Last night Mom and I took in the show at (here we go) Rockford Park District’s, Music in Park’s…Decatur Park Singers!
As always, the show was wonderful! It was one in a series of free outdoor summer concerts hosted in the Band Shell inside Sinnissippi Park (hence, Music in the Park).
We ran into several friends. One lady who used to go to Mom and Gary’s church (but now attends Maywood Evangelical Free) stopped by to say “hi.” Mom’s old friends Jolean and Dean Muir (not sure on the spelling) were there chowing down on McDonald’s before the show. I also ran down to say hello to Jan and Terry Miller (who are from our church) after I caught sight of them in front. Then, at the last minute, right before the show started, we saw Leslie and Ralph Stambaugh, friends from our Game Night Group!
Old home week!
The show was – as earlier stated – amazing! The young college kids from Decatur sang and danced their way through patriotic tunes, jazz music, old fashioned rock and roll, country, and a few sentimental ballads.
It would be hard to pick my favorite part of the show, but I’d have to go with the amazing guitar soloist, talented dancer, and the vocalist who all worked together to perform Santana’s “Smooth.”
Close runners up would be the hilarious rendition of “Harper Valley P.T.A.” (done in white high heeled boots with a giant red hair wig), and when the guys pulled a woman out of the audience and serenaded her with Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl.”
Actually, I didn’t know the song was BY Billy Joel. I barely know who Billy Joel is. I was a sheltered kid and wasn’t really exposed to popular music until I went to college.
But I heard the phrase “backstreet boy” in the song. Later, I asked Brett if the Backstreet Boys sang “Uptown Girl.” He laughed so hard, he almost split a gut. Then, he told me it was Billy Joel and wanted to know how I could possibly think it was the Backstreet Boys.
Oh, well, at least I made his night humorous!
Mom and I had a great time together, as we normally do, since that is usually what happens when you are with your best friend!
We are already looking forward to next year’s shows!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Behind Every Classy Lady…
...is a schlub like me.
I stopped by Panera this morning to grab a perfectly unhealthy breakfast of a bagel, veggie smear, and chocolate chip cookie (I know, I know), and as I was leaving, I held the door for another woman heading out to work.
She was out-of-a-magazine gorgeous. Slender, tall, with mahogany colored hair, she was clad in beautifully cut career separates that highlighted a gym-sculpted body.
To top it off, she was nice. Sometimes, I hate it when beautiful people are nice. Makes it so much harder to dislike them.
She thanked me sweetly for holding the door. Holding her petite little bread bag, she glided across the parking lot, boosted herself into a dazzling black Hummer and roared politely out of the lot.
I felt like such a short, fat putz as I hoofed it my battered Taurus and climbed inside.
Thankfully, I had a chocolate chip cookie to make it all better. She may look gorgeous, but I’ll bet she hasn’t had chocolate in years!
And who wants to live like that!
I stopped by Panera this morning to grab a perfectly unhealthy breakfast of a bagel, veggie smear, and chocolate chip cookie (I know, I know), and as I was leaving, I held the door for another woman heading out to work.
She was out-of-a-magazine gorgeous. Slender, tall, with mahogany colored hair, she was clad in beautifully cut career separates that highlighted a gym-sculpted body.
To top it off, she was nice. Sometimes, I hate it when beautiful people are nice. Makes it so much harder to dislike them.
She thanked me sweetly for holding the door. Holding her petite little bread bag, she glided across the parking lot, boosted herself into a dazzling black Hummer and roared politely out of the lot.
I felt like such a short, fat putz as I hoofed it my battered Taurus and climbed inside.
Thankfully, I had a chocolate chip cookie to make it all better. She may look gorgeous, but I’ll bet she hasn’t had chocolate in years!
And who wants to live like that!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Dumber and Dumberer
You know how you can go years and years thinking you are doing or saying something the right way, and then one day someone drops a bomb on you and says, “Hey, her name isn’t Jennifer!”
After years and years of calling some blond woman what you thought was her name, you find you are in absolute error. And the sweet victim, an Angela perhaps, was just too polite to ever let you know. But is assuredly glad you now know so she no longer has to turn around whenever she hears someone say, "Hey, Jennifer!"
Well, we all do things like that. In fact, the older I get, the more I seem to do things exactly like that.
The most recent display of my profound dumbness surfaced yesterday. When I learned that “Cedarholm” was a person, not a place.
That’s right. I believed the honorable Dr. Cedarholm of Maranatha fame was actually a place.
Obviously I didn’t know about the “Dr.” part.
I think I must have confused it with Cedarville, Iowa, which is actually a place and home to one semi-famous Christian college. I merged the two in my mind, and subconsciously, whenever I heard someone say “Cedarholm” (how DID I miss all those “Dr.’s”?) I would think, “How nice! They’re going to Iowa to visit Cedarholm!” Thinking, of course, of a city, not a person.
My dear friend Jeanette, who is a sweet and gentle person, laughed so long and hard at this when she unknowingly exposed my idiocy the other night that she almost passed out.
It’s not new. I’ve done it before.
Growing up with a hyphenated name was not always easy. I was in the definite minority, and people never knew how to spell or say my name.
People automatically thought I had two names, like some kind of hillbilly, or that Marie was my middle name, and I was a pretentious snob to insist people use “all” my names.
So, it was a relief when I met my husband’s (my boyfriend at the time) friend, John James, in college. John James was introduced to me, and I felt like I had found an instant friend who could feel my “two name” pain.
I saw John James a lot on campus and would always wave to him. “Hi, John James!” I’d yell across the terrace.
John James was a kind, sweet, and absolutely genteel Southern boy. He’d look up, give a nod and say, “Hi, Ann-Marie. How are you?” In that soft Southern drawl of his.
I was SO happy for John James the day he got married. Brett and I attended the wedding. It was then I discovered true humiliation as the preacher proudly announced to the crowd, “Will you please join me in welcoming Mr. and Mrs. John and Melissa James!”
I blushed down to the tip of my toes. James was his LAST name. I had called someone by his entire Christian name for THREE WHOLE YEARS! No wonder he’d always given me that quizzical look when I talked to him. I’d chalked it up to his shyness, but it turned out that he was just wondering what was wrong with me.
Just imagine how annoying it would be if someone called you your first and last names EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY TALKED TO YOU.
He must have dreaded our chance meetings.
Thankfully, I can chalk my d’oh! moments up to genetics. Recently, my mom, who is in her 60’s, discovered she has been spelling my cousin Candice’s name wrong (she spelled it Candace) for Candice’s entire life!
“I just figured it would be embarrassing to tell her NOW,” said Candice when I finally broke the bad news to Mom. Mom was still recovering from the shock when she discovered yet another mistake.
Someone commented on how “cute” it was that Mom wished a graduate well by signing “Congradulations” on their card.
“What?” Mom was indignant. “That’s how I’ve always spelled it. That’s how it’s spelled right?”
Nope. Sorry, Mom.
Maybe that's how they spell it in Cedarholm.
After years and years of calling some blond woman what you thought was her name, you find you are in absolute error. And the sweet victim, an Angela perhaps, was just too polite to ever let you know. But is assuredly glad you now know so she no longer has to turn around whenever she hears someone say, "Hey, Jennifer!"
Well, we all do things like that. In fact, the older I get, the more I seem to do things exactly like that.
The most recent display of my profound dumbness surfaced yesterday. When I learned that “Cedarholm” was a person, not a place.
That’s right. I believed the honorable Dr. Cedarholm of Maranatha fame was actually a place.
Obviously I didn’t know about the “Dr.” part.
I think I must have confused it with Cedarville, Iowa, which is actually a place and home to one semi-famous Christian college. I merged the two in my mind, and subconsciously, whenever I heard someone say “Cedarholm” (how DID I miss all those “Dr.’s”?) I would think, “How nice! They’re going to Iowa to visit Cedarholm!” Thinking, of course, of a city, not a person.
My dear friend Jeanette, who is a sweet and gentle person, laughed so long and hard at this when she unknowingly exposed my idiocy the other night that she almost passed out.
It’s not new. I’ve done it before.
Growing up with a hyphenated name was not always easy. I was in the definite minority, and people never knew how to spell or say my name.
People automatically thought I had two names, like some kind of hillbilly, or that Marie was my middle name, and I was a pretentious snob to insist people use “all” my names.
So, it was a relief when I met my husband’s (my boyfriend at the time) friend, John James, in college. John James was introduced to me, and I felt like I had found an instant friend who could feel my “two name” pain.
I saw John James a lot on campus and would always wave to him. “Hi, John James!” I’d yell across the terrace.
John James was a kind, sweet, and absolutely genteel Southern boy. He’d look up, give a nod and say, “Hi, Ann-Marie. How are you?” In that soft Southern drawl of his.
I was SO happy for John James the day he got married. Brett and I attended the wedding. It was then I discovered true humiliation as the preacher proudly announced to the crowd, “Will you please join me in welcoming Mr. and Mrs. John and Melissa James!”
I blushed down to the tip of my toes. James was his LAST name. I had called someone by his entire Christian name for THREE WHOLE YEARS! No wonder he’d always given me that quizzical look when I talked to him. I’d chalked it up to his shyness, but it turned out that he was just wondering what was wrong with me.
Just imagine how annoying it would be if someone called you your first and last names EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY TALKED TO YOU.
He must have dreaded our chance meetings.
Thankfully, I can chalk my d’oh! moments up to genetics. Recently, my mom, who is in her 60’s, discovered she has been spelling my cousin Candice’s name wrong (she spelled it Candace) for Candice’s entire life!
“I just figured it would be embarrassing to tell her NOW,” said Candice when I finally broke the bad news to Mom. Mom was still recovering from the shock when she discovered yet another mistake.
Someone commented on how “cute” it was that Mom wished a graduate well by signing “Congradulations” on their card.
“What?” Mom was indignant. “That’s how I’ve always spelled it. That’s how it’s spelled right?”
Nope. Sorry, Mom.
Maybe that's how they spell it in Cedarholm.
My Husband’s Hands
When I met Brett, he did not look like the clean cut guy he does today.
In college, he had long, shoulder-length hair and a beard that covered two thirds of his face. I like to joke that it’s a good thing he has incredible eyes, since that’s all I could see when we were dating.
But there was one thing I found absolutely irresistible about him (even with all that hair).
You see, it was weird for me to be attracted to anything about any guy. I was fresh from a bratty, legalistic Christian high school. My high school must have been unique (at least I hope it was) as it was completely filled with guys who were absolute jerks. My high school was filled with one cruel, chauvinistic, legalistic, jerk after another.
I estimate that at that point I believed that 98% of boys my age were absolutely worthless. I headed off to college believing that statistic held true for college men as well.
After all, I’d never known anything different.
Thankfully, within my first few weeks at Moody, I discovered I had cut the men of the world a very raw deal. There were jerky guys at Moody, too, of course, but they were heavily out gunned by the nice guys.
I met one wonderful guy after another. It was such an odd experience for me to be able to talk to a guy and not expect a look of disgust or disinterest in his eye.
I was so completely naïve, having never been regarded by men before, that I didn’t even know when I was being asked out on a date.
One guy asked if I liked ice cream. If I did, he knew this great little place just outside the city. I was with my roommate at the time, and I said, “Sure, I like ice cream. Just let me check with the other girls.”
Noting his crestfallen expression, my roommate had to take me aside and say, “Honey, he’s asking YOU for a date, not the whole floor!”
My jaw hit the floor. THAT had never happened to me, and I was mortified.
Within a couple of weeks, I got into the swing of things, and for the first time ever, I had friends who were GUYS! It was a weird yet wonderful thing to experience.
So, when I started dating Brett, I was still adjusting to “liking” guys at all. It stand to reason I would like an older man, since I found immaturity still raised my hackles with memories of my high school tormentors.
Brett is nine years older than me, and I found the maturity of his age was well worth all the cradle-robber jokes we had to endure (He was 27 when we started dating; I was only 18).
But, back to what I found attractive about him.
We were on a date, probably in the first couple months. I don’t remember exactly when. He was talking to me and casually put his hands on the table, moving them back and forth to make some point.
I found myself staring at those…those….catcher mitts on the table. His hands were huge. Easily three times the size of my own hand.
I immediately wanted to touch his hands. To take them in my own and just feel the length and breadth of them. To match my palm to his and get lost in those warm and welcoming fingers.
I resisted, of course, because even a naïve 18 year old knows that holding hands is a big deal for someone who has never dated and only recently begun to find any kind of man remotely attractive.
I found myself looking at his hands and his massive wrists with renewed interest over the next couple of dates.
Looking back, I don’t know why it seemed amazing that his hands were so huge. Everything about Brett is big. He’s 6’4” and wears size 16 shoes. It’s not like I was dating a petite man, but those hands just seemed so gigantic.
My resistance paid off when we finally held hands for the first time on a cold winter’s night a couple weeks later.
We were huddled in our fleece jackets, standing at the end of Navy Pier, listening to U2 on the parade speakers while we looked out at the sky. It was our favorite place to go on a date because it was (a) free and (b) absolutely deserted in the middle of winter (as it is not the best place to keep warm in Chicago).
It was not a romantic moment, despite all that, since Brett was very nervous about holding hands with me. He was always nervous with me, because he knew everything about dating was new to me. He’d dated before, but I was new to everything, and he didn’t want to screw up my experience.
So, he actually asked if he could hold my hand. It wasn’t as sweet as it sounds. The way he asked was more like a lawyer trying to seal a contract so he can’t be sued later. Still, I said yes and those gentle hands finally covered mine.
I haven’t let go since.
Since we’ve been together, almost eleven years now, I have loved his hands. I love to hold then, trace them, and wrap my fingers around his wrist (they don’t go all the way around).
Brett and I are very affectionate with each other. We like to think it’s because we both grew up not being cared for or even remotely liked by the opposite sex. So, we overcompensate with affection now, by trying to always remind each other that we love each other by touch. That we are valued and cared for now.
Last night, I was nearly asleep when Brett put his arm around me. He drew me in tight and gave me a good night hug. I looked over my shoulder and saw those big, beautiful hands and thought once again how much I love them. And him.
So, even though he doesn’t ask me if he can anymore, he still holds my hand. And my heart.
And I still want him to.
In college, he had long, shoulder-length hair and a beard that covered two thirds of his face. I like to joke that it’s a good thing he has incredible eyes, since that’s all I could see when we were dating.
But there was one thing I found absolutely irresistible about him (even with all that hair).
You see, it was weird for me to be attracted to anything about any guy. I was fresh from a bratty, legalistic Christian high school. My high school must have been unique (at least I hope it was) as it was completely filled with guys who were absolute jerks. My high school was filled with one cruel, chauvinistic, legalistic, jerk after another.
I estimate that at that point I believed that 98% of boys my age were absolutely worthless. I headed off to college believing that statistic held true for college men as well.
After all, I’d never known anything different.
Thankfully, within my first few weeks at Moody, I discovered I had cut the men of the world a very raw deal. There were jerky guys at Moody, too, of course, but they were heavily out gunned by the nice guys.
I met one wonderful guy after another. It was such an odd experience for me to be able to talk to a guy and not expect a look of disgust or disinterest in his eye.
I was so completely naïve, having never been regarded by men before, that I didn’t even know when I was being asked out on a date.
One guy asked if I liked ice cream. If I did, he knew this great little place just outside the city. I was with my roommate at the time, and I said, “Sure, I like ice cream. Just let me check with the other girls.”
Noting his crestfallen expression, my roommate had to take me aside and say, “Honey, he’s asking YOU for a date, not the whole floor!”
My jaw hit the floor. THAT had never happened to me, and I was mortified.
Within a couple of weeks, I got into the swing of things, and for the first time ever, I had friends who were GUYS! It was a weird yet wonderful thing to experience.
So, when I started dating Brett, I was still adjusting to “liking” guys at all. It stand to reason I would like an older man, since I found immaturity still raised my hackles with memories of my high school tormentors.
Brett is nine years older than me, and I found the maturity of his age was well worth all the cradle-robber jokes we had to endure (He was 27 when we started dating; I was only 18).
But, back to what I found attractive about him.
We were on a date, probably in the first couple months. I don’t remember exactly when. He was talking to me and casually put his hands on the table, moving them back and forth to make some point.
I found myself staring at those…those….catcher mitts on the table. His hands were huge. Easily three times the size of my own hand.
I immediately wanted to touch his hands. To take them in my own and just feel the length and breadth of them. To match my palm to his and get lost in those warm and welcoming fingers.
I resisted, of course, because even a naïve 18 year old knows that holding hands is a big deal for someone who has never dated and only recently begun to find any kind of man remotely attractive.
I found myself looking at his hands and his massive wrists with renewed interest over the next couple of dates.
Looking back, I don’t know why it seemed amazing that his hands were so huge. Everything about Brett is big. He’s 6’4” and wears size 16 shoes. It’s not like I was dating a petite man, but those hands just seemed so gigantic.
My resistance paid off when we finally held hands for the first time on a cold winter’s night a couple weeks later.
We were huddled in our fleece jackets, standing at the end of Navy Pier, listening to U2 on the parade speakers while we looked out at the sky. It was our favorite place to go on a date because it was (a) free and (b) absolutely deserted in the middle of winter (as it is not the best place to keep warm in Chicago).
It was not a romantic moment, despite all that, since Brett was very nervous about holding hands with me. He was always nervous with me, because he knew everything about dating was new to me. He’d dated before, but I was new to everything, and he didn’t want to screw up my experience.
So, he actually asked if he could hold my hand. It wasn’t as sweet as it sounds. The way he asked was more like a lawyer trying to seal a contract so he can’t be sued later. Still, I said yes and those gentle hands finally covered mine.
I haven’t let go since.
Since we’ve been together, almost eleven years now, I have loved his hands. I love to hold then, trace them, and wrap my fingers around his wrist (they don’t go all the way around).
Brett and I are very affectionate with each other. We like to think it’s because we both grew up not being cared for or even remotely liked by the opposite sex. So, we overcompensate with affection now, by trying to always remind each other that we love each other by touch. That we are valued and cared for now.
Last night, I was nearly asleep when Brett put his arm around me. He drew me in tight and gave me a good night hug. I looked over my shoulder and saw those big, beautiful hands and thought once again how much I love them. And him.
So, even though he doesn’t ask me if he can anymore, he still holds my hand. And my heart.
And I still want him to.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Flip Side
I tend to use this blog to complain about the blasted hot weather we Midwesterners experience several months out of the year.
Well, in order to be fair and equitable, I will say the weather was just about perfect yesterday. I drove home on Route 2 with the windows open and the cool air tossing my hair back. It was blessed refreshing, I’ll tell you that!
When I got home, Brett and I snuggled on the couch to watch the CMA concert series together – a free concert is a free concert, even if it is on TV.
All in all, a good night!
Well, in order to be fair and equitable, I will say the weather was just about perfect yesterday. I drove home on Route 2 with the windows open and the cool air tossing my hair back. It was blessed refreshing, I’ll tell you that!
When I got home, Brett and I snuggled on the couch to watch the CMA concert series together – a free concert is a free concert, even if it is on TV.
All in all, a good night!
Angel Wings
Ingredients:
Fluffy “layered” canned biscuits
8 count package (divided into 16 half-biscuits)
Philadelphia cream cheese
1 block (divided into 16 squares)
Olive oil
Italian seasoning
Shredded cheddar cheese
Directions:
Divide biscuits in half, top/bottom halves. Place a square of cream cheese in the middle of each biscuit. Brush each biscuit top with a mixture of olive oil and Italian seasoning. Roll sides of biscuits over to cover cream cheese square. Place seam side down on baking pan. Re-brush top of biscuit with olive oil/Italian seasoning mix. Sprinkle top with shredded cheddar cheese. Bake according to biscuit package directions.
Let biscuits cool for five minutes and then serve. They’re delicious, and the recipe is easily customizable to your particular tastes!
Fluffy “layered” canned biscuits
8 count package (divided into 16 half-biscuits)
Philadelphia cream cheese
1 block (divided into 16 squares)
Olive oil
Italian seasoning
Shredded cheddar cheese
Directions:
Divide biscuits in half, top/bottom halves. Place a square of cream cheese in the middle of each biscuit. Brush each biscuit top with a mixture of olive oil and Italian seasoning. Roll sides of biscuits over to cover cream cheese square. Place seam side down on baking pan. Re-brush top of biscuit with olive oil/Italian seasoning mix. Sprinkle top with shredded cheddar cheese. Bake according to biscuit package directions.
Let biscuits cool for five minutes and then serve. They’re delicious, and the recipe is easily customizable to your particular tastes!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Widening the Friendship Circle
I’m celebrating my first cyber friend!
Lest you all think I’ve started some form of internet befriending, or (horrors!) dating, I will ease your mind.
Her name is Wendy, and she is a friend of my former college roommate (and absolutely still my kindred spirit) October. I’ve checked out Wendy’s blog, and she seems normal enough (see link at right).
Of course, all of October’s friends (including myself) seem normal. At least until you get to know us. Often what redeems us is the fact that October has chosen to gift us with her amazing friendship.
That said, I’m glad October is Wendy’s friend, so that now I can now also be Wendy’s friend!
Thanks, Wendy!
Lest you all think I’ve started some form of internet befriending, or (horrors!) dating, I will ease your mind.
Her name is Wendy, and she is a friend of my former college roommate (and absolutely still my kindred spirit) October. I’ve checked out Wendy’s blog, and she seems normal enough (see link at right).
Of course, all of October’s friends (including myself) seem normal. At least until you get to know us. Often what redeems us is the fact that October has chosen to gift us with her amazing friendship.
That said, I’m glad October is Wendy’s friend, so that now I can now also be Wendy’s friend!
Thanks, Wendy!
Monday Madness Quiz
My friend Cindy does a Monday Madness quiz on her blog (see Cindy’s blog link at right) and invites others to do the same. So, I’m joining in.
Feel free to do this on your own blog or in my comments section!
1. Are there any weird "food rules" you have?
I don’t have “rules” particularly, just that I don’t like meat and eat as little of it as possible. I LOVE ranch dressing and will put it on pretty much everything.
2. When you were growing up, what ONE thing did your parents always remind you of, when it came to meal time (or cooking)?
My mother, who was a magnificent mother - just not a very good cook in those days, would often remind me to take my preferred TV dinner out of the freezer so she could put it in the microwave.
3. Is there anyone you know whose food you won't eat (for one reason or another)?
If I know someone is a smoker, I am a little leery of eating anything they’ve prepared. I don’t know how much second-hand smoke sticks to a casserole.
4. Is there anything you "specialize" in cooking, that people actually ask for?
Two things, actually. My mother-in-law, an amazing cook – God rest her soul, passed on her Mashed Potato Casserole recipe to me, and it’s a favorite at all the Rehfeldt gatherings.
Also, by accident, I created a delicious cream cheese filled cheddar biscuit for my office holiday party one year. It was a “mystery” meal where everyone made something and a committee “named” it for the menu. They chose “Angel Wings” for my entrée, and ever since it is in high demand at all the office parties!
5. When you were growing up, what one meal do you remember as being your favorite?
I’ve mentioned my mother’s (shall we say) impairment to cooking, but she did know how to make a delicious pot pie. Mmm…complete with a light and flaky crust. Oh, if it were only enough to make me forget…Night of the Living Turkey Burgers! Aaaarrrrrggghhh!
6. Today, what is your IDEAL meal?
That’s a toughie. It would be a three-way tie. Sun dried tomato bagels with veggie cream cheese. The white olive oil pizza from Rosati’s. Homemade macaroni and cheese. Mmm….
Great, now I’m hungry. Haven’t I mentioned I’m trying to EAT and THINK healthy now? Sheesh!
Feel free to do this on your own blog or in my comments section!
1. Are there any weird "food rules" you have?
I don’t have “rules” particularly, just that I don’t like meat and eat as little of it as possible. I LOVE ranch dressing and will put it on pretty much everything.
2. When you were growing up, what ONE thing did your parents always remind you of, when it came to meal time (or cooking)?
My mother, who was a magnificent mother - just not a very good cook in those days, would often remind me to take my preferred TV dinner out of the freezer so she could put it in the microwave.
3. Is there anyone you know whose food you won't eat (for one reason or another)?
If I know someone is a smoker, I am a little leery of eating anything they’ve prepared. I don’t know how much second-hand smoke sticks to a casserole.
4. Is there anything you "specialize" in cooking, that people actually ask for?
Two things, actually. My mother-in-law, an amazing cook – God rest her soul, passed on her Mashed Potato Casserole recipe to me, and it’s a favorite at all the Rehfeldt gatherings.
Also, by accident, I created a delicious cream cheese filled cheddar biscuit for my office holiday party one year. It was a “mystery” meal where everyone made something and a committee “named” it for the menu. They chose “Angel Wings” for my entrée, and ever since it is in high demand at all the office parties!
5. When you were growing up, what one meal do you remember as being your favorite?
I’ve mentioned my mother’s (shall we say) impairment to cooking, but she did know how to make a delicious pot pie. Mmm…complete with a light and flaky crust. Oh, if it were only enough to make me forget…Night of the Living Turkey Burgers! Aaaarrrrrggghhh!
6. Today, what is your IDEAL meal?
That’s a toughie. It would be a three-way tie. Sun dried tomato bagels with veggie cream cheese. The white olive oil pizza from Rosati’s. Homemade macaroni and cheese. Mmm….
Great, now I’m hungry. Haven’t I mentioned I’m trying to EAT and THINK healthy now? Sheesh!
Movie Night...at Church?!
This weekend went by SO fast.
I was up to my eyeballs in work at the office on Friday and Saturday, so that sucked up most of my weekend.
But, we did get to enjoy a nice game night with Mom and Gary on Saturday evening. We played guys against girls in Sequence.
The “girls” lost three times in a row! It was a serious beating! Mom and I were more than happy to throw in the towel after three consecutive losing games, even though the guys were willing to keep playing…and keep winning!
Sunday was church, and (to be honest) it was kind of a mixed bag.
We enjoyed the service, as always, but I’m always so lonely. I still can’t get used to not being part of a social network at church.
Maybe these women do things together during the week that I’m just not a part of. I don’t know. I mean, we don’t have kids, so we’re not home schooling or even regular schooling. We’re not adopting. Maybe we just don’t have common ground. It shouldn’t matter, but who knows?
Karyn and Heidi came up and talked to me for a while, and I really appreciated it. Otherwise, I felt like a spot on the carpet, nearly invisible.
Sunday evening was a treat – we watched a movie! Time Changers – a Christian movie about a man who travels forward in time (from 1890) to present day and sees what his views were leading the world towards. It was actually a very nice movie. Some vaguely funny scenes and a good message.
I’ve been spoiled by Hollywood (take that any way you want), so I put my inner movie critic on hold and just enjoyed the fellowship and the message behind the movie.
There was even popcorn, lemonade, and iced tea to enjoy with the movie. What a great concept!
Brett and I didn’t get any popcorn, even though we went back for it numerous times. The little kids just kept going past us to the front of the line (for four and five helpings), and we just didn’t feel it was our place to point out that we adults were waiting for popcorn, too.
After all, it’s just popcorn!
Next time, I’ll pop some 94% Fat Free in advance and bring it with us!
It was a wonderful atmosphere, and we enjoyed the movie. But afterwards, driving home, we were both kind of depressed by our lack of church friends.
Brett asked me how I felt, since I think he could tell I was a little down.
“I just feel like I don’t know how to make friends with these people.” I told him. “There’s just not that familiarity yet, I guess. It bums me out because until now I felt like I really could make friends with anybody!”
Still, as I was praying this morning, I said those words (that my mother taught me SO long ago), “I only want to have the friends God wants me to have.”
So I prayed God would provide me with godly friends in HIS time, in HIS place, and from the people HE chooses.
I can’t argue with that!
I do have to say I’ve especially appreciated Heidi, Karyn, and Joy and how they’ve always stopped to talk to me. I thrive on conversation, and it means a lot to me.
God HAS generously provided their kind friendship!
I was up to my eyeballs in work at the office on Friday and Saturday, so that sucked up most of my weekend.
But, we did get to enjoy a nice game night with Mom and Gary on Saturday evening. We played guys against girls in Sequence.
The “girls” lost three times in a row! It was a serious beating! Mom and I were more than happy to throw in the towel after three consecutive losing games, even though the guys were willing to keep playing…and keep winning!
Sunday was church, and (to be honest) it was kind of a mixed bag.
We enjoyed the service, as always, but I’m always so lonely. I still can’t get used to not being part of a social network at church.
Maybe these women do things together during the week that I’m just not a part of. I don’t know. I mean, we don’t have kids, so we’re not home schooling or even regular schooling. We’re not adopting. Maybe we just don’t have common ground. It shouldn’t matter, but who knows?
Karyn and Heidi came up and talked to me for a while, and I really appreciated it. Otherwise, I felt like a spot on the carpet, nearly invisible.
Sunday evening was a treat – we watched a movie! Time Changers – a Christian movie about a man who travels forward in time (from 1890) to present day and sees what his views were leading the world towards. It was actually a very nice movie. Some vaguely funny scenes and a good message.
I’ve been spoiled by Hollywood (take that any way you want), so I put my inner movie critic on hold and just enjoyed the fellowship and the message behind the movie.
There was even popcorn, lemonade, and iced tea to enjoy with the movie. What a great concept!
Brett and I didn’t get any popcorn, even though we went back for it numerous times. The little kids just kept going past us to the front of the line (for four and five helpings), and we just didn’t feel it was our place to point out that we adults were waiting for popcorn, too.
After all, it’s just popcorn!
Next time, I’ll pop some 94% Fat Free in advance and bring it with us!
It was a wonderful atmosphere, and we enjoyed the movie. But afterwards, driving home, we were both kind of depressed by our lack of church friends.
Brett asked me how I felt, since I think he could tell I was a little down.
“I just feel like I don’t know how to make friends with these people.” I told him. “There’s just not that familiarity yet, I guess. It bums me out because until now I felt like I really could make friends with anybody!”
Still, as I was praying this morning, I said those words (that my mother taught me SO long ago), “I only want to have the friends God wants me to have.”
So I prayed God would provide me with godly friends in HIS time, in HIS place, and from the people HE chooses.
I can’t argue with that!
I do have to say I’ve especially appreciated Heidi, Karyn, and Joy and how they’ve always stopped to talk to me. I thrive on conversation, and it means a lot to me.
God HAS generously provided their kind friendship!
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Early Morning Murder (She Wrote, That Is)
Some days I lament marrying my complete opposite.
“What was I thinking?” I’ll ask myself as my sometimes-better half drags out his old pup tent while I pull on my purse to head to the movies.
Our ideas of recreation (save for one :-) are SO very different. I go shopping. He goes shooting. I like the sit down ambiance of an Applebee’s, while he goes for Arby’s (where he doesn’t have to tip anybody). I take the most direct route to a destination; he meanders all over creation trying to get “the lay of the land.”
All I’ve learned about the “lay of the land” is that it tends to make us late.
Speaking of which, I hate to be late. I’m from a family where we set our clock ahead ten minutes to avoid ever being late. I’m an early bird.
Then I married my husband.
Being late is a part of his family heritage. I’ve been to family “lunch” barbeques when the grill didn’t get fired up until 8:00 p.m. They are the kind of people who call to invite you to a birthday party a scant two hours before it actually happens. They are the people who show up late for EVERYTHING and act amazed that you “started” without them.
The problem with being late for something when you are a woman is that people assume it’s because YOU took so long to get ready. They take one look at you and think, “Way to shellac that hair into place, lady. Why don’t you work on saving the earth and try to be on time for a change?”
While your husband, who can get ready in less than five minutes, shrugs his shoulders like, “You know women…”
HA! I laugh out loud! HA! I was SO ready. I was the one tugging you out of bed at the last five minutes threatening divorce to try and wake you up enough to stumble your way to the shower.
I’d like to state for the record all the times “we’ve” been late for anything. IT WASN’T ME!
I guess when you are married to your complete opposite you tend to appreciate the shared interests even more. Like for instance, when we were bored out of our minds last night, it was easy enough to pull out Sequence and get a rip-roaring game going. We played in our room, where we would stop occasionally and laugh at our bunnies’ antics. We talked about our days as we pounced on each others’ game pieces and unapologetically played DEFENSE!
And sometimes, being married to an opposite works to your advantage. Like this morning, I got up early to watch my Murder She Wrote DVD while Brett (an admitted sleepyhead) slept in. As soon as he was getting up and getting ready, my shows were finishing, and we switched places while I went and got ready. It was nice use of shared time, and I do so cherish my alone time in the morning.
I have a friend who is married to a man who is energetic and likes to get up early with her and start the day off together. “It drives me nuts,” she admitted to me at lunch recently. “All I really want is a couple hours alone!”
So, I guess it all even out in the end. Perhaps the best thing about the oppositely-married situation is that you don’t tend to force your idea of fun on the other person because you know that they don’t want your idea of fun either.
In other words, I don’t ask Brett to go to movies, so I don’t have to go camping. Ever.
Because you know if I ever WAS to be late for anything…that would be it.
“What was I thinking?” I’ll ask myself as my sometimes-better half drags out his old pup tent while I pull on my purse to head to the movies.
Our ideas of recreation (save for one :-) are SO very different. I go shopping. He goes shooting. I like the sit down ambiance of an Applebee’s, while he goes for Arby’s (where he doesn’t have to tip anybody). I take the most direct route to a destination; he meanders all over creation trying to get “the lay of the land.”
All I’ve learned about the “lay of the land” is that it tends to make us late.
Speaking of which, I hate to be late. I’m from a family where we set our clock ahead ten minutes to avoid ever being late. I’m an early bird.
Then I married my husband.
Being late is a part of his family heritage. I’ve been to family “lunch” barbeques when the grill didn’t get fired up until 8:00 p.m. They are the kind of people who call to invite you to a birthday party a scant two hours before it actually happens. They are the people who show up late for EVERYTHING and act amazed that you “started” without them.
The problem with being late for something when you are a woman is that people assume it’s because YOU took so long to get ready. They take one look at you and think, “Way to shellac that hair into place, lady. Why don’t you work on saving the earth and try to be on time for a change?”
While your husband, who can get ready in less than five minutes, shrugs his shoulders like, “You know women…”
HA! I laugh out loud! HA! I was SO ready. I was the one tugging you out of bed at the last five minutes threatening divorce to try and wake you up enough to stumble your way to the shower.
I’d like to state for the record all the times “we’ve” been late for anything. IT WASN’T ME!
I guess when you are married to your complete opposite you tend to appreciate the shared interests even more. Like for instance, when we were bored out of our minds last night, it was easy enough to pull out Sequence and get a rip-roaring game going. We played in our room, where we would stop occasionally and laugh at our bunnies’ antics. We talked about our days as we pounced on each others’ game pieces and unapologetically played DEFENSE!
And sometimes, being married to an opposite works to your advantage. Like this morning, I got up early to watch my Murder She Wrote DVD while Brett (an admitted sleepyhead) slept in. As soon as he was getting up and getting ready, my shows were finishing, and we switched places while I went and got ready. It was nice use of shared time, and I do so cherish my alone time in the morning.
I have a friend who is married to a man who is energetic and likes to get up early with her and start the day off together. “It drives me nuts,” she admitted to me at lunch recently. “All I really want is a couple hours alone!”
So, I guess it all even out in the end. Perhaps the best thing about the oppositely-married situation is that you don’t tend to force your idea of fun on the other person because you know that they don’t want your idea of fun either.
In other words, I don’t ask Brett to go to movies, so I don’t have to go camping. Ever.
Because you know if I ever WAS to be late for anything…that would be it.
Friday, July 20, 2007
An Oldie but a Goodie
A friend e-mailed this to me today. I have heard it before, but it still made me laugh!
A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe-box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.
For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe-box and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box.
When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000. He asked her about the contents. "When we were to be married," she said, "my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll."
The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. "Honey," he said, "that explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?"
"Oh," she said, “That’s the money I made from selling the dolls."
A Prayer
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; and to forgive him; And Patience for his moods; because, if I pray for strength, I'll beat him to death. And I don't know how to crochet. Amen.
A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe-box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.
For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe-box and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box.
When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000. He asked her about the contents. "When we were to be married," she said, "my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll."
The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. "Honey," he said, "that explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?"
"Oh," she said, “That’s the money I made from selling the dolls."
A Prayer
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; and to forgive him; And Patience for his moods; because, if I pray for strength, I'll beat him to death. And I don't know how to crochet. Amen.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Brand New Blog
True to my word, I started a FAT Blog. Kudos to Tancy for blazing the trail before me.
The name for my new blog came late in the game and in a sudden whirl of inspiration. It just seemed to fit (unlike my current pair of jeans).
I settled on Breaking the Scale, because it can be taken numerous ways.
First, there is the possibility of being (or feeling) so fat you fear stepping on the scale will cause it to implode.
Secondly, breaking the habit of weighing yourself, of reducing your personhood to mere numbers, is an accomplishment.
Thirdly, the way I like to think of it, breaking the scale is a way of showing you are who YOU are and (while you should pursue a healthy lifestyle) not who or what the rest of the world thinks you should be.
Feel free to check it out.
But, again, let me warn you. If you are not a fiendish food freak who obsesses over every meal and morsel, you might find it incredibly dull.
But if you’ve ever actually WANTED to break a scale (over your knee) please head on over and check it out.
I’ve linked to it on the right!
The name for my new blog came late in the game and in a sudden whirl of inspiration. It just seemed to fit (unlike my current pair of jeans).
I settled on Breaking the Scale, because it can be taken numerous ways.
First, there is the possibility of being (or feeling) so fat you fear stepping on the scale will cause it to implode.
Secondly, breaking the habit of weighing yourself, of reducing your personhood to mere numbers, is an accomplishment.
Thirdly, the way I like to think of it, breaking the scale is a way of showing you are who YOU are and (while you should pursue a healthy lifestyle) not who or what the rest of the world thinks you should be.
Feel free to check it out.
But, again, let me warn you. If you are not a fiendish food freak who obsesses over every meal and morsel, you might find it incredibly dull.
But if you’ve ever actually WANTED to break a scale (over your knee) please head on over and check it out.
I’ve linked to it on the right!
Two Articles
As someone who can be both ambivalent and excited about the possiblity of having or adopting children, I found these two articles especially interesting!
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19762056/site/newsweek/page/0/
http://lifestyle.msn.com/familyandparenting/raisingkids/articleab.aspx?cp-documentid=454101>1=10215
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19762056/site/newsweek/page/0/
http://lifestyle.msn.com/familyandparenting/raisingkids/articleab.aspx?cp-documentid=454101>1=10215
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Antics of the Elderly
There is an amazing network of older, retired people in the area who will come and volunteer for various jobs at local organizations. One of these organizations is my company.
Yesterday, we had several of these volunteers help us with a 1,500 piece mailing.
And, oh my, did I laugh!
The morning group consisted of two retired couples and two single ladies. They were a very efficient group and did the bulk of the work.
The afternoon group was a delegation of single, feisty women who were, well, how should I say…amusingly crotchety.
My favorite was Gladys. She was partially blind and very frail. Her job was to seal the envelopes using a glue stick sealer. Well, the poor woman was half blind, so for a while she was sealing the wrong side of the envelopes.
Thankfully, the other women caught her and yelled down the table, “GLADYS, THAT’S THE WRONG SIDE!”
Gladys was embarrassed, so I went and got a colored sheet of paper to put under the envelopes so she could see the color difference and seal the envelope correctly.
Because she was so frail, poor Gladys couldn’t squeeze the envelope sealer very well. She kept trying, pressing the flap closed, and passing it to the woman doing the stamping, Rosemarie.
Rosemarie, who was starting to get annoyed, kept passing it back. “IT’S NOT SEALED, GLADYS. YOU HAVE TO SQUEEZE IT HARDER!”
“I AM SQUEEZING IT!” Gladys would yell back. Frustrated, Rosemarie finally started “re-sealing” the envelopes from Gladys.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING MY JOB? THAT’S MY JOB!” Gladys complained.
Finally, I convinced Gladys to take a break.
“Oh, you have doughnuts,” she said. “I love doughnuts. Maybe you have my favorite kind.”
“What kind are those?” I asked.
“The kind with holes,” Rosemarie muttered under her breath while re-sealing all of Gladys’ envelopes behind her back.
I had to bite my tongue to stop from laughing.
Back at the table, Gladys chomped down and said, “These are the worst doughnuts ever. They’re so bland.”
“Gladys,” Rosemary sighed. “That isn’t a doughnut. That’s a bagel. The doughnuts are on the other table.”
I left the room for minute so I didn’t burst out with laughter.
Later, when the ladies were leaving, Gladys headed out to the car and promptly tried to open the trunk to get in. One of the other ladies, the one who was driving, directed Gladys to the passenger side and helped her in.
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed for a good twenty minutes.
Days like these, I love my job, and the joy it brings! God bless the elderly…and Gladys.
Yesterday, we had several of these volunteers help us with a 1,500 piece mailing.
And, oh my, did I laugh!
The morning group consisted of two retired couples and two single ladies. They were a very efficient group and did the bulk of the work.
The afternoon group was a delegation of single, feisty women who were, well, how should I say…amusingly crotchety.
My favorite was Gladys. She was partially blind and very frail. Her job was to seal the envelopes using a glue stick sealer. Well, the poor woman was half blind, so for a while she was sealing the wrong side of the envelopes.
Thankfully, the other women caught her and yelled down the table, “GLADYS, THAT’S THE WRONG SIDE!”
Gladys was embarrassed, so I went and got a colored sheet of paper to put under the envelopes so she could see the color difference and seal the envelope correctly.
Because she was so frail, poor Gladys couldn’t squeeze the envelope sealer very well. She kept trying, pressing the flap closed, and passing it to the woman doing the stamping, Rosemarie.
Rosemarie, who was starting to get annoyed, kept passing it back. “IT’S NOT SEALED, GLADYS. YOU HAVE TO SQUEEZE IT HARDER!”
“I AM SQUEEZING IT!” Gladys would yell back. Frustrated, Rosemarie finally started “re-sealing” the envelopes from Gladys.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING MY JOB? THAT’S MY JOB!” Gladys complained.
Finally, I convinced Gladys to take a break.
“Oh, you have doughnuts,” she said. “I love doughnuts. Maybe you have my favorite kind.”
“What kind are those?” I asked.
“The kind with holes,” Rosemarie muttered under her breath while re-sealing all of Gladys’ envelopes behind her back.
I had to bite my tongue to stop from laughing.
Back at the table, Gladys chomped down and said, “These are the worst doughnuts ever. They’re so bland.”
“Gladys,” Rosemary sighed. “That isn’t a doughnut. That’s a bagel. The doughnuts are on the other table.”
I left the room for minute so I didn’t burst out with laughter.
Later, when the ladies were leaving, Gladys headed out to the car and promptly tried to open the trunk to get in. One of the other ladies, the one who was driving, directed Gladys to the passenger side and helped her in.
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed for a good twenty minutes.
Days like these, I love my job, and the joy it brings! God bless the elderly…and Gladys.
Don’t Threaten Me
Yeah, so um, there is this one thing I don’t respond really well to.
That would be threats.
When my middle school bully was shoving me face first into a wooden door and shouting threats into my ear, I found my only sliver of courage and stepped on his foot hard enough for him to release his grasp. I shoved back at him and ran way.
Threats just make me mad.
My dad, one of the most peaceful men who ever walked this earth, was the same way. He said the only thing that made him fighting mad was when he was forced into a corner.
That said, I’m downright TIRED and starting to get annoyed that people are sending me e-mails, repeatedly, which predict dire threats to my health and well-being if I don’t forward the e-mail on to ten, fifteen, or thirty people.
I’m not doing it.
For myself, I have a solid “no threats” policy. If I do forward something on, I make sure there are no qualifications or directives. I just wish other people would have the same consideration.
WHEN will people learn that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar (or threats)?
That would be threats.
When my middle school bully was shoving me face first into a wooden door and shouting threats into my ear, I found my only sliver of courage and stepped on his foot hard enough for him to release his grasp. I shoved back at him and ran way.
Threats just make me mad.
My dad, one of the most peaceful men who ever walked this earth, was the same way. He said the only thing that made him fighting mad was when he was forced into a corner.
That said, I’m downright TIRED and starting to get annoyed that people are sending me e-mails, repeatedly, which predict dire threats to my health and well-being if I don’t forward the e-mail on to ten, fifteen, or thirty people.
I’m not doing it.
For myself, I have a solid “no threats” policy. If I do forward something on, I make sure there are no qualifications or directives. I just wish other people would have the same consideration.
WHEN will people learn that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar (or threats)?
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Sunday Sickness
I wrote this on Sunday night but couldn't post it until this morning! Sorry for the delay. On to the post...
I had a mostly wonderful, active weekend.
At least, until I started throwing up.
We’re not really sure what caused my recent bout with food poisoning (or a really, really mini-flu bug). It was either the Cracker Barrel brunch on Saturday morning or the Game Night Group potluck Saturday night.
I’m leaning towards Cracker Barrel, as I felt slightly ill at Game Night right when we got there and before I’d eaten anything.
Either way, I spent a nice, nauseous Sunday running back and forth to the bathroom.
You know, I never used to get sick. I’m not sure what has happened to my immune system! I seem to get food poisoning or stomach troubles at the drop of a hat nowadays.
Maybe it’s food allergies?
I just really, really hope I’m not allergic to cheese. If I am, then I guess I’m destined for an early grave since I am NOT giving up cheese.
Back to the less-disgusting part of the weekend – Angie and I had to skip dinner on Friday, since she was running late. I tend to cut her a lot of slack, since I think having five kids is a pretty good excuse to need a few extra minutes!
But we did get to see the movies!
We watched Live Free or Die Hard again (since she hadn’t seen it yet). No crying babies this time! And it was still as good as I remembered.
Transformers was chock full of toddlers and babies, but since the movie was awful…I didn’t mind so much. I hadn’t exactly been bursting with hope, but Angie remembered the Transformers “era” and wanted to see it.
Afterwards, she told me that she thought it was really irresponsible for people to bring kids to “that kind” of movie.
On my honor, I didn’t say a word!!! Aren’t you proud of me?
Then we called Brett, and he met us for the 9:30 p.m. showing of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
I don’t know how they manage it, but the HP movies keep getting better! The three of us really enjoyed it, and it was easily the best movie of the night. AND since Brett and I were able to use our free movie passes, it was also a savings of $17. Yea!
Too bad we spent $20.50 at the concession stand. Hey, I TOLD you we skipped dinner.
Brett and I had “brunch” Saturday morning at Cracker Barrel. As I mentioned, it may have been where my stomach bug was activated. But I didn’t know that at the time, so I had a really good time.
In the evening, we went to Game Night Group, and it was one of the rare times we didn’t actually play any games! The group hadn’t gotten together in two months, so we all had massive catching up (and celebrating) to do.
We celebrated a graduation, a promotion, and four birthdays!
There was a LOT of delicious food, and the conversation was SO much fun. We got caught up on everybody’s lives. Jeanette and I huddled in a corner and reminisced about growing up at Memorial/Rockford Baptist School.
Mom, Aunt Annette, and Mary took a walk, and later a bunch of people went over to Mary’s house to see her amazing garden. We grilled out, and eventually, the teens started playing Wii.
Brett was intrigued, and I was shocked when they (the teens) invited him to play virtual reality tennis with them. I was even MORE shocked when he accepted.
You know how Brett feels about kids? Yeah? Well, double that for teens. Now you know why I was shocked!
The three teens and Brett played Tennis, Bowling, and Baseball on the Wii. Michele and I cheered on from the sidelines and laughed our heads off!
We left Andrea’s (Game Night Group Headquarters – in Durand) LATE, and by the time we got home and in bed, I knew something was seriously wrong with my stomach.
So, I’ve spent most of today resting and “restrooming” it. I’m hoping that taking it easy today will allow me to work a full week next week! I’ve got a major project to finish, and a meeting that I’m dreading.
I know I’m a professional, but there are just some meetings it is so hard to care about, since I’m creative…not necessarily logistical!
Oh, well – it’s my job, and I love it 95% of the time!
At least, I wasn’t alone today. I had the remaining Murder She Wrote episodes on my DVD and the very first three episodes of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman to keep me company!
I’d forgotten how much I liked that show! I’d also forgotten (apparently) how much happened in the first three episodes. I thought it took SEASONS for these things to happen, but the ball obviously started rolling a lot earlier than I remembered.
The attraction between Dr. Quinn and Sully was almost immediate. Horace (Post Office Guy) and Myra (Lady of the Evening) were interested in each other almost right way. And Robert E. (Blacksmith) and Grace were already eyeing each other!
Who knew?! Either way, it made my sick Sunday go a lot faster. And my sweet husband brought me a Culver’s shake and mashed potatoes for dinner.
I love that man!
This week, at night anyway, should be much less active that the past…month. I don’t have plans for any night this week, and so I’m hoping I can finally start getting caught up.
I have to sometime, don’t I?
I had a mostly wonderful, active weekend.
At least, until I started throwing up.
We’re not really sure what caused my recent bout with food poisoning (or a really, really mini-flu bug). It was either the Cracker Barrel brunch on Saturday morning or the Game Night Group potluck Saturday night.
I’m leaning towards Cracker Barrel, as I felt slightly ill at Game Night right when we got there and before I’d eaten anything.
Either way, I spent a nice, nauseous Sunday running back and forth to the bathroom.
You know, I never used to get sick. I’m not sure what has happened to my immune system! I seem to get food poisoning or stomach troubles at the drop of a hat nowadays.
Maybe it’s food allergies?
I just really, really hope I’m not allergic to cheese. If I am, then I guess I’m destined for an early grave since I am NOT giving up cheese.
Back to the less-disgusting part of the weekend – Angie and I had to skip dinner on Friday, since she was running late. I tend to cut her a lot of slack, since I think having five kids is a pretty good excuse to need a few extra minutes!
But we did get to see the movies!
We watched Live Free or Die Hard again (since she hadn’t seen it yet). No crying babies this time! And it was still as good as I remembered.
Transformers was chock full of toddlers and babies, but since the movie was awful…I didn’t mind so much. I hadn’t exactly been bursting with hope, but Angie remembered the Transformers “era” and wanted to see it.
Afterwards, she told me that she thought it was really irresponsible for people to bring kids to “that kind” of movie.
On my honor, I didn’t say a word!!! Aren’t you proud of me?
Then we called Brett, and he met us for the 9:30 p.m. showing of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
I don’t know how they manage it, but the HP movies keep getting better! The three of us really enjoyed it, and it was easily the best movie of the night. AND since Brett and I were able to use our free movie passes, it was also a savings of $17. Yea!
Too bad we spent $20.50 at the concession stand. Hey, I TOLD you we skipped dinner.
Brett and I had “brunch” Saturday morning at Cracker Barrel. As I mentioned, it may have been where my stomach bug was activated. But I didn’t know that at the time, so I had a really good time.
In the evening, we went to Game Night Group, and it was one of the rare times we didn’t actually play any games! The group hadn’t gotten together in two months, so we all had massive catching up (and celebrating) to do.
We celebrated a graduation, a promotion, and four birthdays!
There was a LOT of delicious food, and the conversation was SO much fun. We got caught up on everybody’s lives. Jeanette and I huddled in a corner and reminisced about growing up at Memorial/Rockford Baptist School.
Mom, Aunt Annette, and Mary took a walk, and later a bunch of people went over to Mary’s house to see her amazing garden. We grilled out, and eventually, the teens started playing Wii.
Brett was intrigued, and I was shocked when they (the teens) invited him to play virtual reality tennis with them. I was even MORE shocked when he accepted.
You know how Brett feels about kids? Yeah? Well, double that for teens. Now you know why I was shocked!
The three teens and Brett played Tennis, Bowling, and Baseball on the Wii. Michele and I cheered on from the sidelines and laughed our heads off!
We left Andrea’s (Game Night Group Headquarters – in Durand) LATE, and by the time we got home and in bed, I knew something was seriously wrong with my stomach.
So, I’ve spent most of today resting and “restrooming” it. I’m hoping that taking it easy today will allow me to work a full week next week! I’ve got a major project to finish, and a meeting that I’m dreading.
I know I’m a professional, but there are just some meetings it is so hard to care about, since I’m creative…not necessarily logistical!
Oh, well – it’s my job, and I love it 95% of the time!
At least, I wasn’t alone today. I had the remaining Murder She Wrote episodes on my DVD and the very first three episodes of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman to keep me company!
I’d forgotten how much I liked that show! I’d also forgotten (apparently) how much happened in the first three episodes. I thought it took SEASONS for these things to happen, but the ball obviously started rolling a lot earlier than I remembered.
The attraction between Dr. Quinn and Sully was almost immediate. Horace (Post Office Guy) and Myra (Lady of the Evening) were interested in each other almost right way. And Robert E. (Blacksmith) and Grace were already eyeing each other!
Who knew?! Either way, it made my sick Sunday go a lot faster. And my sweet husband brought me a Culver’s shake and mashed potatoes for dinner.
I love that man!
This week, at night anyway, should be much less active that the past…month. I don’t have plans for any night this week, and so I’m hoping I can finally start getting caught up.
I have to sometime, don’t I?
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Nocturnal Noise Maker
Rabbits are nocturnal. We knew that when we decided to become rabbit parents. And the truth is we rarely had any problems with the bunnies waking us up at night. It seemed that having the lights out made them calmer and less likely to make noise.
Although I will point out how we ridiculously spoil our furry friends by noting each bunny does have a nightlight in his/her favorite spot.
When Brett started working the night shift, I was transported back to my childhood and my innate fear of the dark (and of vampires who looked like Tom Bosley. But that’s another story). So, I began sleeping with the bathroom light (okay, okay, and the closet light, the bedside lamp, and the hall light) on.
The rabbits then seemed to come alive at night. Peyton would jump on the bed (something he had never done and has never done since) to make sure I was okay (often when I was sleeping and would then wake up and scream thinking in my clouded brain that giant furry rats were coming to devour me).
Hannah would try to pull the AC vent out the floor with her teeth. Both bunnies would chase each other around all night playing, leaping, and jumping. It kept me up all night. But the noise was better than the dark, and I managed to survive.
When Brett started working days again, things went back to normal. The bunnies settled down at night like before. Then, this past week, at 2:00 a.m., we heard an unusual scraping noise. We looked around our bedroom in the dim light and couldn’t see anything. I finally made out Hannah’s lumpy shape sprawled on the floor, and then we started looking for Peyton.
Peyton is often the hardest bunny to find since he is (a) brown and blends in with everything. On occasion, Brett and I have both thought he was a pair of socks, underwear, or a discarded clothes heap on the floor (b) a great hider and (c) often doesn’t want to be found. Still, we couldn’t find him.
THEN, I saw a tip of brown peeking out of a white bucket on a shelf – a shelf three and a half feet off the ground! It was Peyton!
How on earth he managed to jump three feet up and land directly in the middle of a bucket, I’ll never know. He had to jump directly into the bucket, since had he jumped anywhere else on the shelf; he would have caused an avalanche of books and bunny toys.
The poor little guy was so confused. He couldn’t hoist himself out of the bucket, so he’d started turning in circles to see if there was an exit - but to no avail. So he’d finally resorted to hooking his front paws over the side of the bucket and pushing his nose up as far as possible (hoping, I guess, that Mom or Dad would see him).
Which we almost didn’t in the dark. Thankfully, he’s overdue for a nail trim, and the noise that woke us was his nails scraping the side of the bucket.
Poor little befuddled bunny! I covered the bucket (so he wouldn’t jump out as I lowered the bucket) and put the bucket on the ground, so he could jump out. He immediately ran around my ankles in a happy freedom dance, before heading to Hannah (no doubt to extract some sympathy grooming and impress her with tales of his valiant adventure).
Brett and I just sat in bed laughing and bemoaning our current no-camera status!
And people think rabbits are pets without personality! Ha!
Although I will point out how we ridiculously spoil our furry friends by noting each bunny does have a nightlight in his/her favorite spot.
When Brett started working the night shift, I was transported back to my childhood and my innate fear of the dark (and of vampires who looked like Tom Bosley. But that’s another story). So, I began sleeping with the bathroom light (okay, okay, and the closet light, the bedside lamp, and the hall light) on.
The rabbits then seemed to come alive at night. Peyton would jump on the bed (something he had never done and has never done since) to make sure I was okay (often when I was sleeping and would then wake up and scream thinking in my clouded brain that giant furry rats were coming to devour me).
Hannah would try to pull the AC vent out the floor with her teeth. Both bunnies would chase each other around all night playing, leaping, and jumping. It kept me up all night. But the noise was better than the dark, and I managed to survive.
When Brett started working days again, things went back to normal. The bunnies settled down at night like before. Then, this past week, at 2:00 a.m., we heard an unusual scraping noise. We looked around our bedroom in the dim light and couldn’t see anything. I finally made out Hannah’s lumpy shape sprawled on the floor, and then we started looking for Peyton.
Peyton is often the hardest bunny to find since he is (a) brown and blends in with everything. On occasion, Brett and I have both thought he was a pair of socks, underwear, or a discarded clothes heap on the floor (b) a great hider and (c) often doesn’t want to be found. Still, we couldn’t find him.
THEN, I saw a tip of brown peeking out of a white bucket on a shelf – a shelf three and a half feet off the ground! It was Peyton!
How on earth he managed to jump three feet up and land directly in the middle of a bucket, I’ll never know. He had to jump directly into the bucket, since had he jumped anywhere else on the shelf; he would have caused an avalanche of books and bunny toys.
The poor little guy was so confused. He couldn’t hoist himself out of the bucket, so he’d started turning in circles to see if there was an exit - but to no avail. So he’d finally resorted to hooking his front paws over the side of the bucket and pushing his nose up as far as possible (hoping, I guess, that Mom or Dad would see him).
Which we almost didn’t in the dark. Thankfully, he’s overdue for a nail trim, and the noise that woke us was his nails scraping the side of the bucket.
Poor little befuddled bunny! I covered the bucket (so he wouldn’t jump out as I lowered the bucket) and put the bucket on the ground, so he could jump out. He immediately ran around my ankles in a happy freedom dance, before heading to Hannah (no doubt to extract some sympathy grooming and impress her with tales of his valiant adventure).
Brett and I just sat in bed laughing and bemoaning our current no-camera status!
And people think rabbits are pets without personality! Ha!
The Forgetful Friend
Here I was thinking how it was going to be nice to take Friday at my own pace.
Our summer hours are still in effect, so I’ll be getting off at 1:00 p.m. And it’s PAYDAY (yea!)! Then yesterday, I get an e-mail from Angie talking about how much she is looking forward to our movie night this Friday.
“WHAT???” I think. I am so organized with my calendar, and somehow I completely missed this! I double checked my back e-mails – yes, I save my back e-mails; I know I’m a tad OCD – and sure enough, there it was. Me, in black and white, agreeing to a movie night on (gasp!) Friday the 13th! I’m not sure how I missed it!
Anyway, it didn’t really feel right to break the date (even though I have hardly been home this week) since I haven’t seen Angie since her mission trip to Mexico. Plus, she’s been stuck inside with five children on summer break since she got back, and I could tell she was really looking forward to it.
To be honest, I haven’t told Brett yet. He’s normally super supportive and understanding of my need for an outside social life, but there are times when I think he feels neglected. His favorite line is, “I didn’t get married to stay home alone at night. I could have stayed single and done that!”
Plus he is off work on Fridays now, and so he’s actually available to DO stuff on the weekend!
Since the new Harry Potter is on Angie’s schedule, I’m thinking we can invite Brett to see that one with us. That way he won’t feel left out. And since HP is the last movie of the night, Angie and I should still have plenty of girl time beforehand. To prove what a great friend she is, Angie was even okay with me inviting Brett on part of “our” girl movie night.
This is especially nice of Angie, since she and Brett don’t always get along. I once said they were too much alike, and they turned on me…so I don’t say THAT anymore. Still, it was very kind of her to be okay with me adding a third wheel.
We are planning to grab quick eats at Atlanta Bread Company, and then hit Live Free or Die Hard (she hasn’t seen it yet), Transformers, and then Harry Potter at Showplace 16. See, it’s a good thing I get paid today. Otherwise, it would be Murder She Wrote Netflix at home, you know?
Speaking of Netflix, I’m starting a new series…wait for it….Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman! I LOVED that series when it was on air. I can still remember how mad I was when they switched “Colleen’s” in the middle of the series! Hmmm…
Well, anyway, it should be an even busier weekend that I anticipated. Today is the movie night, tomorrow is Game Night Group, and Sunday is church.
And there is this cool wedding thing going on at Midway Village this weekend (http://www.midwayvillage.org/default.asp?page=upcomingevents&nav=upcomingevents&neventid=46) that I was kind of thinking of attending! We’ll just have to see!
You know, I think my house is NEVER going to get cleaned! But that’s okay, since my theory is –
“A Clean House is the Sign of a Misspent Life!”
Our summer hours are still in effect, so I’ll be getting off at 1:00 p.m. And it’s PAYDAY (yea!)! Then yesterday, I get an e-mail from Angie talking about how much she is looking forward to our movie night this Friday.
“WHAT???” I think. I am so organized with my calendar, and somehow I completely missed this! I double checked my back e-mails – yes, I save my back e-mails; I know I’m a tad OCD – and sure enough, there it was. Me, in black and white, agreeing to a movie night on (gasp!) Friday the 13th! I’m not sure how I missed it!
Anyway, it didn’t really feel right to break the date (even though I have hardly been home this week) since I haven’t seen Angie since her mission trip to Mexico. Plus, she’s been stuck inside with five children on summer break since she got back, and I could tell she was really looking forward to it.
To be honest, I haven’t told Brett yet. He’s normally super supportive and understanding of my need for an outside social life, but there are times when I think he feels neglected. His favorite line is, “I didn’t get married to stay home alone at night. I could have stayed single and done that!”
Plus he is off work on Fridays now, and so he’s actually available to DO stuff on the weekend!
Since the new Harry Potter is on Angie’s schedule, I’m thinking we can invite Brett to see that one with us. That way he won’t feel left out. And since HP is the last movie of the night, Angie and I should still have plenty of girl time beforehand. To prove what a great friend she is, Angie was even okay with me inviting Brett on part of “our” girl movie night.
This is especially nice of Angie, since she and Brett don’t always get along. I once said they were too much alike, and they turned on me…so I don’t say THAT anymore. Still, it was very kind of her to be okay with me adding a third wheel.
We are planning to grab quick eats at Atlanta Bread Company, and then hit Live Free or Die Hard (she hasn’t seen it yet), Transformers, and then Harry Potter at Showplace 16. See, it’s a good thing I get paid today. Otherwise, it would be Murder She Wrote Netflix at home, you know?
Speaking of Netflix, I’m starting a new series…wait for it….Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman! I LOVED that series when it was on air. I can still remember how mad I was when they switched “Colleen’s” in the middle of the series! Hmmm…
Well, anyway, it should be an even busier weekend that I anticipated. Today is the movie night, tomorrow is Game Night Group, and Sunday is church.
And there is this cool wedding thing going on at Midway Village this weekend (http://www.midwayvillage.org/default.asp?page=upcomingevents&nav=upcomingevents&neventid=46) that I was kind of thinking of attending! We’ll just have to see!
You know, I think my house is NEVER going to get cleaned! But that’s okay, since my theory is –
“A Clean House is the Sign of a Misspent Life!”
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Wednesday Recap
Last night was a much needed respite from running around. Just me and my heating pad.
That’s right – 62 days later – TOM finally arrived.
Brett picked a movie for us to watch last night while I was bundled up with my heating pad, eating an Eskimo pie (I have weird TOM cravings). He picked Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. When I mentioned the new Harry Potter movie opened July 11 and suggested we use our FREE movie passes (from the Live Free or Die Hard fiasco) to see it, I was VERY surprised when he readily agreed.
I think Harry Potter movies will be one of those movie series we bond over – much like our shared Star Wars, Mummy, and Indiana Jones obsession.
Still, I AM excited, since I really do want to see it. Although, I don’t know whether we should go Friday afternoon or Saturday morning. This weekend is going to be full as it is.
I’ve got to:
Clean the bunny areas
Go grocery/household shopping
Do a little actual house cleaning
Then we have Game Night Group Saturday night. And of course, there is church on Sunday.
I’m praying God will help me use my time wisely. It’s hard thing for me to do on my own, since I am notably lazy.
This morning for instance (and I’m blaming this on TOM), I was up with Brett (from 4:45 – 5:15 a.m.) and as soon as he left for work, I went back to bed and slept until 8:00 a.m.
8:00 a.m.!!!!! I was SO late for work! Thankfully, I have flexible hours, but STILL!
Oh well, at least the weekend’s almost here!
That’s right – 62 days later – TOM finally arrived.
Brett picked a movie for us to watch last night while I was bundled up with my heating pad, eating an Eskimo pie (I have weird TOM cravings). He picked Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. When I mentioned the new Harry Potter movie opened July 11 and suggested we use our FREE movie passes (from the Live Free or Die Hard fiasco) to see it, I was VERY surprised when he readily agreed.
I think Harry Potter movies will be one of those movie series we bond over – much like our shared Star Wars, Mummy, and Indiana Jones obsession.
Still, I AM excited, since I really do want to see it. Although, I don’t know whether we should go Friday afternoon or Saturday morning. This weekend is going to be full as it is.
I’ve got to:
Clean the bunny areas
Go grocery/household shopping
Do a little actual house cleaning
Then we have Game Night Group Saturday night. And of course, there is church on Sunday.
I’m praying God will help me use my time wisely. It’s hard thing for me to do on my own, since I am notably lazy.
This morning for instance (and I’m blaming this on TOM), I was up with Brett (from 4:45 – 5:15 a.m.) and as soon as he left for work, I went back to bed and slept until 8:00 a.m.
8:00 a.m.!!!!! I was SO late for work! Thankfully, I have flexible hours, but STILL!
Oh well, at least the weekend’s almost here!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Jewelry @ Jeanette’s
Well, I bought some more jewelry! I’m going to go broke if I keep getting invited to lia sophia jewelry parties. Thankfully, Jeanette booked her party from my party (ages ago), and so I was able to purchase my necklace at half-price. Yea! A bargain! I bought the Anew necklace (see photo at right).
Of course, it WAS fun! We met at my friend Jeanette’s new house out in Winnebago. I picked Mom up beforehand, and the two of us carpooled to the party. We took a tour of the new house, enjoyed the jewelry party, and then ate J’s delicious snacks!
She had a really good crowd! There were 12 or so people there, and I knew most of them. There were about 5 churches represented in the group, so we all dished on what was new at our church. It’s NOT gossip, if we talked about the GOOD stuff, right?
I have some nice photos that I’ll post real soon. Promise!
Well, I’ve got a CRAZY day ahead of me as usual, so this is one of my (rare) short posts!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Cartoons & Culver's with Carleen
I’m not sure Christians are supposed to believe in being psychic. But I think I am a little, tiny bit psychic.
Well, only with my friend Carleen.
The two of us have this weird sort of bond where we always think of and call each other within moments of the other one thinking about us. It’s not unusual for either of us to say, “It’s so weird that you just called. I was about to call you!”
I’ve never had that with anyone before, but since we WANT to see each other, it’s a nice little phenomenon.
Now if I could only do the same thing with lottery numbers.
Either way, Carleen called me (just as she had crossed MY mind – freaky!) and said that she missed me, and we should get together. Now I know I’m 28 (almost 29!), and I should have more self confidence than to be absolutely floored that someone actually likes to be around me and misses it when we don’t get to spend time together. But I’m not. It still felt nice. I went all gooey-friendshipy warm inside.
Carleen and I used to work together, before she climbed the corporate ladder and became the CEO of a local company. She eventually headed back home to be a stay-at-home-mom to her two adorable tots. When we worked together, we had so much fun; it was hard to get any actual work done.
After we stopped working together, we discovered we deeply missed seeing each other every day. Since then, we’ve both made the effort to see each other at least once a month. It’s been rewarding to be in a friendship with someone who wants it to flourish as much as I do. To tell the truth, I think that’s why we have such a solid relationship. We MAKE time for our friendship and for one another.
Last night we met at Panera for bagels and soup. Delicious! We debated which movie to see – License to Wed or Ratatouille. It wasn’t too hard to decide. The last movie we’d seen was Because I Said So – the Mandy Moore bomb that thoroughly disgusted both of us. This time LTW was getting horrible reviews, and even my love of John Krasinski’s comedic talents wasn’t going to outweigh Robin Williams’ familiar old shtick and Mandy Moore’s horrible acting.
So, Ratatouille it was.
Afterwards, we agreed it had been the perfect choice. We added our accolades to the already glowing reviews. The artwork was amazing, the plotline REAL and not formulaic, and the vocal acting some of the best I’ve seen in an animated feature.
And since we went on a Monday night, we enjoyed a rather sedate crowd. The little kids shushed the other little kids because THEY didn’t want to miss any part of the movie.
Worked for me.
We decided to end the night on a sweet note and stopped by Culver’s for a peanut butter mixer (me) and a raspberry hot fudge sundae (her). Soooooooooooo good on a hot night! Although, poor Carleen was freezing in the AC at Panera, the movie theater, and Culver’s.
I, on the other hand, was in heaven. Crank it up!
We talked for hours, and Brett only called once (around 10:30 p.m.) to tell me he saw a weird commercial for a new dog hotel. Right. A dog hotel. I think he was just really tired.
Carly and I talked about all manner of things as only old friends can do. Former co-workers up to their same old tricks. Her life – should she stay a stay-at-home mom or re-enter the workforce? Should she have another baby? I talked about my family and friends who were going through divorces and such. We talked about clothes and what we would do if we won the lottery – what charities we would give to and what we do for our loved ones.
It was a conversation peppered with laughter and moments of seriousness as we pondered these years and our lives. It was a really good time.
Somehow, I think she had as much of a good time as I did. Somehow, I just know.
Well, only with my friend Carleen.
The two of us have this weird sort of bond where we always think of and call each other within moments of the other one thinking about us. It’s not unusual for either of us to say, “It’s so weird that you just called. I was about to call you!”
I’ve never had that with anyone before, but since we WANT to see each other, it’s a nice little phenomenon.
Now if I could only do the same thing with lottery numbers.
Either way, Carleen called me (just as she had crossed MY mind – freaky!) and said that she missed me, and we should get together. Now I know I’m 28 (almost 29!), and I should have more self confidence than to be absolutely floored that someone actually likes to be around me and misses it when we don’t get to spend time together. But I’m not. It still felt nice. I went all gooey-friendshipy warm inside.
Carleen and I used to work together, before she climbed the corporate ladder and became the CEO of a local company. She eventually headed back home to be a stay-at-home-mom to her two adorable tots. When we worked together, we had so much fun; it was hard to get any actual work done.
After we stopped working together, we discovered we deeply missed seeing each other every day. Since then, we’ve both made the effort to see each other at least once a month. It’s been rewarding to be in a friendship with someone who wants it to flourish as much as I do. To tell the truth, I think that’s why we have such a solid relationship. We MAKE time for our friendship and for one another.
Last night we met at Panera for bagels and soup. Delicious! We debated which movie to see – License to Wed or Ratatouille. It wasn’t too hard to decide. The last movie we’d seen was Because I Said So – the Mandy Moore bomb that thoroughly disgusted both of us. This time LTW was getting horrible reviews, and even my love of John Krasinski’s comedic talents wasn’t going to outweigh Robin Williams’ familiar old shtick and Mandy Moore’s horrible acting.
So, Ratatouille it was.
Afterwards, we agreed it had been the perfect choice. We added our accolades to the already glowing reviews. The artwork was amazing, the plotline REAL and not formulaic, and the vocal acting some of the best I’ve seen in an animated feature.
And since we went on a Monday night, we enjoyed a rather sedate crowd. The little kids shushed the other little kids because THEY didn’t want to miss any part of the movie.
Worked for me.
We decided to end the night on a sweet note and stopped by Culver’s for a peanut butter mixer (me) and a raspberry hot fudge sundae (her). Soooooooooooo good on a hot night! Although, poor Carleen was freezing in the AC at Panera, the movie theater, and Culver’s.
I, on the other hand, was in heaven. Crank it up!
We talked for hours, and Brett only called once (around 10:30 p.m.) to tell me he saw a weird commercial for a new dog hotel. Right. A dog hotel. I think he was just really tired.
Carly and I talked about all manner of things as only old friends can do. Former co-workers up to their same old tricks. Her life – should she stay a stay-at-home mom or re-enter the workforce? Should she have another baby? I talked about my family and friends who were going through divorces and such. We talked about clothes and what we would do if we won the lottery – what charities we would give to and what we do for our loved ones.
It was a conversation peppered with laughter and moments of seriousness as we pondered these years and our lives. It was a really good time.
Somehow, I think she had as much of a good time as I did. Somehow, I just know.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Designating Deacons
One of the best things about being in a small church, at the beginning of a new work, is being there when everything starts.
One thing Brett and I have learned about Morning Star is that no one is driven by tradition. The leadership is driven by precedents set forth in the Bible, and the congregation is such a mix of old conservatism and new middle-of-the-roaders, that everyone is excited to do things differently – or at least NOT just because, “that’s the way we’ve always done it.”
Last night we installed our first three deacons. It was such a blessing to be there as the men of our church laid hands on these three men and prayed that God would prepare them, their wives, and their families for this position in the church.
These men and their wives define humility. They are servants in the true sense of the word. I wouldn’t hesitate a moment to call any of them up if there was a need in our home whether spiritual or tangible.
The truth is that our leadership and our church feel more like family every day. And for someone with as much family as I have, that’s really saying something!
Please pray for Bill, Terry, and Jack as they seek to serve God as deacons of Morning Star Baptist Church.
One thing Brett and I have learned about Morning Star is that no one is driven by tradition. The leadership is driven by precedents set forth in the Bible, and the congregation is such a mix of old conservatism and new middle-of-the-roaders, that everyone is excited to do things differently – or at least NOT just because, “that’s the way we’ve always done it.”
Last night we installed our first three deacons. It was such a blessing to be there as the men of our church laid hands on these three men and prayed that God would prepare them, their wives, and their families for this position in the church.
These men and their wives define humility. They are servants in the true sense of the word. I wouldn’t hesitate a moment to call any of them up if there was a need in our home whether spiritual or tangible.
The truth is that our leadership and our church feel more like family every day. And for someone with as much family as I have, that’s really saying something!
Please pray for Bill, Terry, and Jack as they seek to serve God as deacons of Morning Star Baptist Church.
Family Updates
For my Rehfeldt and related readers, I have a quick update.
Uncle Ron is getting married.
Who, I don’t know.
When, I don’t know.
And the inevitable third question, I also don’t know.
But best wishes all around.
Uncle Ron is getting married.
Who, I don’t know.
When, I don’t know.
And the inevitable third question, I also don’t know.
But best wishes all around.
A Fat Blog
I have decided to take a note from my friend Tancy and start a “Fat Blog” where I can delve into my frustrations and triumphs in the ever expanding and (hopefully rapidly reducing) world of struggling with obesity and food addiction.
Sounds like some yummy reading, doesn’t it?
I am debating new names for my new blog (which I am actually starting so as not to bog anyone down with my endless obsession with food and my lousy metabolism). It’s usually only interesting to my sister weight watchers.
Of course, anyone is welcome to read it. I’m just warning you in advance that I’m not going to pull any punches. Be forewarned you will be privy to more knowledge about my love hate relationship with food than you ever wanted to know. It will amaze you how much I obsess about food.
It just may change your opinion of my sanity!
New blog names up for debate:
The Caloric Contessa
Hate Love Handles
It’s Not Over Until I Sing
The Fat Philosopher
Plus Size. Petite World
A Great Personality
Feast or Famine
The First Lady of Fat
Fitting In
My Perfect Size
Riding the Fat Ferris Wheel
My Zipper’s Stuck
The Bulging Baroness
I’d love to know which one you like best!
Sounds like some yummy reading, doesn’t it?
I am debating new names for my new blog (which I am actually starting so as not to bog anyone down with my endless obsession with food and my lousy metabolism). It’s usually only interesting to my sister weight watchers.
Of course, anyone is welcome to read it. I’m just warning you in advance that I’m not going to pull any punches. Be forewarned you will be privy to more knowledge about my love hate relationship with food than you ever wanted to know. It will amaze you how much I obsess about food.
It just may change your opinion of my sanity!
New blog names up for debate:
The Caloric Contessa
Hate Love Handles
It’s Not Over Until I Sing
The Fat Philosopher
Plus Size. Petite World
A Great Personality
Feast or Famine
The First Lady of Fat
Fitting In
My Perfect Size
Riding the Fat Ferris Wheel
My Zipper’s Stuck
The Bulging Baroness
I’d love to know which one you like best!
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Updated!
I have updated some comments on my previous “Yippee-ki-yay” post.
My friend Tancy made some solid points about parent’s rights, and October pointed me toward introspection (as she often does). After some thinking, I decided what REALLY bothered me about the crying-baby-in-an-R-rated-movie was the “crying” part.
If the baby had been quieter or had been promptly removed upon the beginning of shrieking, I probably wouldn’t have cared that the baby was in the theater at all.
So, if you were a part of the discussion, feel free to check the updated comments!
http://lefthandedrabbit.blogspot.com/2007/06/yippee-ki-ay-mother-frustration.html
My friend Tancy made some solid points about parent’s rights, and October pointed me toward introspection (as she often does). After some thinking, I decided what REALLY bothered me about the crying-baby-in-an-R-rated-movie was the “crying” part.
If the baby had been quieter or had been promptly removed upon the beginning of shrieking, I probably wouldn’t have cared that the baby was in the theater at all.
So, if you were a part of the discussion, feel free to check the updated comments!
http://lefthandedrabbit.blogspot.com/2007/06/yippee-ki-ay-mother-frustration.html
Almost Forgot
I almost forgot the thing that put me over the top this morning into a very sunny mood!
There is a Taco Bell coming to 173!
Whooo-hoo!
I (heart) Taco Bell, but I hated having to drive all the way down to the old Machesney Park Mall just to pick up a warm, gooey chicken quesadilla (great, now I’m drooling).
But, today, as I pulled up to the Starbucks drive-thru, I saw a sign next to all the new construction on 173 that proclaimed, “A Taco Bell is coming to this site soon!”
I literally hooted in my car, clapped my hands, and did a little hip shake thing I can only call “car happy dancing.” The thought of having all those wonderful Mexican options open to me at a MUCH closer location just made my day!
The only thing better than Taco Bell is a closer Taco Bell!
There is a Taco Bell coming to 173!
Whooo-hoo!
I (heart) Taco Bell, but I hated having to drive all the way down to the old Machesney Park Mall just to pick up a warm, gooey chicken quesadilla (great, now I’m drooling).
But, today, as I pulled up to the Starbucks drive-thru, I saw a sign next to all the new construction on 173 that proclaimed, “A Taco Bell is coming to this site soon!”
I literally hooted in my car, clapped my hands, and did a little hip shake thing I can only call “car happy dancing.” The thought of having all those wonderful Mexican options open to me at a MUCH closer location just made my day!
The only thing better than Taco Bell is a closer Taco Bell!
In a Good Mood
I am in a good mood.
“Why?” You might ask.
Well, for one thing, I started out the day the way God intended – with a Venti-sized Iced Tangerine Juice Blend from Starbucks. I may HATE coffee, but I love my Starbucks iced drinks in the summer and gourmet hot chocolate in the winter. Mmm…nothing like an icy fruit drink to kick start a Saturday.
I am also now reveling in my air-conditioned office while the outside world swelters and shoulders on in the oppressive heat. I may be here to work, but I’m cool as a cucumber and that makes me a happy camper.
I’m also strangely happy to be at work getting caught up in the sweet silence of an empty office. There’s only one other person here, which means I’ll be able to get a lot done without multiple interruptions. Interruptions come frequently during the work week, so I’m bound to get more done now.
Well, after my short blogging break, that is.
Last night was very productive and put me in a positive state of mind. Mom and Gary dropped off the first load of Mom’s basement clutter we’ve been working on whittling down. It was an unorganized mess of things I’d decided I wanted to keep (as opposed to Gary carting it all off to Goodwill).
I spent the evening organizing, labeling, and taking photos of my childhood treasures. Then I packed everything away in the lavender totes I’d gotten on sale at Wal-Mart (only $4 – they were on sale because of the spring/lavender color – the clear ones in the same size were $7 – it was a STEAL!).
Pretty soon, I’ll be heading over to Mom’s to do the second round of cleaning out. We have a six prong system for cleaning Mom’s basement:
1. Holiday decorations organized by holiday
2. Things Mom forgot she had and now wants to keep
3. Things Mom doesn’t want to keep but thinks may be worth something on eBay
4. Things Mom doesn’t want, but I do
5. Things from my childhood that I want to keep
6. Things neither of us wants and would bring nothing on eBay go in the Goodwill pile
We are doing all this first – organizing and whittling down – before Mom and Gary purchase plastic storage totes to put the whole basement in order.
Helping to organize Mom’s basement has actually been a great deal of fun for me. It’s been great rediscovering my childhood and getting lots of Mom’s decorating castoffs (which are still in really good condition). I love the process of organizing and deciding.
I should probably work at a thrift store. I’m sure I’d love it!
Mom and Gary came over in the midst of my organizational progress. Mom chatted with me while Brett and Gary attacked the outside yard work that needed to be done.
Afterwards, the four of us watched an episode of Murder She Wrote (via Netflix). Mom and I split a bowl of popcorn and said how it seemed so much like “old times.” When I was little, Mom and Dad and I used to watch Murder She Wrote after church on Sunday. The three of us also shared a big ‘ol bowl of popcorn!
Somehow, in the middle of all that, I also managed to get three loads of laundry done!
So, here I am now, getting started on the work work part of my day, and I’m actually looking forward to it!
It’s nice to be in a good mood. And it’s even nicer to share it with others!
“Why?” You might ask.
Well, for one thing, I started out the day the way God intended – with a Venti-sized Iced Tangerine Juice Blend from Starbucks. I may HATE coffee, but I love my Starbucks iced drinks in the summer and gourmet hot chocolate in the winter. Mmm…nothing like an icy fruit drink to kick start a Saturday.
I am also now reveling in my air-conditioned office while the outside world swelters and shoulders on in the oppressive heat. I may be here to work, but I’m cool as a cucumber and that makes me a happy camper.
I’m also strangely happy to be at work getting caught up in the sweet silence of an empty office. There’s only one other person here, which means I’ll be able to get a lot done without multiple interruptions. Interruptions come frequently during the work week, so I’m bound to get more done now.
Well, after my short blogging break, that is.
Last night was very productive and put me in a positive state of mind. Mom and Gary dropped off the first load of Mom’s basement clutter we’ve been working on whittling down. It was an unorganized mess of things I’d decided I wanted to keep (as opposed to Gary carting it all off to Goodwill).
I spent the evening organizing, labeling, and taking photos of my childhood treasures. Then I packed everything away in the lavender totes I’d gotten on sale at Wal-Mart (only $4 – they were on sale because of the spring/lavender color – the clear ones in the same size were $7 – it was a STEAL!).
Pretty soon, I’ll be heading over to Mom’s to do the second round of cleaning out. We have a six prong system for cleaning Mom’s basement:
1. Holiday decorations organized by holiday
2. Things Mom forgot she had and now wants to keep
3. Things Mom doesn’t want to keep but thinks may be worth something on eBay
4. Things Mom doesn’t want, but I do
5. Things from my childhood that I want to keep
6. Things neither of us wants and would bring nothing on eBay go in the Goodwill pile
We are doing all this first – organizing and whittling down – before Mom and Gary purchase plastic storage totes to put the whole basement in order.
Helping to organize Mom’s basement has actually been a great deal of fun for me. It’s been great rediscovering my childhood and getting lots of Mom’s decorating castoffs (which are still in really good condition). I love the process of organizing and deciding.
I should probably work at a thrift store. I’m sure I’d love it!
Mom and Gary came over in the midst of my organizational progress. Mom chatted with me while Brett and Gary attacked the outside yard work that needed to be done.
Afterwards, the four of us watched an episode of Murder She Wrote (via Netflix). Mom and I split a bowl of popcorn and said how it seemed so much like “old times.” When I was little, Mom and Dad and I used to watch Murder She Wrote after church on Sunday. The three of us also shared a big ‘ol bowl of popcorn!
Somehow, in the middle of all that, I also managed to get three loads of laundry done!
So, here I am now, getting started on the work work part of my day, and I’m actually looking forward to it!
It’s nice to be in a good mood. And it’s even nicer to share it with others!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Speaking of Kids in Public Places
I know I’m not the most tolerant person when it comes to misbehaving or loud children in movie theaters or restaurants.
However, I do actually LIKE children a great deal.
So, to show I am not turning into a crazy cat lady who yells at the neighborhood kids to get off her lawn, I thought I should mention something. Twice, in the past two days, I have been at public venues which were swarming with children of every age. The first was the outdoor patriotic concert at Sinnissippi Park in Rockford. The second was the industrial park in Beloit where we watched the fireworks.
At both places, the kids were having a great time – singing at the concert – oohing and aahing at the fireworks. All that extra space allowed them the freedom to move around – catching fireflies at the concerts, playing with sparklers at the fireworks – to just be kids!
And I enjoyed being with them! I liked seeing them laugh, dance to the music, and scream in awe at the fireworks. The fact that kids were there made the events even better for all of us who attended.
I hope that goes a little ways towards redeeming me with my wonderful mom friends who are forever rolling their eyes at me (and I know you do!).
However, I do actually LIKE children a great deal.
So, to show I am not turning into a crazy cat lady who yells at the neighborhood kids to get off her lawn, I thought I should mention something. Twice, in the past two days, I have been at public venues which were swarming with children of every age. The first was the outdoor patriotic concert at Sinnissippi Park in Rockford. The second was the industrial park in Beloit where we watched the fireworks.
At both places, the kids were having a great time – singing at the concert – oohing and aahing at the fireworks. All that extra space allowed them the freedom to move around – catching fireflies at the concerts, playing with sparklers at the fireworks – to just be kids!
And I enjoyed being with them! I liked seeing them laugh, dance to the music, and scream in awe at the fireworks. The fact that kids were there made the events even better for all of us who attended.
I hope that goes a little ways towards redeeming me with my wonderful mom friends who are forever rolling their eyes at me (and I know you do!).
Happy Belated Independence Day!
Sorry for the lack of photos – we all share the digital camera in my office (in our off hours), and my co-worker wanted to get photos of a red fox that seems to have taken up residence in his back yard!
On to my pictureless post...
We got to be very patriotic this year. On Tuesday night, we went with Mom and Gary to hear a patriotic concert at Sinnissippi Park in Rockford. It was part of the Rockford Park District’s Music in the Park Series. They have free outdoor concerts all summer long, and this one was exceptionally good!
At the concert intermission, we saw Jan and Terry Miller from our church. The six of us visited for a while, and Mom and Jan discovered they had BOTH gone to Lincoln Park Elementary School growing up. Jan was in the same class as my Uncle Ron. It is a small world.
Terry was slightly disappointed that the concert was patriotic. He had gotten his dates mixed up and thought it was the Bluegrass Band Night! But Jan said she was actually enjoying the patriotic music more than she probably would have enjoyed the bluegrass. And Terry said he thought it was a good concert, too, so I guess it worked out for everyone!
Mom’s Pastor’s wife was in the band, so there were a few people from First Baptist there, as well. It was old home week (for us Baptists that is)!
Brett had to work on the 4th, so I spent most of the day relaxing, reading my book, and baking. I made cupcakes, brownies, and homemade potato bread. Brett’s dad showed up at about 3:30 p.m. (thank goodness, I’d finally JUST gotten out of my pajamas).
Al and I watched Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown together. We had fun debating the cases. Normally, I HATE those shows as they are showboating, stupid displays of idiotic morons getting an undeserved five minutes of fame just on the basis of their own lack of common sense. But mocking them with Al was more fun than I think I’ve ever HAD with Al before!
After Brett got home, we headed over to Mom and Gary’s for a truly delicious dinner with just about ever picnic delicacy you can imagine – and the cupcakes were exceptionally excellent!
Then we all loaded into Al’s van to go watch the Beloit fireworks. Mom and I brought Skip-Bo to play while we waited for it to get dark. We joined the other hundreds of people on the green hills of the ABC Supply Company’s industrial park. It was really wonderful, and when the fireworks started going off, we were in JUST the right spot. They were so close we could almost touch them.
Speaking of the fireworks, the City of Beloit must have gone into hock for the display. It was without a doubt, the BEST display I’ve seen in my 28 years. There was a ground display (which I’d never seen before), and an amazing aerial display.
There were 3-D fireworks in the shape of Saturn, smiley faces, hearts, and the 13 original colonies. There were so many NEW kinds I’d never seen before. Truly a phenomenon!
We wrapped up with a tired drive back to Mom and Gary’s, then to our house, and then Al went on his way around 11:30 p.m.
It was a wonderful way to celebrate our independence – with family – and to remember our freedom in this country and our freedom in Christ!
On to my pictureless post...
We got to be very patriotic this year. On Tuesday night, we went with Mom and Gary to hear a patriotic concert at Sinnissippi Park in Rockford. It was part of the Rockford Park District’s Music in the Park Series. They have free outdoor concerts all summer long, and this one was exceptionally good!
At the concert intermission, we saw Jan and Terry Miller from our church. The six of us visited for a while, and Mom and Jan discovered they had BOTH gone to Lincoln Park Elementary School growing up. Jan was in the same class as my Uncle Ron. It is a small world.
Terry was slightly disappointed that the concert was patriotic. He had gotten his dates mixed up and thought it was the Bluegrass Band Night! But Jan said she was actually enjoying the patriotic music more than she probably would have enjoyed the bluegrass. And Terry said he thought it was a good concert, too, so I guess it worked out for everyone!
Mom’s Pastor’s wife was in the band, so there were a few people from First Baptist there, as well. It was old home week (for us Baptists that is)!
Brett had to work on the 4th, so I spent most of the day relaxing, reading my book, and baking. I made cupcakes, brownies, and homemade potato bread. Brett’s dad showed up at about 3:30 p.m. (thank goodness, I’d finally JUST gotten out of my pajamas).
Al and I watched Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown together. We had fun debating the cases. Normally, I HATE those shows as they are showboating, stupid displays of idiotic morons getting an undeserved five minutes of fame just on the basis of their own lack of common sense. But mocking them with Al was more fun than I think I’ve ever HAD with Al before!
After Brett got home, we headed over to Mom and Gary’s for a truly delicious dinner with just about ever picnic delicacy you can imagine – and the cupcakes were exceptionally excellent!
Then we all loaded into Al’s van to go watch the Beloit fireworks. Mom and I brought Skip-Bo to play while we waited for it to get dark. We joined the other hundreds of people on the green hills of the ABC Supply Company’s industrial park. It was really wonderful, and when the fireworks started going off, we were in JUST the right spot. They were so close we could almost touch them.
Speaking of the fireworks, the City of Beloit must have gone into hock for the display. It was without a doubt, the BEST display I’ve seen in my 28 years. There was a ground display (which I’d never seen before), and an amazing aerial display.
There were 3-D fireworks in the shape of Saturn, smiley faces, hearts, and the 13 original colonies. There were so many NEW kinds I’d never seen before. Truly a phenomenon!
We wrapped up with a tired drive back to Mom and Gary’s, then to our house, and then Al went on his way around 11:30 p.m.
It was a wonderful way to celebrate our independence – with family – and to remember our freedom in this country and our freedom in Christ!
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Won’t Get Fooled Again
One pink line, and another negative test is born!
I’m not pregnant. Again.
I’ve been not pregnant so many times; I’m thinking of throwing myself a not-having-a-baby shower. I could get non-child-friendly-gifts like breakable crystal vases and drippy candles.
Oh, well. ‘Tis what ‘tis. Que sera, sera - and all that jazz.
Today’s devotional was on the importance of faith. Abraham was the illustration with his faith in offering Isaac up at God’s request for a sacrifice. At the end of the devotion, there was a little phrase that said something like – “Are you going through a trial that seems unbearable or difficult? How can Abraham’s example be encouraging to you?”
I thought about how long Sarah and Abraham waited for Isaac and then what it must have been like to think about giving him up. The Lord knew it was what I needed to read – exactly – and it was an encouragement to my heart.
Besides the test anxiety I was going through all day yesterday, I had a rather good day. After work, Candice and I met at the Super Dollar Store at North Towne and had dinner together at Subway. ‘Twas delicious.
Afterwards, I stopped by home where Brett and Gary were hacking away branches from the seemingly insurmountable red bush we have by the garage. Brett was off work yesterday, because the warehouse was all caught up. It was an unexpected – albeit unpaid – delight for him to get caught up on his chores (and paying our bills).
Gary is always so sweet to come over and help Brett with the yard. The funny thing is that some of our neighbors think he’s our gardener – or to be more politically correct, our “landscape artist.”
The neighbors in our cul-de-sac have much more money than we do, and so they DO have gardeners, so I suppose it’s not hard for them to imagine we would, too. But we don’t. Thankfully, Gary works for free.
I said a quick “Hi,” left the two of them there, and drove to Mom’s where I bribed her with Junior Caramels, so I could use her super-fast-brand-new PC to (finally) place my Mary Kay order – hallelujah! I can’t believe I finally got around to it!
Afterwards, Mom and I watched some TV. We mocked the super-fake QVC people, and I introduced Mom to VH1 (I’m a bad, bad person). I explained who Tara Reid and Kenny Chesney were, and then we clicked over to catch part of some country music awards show.
I finally bailed at 9:30 p.m. and caught a glimpse of Gary’s truck leaving as I pulled onto our street. Brett told me it was a relief to have gotten so much done on a “work” day. I fell asleep nice and fast and felt like I’d had a good day.
I was able to spend time with family and friends, put my Mary Kay order in, and go dollar store shopping (one of my favorite things).
Today looks to be good. Mom and I are meeting Candice to celebrate her 27th birthday (Candice’s, not Mom’s). We are going all out with lunch at (wait for it…) Beef-a-Roo! Mmm…when we party, we do it in style!
Tomorrow’s the holiday, and then my boss is out for the rest of the week on vacation!
I may be “not pregnant” but at least I’m not bored!
I’m not pregnant. Again.
I’ve been not pregnant so many times; I’m thinking of throwing myself a not-having-a-baby shower. I could get non-child-friendly-gifts like breakable crystal vases and drippy candles.
Oh, well. ‘Tis what ‘tis. Que sera, sera - and all that jazz.
Today’s devotional was on the importance of faith. Abraham was the illustration with his faith in offering Isaac up at God’s request for a sacrifice. At the end of the devotion, there was a little phrase that said something like – “Are you going through a trial that seems unbearable or difficult? How can Abraham’s example be encouraging to you?”
I thought about how long Sarah and Abraham waited for Isaac and then what it must have been like to think about giving him up. The Lord knew it was what I needed to read – exactly – and it was an encouragement to my heart.
Besides the test anxiety I was going through all day yesterday, I had a rather good day. After work, Candice and I met at the Super Dollar Store at North Towne and had dinner together at Subway. ‘Twas delicious.
Afterwards, I stopped by home where Brett and Gary were hacking away branches from the seemingly insurmountable red bush we have by the garage. Brett was off work yesterday, because the warehouse was all caught up. It was an unexpected – albeit unpaid – delight for him to get caught up on his chores (and paying our bills).
Gary is always so sweet to come over and help Brett with the yard. The funny thing is that some of our neighbors think he’s our gardener – or to be more politically correct, our “landscape artist.”
The neighbors in our cul-de-sac have much more money than we do, and so they DO have gardeners, so I suppose it’s not hard for them to imagine we would, too. But we don’t. Thankfully, Gary works for free.
I said a quick “Hi,” left the two of them there, and drove to Mom’s where I bribed her with Junior Caramels, so I could use her super-fast-brand-new PC to (finally) place my Mary Kay order – hallelujah! I can’t believe I finally got around to it!
Afterwards, Mom and I watched some TV. We mocked the super-fake QVC people, and I introduced Mom to VH1 (I’m a bad, bad person). I explained who Tara Reid and Kenny Chesney were, and then we clicked over to catch part of some country music awards show.
I finally bailed at 9:30 p.m. and caught a glimpse of Gary’s truck leaving as I pulled onto our street. Brett told me it was a relief to have gotten so much done on a “work” day. I fell asleep nice and fast and felt like I’d had a good day.
I was able to spend time with family and friends, put my Mary Kay order in, and go dollar store shopping (one of my favorite things).
Today looks to be good. Mom and I are meeting Candice to celebrate her 27th birthday (Candice’s, not Mom’s). We are going all out with lunch at (wait for it…) Beef-a-Roo! Mmm…when we party, we do it in style!
Tomorrow’s the holiday, and then my boss is out for the rest of the week on vacation!
I may be “not pregnant” but at least I’m not bored!
Monday, July 02, 2007
The Thin Pink Line
Well, I have to buy another pregnancy test.
Brett and I have been married for almost seven years. In that time, I’ve taken at least 20 pregnancy tests.
I hate pregnancy tests. I hate taking them.
Why?
Because I’m a good student.
That’s right. I never, ever failed a test in my entire scholastic career. And yet that little white stick and ONE PINK LINE (it’s only ever ONE pink line, NEVER two) makes me feel like a disappointment in so many ways. Because, 20 times out of 20, I’ve failed that test. I just can’t seem to get it right.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m always disappointed when I take (and fail) the tests, because (let’s face it) I’d like an “A” for once. But the truth of the matter is that God has given Brett and me peace concerning our possible infertility.
We are grateful God has given us peace and contentment on this point. We know people who feel like their lives would not be worth living unless they had children to raise. I like to think about the people in the Bible who had no children and still managed to serve God. There are many, and they give me comfort when I feel the external pressure to HAVE KIDS.
And there IS pressure, let me tell you.
Anyway, the only reason I am taking the test is to rule out the possibility of pregnancy. My cycle is around 60 days now, and that’s a little long, even for someone as erratic as I can be. So, when I take the test, and I fail (and I will), they’ll give me meds to induce my cycle, and the whole random things starts up again.
There’s a reason they call it a cycle, you know? Stop the world, and I’ll get off.
The thing about pregnancy tests is that I always get a little, tiny bit excited – even now – even after 20 times – that maybe, just maybe, I AM pregnant.
And I never am.
So, I’ll start out with the $1 test found (ironically) at The Dollar Tree. Then, when that’s negative, I’ll think, “Well, maybe it’s wrong. It’s just a cheap test.” Then, I’ll go out and buy the $23.99 test and get the exact same results.
It’s not enough that I’m not pregnant, but I have to pay through the nose to be disappointed? Stinks, doesn’t it?
And what a WAY to find out. You can bet that if men were pregnant they wouldn’t be peeing on a stick. They would have high class medical tests that involved no bodily fluids whatsoever. Just a pregnancy scan or something.
You can BET! Just look at all the ED treatments. And we’re still peeing on sticks like in the 1950’s. It’s a racket.
Oh, well. So, I’ll go buy a test. Pay too much. Be disappointed. Just so they can give me meds to induce something I’d rather not have anyhow.
Yeesh. Seriously. Stop the world, and I’ll get it off.
Brett and I have been married for almost seven years. In that time, I’ve taken at least 20 pregnancy tests.
I hate pregnancy tests. I hate taking them.
Why?
Because I’m a good student.
That’s right. I never, ever failed a test in my entire scholastic career. And yet that little white stick and ONE PINK LINE (it’s only ever ONE pink line, NEVER two) makes me feel like a disappointment in so many ways. Because, 20 times out of 20, I’ve failed that test. I just can’t seem to get it right.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m always disappointed when I take (and fail) the tests, because (let’s face it) I’d like an “A” for once. But the truth of the matter is that God has given Brett and me peace concerning our possible infertility.
We are grateful God has given us peace and contentment on this point. We know people who feel like their lives would not be worth living unless they had children to raise. I like to think about the people in the Bible who had no children and still managed to serve God. There are many, and they give me comfort when I feel the external pressure to HAVE KIDS.
And there IS pressure, let me tell you.
Anyway, the only reason I am taking the test is to rule out the possibility of pregnancy. My cycle is around 60 days now, and that’s a little long, even for someone as erratic as I can be. So, when I take the test, and I fail (and I will), they’ll give me meds to induce my cycle, and the whole random things starts up again.
There’s a reason they call it a cycle, you know? Stop the world, and I’ll get off.
The thing about pregnancy tests is that I always get a little, tiny bit excited – even now – even after 20 times – that maybe, just maybe, I AM pregnant.
And I never am.
So, I’ll start out with the $1 test found (ironically) at The Dollar Tree. Then, when that’s negative, I’ll think, “Well, maybe it’s wrong. It’s just a cheap test.” Then, I’ll go out and buy the $23.99 test and get the exact same results.
It’s not enough that I’m not pregnant, but I have to pay through the nose to be disappointed? Stinks, doesn’t it?
And what a WAY to find out. You can bet that if men were pregnant they wouldn’t be peeing on a stick. They would have high class medical tests that involved no bodily fluids whatsoever. Just a pregnancy scan or something.
You can BET! Just look at all the ED treatments. And we’re still peeing on sticks like in the 1950’s. It’s a racket.
Oh, well. So, I’ll go buy a test. Pay too much. Be disappointed. Just so they can give me meds to induce something I’d rather not have anyhow.
Yeesh. Seriously. Stop the world, and I’ll get it off.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)