robyn reviews stuff for your convenience

Robyn's fabulous movie reviews

Since I started hanging around the Pastor some four years ago, I've drastically decreased my movie viewing. But over the course of the past week, I've managed to see three movies: What Happens in Vegas, Made of Honor and Sex and the City.

All good. I would be unable to pick a favorite between Made of Honor and Sex and the City - I'm a die-hard SATC fan, but Patrick Dempsey without his shirt on? SATC vs. Patrick Dempsey? Wouldn't it be nice if they made one more film that combined the two and I didn't have to pick? Kind of like a cinematic Reese's Peanut Butter Cup?

There was one odd moment at the beginning of SATC where this old man sat next to me and was convinced I was sitting where his wife had been sitting and that I hadn't been sitting in that same chair for twenty minutes eating most of my popcorn before the movie even started. But I won't hold that against my SATC review because I'm pretty sure no one connected with the film had anything to do with that guy.

What was up with SATC? The microphone - what's that thing called? The boom? Was in a ton of the shots. Very distracting. I enjoyed the movie, but movies are expensive and don't even get me started on the popcorn. I kept telling myself "just ignore it" and "pretend its not there." Call me old fashioned, but I figure if I'm going to pay that much, the movie should at least be edited. If I could find someone to give me my money back based on having to look at the mic, I would.

I was all smug about the cute little outfit I wore to the movies. Dark blue skinny denim crops, pink strapless sparkly Express top, silver snakeskin heels. Smug until I got undressed at 10:00 p.m. and realized the shirt I had been wearing to many places all day still had the size sticker on the front. How did this escape me? The only thing I can figure, based on the stickers placement, is that the sticker was shielded from my view by my enormous breasts.

Robyn's book review

Yes, I read. Rather, I look at cookbooks with pictures and recipes.

I recently got "Eat This Not That." I'm not sure what's wrong with me. Maybe my body is craving some nutrients I'm missing with my vegetarian ways. This book doesn't make me want to eat healthy things. When I see the pictures of Outback Cheese Fries or KFC, I want to make bad choices. Plus I learned my favorite dessert at Chili's (Chocolate Chip Paradise Pie!!!) is like eating three Big Macs. I haven't been to Chili's in a long time, but after seeing/reading that in my book, I nearly went to Chili's.

Another book I have recently obtained is the "Hungry Girl" book. So far, not so good. I've tried one recipe, and it didn't make me want to try more. it was a recipe for fudge using a brownie mix and a can of pumpkin. The recipe appealed to me because it had just a few ingredients and it is fudge. The tagline of the recipe said something about "yes we know its weird to make fudge out of a brownie mix." Uhhhhhh, no. Because fudge is chocolate and brownies are chocolate. Its weird to make fudge out of pumpkin. But hey, I was willing to give it a shot.

Turns out fudge made out of pumpkin mix turns out about how you'd think fudge made out of a brownie mix would turn out.


there is a God and she cares for me

Sitting in the theatre waiting for Sex and the City to start!


happy Memorial Day indeed

The most wonderful thing happens where I live on Memorial Day weekend.

Firemen stand on street corners, in their firemen outfits, and collect money for charity in empty firemen boots. Once you have given a contribution, they give you a sticker to stick inside your windshield so they don't continue to ask you for donations as your pull up to various intersections.

This event led to the following conversation with the Pastor while driving:

him: What's this sticker for? Did you give money?

me: Absolutely.

him: Why?

me: Sweetie, if a decent looking girl stood on a street corner in a schoolgirl outfit collecting money for charity, wouldn't you pull out your spare change?

him: Yeah.

me: Well, these were firemen.


What is it about firemen anyway? Are they all good looking, or is it just by some coincidence that they put the handsome ones on the corner this weekend?

Incidentally, I'm throwing my sticker away. They can hold a boot out to me as much as they want.


I think I can

blog from my new I Phone.

Don't know what to say though. I am just sitting in the car waiting on the Pastor. Its nice to have a new toy to entertain myself with.


date night

Did we go see "Baby Mama" or "Made of Honor" you might wonder?

No. We went to see "O Jerusalem" at the art museum.

The Pastor did try to take me to get Tres Leches cake after, but the restaurant mysteriously said they are no longer making it even though I ate it there last week. Hmmmm.

Then we came home and started the James Marsden double feature - "Enchanted" and "27 Dresses." The Pastor and I both fell asleep before the opening cartoon sequence in "Enchanted."


the myth of scarcity

When we were in Costa Rica, the Pastor taught a class on Christian stewardship and the environment.

Since I was there without a whole lot else to do in the rainforest, I sat in on parts of the class and the Pastor made me read one of the books for the class Serve God Save the Planet by Matthew Sleeth.

One of the things Dr. Sleeth talks about in his book is the myth of scarcity. This is basically the misconception that some people (me) think that there is not enough food to go around, so they hoard the food when in actuality there is plenty of food, the hoarded food rots and people without food starve. Dr. Sleeth wrote a very good book, but I'm guessing he was never unable to obtain whipped peanut butter.

Most of the time I don't understand what the heck the Pastor is talking about. But I completely understand the myth of scarcity.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Last year on the birthday, I requested that Mom not bake me a cake but oatmeal cookies instead. She did, and buying into the myth of scarcity, I did what any *normal* person would do. I hid the cookies. I rationed the cookies out to myself around my birthday. I probably only rationed them because, let's face it, they weren't the only cookies I was eating and there may have also been cake. The oatmeal cookies that I was too full to eat were secretly sealed in the deep freeze for me to enjoy all year long. Or, for me to rub in the face of my brothers in case Mom would have died sometime during the year. (Yes, Mom is gone, but look! I still have her cookies! So suck on that!!!!!)

I enjoyed a cookie here and there, up until about ten days ago when I realized I still had plenty of cookies left, my birthday was coming up and Mom would be making me more cookies. I no longer had to buy in to the myth of scarcity.

Mom brought over a new batch yesterday. I did share two, which was, I think, very big of me. Have I learned anything from the Pastor and Dr. Sleeth? The rest will probably end up in the deep freeze, with the single serving slices of cherry pie Mom made me for Valentine's Day. Ha! I've been holding out on you!!!

And the best part? I keep typing myth of scarcity myth of scarcity myth of scarcity hopeful that someday some theologian or smart person will be googling the myth of scarcity and instead of getting useful information will get my blog entry about pie and cookies.


lost in translation

things the Asian tailor lady said to me: (as you read you may want to read with an Asian accent if that helps)

-You have sexy body!
-Look at that! You must work out all the time! All the time!
-When I was working on your dress and my daughters saw it, they thought that you were a black woman because of how I was taking it in! But I said no! She's a white woman!
-You look like a model!
-You have tiny, tiny waist and biiiiiiig hips!
-Have you had butt implants?

I simultaneously feel complimented/violated/offended.

If anyone knows of a good tailor, let me know. I'm looking.


May Day

Once upon a time, there was a boy who cried wolf. He grew up and became a weatherman.

I have lived where I live all my life. As a result, I have become completely oblivious to the tornado sirens. I no longer care. I figure if a tornado hasn't gotten me yet, I'm safe.

The last time the sirens blew, I was working on the computer and Nate was doing something else. He said "Mom, is the tornado siren going off?" I said "nah" and just kept right on working. Next day I found out it was in fact the tornado siren going off. People ran for shelter! Me, I ignored my child's fears and kept on surfing the web (I still had an internet signal!!!). We lived.

I can only think of one time in the past decade the tornado warnings have actually forced me to seek shelter. It was after the Pastor and I got married, and I wasn't sure what was worse: possible tornado, or being trapped in a basement with the children. We lived.

Tonight, I was at Nate's band concert. The tornady (yes I spelled it like that on purpose) sirens started blowin', even though the tornady was no where close to us. It did tick me off though - if the tornado would have blown through and I would have died at a band concert and that would have sucked. I don't want to go like that. At least I had on a cute outfit - navy blue pencil skirt, red pumps, red/white polka dot blouse. I didn't get really angry until I rushed home to watch "The Office" only to find out that the only thing I would be watching tonight is the weather. I'm sorry people lost their outbuildings and the roof of their mobile home, but I wanted to see "The Office."

And if the tornado would have blown through, I would have really been in trouble getting my clothes blown off. I went commando today. Mom raised me better than that. She always said to wear clean underwear in case of an accident or natural disaster.