The illuminated being is either Jason Castro or Jesus Christ. I'm not sure.
9.09.2008
its times like this
When I can actually think a teeny tiny part of him looks like me. Unfortunately, it's only the part holding the dessert plate.
9.07.2008
saith the Pastor
"I don't understand why you are huffy with me just because I was unkind to you today."
Go figure.
Then he probably will also not understand that Discover card transaction at J Crew.
His Ph.D. wasn't in women's studies.
Go figure.
Then he probably will also not understand that Discover card transaction at J Crew.
His Ph.D. wasn't in women's studies.
9.01.2008
Exodus 9
In bed.
Apparently, I am competing with Exodus 9 tonight.
Guess I should look that one up. Must be one heck of a Biblical Text chapter.
Apparently, I am competing with Exodus 9 tonight.
Guess I should look that one up. Must be one heck of a Biblical Text chapter.
8.27.2008
Holly and the threesome
The Pastor Professor's first day of school was today. When he asked his students to say something they learned this summer, a newlywed remarked she had learned she could maybe, probably live with a boy.
Later this afternoon, I stopped by the Pastor Professor's new office, which he considers to be some sort of holy shrine. He wants you to take your shoes off before you enter. He won't let you set a large Pepsi icee on his desk. He asked me if I had any idea how tranquil and peaceful it felt to have your space so organized.
As a matter of fact, I recall such a feeling. It was about four weeks ago, when he was in Israel and there was not a speck out of place in my home. But strangely - mysteriously - over the past few weeks, piles of books, clothes, Mountain Dew cans and miscellaneous debris have slowly accumulated, blocking out my peace and tranquility.
But back to his office. Is there a picture of Robyn by herself? No. Are there only pictures of Robyn with the Pastor? Yes. Are there any big pictures of Robyn? No. Aren't I as proportionally important as that frame holding his Ph.D.?
But HOLLY has a picture by herself. HOLLY, some high school girlfriend. HOLLY, who's picture turned up when it mysteriously fell out of some old book he was allegedly discarding. He'd put HOLLY'S found picture out to see if I'd notice. I did. And I thought I was the Pastor's first blonde love after Smurfette.
As I leave his office to go home, I get a text message that says "move out" - what? What's up with that? Turns out he was sending a rather long text message to someone else and he forwarded it to me, so I'd know what was going on, but the message came to me in two parts. Out of order I had received the tail end of the message.
Then I had the pleasure of calling Satan's Minion's working at the cable company. God forbid - me, the lady of the house, might have a question about her husband's affairs. Shouldn't I be making dinner or vacuuming? It was beyond comprehension for multiple cable company employees that I might have a different last name as my husband. I'm the one who set up the account! Believe me, the Pastor would never have authorized a DVR! Don't you people know how lucky you are? One of the employees actually told me maybe, probably I should have changed my name to his to avoid confusion. I ended up three-waying the conversation, calling the Pastor who had to give me permission to talk about our account. So much for feeling like the empowered, modern woman who kept her name and identity. But I did get a credit on our account.
Some people may have figured out they can maybe, probably live with a boy. Me, I'm not so sure. The DVR box is easier to figure out.
Later this afternoon, I stopped by the Pastor Professor's new office, which he considers to be some sort of holy shrine. He wants you to take your shoes off before you enter. He won't let you set a large Pepsi icee on his desk. He asked me if I had any idea how tranquil and peaceful it felt to have your space so organized.
As a matter of fact, I recall such a feeling. It was about four weeks ago, when he was in Israel and there was not a speck out of place in my home. But strangely - mysteriously - over the past few weeks, piles of books, clothes, Mountain Dew cans and miscellaneous debris have slowly accumulated, blocking out my peace and tranquility.
But back to his office. Is there a picture of Robyn by herself? No. Are there only pictures of Robyn with the Pastor? Yes. Are there any big pictures of Robyn? No. Aren't I as proportionally important as that frame holding his Ph.D.?
But HOLLY has a picture by herself. HOLLY, some high school girlfriend. HOLLY, who's picture turned up when it mysteriously fell out of some old book he was allegedly discarding. He'd put HOLLY'S found picture out to see if I'd notice. I did. And I thought I was the Pastor's first blonde love after Smurfette.
As I leave his office to go home, I get a text message that says "move out" - what? What's up with that? Turns out he was sending a rather long text message to someone else and he forwarded it to me, so I'd know what was going on, but the message came to me in two parts. Out of order I had received the tail end of the message.
Then I had the pleasure of calling Satan's Minion's working at the cable company. God forbid - me, the lady of the house, might have a question about her husband's affairs. Shouldn't I be making dinner or vacuuming? It was beyond comprehension for multiple cable company employees that I might have a different last name as my husband. I'm the one who set up the account! Believe me, the Pastor would never have authorized a DVR! Don't you people know how lucky you are? One of the employees actually told me maybe, probably I should have changed my name to his to avoid confusion. I ended up three-waying the conversation, calling the Pastor who had to give me permission to talk about our account. So much for feeling like the empowered, modern woman who kept her name and identity. But I did get a credit on our account.
Some people may have figured out they can maybe, probably live with a boy. Me, I'm not so sure. The DVR box is easier to figure out.
8.21.2008
Mom, here's how my hair turned out.
I had the picture taken from the back because
(1) after surgery, my face too closely resembles the one in my painting. : ( Ugh.
(2) the hair turned out fabulous.
giant carrot cake
That's what it says on the receipt.
$10, btw.
Totally worth it.
Don't worry, I shared.
cute casual day outfit
Nine West silk top
Limited jeans
Isaac Mizrahi black patent flats
also carried giant red handbag
I have decided
to start taking pictures of some of my cute things, for all the world to see.
Bandolino Gray Pumps. Aren't they pretty?
No more wire hangers!
What's that? Something from your gallbladder surgery? Nope. Picture I took a few weeks ago after 75% off sale at Macy's. Wire hangers are bad.
8.14.2008
I just couldn't be happier
Everyone at my house is miserable.
Except me.
Back to school! Off they go!
I can't tell you how warm and fuzzy I feel inside. I have a stack of ten library books, a Vogue and new fall makeup to play with.
Except me.
Back to school! Off they go!
I can't tell you how warm and fuzzy I feel inside. I have a stack of ten library books, a Vogue and new fall makeup to play with.
8.13.2008
look! new!
my new maxandcleo dress
my old lady pearls I got at an old lady's garage sale
my old Nine West pumps
my old robin egg blue chair with room for two
my old Pastor
and my new painting
8.09.2008
roulette
Can you tell?
Is it a boy?
Is it a girl?
I have something growing inside me!
Its 1.6 centimeters, which isn't terribly large, but apparently when you have something roughly the size of a thumbnail on something roughly the size of a kiwi its a big deal.
Congratulations! It's gallstones, but it's not unlike being pregnant. The biggest one is like an alien growing inside me. I got to have an ultrasound. Its a gamble every time I eat something - maybe things will work out, or maybe it will be barf-tastic.
I'm not a gambler. I was raised in one of those houses where cards were of the Devil. I don't even know how to play Solitaire. (I just had to Google how to spell Solitaire because I didn't even know how to spell it.) So I'm going to let modern medicine handle this one.
Unlike the Pastor who is being completely psychotic about a mole on the back of his leg. Foregoing Western Medicine, and not asking Jesus to heal him, he is trying to rid himself of this mole. With wart remover. Only due to the God-given placement of the mole, he cannot reach it himself, hence the flaw in his cure.
He has to rely on me.
He'd be better off asking Jesus.
The daily mole healing involves him barking at me, much like a neurosurgeon scolding a nurse, except his is admonishing me on how to properly apply a band-aid he has, I promise you, punched a hole out of with my hole puncher, and apply Dr. Scholl's wart remover. Don't some moles turn out to be skin cancer? Am I wrong here? Is it safe to treat something that could someday in the teeniest tiniest realm of possibility turn out to be cancer with anything made by Dr. Scholl's, the same brand name that's on my Paul Frank shoes?
I know what this is all about. I've seen this type of male behavior before. Men are prone to this sort of thing. The Pastor is very competitive and I'm sure at some level he had to find something to make a big deal about - his mole - in order to compete with my gallstones.
But I don't care. I have fantastic news! The numbers I've been seeing on the scale. Completely opposite of pregnancy. What's a little acute abdominal pain, nausea and vomiting when you can be really thin? My clothes have never fit better. But maybe the weight loss isn't gallbladder related. Maybe its just the stress of the Pastor coming home, his little piles of stuff all over the house (which I'm sure if a neurosurgeon could look into his brain would tell me he has little piles of chaos going on in there to match) and the stress of having to deal with his mole.
Wish me luck. With the mole, that is. I'm sure my surgery will be a piece of cake. The kind I can temporarily not eat.
Is it a boy?
Is it a girl?
I have something growing inside me!
Its 1.6 centimeters, which isn't terribly large, but apparently when you have something roughly the size of a thumbnail on something roughly the size of a kiwi its a big deal.
Congratulations! It's gallstones, but it's not unlike being pregnant. The biggest one is like an alien growing inside me. I got to have an ultrasound. Its a gamble every time I eat something - maybe things will work out, or maybe it will be barf-tastic.
I'm not a gambler. I was raised in one of those houses where cards were of the Devil. I don't even know how to play Solitaire. (I just had to Google how to spell Solitaire because I didn't even know how to spell it.) So I'm going to let modern medicine handle this one.
Unlike the Pastor who is being completely psychotic about a mole on the back of his leg. Foregoing Western Medicine, and not asking Jesus to heal him, he is trying to rid himself of this mole. With wart remover. Only due to the God-given placement of the mole, he cannot reach it himself, hence the flaw in his cure.
He has to rely on me.
He'd be better off asking Jesus.
The daily mole healing involves him barking at me, much like a neurosurgeon scolding a nurse, except his is admonishing me on how to properly apply a band-aid he has, I promise you, punched a hole out of with my hole puncher, and apply Dr. Scholl's wart remover. Don't some moles turn out to be skin cancer? Am I wrong here? Is it safe to treat something that could someday in the teeniest tiniest realm of possibility turn out to be cancer with anything made by Dr. Scholl's, the same brand name that's on my Paul Frank shoes?
I know what this is all about. I've seen this type of male behavior before. Men are prone to this sort of thing. The Pastor is very competitive and I'm sure at some level he had to find something to make a big deal about - his mole - in order to compete with my gallstones.
But I don't care. I have fantastic news! The numbers I've been seeing on the scale. Completely opposite of pregnancy. What's a little acute abdominal pain, nausea and vomiting when you can be really thin? My clothes have never fit better. But maybe the weight loss isn't gallbladder related. Maybe its just the stress of the Pastor coming home, his little piles of stuff all over the house (which I'm sure if a neurosurgeon could look into his brain would tell me he has little piles of chaos going on in there to match) and the stress of having to deal with his mole.
Wish me luck. With the mole, that is. I'm sure my surgery will be a piece of cake. The kind I can temporarily not eat.
7.27.2008
Journey to the Center of Stupidity
You are welcome. I saw this movie, and now you don't have to! Send me the $10 and save two hours of your life if you like.
I like Brendan Fraser. Adorable! In fact, the name "Brendan Fraser (insert Nate's last name here)" made the short list of baby names when I was pregnant about a million years ago.
First of all, I live in a city that's not important enough to get the movie in 3D. We got it in 2D. Of course this was confusing to the kids that we were going to see a 2D movie. What's that? Uhhhh, it's just a normal movie. It was totally obvious where the cheesy 3D effects would have been. Oh look, a yo-yo. Birds flying. Dandelions being blown. Fish jumping out of the water. But even funny glasses wouldn't have saved this one.
C'mon! They journey to the center of the Earth. There are polarity issues - North is South and South is North. Huh? They are in a magnetic field. They are in a middle Earth ocean being attacked by flying fish. There are dinosaurs.
And what happens? A cell phone rings! Someone has somehow installed a cell phone tower, and the dinosaurs haven't toppled it over! I wonder which cell phone company claims middle Earth on their coverage map?
I can suspend reality on a lot of things, but cell phone coverage is not one of them. I can drive two miles from my house, and there's a black hole for cell phone coverage. Every time I have driven through that intersection while on any phone, the call drops. But maybe that's because I live in a city that isn't even special enough for 3D.
Oh, and that whole polarity thing, that's just weird. I'm so bad with directions I wonder if things would finally make sense if I traveled to the center of the Earth.
But who knows. Maybe I'm just writing a bad movie review because I'm cranky from the low-fat diet. I just had a yummy dinner of fat-free plain yogurt, banana and kiwi. Beats another gallbladder attack. And this movie.
I like Brendan Fraser. Adorable! In fact, the name "Brendan Fraser (insert Nate's last name here)" made the short list of baby names when I was pregnant about a million years ago.
First of all, I live in a city that's not important enough to get the movie in 3D. We got it in 2D. Of course this was confusing to the kids that we were going to see a 2D movie. What's that? Uhhhh, it's just a normal movie. It was totally obvious where the cheesy 3D effects would have been. Oh look, a yo-yo. Birds flying. Dandelions being blown. Fish jumping out of the water. But even funny glasses wouldn't have saved this one.
C'mon! They journey to the center of the Earth. There are polarity issues - North is South and South is North. Huh? They are in a magnetic field. They are in a middle Earth ocean being attacked by flying fish. There are dinosaurs.
And what happens? A cell phone rings! Someone has somehow installed a cell phone tower, and the dinosaurs haven't toppled it over! I wonder which cell phone company claims middle Earth on their coverage map?
I can suspend reality on a lot of things, but cell phone coverage is not one of them. I can drive two miles from my house, and there's a black hole for cell phone coverage. Every time I have driven through that intersection while on any phone, the call drops. But maybe that's because I live in a city that isn't even special enough for 3D.
Oh, and that whole polarity thing, that's just weird. I'm so bad with directions I wonder if things would finally make sense if I traveled to the center of the Earth.
But who knows. Maybe I'm just writing a bad movie review because I'm cranky from the low-fat diet. I just had a yummy dinner of fat-free plain yogurt, banana and kiwi. Beats another gallbladder attack. And this movie.
7.25.2008
What happens in Vegas
stays in your gallbladder and clogs it up in a very bad way.
Are you really surprised? Did you see what I had to eat? Can you imagine what I ate that I was too embarrassed to photograph? And you thought the worst thing I did was outlet mall shop.
The funny thing is, it hasn't bothered me to eat chips and salsa, french fries, burritos, cheese, etc. What has set me off? Things like cucumbers. Broccoli. Pecans.
You know I was sick. This is how you know. I did something I have never ever ever done. I had to miss a hair appointment. You don't mess with the hairdresser. Looks like someone is going to get an extra big tip and a Dr. Pepper for the reschedule.
The doctors suggestion? Perhaps you could eat some shredded wheat with no milk for breakfast. Wow! What a fantastic idea! Wait a minute, that's what I already eat for breakfast! Exactly 25 squares, while the Pastor gets to eat things like 5 Eggs Benedict. Or leftover bar-b-q. I don't eat meat, pork, chicken, onions and about a million other things. I hardly have any dairy. OK, I blew it in Vegas and I am obviously being punished.
What a better excuse to sit around and watch the E! True Hollywood Story on Britney Spears. And I wanted to lose few pounds anyway.
The absolute worst thing about having to make an emergency visit to the hospital? The Pastor gone and all those cute firefighters in my immaculate house, and me flat on the bathroom tile (thank you, cleaning lady) in the Pastor's Duke University t-shirt with throw-up in my hair already sporting unsightly roots.
I. could. have. died. right. then. and. there.
Are you really surprised? Did you see what I had to eat? Can you imagine what I ate that I was too embarrassed to photograph? And you thought the worst thing I did was outlet mall shop.
The funny thing is, it hasn't bothered me to eat chips and salsa, french fries, burritos, cheese, etc. What has set me off? Things like cucumbers. Broccoli. Pecans.
You know I was sick. This is how you know. I did something I have never ever ever done. I had to miss a hair appointment. You don't mess with the hairdresser. Looks like someone is going to get an extra big tip and a Dr. Pepper for the reschedule.
The doctors suggestion? Perhaps you could eat some shredded wheat with no milk for breakfast. Wow! What a fantastic idea! Wait a minute, that's what I already eat for breakfast! Exactly 25 squares, while the Pastor gets to eat things like 5 Eggs Benedict. Or leftover bar-b-q. I don't eat meat, pork, chicken, onions and about a million other things. I hardly have any dairy. OK, I blew it in Vegas and I am obviously being punished.
What a better excuse to sit around and watch the E! True Hollywood Story on Britney Spears. And I wanted to lose few pounds anyway.
The absolute worst thing about having to make an emergency visit to the hospital? The Pastor gone and all those cute firefighters in my immaculate house, and me flat on the bathroom tile (thank you, cleaning lady) in the Pastor's Duke University t-shirt with throw-up in my hair already sporting unsightly roots.
I. could. have. died. right. then. and. there.
7.23.2008
start spreading the news
While the Pastor is teaching Bible in Jerusalem, I took Nate for a mom/son va-ca to Las Vegas.
1. Sin City. It is a sin to eat that much food. Am now thinking there must be some ministerial/missionary opportunity there. Take all the hungry people to Las Vegas? They've got plenty of food there.
2. If you don't see me in many of the pictures, its because I didn't want to be photographed eating that much.
3. I didn't get picked for The Price is Right. Nate was so disappointed.
4. New York New York is such a big hotel, there are three full size Starbucks in it. Real Starbucks. Not that "we proudly brew" stuff. 100% Authentic. (I got another city mug!)
5. Coach Outlet. Gap Outlet. Pac Sun Outlet. Hurley Outlet. J Crew Outlet. BCBG Outlet! Sorry Pastor. But I am saving all sorts of money on mexican food while you are gone.
6. I'm pretty sure I earned an activity point just walking from our hotel room to the elevators. We practically needed a tram for the journey. How can a hotel be that big? Anyway, all the activity points in the world don't matter when you eat french fries three times in as many days. (OK, there was cheese on some of the fries.) That's more times than I get to eat french fries in a year.
7. M&M World! Who knew there was so much junk in the world with the M&M logo on it? Coca Cola World II! What kid needs to go to two Coca Cola Worlds in one summer?
8. Those hotel glasses I'm not going to drink out of? Perfect for organizing my toiletries!
7.20.2008
7.17.2008
That'll teach him.
I'll show the Pastor what I think about him going somewhere without me.
This isn't what our bedroom looked like before he left.
But he'll probably be more curious to find out where all his clothes went.
Extreme Home Makeover: Parsonage Edition
Where the television formerly resided. Now the Pastor will just have to look at me.
7.16.2008
I don't know what that means, and I don't care enough to Google it.
What the Pastor is doing: learning about nonreduction neuroscientific estimations of free will and determinism.
What I am doing: trying to figure out what to wear today, and its noon. Thinking about going to get a manicure. Cleaning out my kitchen cabinets. Doing laundry. Cleaning out my makeup to give stuff to my niece.
What I am doing: trying to figure out what to wear today, and its noon. Thinking about going to get a manicure. Cleaning out my kitchen cabinets. Doing laundry. Cleaning out my makeup to give stuff to my niece.
7.14.2008
deja vu
Nice feeling at church on Sunday. Look around and think I have that shirt. I have those shorts. I have that top. Wait, no I don't. I gave that stuff away! Keep looking around. Realize three people at church have on outfits which formerly resided in my closet. Not sure if I was feeling like a nice person or if I was just high from baby-sniffing. I had a baby sitting on my lap, and he smelled way too good.
Normally, I'm a pretty good speller, but everytime I write deja vu, I have to dictionary.com it. Therefore, everytime I dictionary.com deja vu, I have deja vu.
I think I'm still high from the Baby Magic.
Every day is the same. I swear I'm not going to stay up til 1 in the morning. I want to be alert. I want to have a good day. I don't want to take a nap. I'm not a good napper. If I take a nap at the swimming pool, how will I ever get my magazines read? Naps don't work. They make me crankier. But its 12:30 a.m., and here I am. I would say tomorrow is a whole new day, but its already tomorrow now isn't it? I'm not off to a good start.
Normally, I'm a pretty good speller, but everytime I write deja vu, I have to dictionary.com it. Therefore, everytime I dictionary.com deja vu, I have deja vu.
I think I'm still high from the Baby Magic.
Every day is the same. I swear I'm not going to stay up til 1 in the morning. I want to be alert. I want to have a good day. I don't want to take a nap. I'm not a good napper. If I take a nap at the swimming pool, how will I ever get my magazines read? Naps don't work. They make me crankier. But its 12:30 a.m., and here I am. I would say tomorrow is a whole new day, but its already tomorrow now isn't it? I'm not off to a good start.
7.13.2008
Tops!
This is a before and after picture.
After I cleaned out my closets.
Before I went to Macy's and The Limited yesterday (and the day before). Take 50% off the lowest marked price? Thank you! Clothes at 85% off?!? I can't buy stuff this cheap at Goodwlll! Actually, yes I can, but other people have worn it first.
7.12.2008
You'll be very disappointed with this post
if you are that person who reads my blog and blames me for the downfall of Christianity, etc.
Here's some of my shoes - some of what's left after cleaning out my closets.
7.09.2008
Minnie Me
If you delete "gardening" and change Mickey to the Pastor, I have the same to-do list as Minnie Mouse.
Minnie is happy, right? Or is that bow on her head tied a little too tight, giving her the appearance of a perma-grin?
7.05.2008
6.23.2008
64 bottles of Coke on the wall
World of Coca Cola today.
64 different Cokes to taste. I beat the Pastor and Nate and tasted them all. You only live once! Have a Coke and a smile!
Incidentally, if anyone has ever been to the World of Coca Cola and calculated the number of Weight Watcher points used by sampling 64 kinds of Coke, if you could let me know, that would be great. Or, maybe it wouldn't.
Also while on vacation, I'm dreaming. I need to look up dream interpretation for the dream I had this week. I had one of the few recurring dreams/nightmares that lives in my sub-conscious. I'm at school. I have been enrolled in classes for weeks, but didn't know and haven't been going. I am immediately presented in one class with a big stack of papers, marked in red ink, and they are assignments I've not yet completed. Also, it turns out I've been enrolled in some Science class for a very long time, have never been, and am doomed to fail.
But after things like cross-country car travel, gas station restrooms, roller coaster rides, daily Dairy Queen Blizzard Treats and 64 kinds of Coke, are dreams like this surprising?
64 different Cokes to taste. I beat the Pastor and Nate and tasted them all. You only live once! Have a Coke and a smile!
Incidentally, if anyone has ever been to the World of Coca Cola and calculated the number of Weight Watcher points used by sampling 64 kinds of Coke, if you could let me know, that would be great. Or, maybe it wouldn't.
Also while on vacation, I'm dreaming. I need to look up dream interpretation for the dream I had this week. I had one of the few recurring dreams/nightmares that lives in my sub-conscious. I'm at school. I have been enrolled in classes for weeks, but didn't know and haven't been going. I am immediately presented in one class with a big stack of papers, marked in red ink, and they are assignments I've not yet completed. Also, it turns out I've been enrolled in some Science class for a very long time, have never been, and am doomed to fail.
But after things like cross-country car travel, gas station restrooms, roller coaster rides, daily Dairy Queen Blizzard Treats and 64 kinds of Coke, are dreams like this surprising?
6.19.2008
you will only be impressed by this if you are a Weight Watcher
Just realized I made it through a week of vacation and road travel (including a treat at Dairy Queen!) without using all of my flex points for the week.
How is that possible?
I should vacation more often.
How is that possible?
I should vacation more often.
it truly was magical
No kids, no Pastor (he was however there in spirit, represented by the credit card) and freedom to shop at the Coach Outlet.
Also, BCBG Outlet, but no luck there.
Also, BCBG Outlet, but no luck there.
6.18.2008
6.17.2008
the Pastor and his new baby
The Amazon Kindle.
Its practically the only thing I've ever bought him and it didn't come from Goodwill. It confuses him to have new things. He left it unopened for days, anguished over what to do.
run for the border
Turns out he would have been just as happy (if not happier) with Taco Bell.
That would have been easier.
Next year, I'm making a run for the border.
Sitting in my resort king size bed
posting pictures to my blog.
This one is of the Pastor's pre-trip b-day cheesecake.
Cheesecake Factory Original Cheesecake recipe.
Stupid copy-cat recipe book.
some day at the beach
I have undergone an extensive hair removal process which included razors, lasers, Veet, tweezers and molten wax. (Pastor: "what is taking you so long in there to get ready?") Hopefully I can enjoy a few hair-free hours at the beach before I start to stubble up.
6.15.2008
Happy Father's Day
I'm on vacation with the Pastor and family, but wanted to say Happy Father's Day to the man who originally spoiled me.
The man who could tell I had an ear infection by the way my ears smelled.
The man who took me dress shopping at Street's Department Store and always said "just get both" to the dresses. (By the way, this apparently set a very bad precedent. The unlimited use of the AmEx card too.)
The man who told me I wouldn't win at the quarter game at the State Fair, and when I proved him wrong was forced to attach a very large stuffed pig to his belt for the rest of the day.
The man who realized I was completely hopeless with the stick shift and bought me an automatic instead.
The man who helped me assemble a complete Nancy Drew book collection - long before Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble - by picking up a book in every city he went to.
The man who brought donuts to Nate on Saturday mornings.
And you don't know this, but after one of your trips overseas you gave me a silver elephant key chain that you were given on your trip. The elephant has a secret compartment which can't possibly be for anything but holding illicit drugs, but it reminds me of you and I and have carried it in my wallet for years because you gave it to me.
And after being in this van with three children (sound familiar?) driving across states and (hopefully) making it alive to our destination, I appreciate you even more!
Happy Father's Day.
I love you.
-Rotten
The man who could tell I had an ear infection by the way my ears smelled.
The man who took me dress shopping at Street's Department Store and always said "just get both" to the dresses. (By the way, this apparently set a very bad precedent. The unlimited use of the AmEx card too.)
The man who told me I wouldn't win at the quarter game at the State Fair, and when I proved him wrong was forced to attach a very large stuffed pig to his belt for the rest of the day.
The man who realized I was completely hopeless with the stick shift and bought me an automatic instead.
The man who helped me assemble a complete Nancy Drew book collection - long before Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble - by picking up a book in every city he went to.
The man who brought donuts to Nate on Saturday mornings.
And you don't know this, but after one of your trips overseas you gave me a silver elephant key chain that you were given on your trip. The elephant has a secret compartment which can't possibly be for anything but holding illicit drugs, but it reminds me of you and I and have carried it in my wallet for years because you gave it to me.
And after being in this van with three children (sound familiar?) driving across states and (hopefully) making it alive to our destination, I appreciate you even more!
Happy Father's Day.
I love you.
-Rotten
oh that's what it was
One of the children said to the Pastor that they didn't realize when the Pastor and I were dating we were "boyfriend and girlfriend" and that grown-ups could be "boyfriend and girlfriend."
The Pastor said that's not what he called it.
Then what did you call it?
Turns out he called it "Non-Committed Romantic Encounters" - and then we got engaged.
Thanks Pastor for finally defining our relationship, four years later.
The Pastor said that's not what he called it.
Then what did you call it?
Turns out he called it "Non-Committed Romantic Encounters" - and then we got engaged.
Thanks Pastor for finally defining our relationship, four years later.
6.13.2008
6.05.2008
oh fudge
Mom and Dad recently drove through Amarillo, Texas and visited the restaurant famous for their 72 ounce steaks.
Turns out they also make fudge.
Mom brought me home a box that holds six pieces, minus three pieces. Naturally, the first thing I asked (after I said thanks of course) was where are the other three pieces lady?
Now I'm really glad there were only three pieces. And it is entirely obvious to me the reason Mom gave me the box was she has more willpower than I and was trying to get rid of the last three pieces before she ate them. Thanks.
A couple of weeks ago there was the "Eat This Not That" book incident that featured the picture of the KFC bowl. I thought "that looks pretty tasty" but I did manage to resist temptation. The last time I craved KFC, Nate was residing in my uterus. The picture book did influence me to get another book of top-secret recipes and make my own Chili's Chocolate Chip Paradise Pie, rated the worst dessert (health-wise) in America - the equivalent of three Big Macs.
Stupid books. T.V. and magazines have got to be better for you - they just make me want to buy clothes. And make-up. And shoes. And purses. And jewelry. That's it.
Fast-forward to this morning on my Starbucks run. No breakfast and I had waited far to long to get coffee into my system after too few hours of sleep. Then I started to feel it in the car.
Morning sickness.
What is wrong with me??? Does that explain the fudge and the chicken desire and all the tears?
Nope. It was just an air freshener.
When I was pregnant with Nate, as much as I loved KFC, I loathed Apple Jack & Peel potpourri. I had the stuff in my house, and it made me sick. I had to throw it away. To this day I can't stand the smell of it.
Turns out, one of the kids had made an air freshener at VBS last night and hung it in the car. Apple Jack& Peel strikes again! Those kids are always making me sick.
Thank goodness that's all it was. Babies come and go, but morning sickness - that's forever.
And it turns out there was another reason for eating the fudge and the tears and the mood swings. And it's definitely not a baby.
Turns out they also make fudge.
Mom brought me home a box that holds six pieces, minus three pieces. Naturally, the first thing I asked (after I said thanks of course) was where are the other three pieces lady?
Now I'm really glad there were only three pieces. And it is entirely obvious to me the reason Mom gave me the box was she has more willpower than I and was trying to get rid of the last three pieces before she ate them. Thanks.
A couple of weeks ago there was the "Eat This Not That" book incident that featured the picture of the KFC bowl. I thought "that looks pretty tasty" but I did manage to resist temptation. The last time I craved KFC, Nate was residing in my uterus. The picture book did influence me to get another book of top-secret recipes and make my own Chili's Chocolate Chip Paradise Pie, rated the worst dessert (health-wise) in America - the equivalent of three Big Macs.
Stupid books. T.V. and magazines have got to be better for you - they just make me want to buy clothes. And make-up. And shoes. And purses. And jewelry. That's it.
Fast-forward to this morning on my Starbucks run. No breakfast and I had waited far to long to get coffee into my system after too few hours of sleep. Then I started to feel it in the car.
Morning sickness.
What is wrong with me??? Does that explain the fudge and the chicken desire and all the tears?
Nope. It was just an air freshener.
When I was pregnant with Nate, as much as I loved KFC, I loathed Apple Jack & Peel potpourri. I had the stuff in my house, and it made me sick. I had to throw it away. To this day I can't stand the smell of it.
Turns out, one of the kids had made an air freshener at VBS last night and hung it in the car. Apple Jack& Peel strikes again! Those kids are always making me sick.
Thank goodness that's all it was. Babies come and go, but morning sickness - that's forever.
And it turns out there was another reason for eating the fudge and the tears and the mood swings. And it's definitely not a baby.
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