the post about 10 things

pastor peters tagged me, so here goes:

1) when i flip through the channels, i have a hard time not stopping on bad fashion reality TV like project runway and america's next top model.

2) the holidays are hard for me, but not for the regular reasons; they're hard b/c i miss being in the nutcracker.

3) one of my pet peeves is people who are over the age of twenty-one or so and think they're so unique that no one can understand them. come on. we're all different, sure, but come on. get over yourself.

4) i've been to every continent except for antarctica.

5) i'm completely addicted to my own endorphins. i get moody if i don't work out.

6) my in-laws and my mom went to high school together.

7) i love target, but who doesn't?

8) i wash my car about once a year. we don't water our lawn.

9) i'm going to start blogging for my job soon.

10) i think i might be getting sick, which is a total bummer.

i think everyone whose blog i read has already done this, so i'm not going to tag anyone :)

the post about giving blood

i gave blood today.

the first time i gave blood was about eight years ago, as part of a college blood drive in which ms. rev's school was pitted against its most hated sports rival. the woman who found my vein (i use the word 'found' rather loosely here) did an awful job. i could feel the needle the entire time. i was sweating profusely (not glowing, or perspiring, or whatever. sweating). i almost fainted afterwards. it was one of the most awful things i'd ever done voluntarily (voluntarily). i quickly became one of the 95% of people eligible to give blood who yet does not. plus, hated sports rival got more blood than we did; my blood-letting was all for naught.

fast forward to now. several kids in the parish have cancer (yes, more than one). one of them hosted a blood drive at a local bank probably about 8 months ago. i wouldn't go so far as to say i liked it. i mean, really. let's not kid ourselves here. it's just that giving blood wasn't the horror show i remembered it being. other than the fact that the people are always disturbed that i've been to kenya (in june 2005), and other than the fact that, in this day and age, they have to verify EACH TIME that the area is "okay" (i'm actually not convinced that i was not in a malaria zone; i also think that the malaria would have shown up by now), it's not so bad. today i got a great apron. i tried to post a pic, but it was HUGE. the apron says, "i love pumpkin pie," except it says, "I (heart) (picture of pumpkin) (pi math symbol).

the moment i saw it, i was happy that such an apron was now in my possession because...

• the mr.'s grandmother gave relentlessly to the disaster relief section of the american red cross (carried a pager and everything). he'll love that the apron is from the red cross.
• the mr. loves my pumpkin pie (yes, i bake. sort of).
  
• the mr. loves math. he bought a calculus book FOR FUN the other day. ... yeah.
• the mr. loves to cook. cooks need aprons. it's a scientifically proved fact.
  

normally i would try and wait and give it to him, but i couldn't. i put it on right as i walked in the door last night.

i wrote the kid a card: "thanks for helping me get over myself. go socks!"

the miscellaneous post

i'm feeling a little annoyed:

parishioner: are you letting your hair grow out?

me: i'm not really sure what i'm doing.(<--not just applicable to my hair, but that's okay. parishioner doesn't need to know that.)

parishioner: well, growing it out is more girly. it looks like a boy's with it short.

grr. commenting on my hair? not appropriate. unless, of course, you want to tell me how great it looks. in other news:

• went to bed and breakfast with the mr., where we did b & b type things. weird to wake up and not be able to leap out of bed (okay, stumble groggily out of bed) and immediately began chores... delicious.
  
• movie watching ruled the weekend: carlito's way, hannah and her sisters, farewell my concubine
• i'm fairly certain i left my prayerbook outside on the ground after the 10:30 service. i'm going to try to beat the rain to it. good thing i have to go back for a requiem evensong anyhow.
• the mr. and i raked the backyard for about 1.5 hours this afternoon. we'll probably have to do it again before the fall is out. this was the preemptive raking of the pine needles.
  
• the mr. is making etoufee (no, spellcheck, NOT the same thing as Stouffer's) as i write. long live cajun food.
  

the post about parish ministry

i had one of those days that made me think, wow. my job is really, really weird.

8:30 a.m.: coffee w/ rector; talked about burn-out and thank you notes
9:30 a.m.: breakfast w/ parishioner, mother of two children under the age of 4, former advertising exec at ralph lauren (not rachel green from friends)
10:30 a.m.: emails, phone calls, wrote bulletin/newsletter announcements, wrote letter to judge on behalf of a mother in a custody battle
11:15 a.m.: debriefed w/ youth/young adult minister re: frustrations
12:00 p.m.: conversation w/ lay leader/rector about vestry elections; asked that they consult DRE before trying to cancel any adult education
12:30 p.m.: lunch in DRE's office; talked about Advent/life
1:30 p.m.: impromptu pastoral conversation w/ self-described drunk bipolar cocaine addict lesbian prostitute poet
2:15 p.m.: proofread/edited this sunday's requiem evensong bulletin; phone conversation with musician for said evensong; searched for appropriate nonbiblical reading (decided to choose poem from mary olivier's thirst)
3:30 p.m.: email to engaged couple telling them no, they could not have their deposit back, since they decided to get married elsewhere since the FOB doesn't want a woman officiant
4 p.m.: hospital visit to 11 year old who had emergency appendectomy; confused parking attendant with clergy badge because, and i quote, "you're not a man." <-- i can't make this s**t up.

and yet somehow i feel like i didn't get much done. i think that's the problem with having an amorphous job that doesn't have tangible results most of the time.

the post about getting older (or not)

this past week or so, i suddenly noticed faint but definite defiant wrinkles making their way across my forehead. my skin has the nerve to be both wrinkly AND zitty? that's just so mean! i thus have became one of those late twenty somethings who uses nightcream:



i feel like this should be totally beneath me, like i should know better. but i don't. clearly. it's mostly pure vanity. to be fair to me, i'm pretty sure it's not totally beneath the church as an institution. think about it.

the thing that irritates me is that it is not as if i have the wisdom that comes with age. no, in some ways, i'm still a kid. i was an extremely picky eater as a child. my mother literally could not get me to eat. poor thing had to stuff my mouth because i lost weight during some of my well baby checks. my mom discovered the wonder condiment: ketchup. i began to eat. to further complicate matters, i later had a butterfly retainer cemented in my mouth when i was something like three years old. i didn't have an underbite; i didn't have an overbite; i had a sideways bite from sucking my left pointer finger. so for a few months all i ate was campbell's tomato soup, instant grits, and applesauce.

i would no longer describe myself as picky. i have a few random food aversions. i don't like the texture of coconut, and i don't like most olives. other than that, i eat pretty widely, like a good little hipster. i adore sushi, indian food, and thai food. i'll try most anything once, with my crowning glory being stir fried bumblebees (tastes like popcorn). i'm all grown-up.

as a general rule, i recommend luna bars, particularly the nutz (sic) over chocolate and blueberry morning sunrise flavors, despite their silly names. i discovered them when i was vegan and missed the taste of chocolate. besides, they keep forever in my desk at work.

however, i have to amend my previous blanket luna endorsement because the following flavor is indescribably bad:



i literally cannot eat luna's lemonzest bars. i tried. on two different occasions. i spit the offending bar out both times, wrinkling my forehead in consternation over the nastiness that this is.

the post about hair, fish, and books

• when i came in yesterday, the mr.'s grandmother's fish, who i adopted after she died a few months ago, was dead (gone to join his original owner, i suppose). a dead fish is quite dramatic. it was lying on its side on the bottom of the bowl w/ its little eyes shut. i felt horrible.
  
• my hair is out of control. one would think my hair is too short to be out of control. not so. my haircutter cut my hair with a razor about two weeks ago. it is now wild. i tend to just stick a headband in it and declare victory, acting as if i meant for it to look so... mad scientist-esque, like those people who spend half an hour making their head look as if they just got out of bed. but the truth is, i've lost all control over my wee bit of hair, which is (let's call it what it is) pathetic.
  
• i broke down and ordered those three books: albert einstein biography, margaret atwood short stories, and blue like jazz are on their way. i'm ecstatic.
  

the post about clergy conference and books

i just got back from attending the mandatory clergy conference of this diocese. the next youngest woman? 45. and she is leaving. the next youngest after that is 49.

anyhow, monday morning was excellent; a new testament professor came and basically helped us to do a blitz bible study for advent sermon prep. she was great. she seemed so engaged with the text, and i imagine--though i don't know--that it might be partially due to her faith. i miss school.

monday afternoon was free. i spent two hours on the beach, one of those hours in the ocean. and THAT is why you live in the south... still in the atlantic in mid-october. it's unseasonably warm, but we'll breeze right over that. i actually got a slight sunburn on tuesday morning.

i swam alone on tuesday, after the conference was over. we all know that's a big no-no, especially in the ocean. i got all metaphorical thinking about how this time last year i felt like i was swimming alone-- no friends around, etc. etc. more dangerous than the situation itself--most people who swim alone end up coming out of the ocean--was not realizing/appreciating the potential danger of isolation--the consequences of getting sucked into a riptide.

that's too much pontificating pre-coffee.

on a totally unrelated note, i'm completely drooling over several books right now-- a new albert einstein biography, blue like jazz, and margaret atwood's moral disorder. i want them so much i'm actually distracted by it, but i feel guilty about buying stuff sometimes.