the post about steamers

the mr. is a fantastic cook, and he loves to do it to boot. but, left to his own devices in place where he's training, he will do eat poorly: junior bacon cheeseburgers, an entire bag of tater tots for dinner, BK broiler stacks... i think you probably get the gist. this leads to ulcers on his part. and as much as he loves to cook (no, really), he likes to do things like reroof the shed more when he's actually here (he's like a domestic god, which works, since i'm a domestic idiot).

in other words, i'm doing more of the cooking lately. now, i'm not a bad cook. i can follow a recipe. i can be inventive but not in a scary "good lord, what is that?" sort of way. but i have definite brain farts, like, "which one is a skillet again?" i also forget to put ingredients in (i write it off as part of my charm). i'm just insecure, particularly in the greatness of the mr.'s skills, and, like everyone else in the free world, a little time strapped on occasion. anyhow.

what i'm trying to say is this: i've discovered these (kind of in the same way christopher columbus discovered america, as in, my 'discovery' is pretty much a misnomer), and i'm digging them thus far:



you just throw the bag in the microwave for like 5 minutes, and voila! yummy veggies. there are a few other varieties, including garlic cauliflower, and there also is a family-sized pack.

that is all.

the post about lusting after shoes

the mr. is at home tonight, which is great and unusual. and yet, somehow, all i can think about are my latest conquests. this has less to do w/ the mr. and far more to do with the fact that i have shown remarkable restraint and have not purchased any shoes for about nine months:



these lovelies are on their way to me now via ups. they're going to be the perfect shoe for the pulpit this fall and winter (remember, i live in the south). if they're anything like my other peep toes from this same company (see current profile pic), they'll look fantastic/outlandish and be surprisingly comfortable, too.

i picked these up at target the other day (say it with me: tar-jay!):



i wore them today, and they looked absolutely fabulous but gave me a slight blister. grr. i'm hoping that it'll be better when they break in some.

i'm so vain; i bet i think this post is about me... carly simon, anyone?

ahem. yeah.

the post about which no one will care

might we have a brief discussion about how tired i am?

i am. so tired.

poo on wanting to maintain some semblance of propriety by not having couches in my office.

poo on work.

poo on big huge homecoming sundays that sap the energy of leetle closet introvert me.

poo on preaching this coming sunday at three services, one of which must be a children's sermon, which are so much harder than "regular" sermons and leading the creatively named high school group and officiating at evensong.

sigh. and blah. and no one wants to hear this.

the post about no prayer before judgment

given one of my below posts, it probably will not surprise anyone that i got a speeding ticket a few weeks ago (though might surprise you to find out that i actually hadn't had a moving violation in over ten years). i called friendly lawyer parishioner guy (note: again, something i really shouldn't be doing) and asked with him, embarrassingly, to "take care of it." he said he was happy to do so (after explaining to me where he had been last sunday--see below--though i didn't ask and quite frankly didn't care).

however.

i was speeding in a school zone (going 40 mph in a 25 mph , to be more exact). in my defense, school had started that week, and i don't normally drive on this street during the posted hours. but i was.

now, i'm not a lawyer (clearly). i did know that if you don't have lots of moving violations, you normally can appear in court on your appointed day and ask for a reduction. i had forgotten that doing so is known as "prayer before judgment," which, given my line of work, intrigued me.

however, since i was speeding in a school zone, i am not allowed a prayer before judgment. i am NOT ALLOWED a PRAYER BEFORE JUDGMENT. me and DUIers forfeit the chance to have a prayer before judgment. what kind of theology is that? apparently, speeding in school zone is the unforgivable sin against the holy ghost to which jesus refers.

i'm being sent to driver purgatory (all of that reformation stuff for naught) aka "driver improvement school" aka bad driver class aka clever way for community college to stay afloat by charging $55 for 8 hours for delinquent people like myself who can't afford to have their insurance go up and do not want to lose their license, either.

the post about guilt

well, it's that time of year again, the time when the summer is officially over, school is back in session, and people start coming back to church. at this time, i have to keep reminding myself *not* to say one particular four letter word, one four letter word that is the mack-daddy (are we still saying mack daddy?) of the long list of four letter words that ms. reverend... or not tries not to say and yet invariably says...

y'all, the word is "miss."

surprised? let me back up for a minute here.

i've found that i simply cannot say to a parishioner "i've missed you." when i was a wee ordained lass, and did not have all of 1.1 years of ordained experience under my belt, i would occasionally utter the dreaded three word phrase. now, when i said to a parishioner, "i've missed you," i meant something like this: "hey, it's been awhile since i've seen you. i think you're kinda neat, and i like having you around, so it's good to see you again."

the response i received was, with shockingly little variation, something to this effect: "well, uh, we've been, uh, busy. work has been awful, my parents are sick, the kids have soccer games and swim meets and violin rehearsals during church, and, wouldn't you know, the beloved family gerbil died, too."

from this, i gather what they thought i was trying to say went something like this: "YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN CHURCH IN WEEKS!!! EXPLAIN YOURSELF, YOU WORTHLESS WORM, OR RISK ETERNAL DAMNATION!"

it makes me sad and actually a little angry that it seems (from my totally unscientific, anecdotal evidence) that the human emotional trump card of guilt is dwarfing all else, including the chance that i actually, in fact, merely missed said person or family, nothing more, nothing less. i like feeling as if i'm able to speak my mind when i want, something which has gotten me into trouble more than once. i've been willing to pay that price because i feel the cost is my authenticity. since i made a conscious decision not to tell parishioners i've missed them, i wonder why i've made an exception.

i think the answer goes a little something like this: i grew up in the south, where guilt, particularly within families, is nothing less than an art form. i don't even know how many times i've been blindsided by guilt, some of it well-deserved, some not at all deserved in any form or fashion. because of the many, many ways and times guilt has been used on me to try and get me to do or not do things, i'm not a big fan of people purposefully trying to make me feel guilty, so i try not to inflict that on others if i can possibly help it.

i suppose, then, there's a certain irony in the fact that i'm employed by an institution that, when it comes down to it, may have not been able to sustain itself without the use of guilt. which makes me wonder: is it okay for me to play the guilt card for greater ends? my knee jerk reaction is to say, "no, of course not; that's an abuse of power and position." to be fair, though, to be the devil's advocate, what am i missing, if anything at all, by trying to give guilt the proverbial heave-ho?