12.27.2007
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."
priceless
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.
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.
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.
12.26.2007
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 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.
ho
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.
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.
12.19.2007
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.
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.
12.17.2007
seven
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!
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!
12.10.2007
all dressed up and no where to ho ho ho
NPR
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments