An Ill-Gotten Meme

My Life - The Movie

I stole this meme from Poetic License.

This meme is a great way for me to imagine what's going on in my life playing out on the big screen. So here are...The Rules!

If you had to select celebrities/actors to play the parts in the story of your life today (including yourself!), who would it be and why - this can be based on looks or personality.

1. List the people who would play you, and the key people in your life.
2. Give credit to the person who tagged you.
3. Tag four new people to participate.

Mom - Mariska Hargitay - Something about this lady has always reminded me of my mom. She plays a detective on Law & Order: SVU who's compassionate and hard-working, not to mention beautiful.

Dad - Steve Carell - If you completely wipe every thought of Michael Scott out of your mind, my dad could be Steve Carell. He's funny and a man dedicated to his family. He's even got the same nose!

Jeri (my best gal here in the Southland) - Tichina Arnold - This would be Tichina Arnold the "Little Shop of Horrors" version, not the crazed "Martin" version. She's a woman who speaks her mind and doesn't hold back.

Me - Jodie Foster - This woman presents herself the way I'd like to be seen: poised, articulate, talented and respected.

Steve - James Roday - This selection is because of Steven's man-crush on Shawn Spencer from "Psych." He'll say there's no man-crush involved, but when a man who says the best movie ever made is "The Lion King" suddenly says he respects someones work as an actor, there's a little man-crushing going on.

From a conversation heard recently in our house:

Sarah: You really love James Roday, don't you?!
Steve: I really respect him as an actor.
Sarah: You love him! You've got a man-crush!
Steve: Well, you've got a woman-crush on Jodie Foster.
Sarah: Well, at least she's gay!

Yeah, we're real mature around here.

Ooh, I almost forgot the tagging!

1. Suldog, simply because he reminds me of the joys of telling someone else what to do.
2. Ryan
3. Karla
and hmm, I don't know how about
4. Janet

I have nothing to say.

I invented a new tuna salad yesterday! Tuna + Miracle Whip + raisins + slivered almonds + mixed greens + raspberry vinaigrette dressing = FANtastic eats!!!

So I'm reading Stephen King's It. I have an unnatural fear of clowns, so I've naturally stayed away from this book for quite some time. I noticed it on the library shelf, though, and realized it's the only book he's published that I haven't read and so I felt compelled to check it out. I had to look far and wide on the 'net for a picture of the book cover that didn't feature that ghastly clown. A little aside here: remind me to tell you of the time my sister, Patti, scared the everliving bejeebers out of me with just a simple picture.

***note to readers*** Do NOT, I repeat DONOT attempt to eat delicious though squishy tuna salad while reading It. Actually, stay away from reading Stephen King period for as long as you're eating. Sooner or later, that tuna salad, no matter how delectable it may be, will start to remind you of guts or worse.

That is all. Get back to work!

Job Woes

Part of my job is obtaining authorization from insurance companies for medications. Basically, insurance companies are the DEVIL and they don't want to pay for anything, even if you've spent your life paying them your hard-earned cash. If your doctor prescribes you a medication they don't think is necessary (despite the fact that they are NOT doctors), they'll refuse to pay for it and force the doctors office to call and threaten them with bodily harm before they'll agree to cover it.

So you get the idea that I really hate insurance companies, right?

Whenever I am able to get them to cover something, I feel like there should be bells ringing, thunderous applause and doves being released into the clear blue sky. But alas, I am lucky to get even a simple thank you for all my hard work.

Which reminds me of the best job I've ever had, which was working at a library.

One of the workers there was a lady named Michelle. She had many duties, the best of which was leading "Storytime" when kids would come from all over campus and listen to her read a book. She'd use different voices, draw out the suspense and keep the kids begging for more. I used to hurry and finish my work so I could sit with the kids, rapt, as she shared stories of Stellaluna, St. George and the Dragon, and Thunder Cake.

One of the best things about Michelle is the way she can make everyday, mundane tasks seem exciting. Everything she says is an exclamation:

"Let's re-shelve these books!" or "You watered the plants?! Yes!!!"

Better than that is the excitement she can make you feel when you do a good job. Life is always better with sound effects, and just hearing her say "Ta-da!" is enough to bring a smile to my face.

I think I'll try to develop this little personality trait myself. Next time I get a patient's meds paid for, I might just do a cartwheel.

Some pics to enjoy...

A while back I mentioned Becky giving away a burp in a cup as a Christmas gift. I stumbled upon this picture of my brother, Philip, receiving this lovely gift and just had to share it.

Also, Philip and his wife, Jennifer, have just had a baby, Jonathan. He was born on Monday and all is well, thanks be to God. Congrats to them all! (Can't wait til Christmas when I'll get to meet him...)

A Little Recap

Steven's been preaching a series out of the book of Matthew. Yesterday he talked about the portion regarding murder. Do you realize that according to the Bible, if you hate someone, you're guilty of murder? Check it out:

You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to his brother, 'Raca*,' is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, 'You fool!' will be in danger of the fire of hell. Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift. Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still with him on the way, or he may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison. I tell you the truth, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny. [Matthew 5:21-26]

Also, he related the story of a man who had a great debt. The man he owed ordered that he and his wife and children be sold to repay the debt. The debtor begged and pleaded with the man to be merciful and mercy was granted. The debt was forgiven. A little later, this same forgiven man saw another man that owed him just a few dollars. He grabbed him by the neck and started to choke him, demanding that his money be paid right away. When man number three begged for forgiveness, it was denied. He was thrown in prison until he could repay the money. When the first man heard about this, he was angered and reinstated the original debt. (from Matthew 18)

The same is true with us. Jesus paid it all when he granted us salvation. We owe Him more than we could ever repay, and yet he asks for nothing. How dare we refuse to give forgiveness to others in the face of such mercy as we have been shown?

*That word, "Raca," according to Steven, means stupid or ignorant. Basically degrading someone as low as they can be degraded.

Kentucky Critters (part two)

So there I was, just reading in the living room. I had just gotten out of the shower and was all wrapped up in my big, fluffy robe. I had a kettle of water on the stove for a nice cup of tea. The sun was shining in through the windows, the hubby was taking a nap, and all was right with the world.

Or so I thought.

As I turned a page in my book, my eyes happened upon a dark shape on my sleeve. An M & M? Maybe a chocolate chip? NO! It was a TICK! I gasped in horror, jumped up off the couch and stripped off the robe. I carefully bent over the material and looked at where the tick had been. It wasn't there! A shudder ran over me as I realized it may still be on me! I ran to the bedroom, waking my unsuspecting husband with nonsensical gibbering. I'm sure he was shocked to find his nearly nude wife slapping at herself and waving her hair all over. After he realized that I wanted him to check my hair and make sure the tick wasn't there sucking out all my blood, he came to his senses, checked me out and assured me that I was, in fact, not being eaten by a mini vampire. And then he went back to sleep.

But then where WAS the monster?

I crept back into the living room and poked around some more in the folds of my robe. There it was! The little devil was trying to hide! Now normally I am a person who'd rather live and let live. I rescue frogs that accidentally find themselves in campground bathrooms or spiders that others would squish. But this TICK was in my HOUSE! On ME! It had to go. I ran to the kitchen and got a butcher knife. I tried sawing the tick in half, but it refused to die. I scooped it up on the blade of the knife and carried it to the kitchen. There, I placed it in the sink and tried to saw some more. Either my hands were shaking or he was wearing some kind of armor, because he REFUSED TO BE CUT! I washed him down the drain and poured an entire kettle of boiling water down after him. I went and got my robe and considered throwing it away or burning it, but settled for washing it with about an entire bottle of bleach.

Overkill? I think not.

Kentucky Critters (part one)

I relayed these stories a while back in the days of myspace but since no one here has heard them yet, here for your reading pleasure is:

The Snake Story (referred to here)

You can thank PATTI for asking about this. And since I'm completely addicted to blogging, rather than just telling her the story over the phone, I told her to tune in to my blog.

Once upon a time, my beloved and I lived in Pineville, Kentucky. My husband was the youth minister at Hosman Baptist Church, located in Magnet Hollow (that's pronounced "holler" in case you're wondering). We lived in our church's parsonage, which was a double-wide trailer. It was butted right against a mountain. If I stepped out my back door, I was about ten feet from the rocky face.

We lived many happy days there, enjoying the sun rising over the mountains and the leaves changing in fall. Little did we know that a myriad of deadly and ferocious creatures were closing in on us.

One day I was enjoying a good book in the living room when suddenly, I heard Steven utter his favorite exclamation, "FUDGE!"

"Wha....?" I asked, engrossed in my book.

"There'sasnakeinthehouse!" he screeched like a little girl.

"Cottonmouth, rattlesnake, blacksnake...," I wondered as I raced in for a look.

And behold, here is what I saw...



Ok, so it was more like this:



...but it was still scary!

I raced for the computer to figure out what we were up against. Entered the beast's stats. Length, weight, coloring. We had a Ringneck Snake in our dining room, just crawling across the floor like he owned the place. Luckily, Ringnecks are common and harmless (but still scary!) and so Steven bravely cajoled the monster into a Wal-Mart sack and ushered him out into the great outdoors.

The End.

or is it?

Milquetoast

Today my boss asked me to call someone and "confront him." And she said it with no sense of irony whatsoever. I even looked at her incredulously and said, "You want ME to confront somebody?!"

I am, by definition, a milquetoast person. Milquetoast is one of those words I just despise. Why? Because it sounds like milk and toast, that's why! Two of the blandest foods in all the world. Milk and toast don't confront people, they just sit quietly and breed bacteria. I would like to be some spicy and flavorful word, like piquant or sapid.

But, alas, it is not to be. I'm stuck with milquetoast.

How about you? What's your descriptive word?

An Excellent Read

While camping, I finished reading Julius Winsome by Gerard Donovan. Never mind the fact that the book is now forever ruined by a torrential downpour that flooded our tent. Never mind that it was an autographed copy, which I was brilliant enough to take camping in the wild, wild woods. This is my new favorite book of the moment.

Julius lives with his dog in a cabin in the woods. His dog is intentionally killed by a hunter and Julius goes a little mad.

The language is the best part of this book, in my not so humble opinion. Julius is a man in love with books and his love shows up in the way he talks.

A little example:

"Hearing that, I realized that the medals and the rifle were not the only things my grandfather brought back from the war. The men he killed dragged themselves across seas and rivers, roads and hills, an inch a day, unerring as to the compass that pointed to my grandfather, and when they found him, they must have smelled his dreams, tasted them too, ate them until they were the only dream that was left in his head, the only one his sleep could produce, and so he soon stopped sleeping and spent the nights with his eyes open in the dark."

This one made me want to cry and cheer and beg for more at the end. Just a beautifully written book.

Which of us haven't wanted to take matters into our own hands when confronted with some injustice, no matter how seemingly trivial?

I'm back and I've come to a decision...

I don't belong here. Try waking up to the smell of smog and the sound of too many people shoved into too small a space for a few years and then go for a week of waking up to this.

Gorgeous, clear water, shady, cool forests and solitude. Sweet, sweet silence. Nothing to do but read a good book and listen to the birds and chipmunks talk to each other.

So here is my new ultimate coolest job in all the world. Campground host. You get to live in the state park from April until October and welcome campers. Cook over an open flame, meet new people (and by the way, campers are the best), sleep out in the elements, enjoy the earth.

Steve and I stayed at the Red Top Mountain State Park in Cartersville, GA. A mere 45 minute drive from Atlanta, and yet a world all its own.

We discovered City Pass, a ticket book that allows you to visit six major attractions for one low, low price. (Think they'll accept me as their spokesblogger?) We are the ultimate tourists, so this was right up our alley. We went to the Aquarium, The World of Coke, toured CNN studios, went to the Zoo, the Botanical Gardens, and the Art Museum. We're a little worn out.

We stayed at the State Park for four nights and then stayed with some friends who live in a suburb of Atlanta for the weekend. Thanks to Jeff, Lyndi and Ryan for putting up with us. And for taking us to the JohnnyDome, also known as First Baptist Church of Woodstock, Georgia. A ton of people, but very loving and very organized.

Definitely a trip worth repeating.

First Kiss

It took me three months to kiss my boyfriend for the first time. It wasn't for his lack of trying, I can assure you. We'd go places and park, and he'd look so cute and earnest, all puckered up. But to no avail.

I've always been a person slow to show emotions.

So when I finally broke down, sitting on my parent's porch late one evening with him reclining next to me, it was a pretty big deal. I liked to touch his face. He'd close his eyes, and I'd trace them with my fingers. Eyebrows, cheeks, nose, forehead and back again.

Then it occurred to me. What am I doing? I love this kid, so why am I making him suffer? Kissing is just another way we show affection, right? While his eyes were still closed I leaned in slowly and gave him the lightest, most chaste kiss possible. His eyes flew open, he jumped to his feet and started running. Did I have bad breath? Chapped lips? Was I just the world's worst kisser?

And then I heard it. He was yelling. From somewhere on the next block, he was yelling. Not in disgust, but for joy!

That kiss was the first of thousands, the most memorable of which occurred on our wedding day two years later. He managed to reign in his excitement and not go whooping down the aisle, but just barely. I still remember the huge smile on his face. It was on mine, too.

My real first kiss story, (well, the first one that counts) humbly submitted for Scribbit's August Write-Away Contest.

Regarding VBS...

We ended the week with a total of 30(!) kids enrolled, 1 profession of faith, lots of great memories and many new prospects. We were able to get to know our community a little better and we're really looking forward to what's coming next. Thanks for the prayers.

God is great!

Que Sarah on Holiday

I'm on V A C A T I O N !!!!!

Steve and I are off to Atlanta for a week for a much-needed break.

See ya soon!!!

I may be setting myself up for disaster...

If I continue my mini-tradition of posting a birthday tribute to my family members, eventually (it would stand to reason) there will be someone that I just don't like know well enough to fill up a post with their praises. Ah well, I guess I'll just go until I fail. Without further ado, here is:

Happy Birthday, Steven!

Steven is my one true love. Awwww (or "ick", whichever you prefer). Without him, we would have un-vacuumed floors, wrinkly clothing and miscellaneous insects and critters.

When we had a snake in our dining room in Kentucky, Steven was the brave one who wrestled it into a Wal-mart bag and out the door (after I frantically googled it to ensure no deadly fangs would pop out).

We've been married seven years. Or is it eight? That's another thing, Steven is the keeper of the anniversaries. I have no idea when we were married or what time. I only remember it was cold. Ah ha! December 2nd. If it weren't for him, birthdays would be forgotten and family members would cry. If it weren't for him, I'd have no idea what time to get up for church or what time to leave the house to be at the Waffle House by 6:00.

He's a computer GENIUS! He recently built us a new computer and was generous enough to let me say I helped.

He's got perfect eyebrows, a beautiful smile, and a great sense of humor.
He's loves kids and animals and isn't afraid of anything. Except cooties.

He's my Steevert, and if you hurt him, you're goin' down.

I love you, baby. Happy 28th.