a spoonful of cookie dough helps the medicine go down

Finally!

I just thought about the fact that I haven't felt well since the middle of December! That's when it all started. But alas, I have regained my will to live! Hooray!

The Pastor has been asked to speak at another church, out of town, in March. The Pastor always gets frustrated with these out-of-town speaking engagements.

He never knows how much he is going to get paid up-front, he just takes whatever people give him. He doesn't ever know what the accommodations will be ahead of time. For instance, he was on the phone with the pastor of the church who is trying to woo him to come. He asked the guy what he thought to be basic questions, like will there be a place for my kids to sleep? Uhhhhhhhh, he didn't know. And these are the kinds of questions people are unable to answer when they are inviting you to come to their church!

invariably what happens on these deals is we end up spending a lot of time driving in the car, the Pastor gets all mad and it's in no way beneficial to us, but some lucky people get to hear the Pastor preach. I told the Pastor this is ridiculous. Whenever stars like Mariah Carey or Britney Spears get asked to go to an engagement, their publicist or assistant or handler or whatever, will send over the list of demands. Like white flowers MUST be in the dressing room or a bowl full of only red m&m's. I was telling the Pastor he should make up a list of demands too. Hmmm.

Smart Pastor vs. Very Dumb Pastor
The Pastor was sitting at our dining room table. All of the children are gone or asleep. The room is romantically lit. I have on my pretty pajamas. So I saunter over to the refrigerator to get the tub of cookie dough and I grab a couple of spoons. Isn't this all very sweet? I'm thinking how the Pastor and I can lovingly share bites of cookie dough and have nice conversation.

Let me pause for a moment and back up to earlier in the day. I had been waiting for the Pastor to pick me up and noticed in my reflection that I actually had a booty. I admired my booty and thought back to the time when I was flat-a**ed. And for a brief shining moment, I thought "I like my booty". Now how often does THAT happen? The Pastor picked me up, (thank goodness he had a car and didn't have to physically carry my giant backside) and this was still on my mind. I mentioned to him "you know, I used to not have a bottom. It was all just flat back there". I think the Pastor took this to mean I think I'm fat. Well, because that IS usually what I'm thinking.

OK, back to the romance and the cookie dough and blah blah blah. I sit down across from the Pastor and he starts talking about how he cannot allow me to simultaneously complain about the size of my bottom, try various diets AND ingest cookie dough. Just how much cookie dough did he think I was going to eat? Well, the night ended with me tearfully explaining that for one brief shining moment I had actually been content with my bottom, and I just wanted a spoonful of cookie dough.

I think it was his secret plan, a way he knew he could have more of the cookie dough to himself. He should probably include cookie dough on his list of demands.

aaargh

Bad news. Too sick to blog. I am still not fully functioning! Good
news. Illness may be helping me jump-start my New Year's diet.

cruel & unusual punishment

To have swimsuits in the stores already, don't ya think?

Amazon Rainforest

I'm taking some college courses starting next week. Me! A co-ed! One of many perks I get from being married to the Pastor who is also a Professor. Professor Hot T. McHotstuff! College should give me something to blog about, right?

Sad story (get the Kleenex)
I went to get my transcripts from my prior college, you know, the education my Dad had to pay for. They had to get my transcripts off the "special computer" because they were soooooooo old. Excuse me Ma'am, let me see if we still employ someone who can translate the language your grades were recorded in. Excuse me Ma'am, let me see if we have anyone trained to handle the papyrus on which your records are kept. Excuse me Ma'am, I need some help to carry the stone tablets on which your grades were chiseled.

Unlike my last college experience, I will probably have to carry my own books this time around. I may actually focus on my course-work if I'm not at all concerned about which guys in class I want to date. And this time I STILL get to flirt (amongst other things) with a Professor! Although now my flirting won't help me pass Business Statistics. Similar to my previous college experience, I will definitely see how long I can go without outfit repeating.

Anywho, I got on Amazon.com to look at my textbooks. While there, I browsed the Pastor's wish list. I don't even have the attention span to read nor can I even understand the titles of the books he is interested in.

Sigh.

I am feeling old today. Today is my older brother's birthday, and I always feel old on his birthday. Probably more so than my own birthday. Because I know mine is next and if he's THAT OLD, then I am just two years younger.

lather, rinse, repeat

too. much. information.
I have been suffering from a variety of ailments, which include but are not limited to:
1. I got my period AGAIN for New Year. Just like last year! How can one be expected to make resolutions and get the new year off to a good start like that? 2. My pee is presently not a color that exists in nature. 3. Prior to marrying the Pastor and his brood, no migraine (or "mybrain" as Nate used to call them) headaches for years. After marrying the Pastor and his brood, two in six months! And there was vomit! I never do that! It's horribly unattractive and completely unnecessary, much like pushing in childbirth. 4. I am never eating popcorn again.

these are a few of my favorite things
Almost every day, the Pastor and I take a shower together. I had romanticized this until today, when the Pastor said he did it to save water.

Oh, and when we were in the shower, he was looking at the razor blade I was getting ready to discard. I use those razor blades that have soap around the blade. The soap was all off on the trash blade. He was studying the blade and I knew my adorable cheap husband was thinking 1.
the blade is still good and 2. I am going to find some way to shave with it. So he shaved his cute little face with it, commenting on how he wishes HE had triple blade action instead of a single blade. My sassy retort to that was "well I wish I only had to shave four square inches of my body!".

Tom Cruise, slugs, puppies, babies and an Incubus

The Pastor has been out of town. Witnessing, advancing the Kingdom of God. I've been at home, cleaning, shopping, taking bubble baths, polishing my toes, watching movies and reading Us magazine. You know, all the things that generally support the Pastor's calling and ministry.

The Pastor came home and snuck into our bed at 3 in the morning. Well, I was pretty sure it was him. Either him or an Incubus. The Pastor is a lovely surprise in the wee hours of the morning, however an Incubus is quiet and does not require me to be awake and alert.

more pillow talk
When the Pastor came home from his trip, he was blathering on and on about working and witnessing, blah blah blah mission work blah blah and when he finally took a breath, what did I have to interject into the conversation??? Huh??? "Did you hear Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are having a boy???"

Speaking of babies, I had a completely bizarre dream the other night. I had a baby. It was a girl. I was completely surprised by the fact that I had had a girl. She was teeny, teeny tiny and I had 1. no girl name picked out and 2. no girl clothing. But here's where the dream got kooky. I had the baby, but then it would be a puppy. It kept changing, I dunno? Morphing? From puppy to baby, baby to puppy. In one scene of the dream, I was wrapping the baby in a blanket, and the blanket had snaps all over it, and I was making sure the snaps were snapped so that none of them would bother the baby. Then when the baby was a puppy, I let the puppy out in the backyard, and there was a giant slug outside. I ran back inside the house to get salt to pour on the slug to kill it. I was worried the slug would hurt the puppy. In the end, I named the
baby after my chocolate-lovin' friend, but then it was a puppy again.

But I'm sure my friend would be equally flattered to have a baby OR a puppy named after her. I would take either a baby girl or a puppy. A puppy would love me unconditionally, but a daughter would tweeze unwanted facial hairs when I am living in the nursing home. I don't want to have to put Nate through that. He's been stripped of enough masculinity already.

I looked back on my journal from last Christmas. I had rated it as "not sucking". We JUST (January 5) finished our last Christmas celebration. I would have to rate this Christmas even better than last year. A lot has changed over the past year. For one thing, I live in a house that
actually has food in it. And not just food in the fridge, but also the freezer AND a deep freeze AND the pantry. And I live with people who have an expectation of not only eating the food, but that I will magically prepare it for them as well.

I digress. A big difference for celebrating Christmas was we celebrated with the Pastor's family on Christmas Eve. Flew home on Christmas day. I have never in my life NOT celebrated Christmas on Christmas day. That combined with Nate going over to his dad's as soon as we got home from Arizona and the girls leaving the next day made for a bit of a downer.

I got everything on my Christmas wish list except for Sex and the City DVD collection. Oh, and the E-Z Bake Oven continues to elude me. Oh, and a baby and a puppy.

New Year Moment. 

The Pastor has a long term fascination with the Hare Krishna's. One of my gifts to him. 

Feliz Anos. 

Role Model. 

the swiss army knife wasn't dangerous enough, so we got him a large sharptooth saw! 

Cowboy Hat meets Surf Shirt from Oregon. 

The 3 most un-needy children in the world. 

Happy New Year!  

Our police escort is no doubt calling for backup. 

You know it's been a good trip when you have a police escort off the flight.  

Santa was on our flight home. Now that the busy Christmas season is over, maybe Santa can go get an eyebrow wax.

You'll shoot your eye out!

Nathan got a Swiss Army Knife, and immediately cut himself. Blood on the knife! Don't worry, it wasn't fatal.

At this moment, nothing else mattered. My life became complete.  

What a nice pic. We make a good couple. My shoes match my shirt.  

Mmmmm! A giant snowman burger! We took the kids to Fudruckers.  

I'm thinking of acquiring similar chairs... for use at the dinner table! 

I love this pic. The kids look loopy, and the big Margarita sign and bar are behind them.  

I got to go to In and Out Burger! Just like Paris Hilton!  

One great thing about this car... no room for the children!  

So cute, no caption needed. 

Me & my baby on his birthday. You wouldn't know it, but I almost killed him right there while taking this picture because he wouldn't smile nicely and was trying to do various poses, when I just wanted a nice picture of him on his birthday. One good thing about having a kid with a birthday around Christmas is that you are so freakin' busy, you don't have much time to be nostalgic and sappy about your baby growing up.  

Younger daughter, learning valuable skills for her future career.  

Pastor's wife??? Or Pole Dancer???

On our way to Arizona. It's about time I posted pics! Yes, I made the kids wear their matching Mount Rushmore t-shirts, for easy identification.  

The night of the Nutcracker. I'd hate for you to miss my pretty toes & shoes from that night.