in the winter and will help to reduce heating costs. So I am both warm AND thrifty!
2. I only asked for a big diamond engagement ring. I let him get me a plain band.
3. Another employee just asked me if I wanted to borrow his Joel Olsten book, and I wisely said no, knowing the Pastor wouldn't approve.
4. I've only been getting the small drinks at Starbucks.
5. I've not had a manicure or a pedicure since June 2nd!!!
6. The other night, even though the Pastor and kids weren't around, I still cooked.
7. I'm going to travel cross-country, with three children, to attend his family reunion.
8. Sure I may have lived in the house for 2 months and my stuff still isn't unpacked, but when I finally finish, it will be really, really organized.
9. I could have, but didn't, hog both closets in the bedroom. I left him enough room to put about half a dozen pairs of pants in one of them.
10. When he said quit your job, and spend the rest of the summer traveling and lounging in the giant bean bag chair, I obeyed.
11. Fortunately, the former Mrs. Pastor didn't set the bar very high.
12. Semi-annual clearance sale at Victoria's Secret. 'Nuf said.
green means go, yellow means slow and red means stop-stop-stop!
Have had some challenging communication with the Pastor the past several days. E-mailing and instant messaging is great in that you get to maintain access to people, but perhaps it's not always the best way to communicate about some things. But not to worry, now that we've figured out the source of our frustrating communication - my inability to answer a clear question and my inability to read/hear express, clearly written replies - we are in good shape.
The Pastor e-mailed me his dissertation yesterday. He e-mailed it to me, but then said "you shouldn't read this". Well, of course, I printed it off to read it. Silly me! I'm thinking if you don't want me to read it, then don't send it to me! Then, I thought something on my computer (and mind you, I had like 85 things open at the time) said 42 pages. So I replied back to him congratulations! Look at how much you've written! 42 pages! Wow! You are doing great! Then my printer got jammed, and I had too much open on my desktop and had to start closing things down and was getting annoyed with my computer. And apparently he had written more like 155 pages... and the conversation went downhill from there.
Then, this morning, instant messaging with the Pastor and his opening line was "yellow or green?" What??? And then he said oh nothing. I think what he probably meant was "is it safe to talk to you or should I proceed with caution". Well, that just made me feel even more "red".
Yes, Nathan soaked his feet in the foot spa again last night. He also helped me put together my outfit for today. Someone really needs to take the kid camping or fishing or something.
outfit of the day
I bought an Indian tunic thing in England. It's sheer and fitted and long and it's coral. Gold threads run through it diagonally and it has gold beadwork and sequins around the low v-neck. I have on a turquoise tank underneath it, and the tank is trimmed in lime green lace. (Nate was totally right about what tank top I should wear.) Then I have on my dark jeans from The Limited, and these really tall, strappy iridescent coral sandals. Someone probably wore these same sandals to their Prom. I got them on clearance for $7. This is my new favorite outfit. I just wish I wasn't so fat. I may have to wear it to the airport when I go to pick up the Pastor next week. That is, if he decides to come home.
My potential replacement is here interviewing today. I guess that's ok. I look really cute and fabulous today, so that helps.
I saw on the internet the other day that if I ate a "Monster Burger" and an order of fries at Hardee's/Carl's Jr. , it would have over 2,000 calories and I'd have to walk for four hours to burn it off. Or wash cars or something. Whatever! I am way too lazy to eat meat.
No big plans this weekend. Going to get my eyebrows waxed. They are out of control. Going to try to work on the house some more, try to get things in order before the Pastor comes home and we leave for our long drive across country with three small children.
The Pastor e-mailed me his dissertation yesterday. He e-mailed it to me, but then said "you shouldn't read this". Well, of course, I printed it off to read it. Silly me! I'm thinking if you don't want me to read it, then don't send it to me! Then, I thought something on my computer (and mind you, I had like 85 things open at the time) said 42 pages. So I replied back to him congratulations! Look at how much you've written! 42 pages! Wow! You are doing great! Then my printer got jammed, and I had too much open on my desktop and had to start closing things down and was getting annoyed with my computer. And apparently he had written more like 155 pages... and the conversation went downhill from there.
Then, this morning, instant messaging with the Pastor and his opening line was "yellow or green?" What??? And then he said oh nothing. I think what he probably meant was "is it safe to talk to you or should I proceed with caution". Well, that just made me feel even more "red".
Yes, Nathan soaked his feet in the foot spa again last night. He also helped me put together my outfit for today. Someone really needs to take the kid camping or fishing or something.
outfit of the day
I bought an Indian tunic thing in England. It's sheer and fitted and long and it's coral. Gold threads run through it diagonally and it has gold beadwork and sequins around the low v-neck. I have on a turquoise tank underneath it, and the tank is trimmed in lime green lace. (Nate was totally right about what tank top I should wear.) Then I have on my dark jeans from The Limited, and these really tall, strappy iridescent coral sandals. Someone probably wore these same sandals to their Prom. I got them on clearance for $7. This is my new favorite outfit. I just wish I wasn't so fat. I may have to wear it to the airport when I go to pick up the Pastor next week. That is, if he decides to come home.
My potential replacement is here interviewing today. I guess that's ok. I look really cute and fabulous today, so that helps.
I saw on the internet the other day that if I ate a "Monster Burger" and an order of fries at Hardee's/Carl's Jr. , it would have over 2,000 calories and I'd have to walk for four hours to burn it off. Or wash cars or something. Whatever! I am way too lazy to eat meat.
No big plans this weekend. Going to get my eyebrows waxed. They are out of control. Going to try to work on the house some more, try to get things in order before the Pastor comes home and we leave for our long drive across country with three small children.
6.23.2005
our thingy is broken, trees do not have a gender and squirrels don't have feelings
Actual un-retouched, gripping excerpt from a "instant message" conversation between me and the bible scholar I'm married to: (my additional comments are in italics)
the Pastor: um
the Pastor: what was I gonna ask you.
the Pastor: Oh, my tree . .. CP - how is she (CP stands for Chinese Pistachio, even though the thing is not going to have pistachio nuts... so what's the point?)
me: It's just a tree. It has no gender.
me: I can't figure out the hose thing, but the tree appears to be fine.
the Pastor: You wanna bet! Trees have gender!
the Pastor: What, you can't turn on hose?
me: Not ours.
the Pastor: Can you or can you not turn on the hose?
the Pastor: You're joking?
me: If a squirrel can't have feelings a tree cannot have a gender. (this is a follow up to a conversation we had in England. I saw this big, fat, happy-looking squirrel, and I said I wonder what it is thinking. The Pastor said Robyn it is a squirrel. It is not thinking anything)
me: Our thingy is broken
the Pastor: PUSH in while turning on or off.
me: It doesn't have the handle turny thingy?
the Pastor: No handle turny thingy at all?
me: No, the little round thing that you use to turn it on is not on it.
the Pastor: Why would someone steal our trash can, then our spigot handle-turney-thingy? (someone stole one of our big trash cans)
the Pastor: Whatever.
me: The turny thing is on the ground, i can't make it work.
the Pastor: Honey. You push it in and turn . . . okay?
the Pastor: Push in.
the Pastor Turn clockwise on.
the Pastor: Turn clockwise off.
me: I figure it's kids, or maybe somebody stopped by to get a drink. Mom said once when she came over the gate was open. I figured some of the neighbor kids had gotten a drink. (how OLD do I sound, blaming something on "I figure it's kids"??? ugggghhhh)
the Pastor: It's like a key to a vehicle or house.
me: I know how to use a faucet.
the Pastor: So now you're blaming drinking kids?
the Pastor: I'm being silly honey
me: Thirsty kids, not drinking.
the Pastor: um
the Pastor: what was I gonna ask you.
the Pastor: Oh, my tree . .. CP - how is she (CP stands for Chinese Pistachio, even though the thing is not going to have pistachio nuts... so what's the point?)
me: It's just a tree. It has no gender.
me: I can't figure out the hose thing, but the tree appears to be fine.
the Pastor: You wanna bet! Trees have gender!
the Pastor: What, you can't turn on hose?
me: Not ours.
the Pastor: Can you or can you not turn on the hose?
the Pastor: You're joking?
me: If a squirrel can't have feelings a tree cannot have a gender. (this is a follow up to a conversation we had in England. I saw this big, fat, happy-looking squirrel, and I said I wonder what it is thinking. The Pastor said Robyn it is a squirrel. It is not thinking anything)
me: Our thingy is broken
the Pastor: PUSH in while turning on or off.
me: It doesn't have the handle turny thingy?
the Pastor: No handle turny thingy at all?
me: No, the little round thing that you use to turn it on is not on it.
the Pastor: Why would someone steal our trash can, then our spigot handle-turney-thingy? (someone stole one of our big trash cans)
the Pastor: Whatever.
me: The turny thing is on the ground, i can't make it work.
the Pastor: Honey. You push it in and turn . . . okay?
the Pastor: Push in.
the Pastor Turn clockwise on.
the Pastor: Turn clockwise off.
me: I figure it's kids, or maybe somebody stopped by to get a drink. Mom said once when she came over the gate was open. I figured some of the neighbor kids had gotten a drink. (how OLD do I sound, blaming something on "I figure it's kids"??? ugggghhhh)
the Pastor: It's like a key to a vehicle or house.
me: I know how to use a faucet.
the Pastor: So now you're blaming drinking kids?
the Pastor: I'm being silly honey
me: Thirsty kids, not drinking.
6.22.2005
worm casserole
Its the semi-annual clearance sale at Victoria's Secret! Spent considerable time picking out some underwear which is probably not very pastor wife-ish.
Bad dream last night. I dreamt I had intentionally made a casserole with worms in it, to serve to people I didn't like. Boy, if some church people read that, they won't be asking me to bring anything to a potluck, huh?!?
At the end of the dream, 2 small square servings of the casserole were gone. The dream dictionary said that worms represent weakness and negativity. Duh!!! Also could mean a low opinion of yourself or someone in your life. Well I did have some low opinions last night before I went to bed. They weren't about me.
Like I am going to handle worms in a food prep setting! But I must admit I am a total recipe whore, so somewhere in my massive pile of unorganized recipes, I may very well have one for worm casserole.
The dream grossed me out so much, I wasn't able to eat all day. Well, that and because my arms are so fat.
Wearing the coral dress today. I was slightly bummed, feeling as though it did not look as cute on me as the girl I originally saw it on, probably because she was about 20 years old, and I...uhhhh, am not 20. But then my chocolate-loving friend (CLF) pointed out that I am WAY more fabulous now than when I was 20.
a story about something so very wrong, on so many levels...
Self-pedicured at home the other day. Then Nate asked if HE could soak his feet in my foot spa. I said sure, and out of sweetness or boredom or a secret desire to be a nail tech (or a combination of all three), I also used the pumice stone, smoother and scrubbing sea salts on his little piggies. Then last night, he asked if he could do it AGAIN, so we did. Then today when I picked him up at school, one of the first things he said was "oh boy I am going to soak my feet tonight!!! I went swimming and they are so dirty!"
Oh, and last week, he told me that he had started his "monthly time". After a few questions and a quick refresher on the differences between girls and boys, we learned that it was just a difficult pooping situation.
Bad dream last night. I dreamt I had intentionally made a casserole with worms in it, to serve to people I didn't like. Boy, if some church people read that, they won't be asking me to bring anything to a potluck, huh?!?
At the end of the dream, 2 small square servings of the casserole were gone. The dream dictionary said that worms represent weakness and negativity. Duh!!! Also could mean a low opinion of yourself or someone in your life. Well I did have some low opinions last night before I went to bed. They weren't about me.
Like I am going to handle worms in a food prep setting! But I must admit I am a total recipe whore, so somewhere in my massive pile of unorganized recipes, I may very well have one for worm casserole.
The dream grossed me out so much, I wasn't able to eat all day. Well, that and because my arms are so fat.
Wearing the coral dress today. I was slightly bummed, feeling as though it did not look as cute on me as the girl I originally saw it on, probably because she was about 20 years old, and I...uhhhh, am not 20. But then my chocolate-loving friend (CLF) pointed out that I am WAY more fabulous now than when I was 20.
a story about something so very wrong, on so many levels...
Self-pedicured at home the other day. Then Nate asked if HE could soak his feet in my foot spa. I said sure, and out of sweetness or boredom or a secret desire to be a nail tech (or a combination of all three), I also used the pumice stone, smoother and scrubbing sea salts on his little piggies. Then last night, he asked if he could do it AGAIN, so we did. Then today when I picked him up at school, one of the first things he said was "oh boy I am going to soak my feet tonight!!! I went swimming and they are so dirty!"
Oh, and last week, he told me that he had started his "monthly time". After a few questions and a quick refresher on the differences between girls and boys, we learned that it was just a difficult pooping situation.
6.21.2005
mesmerized by a talking goat
Nate and I had a good evening at home. I made rotini pasta, with a little lemon and cracked pepper and cream and butter and romano cheese. Oh, and garlic bread. Total yum and total carb! Then we went to get a Sno-Cone (yippee for Sno-Cones) and went to get my money's worth out of my Blockbuster Movie Pass.
We rented Racing Stripes. I wasn't really all that psyched about it, but it was better than I thought it would be. It exceeded the amazingly low expectations I had for the movie. Plus, I was mesmerized by the talking animals. Animals that talk! Their animal lips move! I asked Nathan how that could happen. He said it's all computer-animated mom! This movie cost like $20 million to make! Oh, ok. What I don't get is how come the animals have to have famous people voices. How come the horse HAS to sound like Dustin Hoffman? Does it really make the movie that much better? How come the goat has to sound like Whoopi Goldberg? Can't the talking animals have nobody voices? Can't it just be amazing enough that the animals talk - even if they only do it when no humans in the movie can see them?
I have not recovered from jet-lag. Since returning from England, I have been going to bed somewhere in the 8-9 o'clock hour. My 9 year old stays up later than me. I've just been having a hard time re-adjusting my body. Literally, if my body becomes still, I will fall asleep. Nathan will say something to me, and I will respond to his inquiry with some type of random mumbling jibberish that makes no sense and has nothing to do with the thing he was asking me about. Poor kid.
In fact, I have been so tired that it is affecting my memory. I had a cute little thing to blog about. I was talking to the Pastor on the phone and telling him about how Nate and I were going to get Sno-Cones, and he thought I said something else that was way funnier than Sno-Cones, but I can't remember what it was that he thought I said. And I am sitting her trying to blog and I cannot remember these funny anecdotes and I keep yawning!
In my jet-laggedness, I have done nothing since I've been home but sleep, work, and hang with the Nate-meister. I have managed to un-do the damage that was inflicted upon the house by small children prior to England, but I still have stuff in the family room and in the garage left to unpack. I would like to get this done 1. in this lifetime 2. before we move again.
Feeling just slightly panicky. It's official. I am quitting my job. It's very easy to trust the Pastor and know that he will take care of me. It's much less easier to trust myself. I've always HAD to work and have drawn my security from my own ability to work.
And I want you to know, I'm not going to be one of those people, if you ask me what I do, I'm not going to say something like "oh, I do the hardest job of all! I work at home!", or something corny like that. If you ask me what I do, I'm going to be completely honest and tell you absolutely nothing. Let's face it, right now, I work in an office AND I do stuff at home like laundry and cook and clean and kids and blah blah blah. So I am not going to quit my day job and try to sugar-coat the other stuff. Nuh-uh.
The Pastor will be in England for another week. Practically as soon as he gets back, we are headed to North Dakota for a family reunion (his). Then the week after that, we are headed to a youth camp in the Ozarks where the Pastor is officiating, presiding, doing his schtick, whatever. Then, after that, I plan on spending considerable time lounging by the swimming pool and in this really cool giant bean-bag chair we have. That will be my full-time job. Oh, and I'll still cook, clean, perform kid-related duties, etc.
I must admit it is a bit scary to think that I am quitting my job and then immediately driving cross-country with three small children and one Pastor and will be trapped in the confines of a vehicle. A little teeny part of me thought maybe I should tell my boss I CAN work and don't need the va-ca after all.
Filling out applications for the Pastor and I to work in Missions. The applications came with information about preparing to become a missionary, but there's nothing in there about the wardrobe you'll need or what if you need special vegetarian meals in the mission field or a pedicure or important things like that. It does say some stuff about cross-cultural experience. I have recently eaten at many culturally diverse restaurants - Indian, Nepalese... does that help?
Things I can do in my "retirement"
-learn how to make a pie
-paint my nails
-learn to cook Indian food
-finally learn how to crochet
-wash my car
-finish my wedding thank you notes
-drink my 8 glasses of water a day
-exercise
-blog
-recover from my jet-lag
-finish unpacking
-Learn Spanish. The Pastor has bought some language books and we are going to try this one. I'm not a linguist, that's for sure. I've tried to learn Spanish as an adult before, with no luck whatsoever. So all the Spanish I know is all the Spanish I learned on Sesame Street and what I've learned trying to order a no-meat, no-onion cheeseburger at McDonald's.
-Robyn...I have a good relationship with Wookies
We rented Racing Stripes. I wasn't really all that psyched about it, but it was better than I thought it would be. It exceeded the amazingly low expectations I had for the movie. Plus, I was mesmerized by the talking animals. Animals that talk! Their animal lips move! I asked Nathan how that could happen. He said it's all computer-animated mom! This movie cost like $20 million to make! Oh, ok. What I don't get is how come the animals have to have famous people voices. How come the horse HAS to sound like Dustin Hoffman? Does it really make the movie that much better? How come the goat has to sound like Whoopi Goldberg? Can't the talking animals have nobody voices? Can't it just be amazing enough that the animals talk - even if they only do it when no humans in the movie can see them?
I have not recovered from jet-lag. Since returning from England, I have been going to bed somewhere in the 8-9 o'clock hour. My 9 year old stays up later than me. I've just been having a hard time re-adjusting my body. Literally, if my body becomes still, I will fall asleep. Nathan will say something to me, and I will respond to his inquiry with some type of random mumbling jibberish that makes no sense and has nothing to do with the thing he was asking me about. Poor kid.
In fact, I have been so tired that it is affecting my memory. I had a cute little thing to blog about. I was talking to the Pastor on the phone and telling him about how Nate and I were going to get Sno-Cones, and he thought I said something else that was way funnier than Sno-Cones, but I can't remember what it was that he thought I said. And I am sitting her trying to blog and I cannot remember these funny anecdotes and I keep yawning!
In my jet-laggedness, I have done nothing since I've been home but sleep, work, and hang with the Nate-meister. I have managed to un-do the damage that was inflicted upon the house by small children prior to England, but I still have stuff in the family room and in the garage left to unpack. I would like to get this done 1. in this lifetime 2. before we move again.
Feeling just slightly panicky. It's official. I am quitting my job. It's very easy to trust the Pastor and know that he will take care of me. It's much less easier to trust myself. I've always HAD to work and have drawn my security from my own ability to work.
And I want you to know, I'm not going to be one of those people, if you ask me what I do, I'm not going to say something like "oh, I do the hardest job of all! I work at home!", or something corny like that. If you ask me what I do, I'm going to be completely honest and tell you absolutely nothing. Let's face it, right now, I work in an office AND I do stuff at home like laundry and cook and clean and kids and blah blah blah. So I am not going to quit my day job and try to sugar-coat the other stuff. Nuh-uh.
The Pastor will be in England for another week. Practically as soon as he gets back, we are headed to North Dakota for a family reunion (his). Then the week after that, we are headed to a youth camp in the Ozarks where the Pastor is officiating, presiding, doing his schtick, whatever. Then, after that, I plan on spending considerable time lounging by the swimming pool and in this really cool giant bean-bag chair we have. That will be my full-time job. Oh, and I'll still cook, clean, perform kid-related duties, etc.
I must admit it is a bit scary to think that I am quitting my job and then immediately driving cross-country with three small children and one Pastor and will be trapped in the confines of a vehicle. A little teeny part of me thought maybe I should tell my boss I CAN work and don't need the va-ca after all.
Filling out applications for the Pastor and I to work in Missions. The applications came with information about preparing to become a missionary, but there's nothing in there about the wardrobe you'll need or what if you need special vegetarian meals in the mission field or a pedicure or important things like that. It does say some stuff about cross-cultural experience. I have recently eaten at many culturally diverse restaurants - Indian, Nepalese... does that help?
Things I can do in my "retirement"
-learn how to make a pie
-paint my nails
-learn to cook Indian food
-finally learn how to crochet
-wash my car
-finish my wedding thank you notes
-drink my 8 glasses of water a day
-exercise
-blog
-recover from my jet-lag
-finish unpacking
-Learn Spanish. The Pastor has bought some language books and we are going to try this one. I'm not a linguist, that's for sure. I've tried to learn Spanish as an adult before, with no luck whatsoever. So all the Spanish I know is all the Spanish I learned on Sesame Street and what I've learned trying to order a no-meat, no-onion cheeseburger at McDonald's.
-Robyn...I have a good relationship with Wookies
6.17.2005
sequined hobo bags, Jerome, the Vulgate and Paris Hilton
A few weeks ago the Pastor received an email asking him to sign a petition against the scandalous Paris Hilton advertisement for Hardees/Carl's Jr. Since we don't have cable and keep our t.v. unplugged and put away (we occassionally pull it out to watch a movie), it is very doubtful we ever would have seen or known about the ad, except for this very nice Christian person who made it a point that we know about it. So, upon receiving this email, the Pastor, who doesn't watch t.v., doesn't like petitions, hates religious fundamentalism, but likes hamburgers and pretty blonde girls (uhhh,me!) reviews the petition, then goes to find the ad on the internet.
He tells me later that not only is the ad good, but so was the burger! The ad was apparently so tantalizing that the Pastor went out and had one of the burgers almost immediately! Oh, the power of advertising.
I might be concerned about the Pastor's fascination with Paris's ad, but I know that Paris has a small dog and we all know how the Pastor feels about cute, small animals, so not to worry.
Perhaps people who send those kinds of petitions should opt out of the cable television world? The Pastor says they should move out of the whore of Babylon, scripture reference Revelation 18-19?, and then they wouldn't be offended by what the whore is! Whatever that means. Is someone saying that Paris Hilton is a whore? I like Paris Hilton (and her small dog) and I'm all confused. I know I DON'T like hamburgers.
OK, so fast forward to today. The Pastor had attempted to buy me one of those trendy hobo, sequined-covered bags in PINK! He actually ordered it in early May so I would have it for my trip to England. Sadly, it never arrived. The Pastor received word today that, due to demand, the purse is over-sold, out-of-stock and I won't receive it. The Pastor broke the bad news to me, which I didn't take too well. So, what's a girl to do? Retail therapy, of course. So I got on-line at the shopintuition.com site to see what else the Pastor could buy me. No purses, but they have the same swimsuit that Paris wears in the Carl's Jr. commercial. So I emailed the link/picture to the Pastor to see if he wanted to buy me that. Te he he. Uhhh, not likely since it is over $200 and doesn't ship immediately, and apparently when it comes to the Paris Hilton ad, the Pastor needs instant burger gratification.
Later, the Pastor and I are instant messaging each other. That particular method of communication can be challenging, because you are not really "listening" to the other person. So I find that two people can actually be carrying on two completely different conversations.
The Pastor was talking about Jerome, this guy, who sat in caves and translated the Bible to create the Vulgate. This was the first translation of the Bible from Hebrew and Greek to another language -in Latin - and it was effectively THE Bible used by ALL Christians for a bunch of years until the Reformation. Phew!
And what was I talking about? Paris Hilton! Still! Oh well.
And by the way, I got the purse in silver.
He tells me later that not only is the ad good, but so was the burger! The ad was apparently so tantalizing that the Pastor went out and had one of the burgers almost immediately! Oh, the power of advertising.
I might be concerned about the Pastor's fascination with Paris's ad, but I know that Paris has a small dog and we all know how the Pastor feels about cute, small animals, so not to worry.
Perhaps people who send those kinds of petitions should opt out of the cable television world? The Pastor says they should move out of the whore of Babylon, scripture reference Revelation 18-19?, and then they wouldn't be offended by what the whore is! Whatever that means. Is someone saying that Paris Hilton is a whore? I like Paris Hilton (and her small dog) and I'm all confused. I know I DON'T like hamburgers.
OK, so fast forward to today. The Pastor had attempted to buy me one of those trendy hobo, sequined-covered bags in PINK! He actually ordered it in early May so I would have it for my trip to England. Sadly, it never arrived. The Pastor received word today that, due to demand, the purse is over-sold, out-of-stock and I won't receive it. The Pastor broke the bad news to me, which I didn't take too well. So, what's a girl to do? Retail therapy, of course. So I got on-line at the shopintuition.com site to see what else the Pastor could buy me. No purses, but they have the same swimsuit that Paris wears in the Carl's Jr. commercial. So I emailed the link/picture to the Pastor to see if he wanted to buy me that. Te he he. Uhhh, not likely since it is over $200 and doesn't ship immediately, and apparently when it comes to the Paris Hilton ad, the Pastor needs instant burger gratification.
Later, the Pastor and I are instant messaging each other. That particular method of communication can be challenging, because you are not really "listening" to the other person. So I find that two people can actually be carrying on two completely different conversations.
The Pastor was talking about Jerome, this guy, who sat in caves and translated the Bible to create the Vulgate. This was the first translation of the Bible from Hebrew and Greek to another language -in Latin - and it was effectively THE Bible used by ALL Christians for a bunch of years until the Reformation. Phew!
And what was I talking about? Paris Hilton! Still! Oh well.
And by the way, I got the purse in silver.
6.15.2005
I'm back, and with minty-fresh breath!
I'm back. The Pastor's not.
I flat-ironed my hair again in the Newark airport. Did I tell you on the way to England I had flat-ironed my hair in the Newark airport? Some people might complain about long lay-overs, but I say they are good for practicing time-consuming beauty rituals.
Uneventful, long trip on the way home. An English baby on the plane took "quite a shine" to me. Anyway, that's what his Mum told me. I was going to just take him home with me, and after the long plane ride I think his parents were amenable to this, but it's hard enough to get through Customs as-is.
Nate picked me up at the airport. After a few "I missed you's" and "I love you so much's", he quickly moved on to "what did you buy me?"
And once I got home, I found the gum I bought to chew on the plane.
When I woke up this morning, I kid you not, I had no idea where I was. I did not even recognize the sound of my own alarm. I was thinking what in the world is that unrecognizable noise?
More later. I have some trip related blog entries I haven't posted yet. Must catch up!
I am suffering from jet-lag, PMS, a massive headache and post-trip depression. I started reading a book yesterday on the black death, the great plague that gripped England in the mid 1300's. Not a very uplifting book. Had to finally put it away and deep-conditioned my hair instead!
I flat-ironed my hair again in the Newark airport. Did I tell you on the way to England I had flat-ironed my hair in the Newark airport? Some people might complain about long lay-overs, but I say they are good for practicing time-consuming beauty rituals.
Uneventful, long trip on the way home. An English baby on the plane took "quite a shine" to me. Anyway, that's what his Mum told me. I was going to just take him home with me, and after the long plane ride I think his parents were amenable to this, but it's hard enough to get through Customs as-is.
Nate picked me up at the airport. After a few "I missed you's" and "I love you so much's", he quickly moved on to "what did you buy me?"
And once I got home, I found the gum I bought to chew on the plane.
When I woke up this morning, I kid you not, I had no idea where I was. I did not even recognize the sound of my own alarm. I was thinking what in the world is that unrecognizable noise?
More later. I have some trip related blog entries I haven't posted yet. Must catch up!
I am suffering from jet-lag, PMS, a massive headache and post-trip depression. I started reading a book yesterday on the black death, the great plague that gripped England in the mid 1300's. Not a very uplifting book. Had to finally put it away and deep-conditioned my hair instead!
6.14.2005
weebles-wobble-but-they-don't-fall-down
Looking down on the Wibbly-Wobbly Millenium Bridge from St. Pauls Cathedral . . . where I nearly fainted 300 metres from the cathedral floor! The water... that's the river Thames, of course.
take the key and lock her up...
Tower Bridge behind us - getting ready to cross under London Bridge that didn't fall down . . . my fair lady! My hair looks quite pretty, doesn't it?
I see London, I see France, I see...
I go around the world to see London, and get off the train and IN THE TRAIN STATION they celebrate Route 66, my backyard! How odd!
6.09.2005
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