see how much I like cake

So much so that I will get my own cake, veil or no veil, thank you very much.

It was good cake. (Still have a slice in my fridge.)

Oh, I've already ordered my b-day cake, btw. If it wasn't for cake and presents, I probably wouldn't even have a birthday. I order a red velvet cake with buttercream icing. The lady at the bakery said whatmessagewouldyoulikeonthecake? To which I replied NO MESSAGE! That leaves less room for icing flowers!

should coulda coma

Today is our anniversary. Two years. Can you believe I have blather blah-blahed on this thing for two years now?

Pillow talk, last night. Technically this morning, 6 a.m., when the Pastor climbed into bed after another looooooong night of bible scholar work (Personally, I don't know how he does it. All that deuteronical history would put me right to sleep. In fact, I am yawning just typing about it.):

The Pastor: By they way, you snore.

Me:

The Pastor, being Pastoral: Oh, you know, X Person is in a medically induced coma.

Me: I snore? How do I snore? Is it a cute snore?

The Pastor: Now there's something you can blog about. I'm trying to tell you about someone in a coma, and you are all concerned about how you snore.

*****

I only have one regret about marrying the Pastor. I should have worn another dress. Fabulous Friend, you were right. I could have borrowed your dress, but I was probably too fat.

OK, so regret #2 is that I didn't join Weight Watchers right as soon as the Pastor proposed. We got married three weeks after he proposed, but I probably could have dropped five pounds.

Oh, one more regret, the beautiful coral dress I returned after the Pastor and I decided we couldn't elope. We talked about it, and I got a dress (a really great dress), but apparently when you are a Pastor some church people might frown upon you running off and getting hitched. You have to tell people in advance. Not to mention stuff like that can really freak the kids out.

I shoulda kept that dress though.

a moment on the lips

In case you're wondering, on my birthday, I'm going to be 32.

As far as numbers are concerned, I've decided to start using my bra size instead of my age. Obviously, my bra size is a smaller number, and if the past is any indication of the future, it's not likely to change. Plus, this would be the only circumstance for which I would actually use my bust number with pride.

Nate suggested I use my waist - 26. He's such a good kid.

And if you thought I was going to tell you the hip circumference, well, you're about as likely to find that out as I am to get a job at Hooter's.

politics, anyone?

I know I'm not one to talk about political things on this blog, but we have an important election coming up and I can't keep my mouth shut.

Dad is up for President of the Gun Club.

Yes, that's right, the pacifist Pastor's father-in-law regularly shoots at things. Which is one of the reasons I have a conceal-carry permit, but that is a whole other story.

And the most exciting thing is, if Dad wins, then Mom gets to be First Lady of the Gun Club. And I'd be the President's daughter.

So Vote for Larry!

what not to wear, but what to blog

Greetings from Tulsa, OK. The Pastor is working, and I am in a hotel room, on a king-size bed, blissfully child-free. I have already utilized the hotel fitness center and the room's very large jacuzzi tub. Plus, I had mexican food and a cupcake today. That's what I call a good freakin' day!

things I really really like right now
1. Giving the Pastor personal space so he can finish his important scholarly research about Kings and Judges and Samuel and violence. Blah blah blah. Whatever. Translation: spending lots of time walking around the mall.
2. Very strange book by Amy Sedaris - I Like You. I know I am supposed to underline book titles, but I can't figure out how to underline in blogger. Please don't count off any points for poor grammar.
3. Top Pot donuts, new at my Starbucks.
4. A few days ago, I was really liking cookies from the German bakery, but I liked too many of them as evidenced at my Weight Watchers weekly weigh-in.
5. Cupcakes. If I had to pick a last meal, it would be donuts, cupcakes, cookies and mexican food.
6. Watching "What Not to Wear" - cable television!

things I haven't been liking so much
1. The stupid person at Kinko's, who told me that by making a color copy of the freakin' art certificate my son received from the State Department of Education that I was making an illegal copy, violating copyright laws. To anyone from the State Department of Education who cares, I am sorry and I throw myself at your mercy. But if you arrest me, then how will I get Nate to school?
2. All that personal space the Pastor is needing for his important scholarly work.
3. There are so many step-parenting stories, I wouldn't even know where to begin. I wish they would at least get better at lying if they're not going to stop.
4. The stupid people at the tag agency. People were genuinely surprised they need their insurance verification to get their car tags. I was the only person in the place who actually had their insurance verification.

Tomorrow, while the Pastor works, I will have to spend the day at the mall. It's a rough life.

Oh my friend would be so happy. They just showed a dress I actually own on "What Not to Wear" - I think they filmed at Macy's. I'm so proud of me.

Just a few short weeks left until some of the most important days of the year - Cinco de Mayo and my birthday. My mom was due to have me on Cinco de Mayo, went into labor, but I was born a couple of hours after midnight. Wisely, even then, I knew I wanted an excuse to eat mexican food twice in one week. I know you probably think it's hard for me to be any more self-centered than I already am, but you'd better watch it. On my b-day, I'm worse than usual.

Gotta go. Someone has to jump on this hotel room bed!

Pastoral Message

Dear Pastor,

Just in case you are reading this while you are gone -

1. The Rabbit died.

2. I can't breathe. I thought maybe it would be different this time when I breathed bleach fumes.

3. I've been driving the fuel-inefficient van all week. Haven't driven the Honda once.

4. Not only have I still not cleaned out that red Rubbermaid tote in the garage, I've added more stuff to it.

5. I am not at all concerned about your 20 cent fine at the library. I may just let it ride until the day you come home.

6. I used the credit cards, but you already knew that, didn't you? : )

7. A man held a door open for me today and when I said thank you he said "my pleasure." And believe me, it WAS his pleasure. I look very cute today.

8. Some stuff just isn't the same without you. Like when Mr. Gifted-n-talented was explaining to me about the technology that will allow him to go to Mars, telling me about it while his fly was unzipped.

9, I smell just like cotton candy. At least I think I do, stupid bleach fumes.

10. Well, the bed's a complete mess. I haven't made it. Not even once.

11. I went to the Church of the Jumbotron.

Of course, by "Rabbit" you know I mean the white chocolate one from Godiva. He didn't make it til Easter.

Oh, and unlike your library fine, I very eagerly went to the Post Office to pay the postage due on a parcel. Very excitedly, because I figured it was some sort of anniversary present for me, even though I am such a nice and helpful wife and told you I would take care of that for you. You can imagine my disappointment to learn it was a book about Eichmann, Jerusalem and the Banality of Evil.

I love you and miss you.

a blog dedicated to all the things I love about step-parenting

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the Pastor's idea of fun

See, I did get on a ski lift.

I am only posting this picture because I think my legs look thin in it.

men - such simple creatures

The other night, we had Robyn's famous rotisserie chicken for dinner. You know, the kind they have conveniently prepared for you at the grocery store. Seriously, why would you want to go to the trouble of actually cooking a chicken when the people at the deli have already done it for you, and they only want to charge you $4??? It's genius!

I took the leftover chicken and mixed it with - get this - eggs and mayo. The next day the Pastor had it for lunch on bread and you would have thought I had discovered the cure for cancer or won the lottery or something. Saint Robyn! The man practically bowed at my feet in praise of the chicken salad sandwich.

I think I may have said something to him like IT'S JUST THE LEFTOVER CHICKEN (which I didn't even cook) and MAYO and EGGS (a combination of three things I don't eat). I'm not doing that any more though, if people don't know any better and think it's so fantastic that I managed to assemble somthing like this, and they want to go on and on about how wonderful I am, I'm going to let them.

Just wait til he sees what I do with tuna.

the mountain goat has shin bruises

Back from va-ca.

Someone should tell the Pastor my idea of a vacation doesn't entail a 140-foot vertical ascent on wooden ladders to see an Indian ceremonial cave, which really just looked like your regular sort of cave to me.

"Friends don't let friends teach their friends how to ski"
That's what the sign at the ski resort said. If I had a sign it would say "Don't let the Pastor teach you to ski." I love him dearly, but his style of teaching (shouting HEELS OUT!! HEELS OUT! PUSH YOUR HEELS OUT!) doesn't really work for me. I really enjoyed skiing, but I would have liked to have hired one of those young, handsome private ski instructors to coddle me and speak quietly to me and hold my hands and say things like "make a slice of pizza for me!" Not a husband who just points and laughs when I'm tangled up like a caught fish in the orange nets lining the ski slope.

Up til 2 a.m. packing and cleaning the night before we left. The Pastor had a speaking engagement at a youth conference on the first part of our trip. One night, I let the girls sit somewhere else while he was preaching, and the next day at lunch we received various reports about what the Pastor's children were doing while he was behind the pulpit. And it wasn't listening to the the Pastor. I asked Loretta what her Dad had preached about and she said "uh, uh, uhhhhhh the Bible?"

Finally able to have "vacation" when the speaking engagement was over. Even though two separate destinations meant I had to pack for two separate locations. Suitcases for our church function, and separate suitcases for our ski trip. The ski trip was the part of the vacation where I got to climb on Indian ladders, take a two hour hike wearing rubber flip flops and "ski." Oh, and when I was hiking in flip flops, a lady walked by and said I must be part mountain goat to be able to do that. How does cute footwear and lack of prior knowledge about hiking turn into me being part mountain goat? Changed hotel rooms at the ski resort, which essentially meant I got to re-pack and un-pack everything again. Then I got to come home and do all the laundry.

This afternoon, I went grocery shopping. Based on this book I just read, America's Cheapest Family, I decided to start grocery shopping for an entire month at a time. Why I thought this was a good idea to do immediately upon returning from vacation is beyond me. I wore my I-Pod while grocery shopping, which I think makes the whole experience much more pleasant. Drowns out all the noise that permeates from the stupid people. However, three separate people chose to ignore my ear buds and approach me with questions, requiring me to remove my ear buds. One about peanut butter, one about bread and one about applesauce. Sure, let me remove my ear buds to help you with your shopping.

Nathan got car sick and threw up six times on the way home, yet this was still the best trip we've ever taken with the kids. Coincidentally, it was the first family vacation I didn't get my period on.

The Pastor wants me to note the kids did learn how to ski from him.

phase one complete

We made it from Abilene to Angel Fire.

I did not care for Abilene.

Update.

Now I can add "Cheese Fries" from the Outback in Abilene, Texas to my list below.

I am definitely starting to pick through and look at my food FIRST.

***********

places where I have found hair (not belonging to me) over the course of the past six months where I did not care to have it:

-my hashbrowns
-hot cocoa mix
-package of frozen broccoli
-my salad at a fancy Italian restaurant
-my coffee at Starbucks
-my donut at Starbucks
-in my food at a Korean restaurant, on two separate occassions

I just THOUGHT I was bored.

Then I came to Abilene, Texas.

Now I'm really bored.

Nevermind that I stayed up til two packing EVERYTHING, loading the van and cleaning the house. The only thing the Pastor said to me about packing was "why did you hang these shirts, you should have just folded them."

The Pastor is speaking here at some Nazarenepalooza thing.

The good news is the hotel is in the same parking lot as a Target. Bad news is that it's not one of those Targets that cleverly houses a Starbucks.

walk by my house - I'll toss cheesecake at you

I have finally found my inspiration again. It's amazing how I can find stuff to blog about when I am supposed to be working on our income taxes.

I love living this close to the university. Our dining room faces the street, and college students walk by all the time. When I am at the dining room table, and students walk by, I run outside and offer them random things to eat. Thankfully! I've gotten rid of cheesecake and apple pie that way!

Speaking of cheesecake, just so you know, I am not the only spoiled person in this house. The Pastor decided he liked the cheesecake at On the Border, and sent me to the restaurant supply store to pick some up for him. Seventy dollars later, and I had two giant cheesecakes. We have managed to get rid of one, with me shouting out the front door at random college students.

And speaking of too much cheesecake, there's a biker guy who's been coming to my Weight Watchers meeting. A Harley-riding, black leather, long beard, no-helmet-wearing kind of guy. I think its funny because I just picture big tough biker guy measurig out his portions, counting his points and eating things like 100 calorie cupcakes.

Gotta go. Taxes and packing. Leaving Thursday for Abilene, Texas. If we survive that, then it's on to Angel Fire, New Mexico. Then if we survive that, Santa Fe.

I'm bored.

Cereal Killer

I know I am being a big baby about this, but when has that ever stopped me?

Saturday the Pastor came to me and stated he desired to take us out to a restaurant Saturday night. We normally go out, and had gone out on Friday night, and I had planned to cook that night, but hey – twist my arm.

The prospect of going out that night got me very excited. That and the fact I was writing a paper on the Romantic Period in British Literature and I desired a distraction, so I fixated on daydreaming about my special date with the Pastor (and the girls).

I put on my new Barbie makeup.

I flipped out my hair with my flat iron.

I spent considerable time and effort getting fixed up.

Later that day, the Pastor and I started that conversation, you know the one that goes something like this: “where do YOU want to go eat.” Only this is when the Pastor tells me we are still going out but he is not hungry and he is probably not going to eat. What? It's our special dinner!

At this point I could sense things were unraveling, so I went against my earlier instinct to wear my new, fancy black dress. I did, however, put on dressy jeans, heels and my fuschia satin trenchcoat.

We ended up going to Moe’s, which was really fine with me, except when we got there the Pastor and the girls promptly abandoned me in the burrito line to order the food while they went and sat down in a booth. Still ok at this point, I’d rather not wait in a lengthy line with kids if I don’t have to. But then, I had to pay for my own special date dinner. Not ok. And the Pastor ate, but I’m not supposed hold him accountable for eating when he said he wasn’t going to, because apparently Moe’s has good fish tacos.

That bothered me. It was just like the other night when the Pastor said he wanted to take me out for my beloved $7 ice cream, but then I paid for it. I know all of our money comes from the same place (him) and goes in the same pot (my purse), but there is a different connotation when I have to pull money out to pay for certain things. Plus, at the end of the month when I’m over budget, well we’d better not go there. The trip to Moe’s and the $7 ice cream isn’t going to be the thing that makes me go over budget, now Is it? (Barbie makeup) But it’s the principle of the thing.

Moving on.

14 cups of cereal

Friday night we went grocery shopping, which doesn’t sound like fun, but it was at Super Target so it was. We (The Pastor) allowed the girls to each choose a box of cereal. That was FRIDAY night. Fast-forward to SUNDAY. That means the girls had the opportunity to eat the cereal for breakfast Saturday and Sunday morning.

Each box of cereal originally contained 10 cups of cereal. When I picked up one of the boxes off the counter Sunday morning, it was amazingly light. Further investigation revealed large quantities of cereal missing.

For various reasons, we have been working with the girls on their eating habits, doing things like trying to set a good example (except when I am eating 4 pieces of cake at a wedding), exercising and encouraging healthy lifestyles. We have talked to them about what is a serving size and had taught them for breakfast to measure out a cup of cereal and half a cup of milk amd that is your serving of milk and cereal and your breakfast. Voila!

Silly me. When I would see the cereal bowls and the measuring cups in the sink, it would make me happy. Kids are doing what they are supposed to be doing!

Well apparently, Loretta had decided she no longer liked using the measuring cup. I’m not sure what the other one’s excuse was. Someone had used the measuring cup because it was in the sink.

And out of the two boxes of cereal, exactly 14 cups of cereal were missing. Which means between the two girls, each had consumed 7 cups of cereal over a two-day span. And the worst part, is that before we even knew how much cereal she had eaten, Loretta had been lamenting about her starvation to the Pastor (who hadn't even eaten breakfast that day), wondering when we would be going out to dinner. AND WE HAD TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THIS ON THE SABBATH.

There is no day of rest in parenting.

yes, I bought it

http://www.maccosmetics.com/templates/collections/collection.tmpl?CATEGORY_ID=CATEGORY20395

hair hair everywhere

places where I have found hair (not belonging to me) over the course of the past six months where I did not care to have it:

-my hashbrowns
-hot cocoa mix
-package of frozen broccoli
-my salad at a fancy Italian restaurant
-my coffee at Starbucks
-my donut at Starbucks
-in my food at a Korean restaurant, on two separate occassions

And my beloved whipped peanut butter, the only peanut butter I have ever loved in my entire life, has salmonella! What is this world coming to?

Valentine's Ball, II

Valentine's Ball

my valentine

This was the same day as the Valentine's Ball. This would technically be the "before" picture - before the hair up-do and the make-up. I thought I liked this shirt. Cute, sporty shirt with random numbers on it! Then I realized the numbers aren't so random - it's the number I will be on my next birthday.

No grand prize for me and THE PASTOR, but he's still my Dr. McDreamy

The Pastor and I went to an event last night. The Pastor and I were part of the entertainment at the event. The Pastor and I were contestants on a rendition of "The Newlywed Game." The Pastor got the incorrect answer to the following question:

What is your wife's nick-name for you?

Uhhhhhh, let's see. Could it be THE PASTOR???????

Actually, I have two nick-names for him. Professor Hot T. McHotstuff and THE PASTOR. The Pastor being the most popular of the two, hence over 500 blog entries about THE PASTOR on the I MARRIED THE PASTOR blog. Does he not read this thing?

His guess was "My Lord." I think he just wanted to get a reaction from the crowd with that one.

I do call him that sometimes. But only on very special occasions.

We came in 4th place, out of four couples.

6 weeks of ugly

only to find out I am NOT a candidate for laser eye surgery.

The good news? All that money we set aside in our Section 125 medical spending account! Yippee!!! Hmmm, wonder what kind of plastic surgery I can have instead?

Or perhaps this is a divine message that I should have a baby instead?

for deposit only

"Meaningless, said the teacher. It's all meaningless."

The Pastor thinks it is completely stupid for me to be making a Valentine box. He said it is dumb and pointless. Where else are people going to put my Valentine's? I told him it is no more meaningless than his doctoral dissertation on the violent patterns of kingship in ancient Israel.

We are in bed. The Pastor is reading some biblical commentary on Hosea and Micah. I didn’t even know those were books of the Bible. He is reading his book by the light of his rechargeable flashlight.

Things the Pastor has ruined me on, forever:

1. I used to be a very careful shopper. Once I purchased something, it was a permanent decision. Now, since marrying the Pastor, I know that everything is returnable! It’s easier to buy the whole store and take it back later than to agonize over purchasing decisions.

2. I used to think I was too good to shop at Goodwill.

3. Eating past 5 p.m.

4. We went to a restaurant today, and I really wanted nachos (cholesterol alert!), but now I am so cheap I got the special – a one-topping pizza (cholesterol!), which was priced $3 less than the nachos.

5. Showering alone.

6. I used to think I could only drive a brand-new vehicle. Now I know the beauty of being able to park anywhere, because I don’t care if anything should happen to a car that is dented on every single panel.

7. Waking up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready to go to work.

8. The big, fancy church, with the coffee bar conveniently located in the lobby. (Actually, I do kind of miss that.)

9. Reading the Bible. Now I know that is for expert Bible Scholars only! No amateurs allowed!

10. Having a pristine oven. I lived in my condo for nearly two years, and Nate was the only one who ever cooked anything, and his cuisine usually amounted to pancakes and scrambled eggs.

Thing I have ruined the Pastor on, forever:

The only thing he could come up with is he used to never order desserts in a restaurant. Now, he knows we are ordering the $7 piece of cake.

Oh what a difference I have made in his life.

 
This is the Pastor. I've hacked into my wife's account.

As I came home today, she was simply backing out of the driveway.

Simply . . . backing . . .

straight out of the driveway.

Notice her tire tracks from this simple procedure . . . and next time she is on the road, be afraid, be very, very afraid.

high cholesterol, senior citizen discounts, acne & prom dresses, but at least there is no silver lining

My clock is ticking.

Sadly, it's not even my biological clock. It's my other ticker - my heart.

I went to the eye doctor today, and he said he could tell by looking at my eyeballs my cholesterol is probably high and I need to get it checked.

It's really freaky he can tell that from looking at my eyeballs. What else does he know about me now?

Serves me right. That's what I get for blogging about my love of cake. Now I get to go get my cholesterol checked.

Plus, I had an awful dream this week. I had a dream Nate and I were at Wal-Mart checking out. I had apparently been exercising and was dressed in my work-out gear. The checker totalled up my purchases and said "that'll be $x.xx with your senior citizen's discount." I left the store, horrified about being mistaken as a senior citizen and feeling as though I must look hideous.

The cholesterol and the horrid dream is a nice climax of just feeling unattractive in general over the past few weeks. I hate wearing my glasses. I have to exercise for an hour every day just to maintain the number I don't even like on the scale. I eat all this healthy food and I don't even eat bacon or have real soda and I may be a ticking time bomb anyway. A college student called me Mrs. (insert Pastor's last name here) the other day. I feel like I'm getting old and falling apart. Except, of course, for the fact that I'm never going to get my skin to clear up.

I've been on the quest for perfect skin for a while now. OK, 21 years.

Stuff has been on an insane clearance at the mall. 80% off. With the Pastor's job at the University, we attend any formal event we can, because they are fun and I like to play dress up. Last week, I bought three formal dresses on clearance. We have a Valentine's Ball coming up in a couple of weeks, and we'll go to the Prom in the Spring so I'm set for dresses (as long as I don't gain any weight or get invited to too many weddings that serve cake). And, as an added bonus, if I do suffer a heart attack and die soon, at least there will be something pretty and sparkly to bury me in.

All this to say I'm 35 years old, I apparently need to be slightly more concerned about stroking out, I can't even worry about the fact that all my eggs are dying, yet I still have acne and shop for prom dresses.

That's just sad, but at least I'm not gray.

i like cake

A list of all the things that prove I am a cake-o-holic:

1. My bum.

2. When I worked for a big company, there was some retirement party or something going on all the time that involved cake. I would not only go and get a piece, I'd also drag along some co-worker who didn't want or couldn't have a piece of cake because they were diabetic or on diet, and I'd make them get a piece of cake so I could have two.

3. I have perfected a system with the Pastor anytime we go to an event - I go to the dessert table and get two pieces of cake. "Oh I'll just get one for my husband because I'm such a sweet wife!" Then I will send the Pastor to the dessert table to do the same thing. That gives me four pieces.

4. I love weddings. It's not about two people binding their lives to one another. I could just care less. I go for one reason and one reason only. Cake. Good bakery cake with the really bad-for-you icing.

However, I went to a wedding once that was a total let-down. There was no cake, but "Love Knots" (think cinnamon rolls). Love Knots are NOT an adequate substitute for cake.

The last wedding I went to had some of the best wedding cake I've ever had. I had four pieces, but that really doesn't count, because those cake cutters always psychotically cut teeny-weeny pieces, and then at the end there's like half the cake left, which I always think is so stupid. (At my wedding, I got a huge cake and I cut giant pieces.) At the four piece wedding, I sent my step-children up to the cake table to retrieve extra pieces of cake for me. So not only am I consuming large quantities of cake, I am too lazy to actually get up and get it myself. For days after the wedding, I walked around mutterring "that was some good cake." I actually even thought about calling the newlyweds to see if I could raid the leftovers. I do have some pride though.

I'm sad about the fact that I reconnected with a girlfriend of mine AFTER her wedding to a dandy guy. She's got great taste, and I'm sure she had a fabulous cake at her wedding.

5. Even better than being invited to a wedding, is when the Pastor is asked to officiate. That makes me really happy, because then I get to eat cake and he gets a paycheck. What could be better?

6. I always ask for a corner piece.

7. I still have a shrine of my own wedding cake, preserved in a Tupperware container in my fridge. I'm not quite sure why, but it was really good cake and I can't bear to part with it. After 21 months of marriage, it doesnt even have anything growing on it. Cake must really be healthy huh? It doesn't even mold.

A list of all the things that prove I have a sad little life:
1. I've composed an entire blog entry about my love of cake.

maybe if their names had been inscribed on stone tablets

The Pastor can't remember the names of the four main characters in Sex and the City. He can usually get three out of four.

Me, I can't remember all of the Ten Commandments. I can get about 8 before I get all confused. But I do have a Ten Commandment bracelet in case there comes a day when I have some sort of a Ten Commadment emergency and don't care about wearing stylish jewelry. It is kind of nice - the bracelet has little dangling tablets, one for each commandment. Commandments on a bracelet have a jingle/jangle to them.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Did you know PTSD wasn't originally linked with soldiers returning home from battle? It was actually first attributed to women who were forced to spend snow days trapped inside a house with children, unable to leave for several consecutive days.

We survived WINTERSTORM2007! My thoughts:
1. Being married to a weather man would probably be the worst thing ever. Those guys get way way way to excited about the weather. Did we really need constant coverage? Some of us have no cable channels!
2. It was wrong of the schools to cancel school for 5 consecutive days.
3. I ate everything that was in the house, except for the children.
4. I am extremely thankful for the make-your-own-Cinnamon-Dolce-Latte-kit from Starbucks.

I know he meant it as a compliment, but -
I just can't shake this one. A couple of weeks ago, remember, I was "crazy smuckers pb&j uncrustable sandwich making lady." Last week, the children got to eat some of those sandwiches. As a very nice, sweet thing to say, the Pastor told me "You did a REALLY GOOD JOB making those sandwiches for the kids!"

Uhhhh, thanks. I didn't know what to say. I don't even think I really said think you. What was going through my head was that I used to be a manager with 23 direct reports and now someone is acting like it's a big deal that I mastered pb&j??? That I used to put together major fraud cases, and I was even responsible for people serving jail time, and now I am getting complimented for a sandwich? I've been thinking about this ever since he said it, and I'm sure he's not given it another thought.

The Pastor was very sweet to say it though. He was also sweet at the end of the snow days. He suprised me with the February in Style magazine (the first magazine I've read all year!) and a VALENTINE CARD. I know it's special when he buys me a card, I think he's only bought me two cards the whole time we've been together. Ive only bought him one card, and I just keep giving it to him over and over again.

do not pass go, do not collect recipes, proceed directly to trashy panty store

There's a fine line between domestic goddess and domestic tragedy.

I wasn't really concerned about myself the other day when I decided to make enchiladas. The amazing thing was, I had all the ingredients ON HAND, IN MY PANTRY AND FRIDGE, to whip up a batch of fabulous sour cream/green chile/cheese enchiladas.
And, I'm such a genius in the kitchen, it only took me twenty minutes to make them!

I started to get a little concerned when I took two loaves of bread and had a marathon school lunch making session, making my own "home-made" version of Smuckers brand Uncrustable pb&j sandwiches.

I became extremely concerned when I felt bad about the thought of just throwing away the leftover bread crusts from above-mentioned no-crust pb&j sandwiches.

I knew I had completely lost it when I googled bread pudding recipes.

At that point, I left the house. I proceeded immediately to a mall far, far away to shop at Fredericks of Hollywood. I had to go to a mall far, far away so that no one would recognize my Nazarene self at a trashy panty store. Not really, that just happens to be where the only Fredericks of Hollywood is located. Then, I started to feel more like myself again.

Did I mention I made home-made vanilla syrup to top the bread pudding?

All the things I ate yesterday:
-donut
-tortilla soup
-tortilla chips
-tortilla
-sopapilla
-thai yellow curry potatoes and tofu with WHITE RICE
-better batter ice cream with chunks of chocolate chip cookie dough mixed in

That's just so you know, for next week when I'm whining about not losing more weight at Weight Watchers.

The difference between me and the Pastor:
Him - piles of stuff all over the place, not a problem. Bed, slightly askew, huge problem.
Me - piles of stuff all over the place, huge problem. Bed, slightly askew, not a problem.

sparkly kung-fu fighter

Still in bed. In the Pastor's bathrobe. He's gone to teach this morning.

Last night, I got to see my cousin's little boy. He's 23 months old. This kid is by far the cutest kid in the whole wide world. Trust me, I don't like very many kids, but I like this one a lot lot lot lot lot.

I will call the kid Lantern to protect his privacy. Lantern reeled me in when he admired my White House Black Market bracelet. He kept saying "Sparkly!" Last night, he actually took my bracelet, held it up to his cheek, hugging it and physically loving my sparkly bracelet. The kid definitely knows the way to my heart.

After I hung out with Lantern last night, I had a dream that I was babysitting him and I had to lay him down for a nap. It was hard for me to find a place for him to nap, but I finally found a safe cabinet for him to nap in. While the baby was napping, ninjas kept trying to attack us. I used my kung-fu skills to ward off all the ninjas, and when I was fighting them I kept saying things like THE BABY IS SLEEPING!

So, if anyone is interested, I may in fact be a pretty good babysitter.

Video killed the Bible scholar

We are in bed. The Pastor has his laptop and I have mine. I, my dear, am writing. He is watching a video – a very bad video – about experiencing God. I’m thinking someone didn’t tell the people in the video they were going to be filmed because they didn’t dress up. One lady is slouching in her seat (an Old Testament Professor) and another is in much need of a good support bra.

For those of you who wanted to marry me in Catholic ceremony, good news! I am no longer married to my first husband in the eyes of the Catholic Church. The day my divorce was final, I mailed in the annulment paperwork. Since then, I've heard back from the tribunal a few times - they didn’t have everything they wanted (probably money), stuff that was out of my control to get. Blah, blah, blah. I finally gave up on it, and now my annulment has magically been granted. But for those of you desiring to marry me in a Catholic setting, bad news! Where have you been? I married Pastor McDreamy 20 months ago! You are too late!

I went to Weight Watchers today. Last week, when I weighed, I had not weighed in three weeks over the holidays. Over that three week period, I gained 2.2 pounds. So this past week I was a very good girl and I followed the program and I exercised every day, and I only lost .6. Ugh.

This video is astounding. I just learned that Jesus was Jewish.

Michael, I made a resolution that I would write everyday. I didn’t make a resolution that you would get to read what I wrote everyday. :) I’m also working on my fabulous novel. So far I got about a page written before the Pastor interrupted me. Tonight when it was time to write, there he was bugging me again, But now I have occupied him with a video. It’s kind of like distracting a small child with a Barney video. Sit here and be a good boy and watch your movie!

OK, now the Pastor is over there babbling about how Greek Biblical texts look pretty. He's got me beside him, yet he thinks the texts are pretty.

goodnight.

recommended daily allowance

If you are one of the lucky readers who read my post this morning, then you got to read about the slight disagreement between me and the Pastor. If you didn't read my blog this morning, then you missed out, because I pulled the post. But, just so you'll be up to speed I will just say 1. the Pastor and I had a disagreement 2. in blogging about it I completed my daily writing requirement as per my New Year's resolution, and 3. the most important thing: I was right. Anyone who disagrees with me, well, they can start their own blog, where they can always be right.

Ugly Robyn

I've exercised the past two mornings - instead of in the evening like I normally do. I've walked for an hour each morning after I drop Nate off at school. But then I feel like I am starving all day and I seem to have hurt my foot somehow. I'm not sure if it is an exercise related injury or if it was the high heels I wore yesterday. For that matter, everyday.

I've been doing good on my bubble bath resolution. I think I've taken one just about every day. It's not a hard resolution to keep.

I'm really ugly right now because I'm wearing my big, thick glases. I'm having laser eye surgery in two weeks so I have to wear my glasses til then. That's right, I'm hobbling around on my gimp foot and I'm wearing ugly glasses. The picture just keeps getting prettier and prettier. And I ate a cupcake and mexican food today, so I'm probably fat now too.

The Pastor spent the entire evening in the crawl space of our rent houses. I doubt he sympathizes with me about any of these important issues.

free association with Robyn

I am writing

1. because it is 10:40 p.m. and I just remembered I made a resolution to write every day and I hadn't written yet, and
2. I have been laying in bed for quite a while kissing on the Pastor and talking sweet to him but he is not paying attention to me because he is thinking about squirrels.

I wish I didn't feel like such a hag of a step mommy all the time. But I also wish that people wouldn't start every single sentence with "uh" and I wish people would wipe when they use the toilet.

We had people over for dinner last night. They weren't coming over til 5:30 and I was making meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I've made meatloaf and mashed potatoes a time or two in my life, so I had a pretty good idea of the preparation time involved.

I was getting my hair done in the afternoon (by the way, I have a swooping side bang now) and the Pastor calls me to inquire why the meatloaf is not cooked. Well, because it's only 2 in the afternoon and it's not dinnertime yet!

Then later the Pastor comes home when I am cooking and starts asking things like is that going to be done in time? Finally after several such inquiries about various things in the kitchen I explained to him that he was in MY office. My domain. I don't go into his office and say things like are you really going to lecture about that? Are you really going to talk about Martin Buber AGAIN? I don't give him sermon advice. Well, I did last Sunday and I stand by my opinion that the sermon I planned was much better than his, even if his featured Evil Knievel. But that's a whole other story.

Oh, I see how it works. Now that I am no longer paying attention to the Pastor and I am writing he is wanting to distract me.

2 more resolutions

-Go to Washington, D.C. That is, if this resolution is ok with D.C. friend.
-Have an outing at least once a month with Dr. Friend. That is, if this resolution is ok with her!

My New Year's Resolutions

1. Read. Always have a book that I am in the process of reading.
2. Not buy one single copy of Us Magazine.
3. When people ask me what I do for a living, I will no longer answer "nothing." I will tell people I am a writer.
4. Write every single day. Even if I have nothing to write. If I have nothing to write, I will write that I have nothing to write. If nothing else, when I tell people that I am a writer, I will also be able to say that I'm on "deadline."
5. Take a bubble bath at least once a week.

I'm just getting started here people. Not feeling good today, but I couldn't let the day past without at least starting my resolutions.

6. Lose 20 pounds. Just kidding! Ha!

Enough for now. Time for NyQuil.

Me, the Pastor & my bum

And appropriately enough, this picture was taken outside of a mexican restaurant.

I Married a Monkey

Santa was at In and Out Burger

Happy Flu Year

Feeling sorta flu-ish tonight, but here's a pic of what the Pastor got me for Christmas. No, I didn't have this on a wish-list, the Pastor knew this is my favorite painting so he got me a reproduction. Pretty cool, huh?

I must have been a very good girl this year.

I got him just what he wanted - absolutely nothing.

dress, circa 1985

Me and the Pastor.

Do you like my Christmas dress? I wore it to the Christmas dance in 1985. Therefore, we can either call it

1. "Vintage"
2. Really, really, cool that I could fit into it.
3. Just plain sad.

The Pastor is wearing the matching bow tie and cummerbund.

latest family photo

showlders

It's that special time of year. The time of year when I once again have to figure out what to wear to a Nazarene holiday party.

I went shopping yesterday. I ended up with pants from The Limited. Drew fit, black, with just a sheen of gold. And a gold lace halter top. Beautiful lace. Not metallic gold, a muted gold. Very nice looking.

So I thought. I get home, pull the top out of the bag (mistake!) and say sweetie what do you think of this? (mistake!)

Well, it would show your shoulders.

What? What's wrong with my shoulders? Are the provocative?

I've never heard a guy say "she has really sexy shoulders." Or is there some underground shoulder fetish thing I'm not aware of? I must admit I personally find my shoulders attractive because it's not an area of my body that's prone to fatness. No shoulder fat!

But the Pastor (guess I should say The Pastor since I said The Limited) said with the people we will be around, it's probably not wise for me to be showing my shoulders. I told him that I figured everyone would probably be relieved to finally see me in something that wasn't strapless.

Who wants to go to a party where you can't show your shoulders? Who wants to socially hang around with people who are offended by shoulders?

I had not tried on the outfit. I hardly ever try anything on, which I'd like to think is because I'm such an expert I can just eyeball it. (Well, you can always return it.) I resigned myself that I would take it back today and get somehing else I'd seen - a lavendar sweater wrap dress. OK, just a shade darker than lavender but not so dark that it's purple. But I tried the halter top outfit on today, and it looks quite lovely, even though my shoulders show. It's just a halter top! I have on PANTS with it. It's not like I'm naked.

I went back to the mall and got the wrap dress. I didn't return the halter top outfit. I don't know which I'm going to keep or wear.

Isn't this exciting? I'm sure you'll be in all kinds of suspense.

Then we went to Sephora and the Pastor bought me trashy eye makeup. I'm not sure why it's ok for me to trick up my eyes, but my naked shoulders are a potentially bad thing, but whatever.

I won't be going to the mall again anytime soon with the Pastor. I found out he is completely susceptible to the marketing techniques of the middle eastern entrepreneurs who own the hand lotion kiosk. But I must say, my hands do look fabulous.

newest member of our family

new fridge = 27 trips to appliance store and 41 hours of my life I'll never get back

if it ain't broke

In 28 months of kissing, the Pastor has never said anything about my breath. Never.

Not when I have had coffee, and he hates coffee. Not in the morning. Not after all the mexican food I have eaten, and I eat a lot lot lot of mexican food.

Until now. Last night, I brushed my teeth before bed with my brand new toothpaste. I got into bed and the kissing started. The Pastor stopped and said

your breath is weird

You have got to be kidding me. The name of my brand new toothpaste? Kiss Me Mint! I succummed to the clever advertising! If I buy this toothpaste, he will want to kiss me! Well the only time he HASN'T wanted to kiss me was when I used this toothpaste.

I'm back with my baking soda and peroxide toothpaste.