I didn't eat breakfast this morning, so I am dreaming of my favorite noodle salad that's sitting in my fridge at home.  I make this whenever Mark's out of town (or even when he's in town) - it's so healthy and fresh and good.  There are a million recipies out there for something like this, but this is the A-G method.  I think I've finally tweaked the recipie to the point of perfection.  Maybe.

Thai Cold Peanut Noodle Salad
(Makes 4-6 servings)

2 bunches udon or soba noodles, cooked and rinsed with cold water
1/4 a Savoy cabbage, shredded in small strips
1 carrot, shredded
I green onion, sliced thinly on the diagonal
1 cup sugar snap peas, boiled with the noodles and rinsed with cold water

Dressing:
3 Tbs. smooth peanut butter
2 Tbs. soy sauce
pinch of red pepper flakes or a splash of sweet chili sauce
2 tsp of Naturally Fresh ginger salad dressing (or, a 1/2 tsp ground ginger and a teaspoon of rice vinegar)
1 Tbs sugar
1 Tbs. dark sesame oil
3 Tbs. hot water (or more if needed)

Combine noodles and raw vegetables in a big bowl.  Combine dressing with a wire whisk.  Pour dressing over salad.  Mix thoroughly.  Eat. 

You can also garnish with sesame seeds or peanuts.  Mark likes sesame seeds that have been toasted just a little bit.  I was thinking that an extra splash or two of lime juice would be good in the dressing, too. 
 

What did you do in 2008 that you've never done before?
Joined the Episcopal church.  Adopted two cats. 

Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't remember any from last year... I think this year's are to pray more, judge less, learn how to make perfect pork roast and a demi-glace and osso bucco and finally learn to make clear, brothy soups from my amazing soup cookbook...

Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes!

Did anyone close to you die?
Mark's Uncle Michael.  My friend Kelly Jo from camp. 

What countries did you visit?
None - this was an unusual year for the A-Gs, as we usually take a trip once a year to a new place. 

What would you like to have in 2009 that you didn't have in 2008?
A gym membership. 

What dates from 2008 will remain etched in your memory, and why?
Election Night - smoking a cigar on the couch and crying with half the country.  Oversleeping on Easter morning.  Quitting my job in May.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Tackling a CPE residency when I was so frightened of hospitals not too long ago.  I feel like I can experience crisis now in a way that I was never able to before. 

What was your biggest failure?
Not keeping in touch with friends from school... recognizing that some of those relationships are slowly drifting out of my life.  

Did you suffer illness or injury?
Thankfully, nothing serious - but my TMJ has gotten extremely painful.  This was the year I finally did something about it. 

What was the best thing you bought?
I started a wine cellar this year, and it's now my new favorite hobby.

Where did most of your money go? 
Rent.  Wine.  Yarn.  Gifts for family and friends.

What did you get really, really, really excited about? 
Becoming an Episcopal priest. 

What song will always remind you of 2008?
"Astair" by Matt Costa.

Compared to this time last year, are you?
a) happier, or sadder?  Um.  Definitely happier.
b) thinner, or fatter? About the same.
c) richer, or poorer? Richer, now that I'm not working for poverty wages.

What do you wish you'd done more of? 
Laugh.

What do you wish you'd done less of? 
Puttering around the house.

How did you spend Christmas? 
Pre-Christmas was in Irmo with my family, and we spent a couple of days laughing and catching up and dancing.
Christmas Eve was at Grandma and Grandpa's and to HC for two services.  We got to bed at about 1am.  Christmas Day I was on-call at the hospital, and Mark came to eat lunch with me.  I only had five calls that night.
Post-Christmas was with Mark's family in L.S., and we went to church at Glenn's new preaching post that Sunday. 

What was your favorite TV program? 
Current favorites are How I Met Your Mother, and 30 Rock.  Though 2008 favorites would have to include Boston Legal and Arrested Development.

What was the best book you read? 
The Brothers K.  Without a doubt the best book I've read about the ever-changing dynamics in a family and sibling relationships.

What did you want, and get? 
A beautiful dining set. 

What did you want, and not get? 
A Cooper Mini.

What was your favorite film of this year? 
I hate to admit it to Mark, but I really enjoyed the BBC Planet Earth series. 

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? 
I turned 28 - Mark invited lots of people to our house for homemade pizza and drinks.  Molly and John and Heather and Brian stayed late talking theology and ministry.  I met Mark Mullinax. 

What kept you sane? 
Cooking with Mark at the end of a long day.  The first sip of a Tangueray gin and tonic.  The cats crawling in my lap.  Windy storms blowing through Tryon.  Trips to Asheville on Saturdays.

Who did you miss?
The circle of friends we had in Raleigh and Durham.  My Good Shepherd teenagers. Div school folks.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.
Never try to force a terrible job to work out just because you need the money.  Be willing to quit, even if it feels like failing. 

The talking heads are on the TV, and pretty soon we'll stay glued for glimpses of maps with blue and red states.  I am drinking an Election Night Martini - A-G style, with no olives.  Yum.  And, later, Mark and I will celebrate (or mourn) the status of our country's future with some wonderful cigars from a cute little place we found in Asheville last weekend.  The owner, in his smooth double-breasted suit, stood and talked with us for awhile, and gave us a free cigar with the four we'd picked out.  He made sure we knew that the tobacco we were smoking was GOOD for you, since it was grown with no pesticides.  Heh.  And then he talked about how he was voting for McCain, being a former Marine himself.  I was reminded of four years ago at about this time - when one of my roommates at the time waltzed in the door around midnight holding a twelve-pack box of Coors (in cans), claiming loudly she was drowning her sorrows, thank you very much, as she cracked open another one.  I was reminded of how bitterly divided the Divinity classrooms were the next day when we arrived for class, between either the smug or the somber.  I was reminded of how everyone was convinced of how RIGHT they were, blue or red.  

I don't have eloquent answers for all this division - only that I have found grace to exist in the gray areas, the places where people are willing to share their differences and honor the differences in others.  I pray that tomorrow I will wake up, and regardless of the outcome, will find those gray places again. 

Speaking of gray, haaaaaaave you met my cats? 

Well, hello there. 

I call it the CPE Vortex.  I have been sucked in.  I am behind on everything - and not just in the sense of, like, oh my job, my job BLAH BLAH is soooo hard BLAH BLAH and I'm sooooo busy BLAH BLAH.  (Not that that argument isn't used plenty of times of this here blog.)  More like, in the sense of: I have not talked to a friend or a family member on the phone in weeks.  I sure hope my parents are still alive.  I feel like every day I am constantly coming home, drinking a glass or two of wine, and falling asleep on the couch at 8:30pm.  I live at the hospital. 

There are several wonderful things I've witnessed and seen throughout the last month, and a la Martha Stewart, here is my list of  

Good Things
1. Brewgrass in Asheville.  Read about the A-G experience on my husband's beer blog, Permspicks.  It was the first time I think I've been truly relaxed in weeks. 

2. Yarn from Sheri at the Loopy Ewe.  It's all about socks this autumn, here at Chez A-G.  I finished the On-Call Socks I'd been working on through the summer, and I'm launching into my first pair of ankle socks as we speak.  Ahh. Wool to keep the toes warm.  And speaking of,

3. The first day of fall.  The other night, after choir practice, Mark and I split a Wolaver's organic farmhouse ale and sat on the front porch for, oh, two or three hours straight.  There's something about the chill in the air that makes me very sappily nostalgic for Duke and fall break trips to New England.  It was around this time, five years ago, when Mark and I were driving to DC and first began talking about getting engaged.  It was around this time, two years ago, when some of my favoritest people in the whole world were in Durham all at once for Convocation and the World Beer festival. 

4. Kittens.  Meet Lily.  She was found by some folks from HC after a huge thunderstorm, in a tree.  We adopted her as a pet for Clair.  (Clair mostly hates her.) 


 

Wow.  Has it really been almost two months since I last posted?  Crap.  Well, I have no real way to update all you dear, beloved readers on the comings and goings in my life over the last eight weeks, at least not without writing a lengthy (and probably boring) treatise of sheer blabbering.  So I'm opting for the way one of my favorite bloggers updates her blog occasionally.  Let's play: Awesome, or Not Awesome?

Awesome.  New job as a CPE resident.  Holy crap.  I've learned more about ministry in the last eight weeks than over the last five years serving churches.  I really, truly love what I do.  There are days when I want to race home and uncork a nice Bordeaux and drink the entire thing while wallowing in a lukewarm bubble bath, but, the majority of the time it really is fabulous.  Minister friends, am I weird? 
(In short, if you hadn't heard this before - CPE is short for Clinical Pastoral Education, and I'm basically serving as a hospital chaplain for the next year.  I work about fifty hours a week and frequently am on-call, which means I sleep at the hospital and answer all trauma and death calls on my pager.  I also spend my mornings in seminars and small-group sessions, trying to learn as much as possible about who I am and what I bring to others when I step into a room as a ministerial presence.  I also visit hospital patients in the oncology center, and in critical care/ICU areas in the afternoons.  It is scary, thrilling, frustrating, and good all at once.) 
Not awesome.  Driving 30 minutes to work everyday.  I realize that many of you might be paying even more for gas than I am, but guys, holy hell, this sucks. Luckily, I carpool (when I can) with a church member. 

Awesome.  Babies.  Mark and I met our brand-new nephew this past weekend.  He is the first baby I have ever held that I felt like I could hold forever.  I seriously did NOT want to put him down.  Father and Mother are doing great - they seem to be naturals at this!!  I also met, for the first time, my seminary roommate's child while we were in town.  Oh my GAWD this girl is gorgeous.  I loved how directly she would look at people, especially her mom.  Wow. 

Not awesome.  The rectory's in terrible shape this summer.  We are discovering so many things wrong with our home - terrible bug problem (which, please, please, please Jebus I hoped we've solved), water pressure in the showers gone down, air duct/ventilation problem.  And, even worse, the church is not proving to be a stellar landlord.  There are any number of people who claim responsibility for facilities and upkeep - so we never know who to turn to. 

Awesome.  Mark and his dad went to see some baseball games for the next couple of days, and I am ALONE and FREE to do whatever I want.  Seasons 2 &3 of Boston Legal on DVD?  Yes please. 

Not awesome.  Got my hair cut today.  Yeah.  WAY shorter than I'd intended.  No, you can't see pictures. 

Really, it's impossible to write your thoughts about a movie without revealing a few spoilers.  So be warned...

I really, really liked this movie.  And I am generally quite critical of popular movies - especially those with a saccarine-sweet "chick-flick" feel.  But I adore Sex and the City.  Watching this show brings back all these memories from my college days with friends and cocktails, watching these stylish and successfully women navigate the single world in New York.  The stories were all so fun, and I just wanted to be a part of this close-knit circle of friends. 

Oh, and I caught a matinee show on a Wednesday - there were about twelve people in the theater.  Every single person was a woman over the age of fifty.  It was marvelous.  I suppose a great date would be you and your awesome sister, or you, your best friend and a hot gay friend at a theater that serves alcohol, but I thoroughly enjoyed the time to myself.  I surely didn't want to bring the Husband with me.  There are few things upon which Mark absolutely refuses to do with me, and one is watch Sex and the City. 

I do have a few random things to comment on:

1.  My favorite moment in the entire movie was when Carrie and Big were fighting, and her friends pull her away from him.  As they're walking her away, he moves back toward her in a gesture of reconciliation - and Charlotte intervenes with a sharp "NO" and moves Carrie farther away from him.  You see this wildly angry look on Charlotte's face, and you realize how much she is trying to protect Carrie from any further conflict with Big.  It was such a fierce moment of love and anger on Carrie's behalf that I teared up.  I thought - I want girlfriends like that.  What an amazing moment. 

2.  What the hell was Carrie wearing on her head at the wedding?  There's this fantastic scene when the girls are in Mexico, drinking margaritas and talking about the event.  Carrie drunkenly slurs, "I did everything for him.  I even put a bird on my head for him."  Miranda is all, "What? I thought that was a feather."  And Carrie affirms, "No, oh, no, it was a bird."  Ha.

3.  The fashion did get a little ridiculous, I will admit.  I've always admired how these characters will wear the most outrageous clothes just like they're gorgeous (when the clothes are downright HIDEOUS), but come on.  It got a little too obvious that the costume director was little too smitten with flaunting some labels.  The brightly colored knee-high socks?  The huge earrings?  The over-sized flowers pinned on the dresses?  I never see regular New Yorkers dressed like this when I visit there.

4.  Joanna Gleason has a cameo as Miranda and Steve's marriage counselor.  I effin' LOVE her. 

5. The New Year's scenes and the playing of "Auld Lang Syne?"  I DEFY you to not cry. 

6.  Okay, here's the rub: the reason that I liked this show so much was its edginess.  That HBO-ishness, that raw honesty and graphic discussion of sex, the real ways the women are committed to their friendships with each other, and the jerks and good men who stepped up to love them.  But the movie loses some of that edge.  It's a little less unexpected.  You know it's a movie and it wouldn't be complete without a happy ending.  I guess I always want characters to deal with a real sense of loss that's never restored in the same way again - and it seemed like all that happened for each character was a momentary life shake-up, and then everything is restored to normal.  Happy ending.  No real growth.  No real sacrifice.  No edginess. 

Oh, but I will admit and applaud the way they embraced the concept of forgiveness as Miranda and Steve began to repair things.  I liked the counsel of:  you need to realize that everything that once happened is all over, and you can finally choose to let go of the past.  That in one simple moment, you see the other person clearly and you can choose to love one another again.  It reminded me of the note taped up in my friend Ashley's dorm room in seminary: "Love is a choice." 

Good movie.  I would see it again.  Preferably with a martini in my hand next time. 

I am way, way overdue for a posting, mostly because things have careened back and forth between insanely busy and slow, slow, slow.  Where the hell did May go?

First, Mark and I had a fabulous trip to Asheville.  We both needed a break from life at home, and Asheville is just far enough away that we were able to get some space and time to ourselves.  Gorgeous weather, good food, lots of time to read books and talk and take walks through the mountains.  It was such a gift.

As our anniversary trip was wrapping up, we stopped at the airport and picked up Jenn for a family visit.  We were soon joined in Tryon by Glenn and Cindy, Brian and Beth, and many others who shared in a celebration of B&B's soon-to-come family addition!  It was a great gathering and time to see each other before the baby is born this summer.  While Jenn was in town - Mark and I took her to Hendersonville to see the new Indiana Jones movie.  (Ugh, I said, but Mark and Jennifer were a bit more gracious in their criticism.  See Mark's blog for a full review - he really makes some good points about the movie.) 

Let's see, let's see... then I spent a good deal of last week bumming around.  I've been reading, I've been knitting, I've been tidying the house while my employed spouse is away.  I am reclaiming some breathing space post-job.  And developing new fears about the upcoming new job.  But that's a whole 'nother post in itself. 

Last weekend we drove up to Virginia to see Tasi and Kristen for a couple of days, stopping in Durham to pick up Tim.  It was likewise a good time together, a fun gathering, and some important decompressing in light of a big event.  Opposite the baby shower, though: we had a memorial service for Caleb.  It was a good service, a little music, lots of story-telling about Caleb, lots of tears and emotions.  Afterward, we had the 4th Annual Beer Festivus at their house, tasting about seventeen brews over the course of the rest of the day.  We certainly had fun - it was just a different kind of fun from the previous weekend. 

Now I'm back to bumming around at home, making plans about how to spend our economic stimulus money and washing clothes and playing on the Internets.  And reading, reading, reading. 

Today, Mark and I have been married for three years.  In honor of him, I present some fun facts about him that I've learned over the last three years.  (Now, posted on the Internets for all the world to see!)



Mark is extremely kind and generous, and hates being critical of people.  Our friend Craig calls him "a gentle soul." 

Mark bakes.  A lot.  He takes it very seriously... and recipes seem to be a hit or a miss.  He's working on sourdough, but makes a good white loaf, pita bread, and Indian roti.

In seminary, Mark took several Hebrew classes and did quite well.  (I, however, avoided all those crazy languages like the plague.) He is really good at memorizing characters, pronunciation, meaning... he's also quite good at subjects like history - remembering dates and importance and prominent figures suits him.  I am the opposite of this. 

Mark is the proud brewmaster of the St. Cecilia Brewery of Tryon, NC.  (In our basement.)  My favorite beer he's made so far is an IPA.  All of his brews are named after his favorite composers.  (NERD ALERT.)

Mark smokes a pipe on occasion, and lately, his drink of choice is an Old Fashioned.  (Other than beer, of course.) 



On Sunday mornings, Mark wears a Canterbury cross that I brought him back from England in 2006. 

When we were at Duke, and for a couple of years after, Mark played the lunchtime demo hour on the organs in Duke chapel.  Sometimes I would go with him and turn pages. 

Mark is very well traveled, and seems to adapt pretty quickly when he's in a foreign country.  He lived in Latin America for several years growing up. 

One of Mark's heroes is Dr. Indiana Jones.  The kick-ass adventurer SLASH nerdy anthropology professor. 



Mark cares a lot about good food and good stewardship of the land (a la Wendell Berry) and yet will still eat spicy chicken biscuits from Bojangles.

Mark was a part of a barbershop quartet in seminary called "the Sons of the Prophets."  This is par for the course with Mark - he has participated in musical groups like this for decades. 

My favorite date with Mark was on our honeymoon.  We ate a huge seafood meal at a brewery (Sea Dog brewery in Maine), and then played pool.  Mark is always a fantastic date.

Mark's nickname is "Big Perm."  (From the drug-dealer character in the movie Friday.)  I thought this was a joke until I hung out with his college pals - who still, to this day, refer to him as Perm. 

 Today is my last day of work at this *BLESSED* job!  Hooray!!!  I feel like a burden is slowly being lifted from my shoulders, one stone at a time.  (I do have to make it to five o'clock, after all.)  In honor of this glorious day, I am copy-catting one of my favorite blogs, Messing with Texas, and am posting 

FUN FACT FRIDAY! 

- Every time I fly on an airplane, I always order plain Bloody Mary mix as my beverage, sans alcohol.  I could drink spicy tomato juice every day. 

- Every single pair of sunglasses I use are random pairs that get left in our car.  Half the time, I look ridiculous because this collection of sunglasses covers a wide range of hideous styles.  Sometimes Mark gets free sunglasses from the company he orders his contact lens from, and I wear those.  Right now, I am using a pair of sunglasses that one of my teenagers from my church back in Raleigh left in our car after a beach retreat.  They are slightly too small for my big head, and have rhinestones on the sides. 

- Right now, I am knitting something called a "soaker" for a baby shower gift.  It's sort of like a little knitted pair of underwear briefs, meant to cover a cloth diaper.  I think "soaker" is a disgusting name for this handmade gift, but I guess it makes sense.  

- Over the course of the next month, while I am not working, we are traveling to Asheville, Virginia, and Folly Beach.  

- Our cat Clair meets me at the door nearly every day when I come home from work, like a puppy.  She also follows me around from room to room, and comes when I call her.  

- I am currently reading The Brothers K - because my friends Melissa, Amy, and Brooke all read it awhile ago and said it was good.  Thinking of these women reminds me that baseball season is underway, and I miss going to the Durham Bulls games with them over the summer.  I bought this book in a used bookstrore for a quarter. 

- Next Wednesday is my wedding anniversary.  We are not planning on getting each other gifts, but will eat and drink quite well.  At the end of the day, that's all I really want. 

- I do not blowdry my hair in the morning except on Sundays.  I also rarely wear makeup, except lipstick and moisturizer.  I have a hard time with mascara.  But I do enjoy wearing makeup - just hate going to the trouble. 

- I am a kickass pool player.  I once beat our friend Justin and his brother when we were visiting him in Boston.  The game was won after I ran the entire table.  

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about animals.  We happen to live in a town that has a very close-knit and big horse community, which is all very new to me.  I've lived in college towns, and government towns, and even sleepy little mountain towns - but never a "horse town."  I would guess that about 85% of the members of our church are either horse owners, farm owners, horse trainers, or riders.  It's incredible.  



(Photo is from this year's Steeplechase, here in Tryon.  SUCH a good time.) 

When you have so many people in your community whose lives revolve around the care and love for animals, it's impossible not to think about different concepts of God's kingdom.  It's hard for me not to have a lump in my throat as I watch these beautiful creatures race around a racetrack, doing, as Michael says, what they were born to do and truly pleasing God.  And it's hard to separate theology from the facts of life when an animal you dearly love dies.  I was especially reminded of these questions over the weekend - we attended a Kentucky Derby party at a friend's house, and witnessed the euthanizing of Eight Belles, the 3-year old filly who broke both of her front legs in the last few yards of the race.  It cast a dark shadow over the whole event for me. 



I think it can be too quickly assumed that an equestrian community revolves around lots of wealthy people with rolling acres of farms, who throw parties with lots of mint juleps.  Which it does, to an extent - but after getting to know these people a little bit, I don't think there was any horse owner in Polk County who didn't feel the pain of the owners and jockey of Eight Belles.  It begs the question - what place do animals have in the kingdom of God?  How do we find the language to talk about the whole creation, not just Christians? 

And, on a slightly different line of thinking, I ponder about the pastoral role of theology.  I fully expect that in my upcoming new role as a hospital chaplain, I will be working with people who are facing immediate and devastating loss, and I'll struggle to find the right words that speak real, lasting truth to them.  Whether you're at the bedside of a person you love, or crouched over a dying animal on a racetrack: how do you speak the Gospel without denying the bereaved their pain?  Probably the most condescending and useless thing that was told to me in a time of crisis was, "Don't worry, you're going to heaven in the end.  How you feel right now doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things."  I want to be able to speak to people in a way that allows their feelings the right to cry and scream against God and the world, and still acknowledge the hope in the Incarnation. 

In light of the loss of an animal that is very dear to me (and the very real pain of people who are dear to me), we are planning to go to Virginia to do a committal/remembrance for Caleb.  Our rector lent us a copy of the book Animal Rites for this occasion.  I'm considering getting a copy - I don't think this will be the last blessing of an animal, graveside, that I'll ever have to lead. 

 Last Friday, the day after my crazy experience at work, Mark and I went to a wine tasting downtown - a really lovely little affair that a friend at church offered us free tickets for.  We tasted three chardonnays, and three cabernets, from Chile, France, and California, respectively.  Wonderful food and tasty, tasty wine.  

On our way home, we got a call from our friend Tasi, who wanted us to know that their dog, Caleb, was hit by a car and killed just hours earlier.  Mark and I were both so stunned.  It was a total, complete shock - as though one of our own family members had died.  In a way, Caleb really was a part of our family. 

Caleb was a beautiful, sleek black lab, growing out of his puppy stage into a gangly and happy teenager.  He went with us to pubs in Raleigh when Tasi and Kristen came to visit, on walks when we visited their parsonage, and, just recently, on our trip to the beach together.  Caleb had the sweetest temperament, and was very well trained - Tasi taught him commands both in English and in Hebrew, heh.  His ears were soft like velvet, and when we were all sitting at the dining table, Caleb would sit next to me and put his head in my lap so that I would rub his ears.  

Oh, I miss this dog.  He was wonderful and I just loved him.  Mark and I would joke that we'd take a trip up to Virginia just to visit Caleb, and visit Tasi and Kristen if we had time.  

The death of a dog feels so devastating.  They are happy and content with so little - just a good meal and a snuggle on the couch and maybe some running around outside.  My favorite moment at the beach was when Mark was still sleeping early in morning, I let Caleb in the room and he leapt up on the bed, giving Mark a full face of sloppy doggy kisses.  Quite the wake-up call, especially for one so grumpy and spacey in the morning as Mark. 

When my childhood family dog, Dorothy, passed away two years ago, I remember crying on the phone with Erin from our apartment in Raleigh.  At the Compline service in Chapel Hill later that night, I remember stopping singing halfway through the service because I was crying too much.  Only the director, Van, and Mark saw it.  After the service was over, Van gave me a big hug even though he had no idea what had happened.  

When I've participated in a Compline service since then, there is a lump in my throat when we come to the chanting of Psalm 91.  I always think of Dorothy, and now, Caleb. 

Psalm 91 
He who dwells in the shelter of the most high 
Abides under the shadow of the Almighty. 
Who will say to the Lord, my refuge and my fortress,
My God in whom I put my trust. 
For he will deliver you from the snare of the hunter, 
And from the deadly pestilence. 
He will cover you with his pinions, 
And you will find refuge under his wings. 
His faithfulness will be a shield and buckler. 
You shall not be afraid of any terror by night, 
Nor of the arrow that flies by day.  
Because you have made the Lord your refuge, 
the most High your habitation, 
No evil shall befall you, no scourge come near your tent. 
For he will give his angels charge over you,
To keep you in all your ways.  

When I was in college, I had a terrible, terrible roommate.  She was unkind and sneaky, manipulative and backstabbing.  She was a much worse variety of roommate than a lazy slob or a loud partyer.  She was particularly awful because I had become good friends with her.  This roommate had the tendency to be a bit dramatic; she believed that the world was out to get her, and sometimes she would blame me for her problems - by way of angry and hostile outbursts.  And being the meek and innocent freshman that I was, I let her do it - I was supportive and faithful and constantly apologized for whatever I'd done.  She also did this while she was trashing my reputation behind my back.  

I finally decided that enough was enough, and told her that I was moving out.  I don't know where I found the courage to tell her I was leaving.  She freaked out, and started screaming at me about how I was a terrible person and an even worse friend.  She told everyone that she hated me, and that I was leaving her in a lurch with no roommate and a lease to sign for the following fall.  

When all this crap went down, we still had three weeks left in the semester, including exam time.  I remember sitting at the window of our dorm room one day when she was in class, looking out and praying to God asking for the grace and the strength to just get me through the next three weeks.  

Today, I'm flashing back to that year.  Today, I have three weeks left at my current job.  

I haven't made it any secret that I happen to hate my job right now.  Actually, no wait - I hate working for my boss.  The job itself is not bad, and I feel like there are good things happening because of this organization in our community.  But I am very ready to leave - especially after what happened last week.  

On Thursday, I was screamed at by my boss.  Like I was a four-year-old.  He did so because I hesitated in making a phone call for him, because I didn't think it was necessary to call someone for the fourth time.  He freaked out.  He told me that I've done a terrible job here, that he would be ready to fire me if I wasn't already leaving, that I'm insolent and have an attitude problem.... it went on and on.  I kept talking to him in my best, calm and pastoral "I think you're crazy" voice, trying to get him to stop yelling.  It was painful, and yet, I know in my heart that a lot of what he said isn't true, that he has some kind of anger/leadership/life problem and doesn't understand the importance of being kind and working well with your employees.  It was the most unprofessional display of emotions and handling of conflict that I've ever seen, and I don't respect this man on any level. 

This isn't the first time my boss has done this when we've had a conflict, and now I'm faced with the dilemma of taking my story to the president of our organization (who is a good guy, but he is also buddies with my boss).  I feel like I need to speak up before I leave and make sure that someone else knows about this problem.  I don't want future employees to suffer because I remained silent.  

My problem is this: I might be chickening out.  I don't want another angry confrontation.  I don't want to be blamed and presented with another long list of the ways I've been a bad employee and a terrible human being.  I just want to be able to quit my job simply and leave this all behind.  I don't want to deal with this anymore.  But some of you **cough*Melissa*cough*ahem** are encouraging me to take it back to the president and get everything out in the open.  I wish I had the strength, but right now, my heart's just feeling kinda weak and wounded.  

Oh Lord, please, just get me through these next three weeks.  

We had a wonderful time away and returned with minimal sunburn, a relaxed demeanor and a substantially smaller store of liquor.  Spent lots of time walking the dog on the beach, reading, laughing, watching lots of mindless TV, eating, drinking, grilling, Ahhh.  I want to go back. 



I've been taking a break from blogging for awhile - thinking a lot about things coming up.  Since returning from the beach, two major things have happened: 

1. I told my boss that I'm quitting!!!!  I cannot WAIT to leave my job.  It feels absolutely wretched that I've spent the last nine months trying to build a future in non-profit work in my community, only to realize that my current employer has no intention of ever improving working conditions here.  There is something just so, so - filthy - about an organization dedicated to erradicating poverty that uses employees like Kleenex and is guided more by good-ol-boy priniciples than healthy standards of professional work relationships.  I cannot WAIT to leave. 

2.  I am (finally) joining the Episcopal church!  On May 1st, I'll be "received" into the Episcopal church as a member.  This is different from confirmation, since I already went through confirmation as a Methodist in my teens.  It feels great to know that I am supported in this decision by my friends and family in all sorts of Christian denominations.  I've had several productive conversations with my new bishop, and we're currently discussing possibilities for ordination in the next couple of years.  I haven't yet decided on anything - I'm waiting to get through the intense experience of CPE first.  But I'm definitely leaning in the way of priesthood these days.  More on this later. 

Beachbeachbeach.... I want more long thoughtful conversations with friends.  I want more laughing over beers and playing pool.  I want mindless episodes of Law and Order.  I want books to read by the pool in my swimsuit.  I want cold gin and tonics and garlicky parmesan dip on my fingers and Caleb licking my foot in the morning as I stumble around making coffee. 

 We're off to my favorite place in the whole world - DeBordieu.  I lovelovelove my family's beach house.  My blood pressure drops about ten points immediately after arriving.  

Fun pictures to come soon! 

I can't remember any really good April Fool's Day pranks from years past.... but this is my favorite prank story from growing up with my sisters: 


Birthdays were never a huge deal in our household growing up, but we started an unspoken and undiscussed tradition that went on for several years while we were all living at home.  My sisters and I, as a commemorative element to each of our birthday celebrations, would sneak into the birthday girl's room when she wasn't there and TOILET PAPER THE ENTIRE ROOM.  It was a really satisfying way to spend twenty minutes, and even more satisfying when the birthday girl would come home and open her door and shriek at the sight of all the beautiful white gloriousness.  Sometimes, if we had more time to spare, we would add another fun prank along with it, like placing a bucket of water above the door, or short-sheeting the bed.   


Anyone got a great April Fool's story?  Family, help me remember - I know there's got to be some legendary years that I'm forgetting here...

Story #1:
My husband is the organist for the church next door.  He is very good at what he does, and he's been doing this sort of work longer than I've known him - so he's accustomed to the absolute sheer insanity of Holy Week and Easter.  We kinda hunker down and ride out the storm of evening rehearsals, multiple services, and continual running around.  In years past, we've topped it all off with a big afternoon Easter dinner with lots of friends and great food and drankin and carryin on.  Talk about exhausting.  But also exciting and fun. 

Saturday night was the Easter Vigil, a service I have really, really come to love.  Back in Durham, the Vigil was done at 10pm, so by the time you finish up, you really do ring in Easter at the stroke of midnight.  So.  Cool.  Here at Holy Cross, the Vigil was done at 6pm.  Regardless of when the service takes place, it's a lot of organizing and music and details and what-have-yous.  We were totally wiped once everything finished up.  

And we had to get up extra early the next morning for two services on Easter Sunday.  So we dutifully tottered off to bed, setting the alarm for six thirty.  

About three o'clock, I woke up and could not get back to sleep.  I tossed and turned, I poked at Mark a little, I petted the cat.  No dice... I COULD NOT SLEEP.  Every once in awhile this happens to me, when I'm stressed out or whatever... Eventually, I fall back asleep around five o'clock.  The alarm goes off at six thirty and I reach over and turn it off.  I laid there for a second (I THOUGHT) with my eyes closed, and then rolled over and start poking at Mark to get him up.  

"Sweetie," I say nicely.  "Time to wake up." 
"Hrrmmphh."  He says.  "It's time to get up?  I didn't hear the alarm."  
"Yeah, I turned it off.  But it's time to wake up."  
Quick glance back at the clock.  
Then double check.  
OHMYGOD IT'SSEVENTHIRTY  SHITSHITSHIT WEOVERSLEPT!!!!!!!!!! That second that I laid there with my eyes closed?  Yeah.  Oh yeah.  I went back to sleep for ANOTHER HOUR.  

The choir rehearsal starts in ten minutes, the service starts in forty.  TEN MINUTES.  ohholycrap. Mark leaps out of bed, wets his head (it doesn't help - still has bedhead), throws on some clothes, as I prance around him saying "sorry!!" over and over again, and he races out the door.  Luckily, our back door is within about six steps to the door of the church - no lie.  So it was okay and we made it just fine, but Mark was pretty crazed for an already crazy day.  It took him a little while to get his fingers to start to work on the keyboard. 

It was so, so scary.  I think oversleeping on a really important day is right up there with my fear of showing up somewhere in public and forgetting to put on pants.  Or accidentally cursing from the pulpit.  Imagine (shudder) if we'd slept another hour longer - and missed the service.  Ohmylord.  I am having heart palpitations all over again.  

Story #2: 
Mark and I were chatting this morning while waiting for Craig to pick me up.  We were trading stories about a person that we've about decided is a few fries short of a Happy Meal.  She goes to our church and she also happens to work in our town's public services office.  Let's call her Jane.  

Jane is so incredibly ditzy and nutty.  And she's in charge of something that's kinda important, namely, the bill that is mailed to our household for town taxes.  So since we've moved within town, we just had our bills transferred to our new address, with no overlap.  It should have been a really smooth transition.  

A couple of days ago we are mailed, not one, but TWO bills.  Each for about $60-$70.  One is for a month that we weren't even occupants at this address.  Two different account numbers.  And the names on the bills? 
#1: Mark ourlastname. 
#2: Mary ourlastname. 

HAHAHAHA.  Remember that episode of Friends, when Joey, as a prank, sent all these magazine subscriptions to Chandler under the name, "Mrs. Chanandler Bong"?  

Mark said, as I was leaving the house this morning,

"I think I've about decided that Jane is my nemesis."  

Is it really almost spring?  

Trees and shrubs are blossoming once again in Tryon, and we are loving the cool weather.  Last night, for St. Patrick's Day, Mark and I took a little walk down the hill into town for a pint.  We ended up lingering on the sidewalk with some friends, never going into the bar (too noisy, crowded, and smoky) (CRAP, I am old.) but the night was nice and chilly.  I like that spring here still has a nip in the air, as opposed to my hometown's immediate seasonal switch from barely cold to meltingly hot and humid.  

I look forward to Holy Week every year, and that feeling of anticipation began with my time as a student.  When Mark was a chapel intern, I was roped into "helping" with any number of special services throughout Holy Week, from moving chairs in the sanctuary for the labryrinth, to the Stations of the Cross out in the rain, to singing in the choir for the Easter Vigil at midnight on Saturday.  It was an exhausting, overwhelming experience.  

But I loved every minute - because beyond the hoop-la of everyday church programming, Holy Week was something I learned should be taken very seriously, both liturgically and personally.  It is a time when the drama of the Christian story actually means something real to me.  The glorious brightness of Easter could not be fully appreciated without the darkness and the somber mood of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.  The feasting we did on Easter morning of roast lamb and champagne punch wouldn't be nearly as blessed without the fasting and the refraining we did days earlier.  And the rest and peace to come once that last service is finished on Easter morning is so, so sweet, after a week of working hard and staying up all night getting things done. 

While I haven't taken Lent as seriously this year as I have in previous years, I'm grateful for some extra time as this season draws to a close to think and reflect.  I pray the same for you. 

I just returned yesterday from a youth conference for our diocese, with a few teens from our youth group at HC.  It was a good weekend, and I definitely enjoyed the chance to get to know our kids a little better.  I just love this youth group and can't wait to hang out with them again. 

But the conference itself was interesting... I wasn't sure how to take a lot of what was going on.  Maybe it's just been too long since I've spent a good amount of time with youth.  The whole, "I'm at camp, I can act crazy" thing was definitely something to adjust to.  It made me feel really old.  And not in a good way. 

I found that I was complaining a lot about the organization of the retreat, and comparing it to our previous diocese's handling of the youth conferences (which were always awesome, weekends where even I would leave feeling refreshed).  Everything here seemed really disorganized and crazy, but it all turned out all right - nothing was really lost or forgotten.  It just seemed to teeter on the brink of total mayhem. 

The one thing I'd like reflect on is the speaker of the conference.  The theme of the weekend was the Hollywood-ization of the Christian faith, and the ways in which the movies glorify things like love, heroism, truth, and even villains and evil.  The youth were supposed to reflect upon how their faith is shaped and changed by these images, for better or worse.  So the conference leaders enlisted the help of a representative from that community, a speaker who was from that Hollywood community and could reflect with the youth about their faith and life direction. 

The speaker was a woman who is an actress, mostly in television, and has done some work in spiritual direction.  (A dangerous combination!)  I had never heard of her before this weekend, but she's apparently done some mini-series on several cable channels and hosting of shows, as well as a few guest appearances on more well-known shows.  Since I'm going to criticize her, I'll call her Jane.  Jane came in on Saturday morning and talked with the kids in the morning, and then had an afternoon session too.  She talked with them about experiences she's had in her life of being "lucky" verses ones she would call "unlucky."  She described getting her dream job as a television show host, travelling the world and making a ton of money.  And then Jane's show was cancelled, her apartment caught on fire and burned down, a friend of hers died, and her boyfriend broke up with her.  

This would have been a great story to describe the challenges of the Christian life, the ways we grieve what we've lost, and how we find hope in Christ's Resurrection.  Did she do that?  NOOOO.  

Instead, Jane launched into a motivational speech about creating "luck" in your life and designing the perfect life for yourself with all things in it that you want.  Instead of allowing the youth to imagine what those goals might be, she listed them for us: a lot of money, a nice car, a dream job, popularity, success.  It was all about visualizing it, and making it happen.  And she made sure to let the kids know that all those things were attainable, and what's more - God actually wants you to be successful and rich.  It was something akin to the disgusting rhetoric that comes from leaders/writers like Joel Osteen and Bruce Wilkinson.  

Oh, and then the afternoon session was just an hour-long viewing of one of her TV shows.  An episode that had nothing to do with faith, God, or even luck.  I just about barfed right there.  

Jane's focus on material wealth and personal glory is exactly everything I've ever tried to fight or preach against in my time as a youth minister and as a Christian.  Values like these are the source of misplaced priorities in our young people.  We aren't teaching our children how to love their neighbor, forgive their enemy, or, most importantly, think of someone else besides themselves with crap like this funneled into their ears.  We're just reinforcing what the world is already teaching them - that no matter what, their happiness and success comes first, before anyone else's.  That they shouldn't worry about caring for the poor, the stranger, or the oppressed - only themselves.  

Ugh.  It makes me even more furious that she gave it God's stamp of approval, essentially saying that Jesus actually cares about your personal success in dollar value.  My only hope is that the youth will forget it all in a few weeks.  But I'm not counting on it.  

(Side note: this post appears to start high and end low - but it really was a good weekend.  Other than Jane.  Mark and I hung out with the HC youth, taught them how to play poker, and met some really great Episocpal clergy/youth leaders from our area.  Maybe we'll make some friends after all.) 

We did it and I am exhausted.  Moving is always a boring chore to write about, but we are indebted to our friends from the choir and the youth group, and my awesome dad and his Tacoma for their hours of hard work.  Everyone managed to keep their good spirits, even though it was a very long day and we were even threatened by some rainclouds at one point.  Mark and I are now the semi-happy (complaints about the old plumbing to follow) residents of the Holy Cross rectory.  Four bedrooms and four bathrooms, and a bigger dining room than I have ever had the grace to occupy.  We're considering putting in a bowling alley.  

Clair is refusing to leave the bedroom the majority of the day.  She's scared to death of the basement. 

Pictures to come, once I can find the camera underneath all these crushed boxes and sheets of bubble wrap. 

Last night, Mark and I took a break from packing and watched the movie The Waitress.  
(This did not break my Lenten fast of t.v. watching - movies don't count.)  

It was an interesting movie, with a little bit of a disappointing ending, but I liked it.  The story is about a woman who works as a waitress in a diner, who is living in a loveless marriage to a controlling and insecure husband.  While the movie is mostly about her personal journey to understanding herself and claiming her own happiness, she also struggles with the discovery that she's pregnant with her husband's child, and feeling completely trapped in a life she doesn't want to lead anymore.  

The best thing about the movie is that everytime she's facing some difficult situation - her husband yelling at her, being tempted to have an affair with her doctor, thinking about the baby she's unprepared to love - she dreams up a new recipie for a pie.  She makes all the pies in the diner where she works, and invents a new variety each day.  There's the pie she makes when first finds out she's pregnant - bloated souffle of eggs, Brie, and smoked ham - and the pie she makes when she thinks about hating her husband - bitter chocolate drowned in caramel.  All the flavors are indicative of her situation - with appropriate names.  My favorite one was when she was flirting with her doctor and made him a "Naughty Pumpkin pie." 

So it got me thinking about pie recipies for life... what kind of pies would I be making right now... 

"Pack-up-your-entire-life in boxes" pie: a messy cobbler of chocolate and nuts underneath a thick layer of crust, taped together and baked in parchment paper

"I hate my job" pie: sour cherries and blackberries in a thin, flaky crust, easily broken apart with a fork. 

"Waiting on Easter" pie: warm potatoes, carrots and farmer's cheese in a simple crust with fragrant rosemary. 

I'm getting all hungry.  What sort of "life pie" are you making right now?