big butts and girls who won't swallow

Friday night we had plans to go to the state fair. Not just ANY state fair, but the Great State Fair. So Friday afternoon, in anticipation of this event, the Pastor starts text messaging me to inform me that he is going shopping for state fair 'costumes' for us. The messaging went back and forth for a bit, with him insisting we would wear costumes and with me pleading if you are going to buy me clothes, you should buy me cute clothes I can wear all the time.

My outfit, you can see pictured below, was a Daisy Duke top and a cut-off denim skirt and cowboy boots. The Pastor would not let me flat iron my hair and made me leave it all messy.
The Pastor could not make up his mind on his own apparel and had purchased two outfits for himself. You can see below the one he ended up wearing, and trust me, the one that got left behind was much too profane for me to describe here. The Pastor will use any excuse to go on a shopping spree at Goodwill.

We went to the fair. Mind you, the people we went with 1. Did not dress up in costumes and 2. did not know that we were going to dress up in costumes and 3. have been friends with the Pastor but really don't know me well enough to know what to think of me, much less me dressed in Daisy Duke fashion. Oh, and not only did we go to the fair, the Pastor took me to a nice restaurant beforehand. People were staring, and not in a good way.

To make up for the dreadful outfit I wore to the fair, Saturday we went to a college football game and I thought I looked pretty cute. Except the picture-taking Pastor snapped a pic of me from BEHIND and let's just say it was less flattering than the Daisy Duke outfit. I look like a fat &%$ China-man.

Sunday church experiences
1. We went to the Church of the Jumbotron. We sat on the front row and the Pastor (not the pastor of the Jumbotron Church, but my Pastor) read his book on Rene' Girard the entire time. I could see one of the Associate Pastors of the Jumbotron Church giving my Pastor the evil-eye and a definite how-could-you-do-that in church sorta look. Then again it might have been a how-could-you-run-around-with-someone-with-such-a-fat-hiney sorta look.

2. Then we went to the inner-city church held outside in a park. The fun one, where we learn things like "my daddy is married to my mommy but he doesn't sleep with my mommy, he sleeps with his girlfriend" (from a four year old) and that little kids have had to worry about things like being evicted and not knowing where they would stay or having a dad in jail. I held a little girl for most of the time we were there. I fed her some pizza and she would not swallow all the food. When we were done with the pizza she kept a bite in her mouth which she would neither swallow nor spit out.

3. Then we went to the evening worship experience, the one with the Starbucks coffee and the cookies.

That's all. Three worship experiences on a Sunday. I'm sorry people, but that's all we managed to attend. Perhaps if we had gotten our lazy state fair attending big butts out of bed earlier, we could have squeezed in one more. Or maybe we could have gone to another one instead of taking a nap and watching a movie we rented from Blockbuster in the afternoon.

I'm very upset because I already wrote this blog entry once, and in a moment of blondeness I deleted it which didn't make me too happy, and so I had to re-write it and now I feel like I am forgetting all the cute and clever things I said. Plus I originally wrote it last night when I was sharp and lucid and now I am trying to re-write it after I just finished working out and haven't finished my coffee yet. Now I am just typing and I'm really not sure how to end this.

And I'm more than a bit concerned that I fit in so well at the state fair.