Are you listening, Subway?

Have you ever had a moment that was so surreal you thought you must be in a commercial or maybe on one of those hidden camera shows where you act like a moron and then get the joy of knowing you've been recorded for all the world to see you make a fool of yourself? Well who needs that? That's why the good Lord invented blogging. So I can tell the world my, "Hey, remember that time I acted like a dork?" story.

There's a sub shop down the street from my job. Occasionally I'll walk down there to have lunch if I haven't brought my own. So I go there, standing innocently in line waiting to order.

Pretty bland so far, right?

Then Mr. Bon Jovi comes on the radio singing about Tommy on the docks and Gina at the diner and I'm sort of dancing in place singing along. There are about ten of us (this is the lunchtime rush in a pretty heavily populated business district) waiting in line, our sandwiches in varying states of deliciousness, when the guy behind me starts to sing, too. Pretty soon, every person in line is singing. And when we hit the chorus? It got loud.

Whooah, we're half way there
Whooah! Livin on a prayer
Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear
Whooah! Livin on a prayer...

And even while I'm singing, I'm thinking How can all these people possibly know the words? What am I doing? I can't stand talking in front of people and now I'm singing?!

WHAT IS GOING ON?!

The song ended, we got our food and moved on, all slightly uplifted by a brief but strange connection with our fellow man. Well, maybe that was just me.

If you ever see a commercial with a group of folks singing "Livin' on a Prayer," I'm the short frumpy one with the bewildered expression on her face.

Over to you?

I'm Thinking...

...it's a good thing I'm not omnipotent. Folks have been taking advantage of our church's benevolence. We've been robbed, had a car in our parking lot broken into during a church service and had liars come among us pretending to be in need in search of money. Don't get me wrong, if there is a genuine need, we are more than happy to assist.

Last night a girl came to the church saying that she needed money for gas. Steven, being the realist that he is, told her he would not give her cash, but he'd go to the gas station with her and purchase the gas for her. She agreed, saying she'd meet us there. We proceeded to drive, about 20 minutes out of our way, to have her never show up. We learned that her husband is a drug addict and she's swindled folks from our church before.

Part of me wants to call down curses on her and her kind. Part of me is saddened to know that there are people for whom nothing is sacred. Not the caring spirit of a group of people who want to help. Not the words of our God who tells us as Christians that we're to help those in need. How dare people take advantage of that?

Right now the cursing side of me is winning out. God grant me the ability to forgive those that do us wrong.

Things I've Learned the Hard Way (Part 2)

Part 1 is here.

8. If you give a mouse (or a hubby) a cookie, he'll need a glass of milk to go with it. And another cookie. And another one. And some more milk.

9. No matter how many dishes you wash, there will always be one more, lurking behind the soap dispenser or hiding in the bathroom (ice cream, anyone?)

10. If your boss catches you blogging at work, you will suddenly find yourself with heaps, boxes, and buckets full of extra work. Just because occasionally my job gets put on hold when inspiration strikes doesn't mean I'm not busy as a beaver. (And my work still gets done.) Take that, Boss Lady!

11. There are a lot of James Dean haters in this world. You wouldn't believe all the emails I got disagreeing with my last blogs' vampire choices. I still think he'd make a perfect vampire, though. Please don't take Rebel Without a Cause too seriously. I know he was a little whiny in it...

12. Reaching the end of a good book is almost unbearably sad to me. I'm almost afraid to pick up my old familiar Steinbecks and Vonneguts. Even though I know the ending, it's depressing to know it's over. (I finally finished Twilight, can you tell?)

13. Church ladies are unbelievably patient and too nice to tell the truth when it's hurtful. Even if the dish you made for the church potluck smells like a wet dog that rolled in garbage, they'll eat it and say how yummy it is. Then they'll wash your dishes and THEY don't miss any!

14. If someone who is known to "hear voices" asks you if you heard it too, it's best to say no. Just when you're uttering the words, "You know, maybe I DID hear something..." somebody with a straitjacket will show up and drag you off to the funny farm. Or maybe your boss will just give you a look that asks if you need to be medicated.

15. My family lurks. I know they read this; maybe they just don't want anyone else to know. Come on guys, say something! (Uncle John, I know you're out there!!!)

Okay so forget all the rest. Maybe you'll respond to this:

Ain't they cute? You know you want to tell me about it!

Twilight Overload

I finished the third book last night and sent my husband (recent survivor of phase one of a root canal, thanks for the prayers) out to purchase the fourth one at about 9:30. What, quit looking at me like that. He's perfectly fine! I don't feel the least bit guilty about him driving through freezing temperatures with a cold and wet driver's seat (from my earlier coffee dumping session) and looking at no less than five different stores for my coveted book. He didn't find it.

So I'm having some withdrawal symptoms, and I'm feeding my addiction by imagining who really should play Edward Cullen in the movie. I have no problem with Robert Pattinson, but he's Cedric Diggory, dangit! Yes, I am the world's biggest nerd. I'm okay with that. So my mom (who's also a nerd, sorry Mom) and I like to read books and then watch the movies and discover who the real perfect person for the lead role is. We're still working on The DaVinci Code. Tom Hanks. *shudder*

So here are my mind's other Edward Cullens. Tell me what you think.

1. Johnny Depp
I watched Cry-Baby last night and it was a little weird. Though I'm not sure if he could pull off 17 now, the younger Johnny Depp is a perfect match. Just look at those broody eyes...

2. Adam Brody
I don't know anything about this guy, but he does have a perfect face. Something kinda nonchalant and yet he really does care...

3. Tom Welling.
He's already a superhero, and his eyes are just about perfect.

4. Marlon Brando.
Now I'm entering the realms of Fairyland, but look at him! He's perfect! STELLA!!! It rhymes with BELLA!!!!!

Gosh, I'm really losing it.

5. James Dean. The hands down, no doubt about it, most perfect vampire of all time. He wouldn't even need makeup!

I'm really not obsessed. It just looks that way. Darn you, Patti!

Ok, so it's an hour or so later...

and I come home to find him fast asleep. This is good-it means his pain meds have finally kicked in. Hopefully he'll sleep for a while, and now that I'm home and can attend to his little mewling cries, I feel much better. If his eyelids should begin to flutter I'll be standing by the bed with a cast-iron skillet ready to send him back into oblivion.

Since he's sleeping, I'm doing my best to creep ever so silently through the house. I came home from work wanting desperately to shower. Do you ever just need to wash the filth and disgust of your job away? So anyway, I crept into our room to get my shampoo and other shower items and made my way into the other bathroom. That's right, there are just the two of us and we have two bathrooms. I'll wait while you compose yourself. You know, envy is a horrible thing. Anyway, I took my stuff into "his" bathroom and what greeted me?

Okay, wait a sec. Sometimes I do things just to see if he's paying attention. Like while he's playing a video game, I'll call out, "I think somebody's trying to break in!" in my most horrified voice. Nothing. Or I'll slip something like, "I quit my job and am going to build a spaceship" into a conversation and see what he does. Nothing.

So anyway, the other day I really wanted to make some ice cream. Steve was asleep and I didn't want to wake him with the noisy ice cream maker, so I mixed up all the ingredients and hauled everything into the bathroom. What, you don't make ice cream in YOUR bathroom? Weird. I made sure to drip a few little splotches into the sink and onto the floor to see what he would do. I was hoping he'd think I had caught the bloody flux from some Wal-Mart chicken or something. Once the ice cream was done, I promptly forgot about it. Well, apparently, he never noticed it, or else didn't think anything of his wife leaving weird marks all over the bathroom. However...

when I stepped into the bathroom today I was horrified! I thought he must be bleeding internally or brushing his teeth too hard or having uncontrollable nose bleeds or...is that chocolate?

Yup, my plan backfired. I'll think before I try to freak him out again. At least until he feels better.

P.S. Root canal tomorrow afternoon. Pray for him, okay?

My baby is sick

I got on here with the intention of writing some light-hearted meaningless drivel.

Steven has a toothache. This is no, owie, somebody get me a baby aspirin and break it in half pain. This is oh dear God I can't stand it kill me now pain. He needs a root canal. I've never seen him so troubled. He has forehead wrinkles.

I've sat by him in recovery from his heart cath, visited him in the hospital, nursed his colds and flus, and I can not stand this. I can only imagine what it would be like if I had to watch my children dealing with pain.

He's at home, hopefully asleep. I used to get migraines and I know that sometimes sleep is the only escape from the pain.

God, I can't stand this. It kills me to be so helpless.

Don't Bring Me Down

The title has nothing to do with the post, except maybe if you stretched your imagination and pretended to be a migratory songbird and you didn't want to land.

Ahem.

I SAW THE BIRDS TODAY!

For a long time I was the only one who could see them. Then came my parents. They came to visit us, I believe it was last February, and we ALL saw them. We (being ever so adventurous, full of Mexican food, and having no place to go) decided to follow them to see what they were doing.

Okay. Now at the risk of losing all of your interest, let me tell you about the birds. Every year, hundred of birds, thousands of birds, million and billions and trillions of birds use the Mississippi River as a giant landmark as they migrate throughout the country. They roost in a lovely place called Shelby Farms, which has plenteous trees and bushes to keep them safe and happy.

We followed them as they flew in for the night. The smell was atrocious, and I don't know who had the bright idea of opening the sunroof, but the sight was amazing. I'm only sorry that I wasn't able to catch a little more on the camera.

Check it out.


Yes, that is me on the audio. As far as I can tell, I'm saying "Oh my gack! Listen to them! They're all, like, shclug, cruising away from us like what the heck is following us!"

No, I don't know what I was thinking. I was a little excited.

It's kind of nifty to see, though.

Alert the Press!

I've discovered Twilight. That's right, folks, I am once again on the bandwagon. I haven't been this excited about a book since the Harry Potter series.

Sometimes I feel the need to do something just because people say I shouldn't or vice versa. Take, for example, my discovery of Harry Potter. It all happened long ago, in a faraway land called Kentucky. In a kingdom called Bible college. Where all the good boys and girls would never be caught dead reading a work of fiction. Let alone one about witches! Gasp!

I ordered the books by inter-library loan after hearing a pair of students talking about how horrible the books were. And they hadn't even read them. Of course, my interest was piqued.

"Horrible you say? Hmmmmmmm."

So when everyone and their granny is lining up to see Twilight and read the books and join the fan clubs and buy the posters, I was a little skeptical. I'd walk past the massive Twilight display and all the 12 year old girls ogling it and mutter about sheep and independence and elevated thought. Cue my dear and darling sister, Patti. While we were planning my visit to Michigan, she casually mentioned that we should go see the movie together. I thought eh, what the heck, how often do I get to see my sister? But first, she gives me the book to read. I devoured it, in one greedy gulp, staying up late into the wee hours of the morning. And folks, I am the type of gal that turns into a pumpkin at about 10 pm. This is a big deal for me. And the movie? It was great! I didn't have to cringe (from overdose of corniness) once!

If you haven't read it, (yeah right) then read it. If you haven't watched it, (even less likely) go watch it.

And Patti, we can't discuss the series yet. I'm waiting until I have enough time to give it the attention it deserves.

Til then, you may stare at this. But only til then.

The Origin of OCD

Sunday I woke up looking like this. I'm always a Flock of Seagulls fan first thing in the morning. Little did I know that I'd discover that I'm a Pharisee!

Steven preached a sermon from Matthew 15, where Jesus criticized the Pharisees for making little rules and rituals into huge "sins." In this case, the Pharisees thought that you were sinning if you didn't wash your hands properly before eating. Basically, you might as well commit murder if you didn't follow their laws, it was just that serious. I was a little confused, because I always thought that it should be the law, cleanliness is next to godliness and all that.

Why not?

I'm learning new things about myself. I'm a compulsive hand washer. I chew the skin around my nails (I recently discovered this is a form of OCD called dermatophagia. *warning: clicky only if you don't mind being grossed out by icky pics.* Steven thinks I should just put my hands in something gross so I'm not tempted to bite them, but then again, there's the hand washing. Of course, if you knew some of the things that I know, you'd be a hand washer too. Things like the lady with herpes in her eye. Things like all the bacteria crawling on your skin right now! Wouldn't the world be a better place if we all would strive to be a little cleaner? Now, be a good child and go wash your hands.

Feel better? I know I do.

My Voices

I made a cake for church today and I noticed for the very first time that I have voices in my head. Mr. Brown is there sometimes, sometimes it's just me or my grandma, and sometimes it's my parents.

When I cook, it's my mom. Growing up, whenever I'd get frustrated with myself for breaking an egg yolk or baking the cookies too long, she'd always tell me to keep trying, "you'll get it when you have more experience."

When I drive, I always hear my dad. On the way to Uncle John's house there is a meeting of two highways where you drive in a complete circle. The speed limit is 20, I think. Every time we go, no matter who is driving, at this curve he'll say "slow right down now, slow right down."

Here in Tennessee, there is a similar curve and without fail, either out loud or in my head, I'll say "slow right down now, slow right down." It's even rubbing off on Steve.

By the way, my mom was right about the experience thing. I can usually make food turn out the way I want it, but I learned that taste is much more important than presentation. On the way to church, this cake had an untimely run in with it's carrier. It was a mess, but instead of following my first impulse to fling it against the wall or just throw the whole thing in the trash, I ate it. It tasted excellent.

Just the 15 of us...

Just how hard is it to get back to the grind after spending a week with this??? First one to find me gets 200 points! (hint: Steve and I are the good-looking ones).

I have (temporarily, I hope) lost the will to blog. I've read very few of my massive list of bloggers I love, commented not at all, and now I'm so far behind that the task seems more than a little daunting. I'll be back soon, whether I like it or not.