Me, the Pastor & Banana Republic top!

one of these things is not like the other

See why I had to be such a girly-girl?????

he's 12, yet I haven't aged a day

I'd show you proof of my non-aging, but when I went to scan pics I realized I had a real scrunchie addiction in '95. That's the problem with always being a fashion victim.

I can assure you I gave birth with perfect hair, fingernails and make-up.

I brought him home from the hospital in this sock.

And now it is practically the same size as his socks.

Christmas Eve church service

Sorry I didn't get a good picture of the dress! I'm not much of an outfit repeater, so that may have been the only photographic opportunity.

Maybe I'll wear it to Wal-Mart or someplace.

at the round barn

where you can do anything you want

except square dance

That was the 90 year old curator's joke. Not mine.

I grew a person.

And now he's 12.

12 year olds are mortified when you say things like "I grew a person."


Five tickets to the Harlem Globetrotters - $120.00
Parking - $6.00
Lunch - $35.00
Basketball - $3.00
Two weeks later, if one of the kids can't remember going to something you spent this much money on, then I guess it is priceless.

I like boys

pizza pi

The Pastor and I went out for pizza tonight to celebrate our childlessness.

We ordered a pizza that had a different topping on each slice. It was very pretty. I wish I had taken a picture of it, but did you really want to see a picture of our pizza?

Anyway, the waitress asked the Pastor if we wanted a medium or a large. I know that doesn't seem like a very difficult question, but I cannot describe the puzzled look the Pastor got on his face. I can say it's probably the same expression I have when someone asks me to be the one to pray, if I know the answer to some Bible question or for directions.

Large! I told her! Large!

It turns out the Pastor could not spit out the pizza size because in his head he was calculating a complex equation of which size would have a better crust-to-pizza ratio. You see, the crust edge stays the same size no matter what size pizza you get, but if you order a bigger pizza, you get more pizza in your crust-to-pizza ratio.

And to think I just blurted out an answer like that. I had no idea. No wonder I had to take College Algebra so many times.

Thankfully, large turned out to be the right answer.


the greatest gift of all

I didn't get "My So Called Life" on DVD.

I didn't get a Volkswagen Bug.

I didn't get Sarah Jessica Parker perfume.

But I did get the gift of being right.

The Pastor and I were having what seemed like our four thousandth conversation helping a 9 year old match clothes. These conversations usually involve a girl wanting to wear unisex clothing, something camouflage, nothing that actually matches, something she has already worn (probably the preceeding day) and me wanting to jab myself in the eye with the closest wire hanger.

The Pastor, the compassionate Pastor, said "She's only nine! How old were you when you started putting together your outfits?"

Uhhh TWO!

Nuh uh!

Yes, TWO!

I'm calling your mother!

Fine, I'll help you dial.

We get mom on the phone. The Pastor asks her, and drumroll please -

Mom says

I was two.

I was right! I was right! Neener neener neener I was right.

I told Mom she didn't have to get me anything else for Christmas.


I'm glad Christmas is over.

I was going to post about how all of the Christmas letters and cute family pictures we received in the mail were about to send me right over the edge. I was going to compose my own version of a Christmas letter, a truthful one, but then I looked back through all my pictures over the past year, remembered I had been to the beach (twice!) and overseas, and decided I have a good life and didn't need to whine and complain because of a couple of problems.

Merry Christmas.


pop-up Pastor

None of the people I have ever socialized with at the art museum have ever seen my husband. I wonder what, all these months, they have pictured in their minds when they imagined my doctor/pastor/professor husband who takes me on such lovely trips and buys me large Coach purses and big diamond rings.

Today, they got to see him.

Me - in my cute little I'm an art museum docent outfit and I'm so stylish and art-y looking.

The Pastor - wearing a hoodie he found on the street. Yes, not only did he find it on the street, it was a woman's hoodie, brown with pink trim, and it advertises a liquor store. He completed his outfit with a Salvation Army t-shirt and Goodwill jeans.

What a couple we must have looked like seated at the art museum cafe'.

The Pastor was in rare form.

He was slightly unhappy with his $9 sandwich, eaten in the cafe' which has a nice view of a downtown street and plenty of homeless people. What would Jesus do? Would Jesus eat a $9 sandwich? The Pastor had to justify the $9 sandwich somehow, so he ate all the "free" butter and rolls he could. He also had the waitress keep refilling his water glass and bring him extra peppers.

Of course, we were seated within viewing distance of the curator and an important museum donor. They didn't know that before lunch the Pastor had been fascinated with a pop-up greeting card he saw in the gift shop. (He's easily entertained - obviously he's easy to dress too.) The Pastor's eagerness to pop-up from the table to go back to play with the card, well to the curator and donor, I'm sure it looked like my scruffly date was just sticking me with the check. He did stick me with the check, but I did have his money to pay.

Perhaps they thought I had brought a homeless man off the street to feed him lunch.

Imagine if the Pastor had an entire pop-up book. He'd be entertained for hours. Too bad he doesn't want any Christmas presents.

Maybe they have one at Goodwill.



My cousin did a post on his blog listing seven secret things most people don't know about him. I've been toying around with that idea in my head, trying to compose a post, but then I came to the conclusion that if you don't know it's because I don't want you to know. Ha! I'll never tell.

I've decided instead to write a post with seven random things. No big secrets here.

1. I absolutely love talking dog movies. I think I'll rent Underdog this week. I bet they'll have it at the redbox.

2. I love to look at cookbooks. I have an embarrassingly high number checked out from the library right now.

3. Some of the greatest inventions ever: pay-at-the-pump, self check-out, crock-pot liners, redbox, two flavors of Doritos in one bag! Genius!

4. I can't get my nail polish off. How is it that a nail polish can be made that I can't seem to remove with fingernail polish remover, yet it still managed to chip in such a way that I needed to take it off?

5. I've been making my own cofffee at home, which has saved the Pastor considerable money and I think helped me to somehow drop a few more pounds even though everything I ordered at the Bucks was supposed to be sugar-free and non-fat.

6. I wish I had a big, long bathroom counter. Not just a sink with no counter. The Pastor makes fun of me because I dump all of my cosmetics out of a hat box into the sink every day, and as I use an item, I return it back to the hat box. No counter!
I don't have a dream house. I don't have a dream bathroom. I just have a dream bathroom counter.

7. My current food obsession is Nutella. Every single morning. On a croissant. That's a healthy breakfast!


all dressed up and no where to ho ho ho

Nazarene Party Ready.

Imagine this Isaac Mizrahi for Target dress in white with small velvety black dots - almost like a dotted-swiss fabric. This was my Nazarene party dress for this evening. And I have a reddish fitted velvet jacket to go over it.

Totally. Stinkin. Cute.

Here's the "sexy Mrs. Claus" look I am trying to replicate with the jacket:

I think we can all agree what a good look this is.

I can wear the jacket with the dress or I can wear it with dressy jeans. Ann Taylor Loft! But I didn't want to upset the Pastor by paying $119 for a jacket. Mom found me one very similar at Kohl's for $26.

Only the problem with all of my spectacular party clothes is we are experiencing Winter Storm 2007! and our party is canceled. : (

Plus I have a ham and a turkey in my fridge, taking up all the room that I normally reserve for my vegetarian food, you know, that stuff I eat. If things get desperate, you may find me turned into a carnivore, eating bird and pork, but wearing a very cute outfit.

Oh, and you should see how good my nails look. Red french tips with silver lines. Pretty and sparkly.

latte + Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha + Diet Coke = blogging at 4:20 a.m.

It's 4:20 a.m.

The Pastor is sleeping next to me.

I've got to stop with the caffeine.

And while I'm at it, tortillla chips.

And birthday cake (1st was Loretta, then Nate). We've had cake at our house for weeks.

More math: cake + tortilla chips = fat.



Me, looking at pj's on-line at victoriassecret.com.

The Pastor, looking over my shoulder.

Me: Would I look cute in these pj's? With the donuts all over them? Those are kind of cute? Or what about these? With the lipstick print? Which ones do you like?

The Pastor: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
(eyes glassy, mouth open)

Me: These? Or these?

The Pastor: Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, it's not so much about which ones as it is the pose. Its hard for me to get past the pose.

Me: Oh, so it doesn't matter which jammies, its just how I stand around in them.


Thanks, Victoria's Secret, thanks for the ad campaign which makes it look like that's how all grown women look in flannel pjs. Having some sort of grown-up slumber party, with lip-gloss and perfectly wavy hair. And wearing a push-up bra under the jammie top. I barely need a bra most of the time, I certainly don't need one at home when I'm in my pj's. Only Victoria's Secret could take a group of women in flannel pajamas and houseslippers and make it look semi-pornographic.

That's nice to have the clarification on the whole posing thing. That explains why, even though I purchased something from their "Very Sexy" line last month, that its never quite worked out for me when I've worn it. I guess I'm just not posing like I'm supposed to.

Sigh. Its exhausting. Even when you're just hanging around the house in your pj's.


Happy Thanksgiving

It's not a trip without

-Some sort of near death experience for me (cliff hiking). If you only knew how teeny the cliffs were, you would know how dramatic I am. But you don't know, so you don't know.

-The Pastor attempting to do something for which he is probably "too old" to do.

-A trip to Goodwill/Amvets/Salvation Army. Then, me trying to pack our stuff to come home and find room for the 13 shirts the Pastor bought at Goodwill.

-Multiple pictures of me wearing my blue Victoria's Secret hoodie and my ugly Chacos.

And I am proud to say this is my second consecutive trip with no tears. Now that's something to be thankful for.


loathes and fishes

I loathe myself.

Me, at Bible conference.

The Pastor, across conference center lobby.

The Pastor whistles at me. He is ready to go! I hop up! Here I am, my Lord!

Other Nazarene wife says NOOOOOO he did not just whistle at you!

Me, giggling. Tee hee he. He sure did! Isn't that cute? He whistles and I just hop to it, just like a nice wife would!

I can't believe I did that.

Some dogs won't do that.

I loathe myself.


Oh, and the Pastor looks really good in a wet suit. I'm so fat after a couple of trips to In-N-Out Burger, I wouldn't want to squeeze into one. Ugh.


bad haircuts & scary beards

Hello from San Diego.

I'm here with the Pastor and Nate. The Pastor is attending some Bible conference. Bad haircuts, un-kempt beards and bad fashion is every-wear. And that doesn't exclude the women.


bippidy boppidy ick

I have a friend who had a mouse in her coat closet. Because of that, everytime I look in my coat closet, I'm cautiously on the lookout for mice. As though, instinctively, that's where all mice go. And besides, my coat closet is mainly full of Barbies, but that's a different subject.

Imagine my surprise this morning when I saw a mouse, not in the coat closet, but in another area of the house.

I'm hoping it's one of those helpful mice. I have always liked the movie The Rescuers. Those were nice mice. And I liked Ratatouille. I wouldn't mind some help in the kitchen. Or even those cute mice in Cinderella. I never mend anything, I just give it to Goodwill. Maybe it's a mouse that sews buttons.

Here's hoping.

Judas Iscariot vs. Robyn ScaryIdiot

Nate: (watching a dvd) what did that guy mean when he said "I'll need 30 pieces of silver?"

Me: Uhhhhh, I have no idea. I didn't understand that part either.

Pastor: WHAT!?!?! Neither one of you get the biblical reference to Judas??? What were they talking about?

Me: Betraying a friend.

Pastor: WHAT!?!?! Neither one of you realized they were talking about Judas?

Me: Uhhhhhhh, nope. I'm watching House, M.D.! Not some boring Bible video!

This is why we don't let the Pastor watch t.v. with us.

Pastor Party at the Parsonage

Probably the last graduation pics you'll have to see. We had a tea party for the Pastor this weekend. Video features my clean house, my fabulous dress (and shoes) and one of the few kids in world I did not give birth to who is not a brat.


Happy Halloween

I dress like this all the time. I'm just glad to have a day when it's acceptable.

me & a very concerned Jehovah's Witness

He didn't need the bike, I couldn't out-run him in the heels.

Frankly, I could never be nurse. First of all, I have no bedside manner. Secondly, the shoes hurt too much.

My coach turned into a pumpkin, so I carved it.


Yes, I am expecting at least one e-mail about my tights.

(You have to give the bar a nudge at the end of the song - there's more pictures after the song is over. Sigh.)

same bench!

our bench, two years ago

those nice English people

leave bowls of sugar cubes around, even when its not tea time

The Pastor and I, after a "sugar high" -

high tea, II

This past week, the Pastor and I got to celebrate his graduation in the same library -

high tea

two years ago, a happy newlywed had her first English tea in this library -


silly Vicar!

If Pastor/Vicar wanted me to stop shopping, why did he bring me to Minneapolis? Helllllllloooooooo! World's Largest Mall! Ever heard of it?


I am blogging

and the Pastor is enjoying England outside.

I am going to join him.

To Amsterdam tomorrow, home later this week.

Hopefully, I'll be able to get all of the Top Shop stuffed in my bag. Fortunately, packing is one of my spiritual gifts.


I Married the Vicar

In the U.K. he's a Vicar, not a Pastor.

Went to the Top Shop today. I spent a lot lot lot of money in pounds, and it's even worse when you convert it to dollars.

The Vicar just said I was hogging the computer. He's been internet deprived, so I'll let him have it back.

More later.


I can't blog right now!

In the U.K. and Amsterdam.

Be back next week!


yet another blog entry nearly entirely devoted to my true love: cake

Went on a date with the Pastor last night. Went to the Powder Puff football game (girls play, boys cheer) and then out for dessert.

Of course I got the chocolate cake. A "slice" was as big as my head. Notice I didn't say as big as my bottom. Of course when the chocolate cake came, that wasn't good enough. I wanted to try a bite of the Pastor's apple-crusty-caramel-whipped cream thingy. I nearly needed to be restrained as I realized I was about to dig into his dessert and he hadn't even gotten to eat the first bite. I think he said something like "eat your own dessert!" Of course I couldn't finish the chocolate cake and I brought the rest home. You must admit though, when a piece of cake is $8, you should probably try to get more than one serving out of it. Of course, the Pastor forgot his camera (again - not sure why he's no longer capturing our every moment in film) so you will just have to take my word on how giant this cake was and how pretty I looked, you know - before I gained all the weight from eating cake.

Of course I am eating the cake as I blog. It's even better the next day, cold. Of course the cake has been haunting me all day. It's gone something like this:

Me, making coffee. Thinking I sure would like to eat cake for breakfast. It's not different from a muffin, is it? Or a chocolate CAKE donut?

Then we went to church. I would tell you I wasn't paying attention to what the Pastor was saying because I was thinking about the cake, but that's not it. I was really trying to restrain and entertain the church toddler, so that everyone else in the building could hear the Pastor talk. But had I not been in charge of the entire nursery (one toddler) I probably would have thought about cake instead of listening to the Pastor.

I do know he preached on Genesis 1.

Now, if I only knew what that's about.




Will you be my TWIRP date Saturday night?


satan's minions, at work again

at Walgreens, of course

Me, strep throat. Attempting to fill two prescriptions. One, antibiotic. The other, throat gargle solution. On throat solution, Walgreens pharm tech says "You'll have to go to a SPECIALTY pharmacy to get this filled. Like one at the hospital. We don't have these SPECIAL ingredients. No Walgreens does." OK, who knows what kind of exotic potion this is. The Pastor and I leave Walgreens. I wonder, could the CVS across the street possibly have these exotic ingredients? Hmmmmmmmm! We drive across the street, explain to the CVS GENIUS pharmacist, who laughs and says my gargle will be ready in half an hour.

Sorry, Walgreens, but I can't simultaneously deal with stupidity and strep throat.

The Pastor was very sweet, even though I was sick and spoiled. I would say acting spoiled, but I wasn't acting. I wanted soup. What kind of soup? Wonton soup or tortilla soup. He didn't want to drive that far. OK, then it woud have to be Lipton noodle soup in a box with the little, tiny noodles. I can't deal with noodle soup in a can. What I didn't tell the Pastor was I don't like the soup in a can because I think those noodles look like worms and I haven't been able to eat any worm-resembling food or fishsticks since I read How to Eat Fried Worms when I was a kid. The Pastor tried to find my soup with no success and I appreciate the effort, but I'm still not sure why he came home with a meat pizza. You know, one of the ones a vegetarian (like me) can't even try to pick the meat off because he got hamburger and it's just impossible.


one more, from the other direction

You can see the china cabinet that proves I am, in fact, an official old lady. An old lady who is fat from too many cookies and who's knees should not be seen.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

A whole lot of people.

Yes, I can have up to 25 people for dinner on a very short notice. I have at least two friends who will be dismayed at my non-Pottery Barn chairs, etc. But don't I get bonus points for neatness, or having that many placemats?

The menu? Lasagna, garlic bread, salad. For dessert? Peach cobbler, key lime pie, and those evil cookies. Every time someone took a cookie, I could see it in the Pastor's eyes: "those cookies cost 75 cents a piece - you'd better appreciate it!"

herein lies the problem

they are pretty AND delicious

I wish

I wanted to do ANYTHING more than I just want to sit here and eat cookies.

It's me!

1. Great dress, but I should have carried a different purse.

2. Spent all afternoon getting dressed, and not one decent picture. I don't like my bare legs and I don't care for my knees. Coco Chanel was right about a woman's knees not needing to be seen.

3. And how much do you hate it when this happens? I bought a necklace to go with the dress. Do you see it? No! Because I forgot to wear it!


beware of buffalo

People shouldn't go to Oklahoma for a whole lot of reasons, attacking buffaloes are just one of them.

If you want to hear about how my brother was gored by a buffalo on a Boy Scout camping trip when he was 13, go to

(Thanks to http://www.makingchutney.com for this link)

just past 31 minutes

Oddly, I still encouraged my son to join Boy Scouts even though he never wanted to join. As it turned out, when we went to an informational meeting, he had a burning question: "Do Boy Scouts have to hunt and kill bears?" Once they answered that NO, he signed up immediately.

But no one told him about the buffaloes.

Oh, and my brother did go on to become an Eagle Scout, so I guess it was all worth it huh?


What to wear?

To soccer game at 11:00 a.m.?

How about Express animal print gray/hot pink/black t, ties in back, Express gray pants, chunky pink and black lucite necklace and hot pink Steve Madden heels?

What a waste of a perfectly good outfit.

OK, now what to wear to soccer game #2 at 1:00 p.m., after you thought you might die of a heat stroke at soccer game #1?

Camo shorts and a blue tank, both from Target.

Don't be too disappointed with me. I still have my Clinique face and nice hair, so I don't look (or act) like the other soccer moms. I can also assure you I am the only one reading "Wise Words from Wise Women" instead of screaming nonsense at a confused group of children, all trying to kick the same ball.


Could someone please tell me

where all of our spoons have gone?

How could spoons just disappear like that?


me & the Pastor?????

No, not quite. I don't have horns, contrary to what he might say. And he certainly wouldn't allow any small dogs. Trust me.
Kids ok, dogs not ok. Whatever. He wouldn't have had to pay for braces for the dog! Ha!

It COULD be us though. He does leave his shoes all over the place.

I have been a busy, well-behaved Pastor's wife.

First of all, I went to a ladies Christian luncheon last week. I brought the median age down significantly. What do Christian ladies wear? A Max & Cleo houndstooth dress, skinny red patent belt and 1940-ish red heels.

Then, I went to a ladies Bible coffee yesterday. Again, doing my part to bring the median age waaaaaaay down. I'm pretty sure I am/was incognito about my identity as a Pastor's wife and that whole thing about being married to Dr. Bible Scholar. Due to one perfectly innocent stream of conversation, they may have even thought I don't attend church. We'll see how long I can fly below the radar. Oh, and how fabulous was ladies Bible coffee? They had cake!!! Chocolate cake! You know how happy this makes me.

I have been volunteering as a Docent at the art museum. The painting above is by the artist currently being featured in a special exhibit. So far, I haven't actually had to do anything, except undergo training about the exhibit and about art. I've gotten to walk through the current exhibit twice. Isn't that fantastic? I get to say I'm volunteering, and I get to walk around and look at art! It's as though I've beaten the system! If you live by me, you should go see this exhibit. There is no cake, but there is a pastel drawing of a piece of chocolate cake with pink icing. Close enough.

I have recently accepted a temporary assignment working at the temporary agency. I love love love love love temp assignments. I love being invisible and everyone ignoring you because you are just temporary.

And speaking of being invisible, I am apparently good enough to deliver goodies to soccer practice, but not good enough for anyone to acknowledge my presence. Hmmmm, maybe I AM invisible??????

I wonder, should I use my powers for good or evil?

Bwah ha ha ha ha!


love a-fair

It’s that special time of year. The State Fair’s in town.

The picture is not new (I've lost weight since then : )!). It is from the first year the Pastor and I got married and decided to go to the fair as WTC - White Trash Couple. The Pastor didn’t want to be my date this year, so I took my WTK, White Trash Kid. Just kidding. We went as our own socio-economic bracket. He wore shoes and has braces and highlights and Aero jeans, so he is hardly trashy. We went today, on the 2nd day of the Fair, before the Carnies start to stink and the grease gets old.

My earliest memories of going to the State Fair involve kidnapping and bondage.

When I was a young child, two girls got kidnapped from the Fair. They were never seen again. That kind of thing can really freak out a little kid, so whenever I heard the words “State Fair” I would immediately think “Scary place where people disappear. Don’t go!” Well, don’t go because of that and because I’m really not into fried food.

Another thing that gives me anxiety is trying to find my car in a large parking area like the State Fairgrounds. About half the time, I can’t find my car at Target or the mall, and I go to those places frequently and try to park in the same general area each time. I experienced this lost car trauma when Nate and I did “Haunt the Zoo” in 2000. Fortunately, I’d gotten Nate all jacked up on red punch and by the time I finally found the car he’d sugar-crashed and fallen asleep. He has no recall of my meltdown. He’s obviously blocked it from his memory.

OK, back to the Fair.

The year following the kidnapping incident, my mom decided she had to go to the Fair. Never mind the fact she had three small children and my cousin Chutney, she decided we would go (she must not have been concerned about locating her large, yellow station wagon - maybe it was easier to spot). She also decided to tie us together with rope.

Yes, she tied us together with rope. I don’t know if that damaged us in some way. Maybe my brothers/cousin have issues with being tied up now, I can only speak for myself. You’d never get away with something like that now, with DHS and all.

I’m still convinced that someone must have seen us at the Fair like that and went on to invent the kiddie-leash.

Just a few things I “didn’t get” at the Fair this year:

1. People with the following thought process. Yes, we JUST had a baby and have left the hospital. Where should we go with our fresh infant? Should we go home and take care of our newborn? I know! Let’s take it to the Fair! I saw three newborns.
I didn't leave my house for three weeks with a baby, but it was winter and I was crazy. That's a whole other post.

2. Ear of corn on a stick, giant turkey legs. I don’t get these. Fried cheese, fried Snickers, french fries (why would I eat something I can eat anytime and don’t), fried corn dog, and fried MASHED POTATOES. Nasty.

I totally understand:

1. Funnel cake. A funnel cake has 24 Weight Watcher points. I was a good Weight Watcher and decided to split one with Nate. I only ended up eating half of my half, which left room for -

2. Cotton Candy. Nate ate the blue, he said it was better; I had the pink (of course).

3. Busting out of our sheltered bubble. Nate went down the giant slide on some sort of large square of fabric. When he was done, he told me that the State Fair employee had used a curse word when conversing with him. I told Nate, like the funnel cakes, there are some things you only get to experience at the Fair. Enjoy!

And the thing I absolutely did GET at the fair:
Riding the “Tower of Power.” I did it three times.


judge not, lest you be judged

I have always been a loyal Walgreens customer. My loyalty is based on the following reasons:

1. The CVS pharmacy across the street is junky.
2. Walgreens is on the "right" side of the street and is easier to get to.

Sure, my loyalty has been tested. That time when I went to pick up my valium in the drive-thru in our beat-up Honda, and the Pharmacy Tech mistook me for a crack-head. Her: You've ALREADY picked up this prescription. Me: Uhhhhh, no I haven't. Back and forth half a dozen times until she realized that I was not a dangerous drug addict and had not already picked up the prescription.

But now, Walgreens has started judging me, and I'm not happy about it.

Earlier this week, when the Pastor thought he was having an aneurysm (yes we went to the ER, yes they did a cat scan) I went to Walgreens to buy some Tylenol. The judging machine, a.k.a. the cash register, automatically spits out a coupon for me to join AARP. What? The Tylenol wasn't even for me!

Today, I went to buy tights. The judging machine automatically spits out a coupon for some sort of super-duper cover-up make-up for unsightly legs.

I am not THAT old and ugly, Walgreens. I buy US Magazine there all the time, and it never spits out some sort of "you are so young and hip you should buy this product" coupon. I don't know what that product would be, probably because I'm not young and hip, but I'm not a geriatric either.

I've noticed everytime Walgreens builds a store here, CVS tries to set up shop on an opposite street corner. They are trying to give Walgreens a run for their money, but with this sort of cruel marketing, CVS needn't worry.


jail, Macy's, funerals and bacon

Yesterday, when I was at Macy's, the Pastor got to do a jailhouse visit to be all pastoral to a guy who is accused of bludgeoning some people to death. Oh, he also got to pray for a just-released inmate who stopped and asked for spiritual intervention because he hadn't pooped in three weeks.

I know what you must be thinking. Gee, Robyn, while the Pastor is providing spiritual guidance and counseling, you are shopping. Your life is vapid and meaningless. But that's not what I think. I just think "I'm glad we got a Macy's. I wish we had a Nordstrom's." That, and "in a few weeks I get to go to Top Shop! Yippee!"

I've heard several reports lately of acquaintances dying. Strangely, the Pastor gets asked to officiate weddings and make jailhouse visits, but not many funerals. But that's fine with me. Wedding outfits are way more fun than funeral outfits, and cake beats funeral food any day.

I find it interesting that funerals seem to be scheduled in such a way to waste people's entire day. How are you supposed to schedule around a mid-morning funeral? My parents went to one yesterday at two in the afternoon. Who wants to go to a funeral on a Friday afternoon? What a downer.

Let the record state, when I die (probably from being bludgeoned to death by some anonymous blog commenter - please no head blows, stick below the belt, that is, my thin, patent leather belt) schedule my service at eight in the morning. Monday morning. Get it over with, go from the funeral to Starbucks, and enjoy the rest of your day. You're welcome!

The Pastor could possibly be a no show, as I have never asked him to speak at my funeral. I think I know what his thought process would be about such things. Am I really going to learn anything NEW about her by going to her funeral? No. She's not going to know, she's dead! What difference does it make? It's all meaningless.

That's fine, but at least take a minute to remember that one day when you wanted a BLT and I made it for you.



turns out

the Pastor DOESN'T need my help when he's preaching

he didn't appreciate those secret hand signals nearly as much as I thought he would

Oh well. He couldn't have been too upset. He still took me to brunch at the German place.


delivered in 30 minutes or less

5 + 6 = 11

Last night, we had 6 extra people over for dinner. We invited some college students who had been on mission trips this summer to have dinner with us and talk to our kiddos about their experiences.

I wanted to order pizza.

Nope. Noooooooooooooooo.

The Pastor didn't feel like pizza was "dinner-ish" enough. He wanted to do everyone makes their own taco salad. That's easy for him to say. Do you know what make your own taco salad means? 82 bowls of individual salad toppings. I didn't actually count, so that may not be exactly right, but that's what it seemed like.

Here's how it went down. I got out of my literature class at 10:40 and went from there to the grocery store. Shopped for the food. Spent a lot of money. Unloaded 82 sacks of groceries. I didn't actually count so that may not be exactly right, but you know they can only put about two items in those plastic sacks. Made a dessert. Got the other food ready . . .

In the end, I only spent about 9 hours on dinner. I did look cute though, in my apron and heels. Sort of like a 1950's housewife wearing dark and stylish jeans and a Bitten t.

There are leftovers. If you want a salad, come on over. And if you don't want a salad, we'll call Papa Johns.


my very exciting Friday night

And I'm not being sarcastic. For once.

I dropped everything and went to where I knew this guy would be hanging out.

He is one of the few men on the face of the earth who can completely boss me around. OK, he may very well be the only one.

Sorry, Pastor.


wide load

I hate Payless.

Visit to store #1 to buy red Kenley button sandals. I saw them in a magazine!

Have in my size, but they are scratched. OH, and it's buy one pair, get the next half off, so I HAVE to find another pair. Have to. Not a problem. Want to buy two pairs of shoes, but guess what? They don't have another non-scratched pair of the red Kenley button sandals.

Am given piece of paper with COUPON if I go purchase the shoes at another Payless. Yes, they tell you what Payless's to go to. Go to Payless #2, and they have the red Kenley button sandals BUT NOT THE OTHER PAIR OF SHOES I WANT. I ask sales lady "do you have these in a 7 NOT wide" to which she replies "that shoe only comes in wide."

Uhhhhhh, nuh uh.

Yes it does. (Yes, please argue with me.)


By this time, I decide to go the route which always makes me happiest, using a machine which allows me to avoid dealing with people. I decide to just go home and order shoes from the www.

Guess what? One of the two pairs - I can't order on-line.

This would only be an actual crisis if I didn't already own like a hundred pair of shoes.


thankfully, he uses his powers for good and not evil

The Pastor and I had joint doctor appointments. The Pastor is freakishly competitive, and it bothered him that my pulse was lower than his. Mine was 64, thank you very much.

So he sits in the doctor's office and wills his pulse to lower to beat me. He managed to get his pulse down one point.

He didn't try to beat my blood pressure though. My blood pressure was something like 91/54. The Pastor said I was "practically dead" and he didn't want any part of that.


belly-dancing mom of middle-schooler

It's official. I am now the mother of a middle-schooler. Somehow, he is old enough to be in the sixth grade, yet I haven't aged a day.

conversation beginning about a half a mile from school this morning:

Nate: Are you going to go inside with me?

Me: It's up to you. It sounds like you have a handle on where you're supposed to go.

Nate: Well, I think some kids will be by themselves and I think some kids will be with their parents, so if you WANT to go inside with me I think that'll be ok.

Of course, I went inside. Probably the last chance I'll get to do that. Fortunately, I had on a cute dress and not the belly dancer outfit I had on yesterday (long story) which I threatened to wear when I drove him to school this morning. Nate was mortified by the belly dancer outfit, but the Pastor seemed to like it.

Nate will be fine. And as for me, I actually made it home before I started to cry, so I guess with the exception of belly dancing outfits I'm starting to grow up too.



I got sick just as soon as I got home.

Stupid allergies!

Stupid re-circulated, contaminated air on airplanes!

Plus it was probably taxing on my immune system. You know, to go from a complete, relaxing vacation, to come home where I have to do absolutely nothing.

I'm almost better. And speaking of naturally, I'm getting my hair highlighted tomorrow. That always makes a girl feel better.


the end

it was a great trip


only with luggage


To a certain friend of mine: do you like my long shorts and my I.N.C. shirt?

Oh, and look at the pearls the Pastor got me.

the pool that runs right into the ocean



the love boat