Archives for April 2007

Fashion Victim

A few weeks ago I realized that I needed something to wear to a dinner at a friend’s house. And there was no doubt that it was going to be The Best Dinner Party Evir because it was a girls-only event.

In other words: NO BOYZ WER ALLOWED BECUZ BOYZ HAVE COOTIES and because they do not enjoy talking about shoes, make-up, or Sarah Jessica Parker’s hair, all of which are Guaranteed Hot Topics wherever two or more females are gathered. Them’s the rules.

Anyway, when I started trying to find something to wear and realized that my closet was sorely lacking, I went to the Steinmarts and brought home a few shirts to try. In my head, I wanted to find something that looked sort of like this:

Except, of course, I would never – NEVER – belt something um, there, because I’ve got a whole lot more going on above and below the belt than the model does.

Plus, you know, I’M TWO OF HER.


I decided that I would try on the shirts and let D. tell me which one he liked best BECAUSE I AM STUPID, THAT’S WHY and the first shirt I put on looked similar to this next one:

D.’s reaction was something along the lines of “That shirt? Really? Are you sure?”         

So it was immediately out of the running.

The next shirt was my favorite, and it resembled the picture below – sort of a Japanese-style print, with a black fabric band instead of some pesky skinny belt. Granted, the neckline begged for a camisole underneath, but I could live with that. I also loved how it looked with some pants I’d bought, and I was feeling pretty sassy when I walked in the living room to show it to D.

D.: “Do you like it? Because if you like it, that’s all that matters.”         

Me: “I really do like it. But you don’t?”

D. “Well. It’s, um, interesting. But if you like it you should absolutely get it!”

Me: “But you don’t like it?”

D. “I’m not sure I understand it.”

Me: “Well, if you didn’t know me and you saw me wearing this shirt, what would you think?”


D. “I would probably think that you were wearing a uniform from some sort of Asian Hooters.”

So that one was out. I’m pretty quirky clothes-wise, but there are several looks I try to avoid, and I would venture to say that “Hooters uniform” is fairly near the top of that list.

In the end, I settled on a shirt that resembles this one:

The one I bought is black and white instead of multi-colored…but it’s very flow-y and spring-y and billow-y and comfortable-y as can be.

Perhaps because it does not touch my body at any point other than the shoulders.

But the best part of all? You would never see me wearing it and suspect that I had on a Hooters uniform. From Asia or any other continent, for that matter.

So that’s a bit of a fashion victory, isn’t it?

We just won’t talk about the fact that you might see me wearing the cute, flowy shirt and wonder whether or not I was pregnant.

Which, really, is what every girl dreams of when she’s buying new clothes.

Prayer For Heather

Kelli has details about how we can pray for Heather’s surgery here.

Thought y’all might like to know.

Click To Claim Your Fabulous Prizes

As most of you know, Chris at Notes from the Trenches was so moved by your outpouring of love for Heather that she decided to round up some donations and give away prizes to the people who contributed to the love offering.

And as a result of Chris’ efforts, we have us some winners, ladies and gentlemen. Be sure to click over to see if you’re one of the lucky ones – and to thank all the people who gave of their talents so selflessly.

Which reminds me.

A couple of days ago I talked to Heather for the first time since she’s been at Mayo. She mentioned over and over again how very appreciative and humbled her family is because of everything y’all have done (almost EIGHTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, y’all – that’s Ephesians 3:20 in action).

Because you have been so unbelievably generous, Heather’s parents and Emma Grace will be able to be with them this week. Because you have been so unbelievably generous, her husband will be able to stay with her for the duration of her time at Mayo. Because you have been so unbelievably generous, they will be able to live without financial worry while they’re in Minnesota for the next four or five weeks – they can focus on what really matters, which is, of course, Heather’s health.

That’s huge, y’all.

So thank you to everybody again – to Jada for setting the For Heather thing in motion, to Beth for organizing the giveway for people who helped to get the word out about what we were trying to do, to Chris for putting together this latest raffle, and to every single one of you who have prayed or donated or encouraged. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: y’all really are the best internets ever, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Finally, Heather’s surgery is this Thursday – the National Day of Prayer, no less. Kelli’s going to be organizing a prayer chain at her blog, and once I have more details – in the next day or so – I’ll pass along the info.

Hope y’all have a wonderful week!

It’ll Take A Few Days To Process It All

We are in Mississippi, here to celebrate Sissie’s 97th birthday.

Say it with me, slowly: NINETY SEVEN YEARS YOUNG.


D., Alex and I drove over here today, but we didn’t get on the road until around 10:30 because we had a meeting at home this morning. The plan was that D. would drop Alex and me off at Martha’s house, then go out to the nursing home and pick up Sissie for her birthday lunch.

Well, when he got to the nursing home a little after 1:00, Sissie was none too pleased. She had parked her wheelchair by the front door BECAUSE SHE WAS READY TO GO, and when D. walked in, she said, “WELL, I’VE JUST BEEN SITTING HERE, WAITING FOR YOU.”

So D. tried to smooth everything over by explaining that it wasn’t too far past 1, that we were running a little late, and before he could finish his sentence Sissie sighed, rolled her eyes, and said, “IT’S ONE-OH-NINE!”

Obviously, she has really mellowed with age.

Once D. and Sissie arrived at the house, we all sat down to enjoy the lunch that Martha had prepared: baked chicken, meatloaf, creamed potatoes, potato casserole (if one kind of potatoes is good, then two is certainly better), apricot salad, butterbeans, English peas, rolls, birthday cake, caramel cake, strawberry cake and sweet tea.

So basically, you know, sugar and meat.

After we ate lunch and opened presents and RECOVERED FROM THE SUGAR COMA, Martha couldn’t wait to show me a skirt she bought yesterday. And she got so excited when she pulled the skirt out of her closet that she also pulled out the jacket! that she plans to wear! with the skirt! to church tomorrow! because you know the sanctuary just gets cold! it gets so cold! and hold on! look at the shirt that goes underneath the jacket!

And then she draped it all across the foot of the bed as if the bedspread were a mannequin, and she gazed upon her new outfit with love, and she was proud.

I thought for a moment that she was going to embrace me out of sheer happiness in the midst of the tender fashion moment that we’d shared.

But then her friend Mary Ann rang the doorbell and the moment was over because Martha really needed to explain to Mary Ann that even though she didn’t make it to Miss Veda’s funeral this morning, she did make it to visitation at the funeral home last night, because really, between Sissie’s birthday and the children coming for lunch and trying to set the table and baking the caramel cake and having to run to the Walmarts and looking for flowers for the beds in the back of the house because she really wants purple and gold flowers, but do you know how hard that is because they just don’t have ANYTHING in those colors right now, not anything, and the yard man told her that the ferns back there were dead, so she had him rip them out and throw them away, but then she heard that the ferns probably would have come back, but there’s just nothing she can do! nothing she can do! they’re gone! so there was just no way that she could have made it to the funeral, but she did go to the visitation, she did.

Also, this is completely unrelated, but Martha and Sissie don’t eat pizza because they say it tastes like perfume.

And I just wanted you to know that.

This Is A Public Service Announcement

Attention, Men of The World:

Want to woo your wife?

This is how you do it, my friends.

And consider yourselves warned, ladies: you will go weak in the knees.

And you will swoon.

And you will want to write something beautiful for someone you love.

I just had to share.

The Fine Art Of Marital Compromise

A couple of weeks ago, Alex and I went to Mississippi for the weekend. D. was planning to go with us, but several days before we left he sent me an email with the following subject line: “WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME ABOUT THIS?” And the email changed everything.

(sidenote: I am, by nature, a bit of a worrier. I know. I know: Worry is not of God. Fear is the opposite of faith. I know. Been there, done the Bible study, got the bookmark. But even still, learning not to FREAK OUT OVER NOTHING is a day-by-day process. And this is why, when I saw the ALL CAPS subject line, I immediately wondered if I had unintentionally withheld Critical Knowledge from my husband. I have this kind of reaction all the time; for example, if you were to walk up to me and say, “Do you know what I heard?” my first (internal) reaction would be to think that SOMETHING HORRIBLE HAS HAPPENED, even if all you wanted to tell me is that diet Coke 12-packs are on sale 4 for $10 at Walmart, and if that’s the case then LET’S GET GOING, PEOPLE, BECAUSE WE HAVE SOME SHOPPING TO DO.)

As it turned out, what no one had told my husband was that there was an Apple Store opening in our town that same weekend. Approximately five minutes from our house. And somehow we missed the announcement that it was happening, despite the fact that D. has a love for All Things Apple that transcends any rational human behavior, despite the fact that he listens to podcast after podcast about the latest Mac developments, the evaluations of said developments and the criticisms of said evaluations. He refers to Steve Jobs as either “Steve” or “Jobs” – as if they are friends who occasionally play racquetball together – and when Steve Jobs gives a keynote speech to announce new products, my sweet husband watches it live on the computer.

So given all of that, an Apple Store opening near our house was basically equivalent to what it would be like for me if there were a fancy new SuperTarget in our area that, in addition to having a Starbucks (as ours does), also contained a TJ Maxx, a Steinmart, a Popeye’s fried chicken, and a large on-site gospel choir that sang nothing but old hymns all day every day. Oh, and if Chris Tomlin and Watermark filled in for the gospel choir when they needed a break. And then if Christy Nockels wanted to drink Starbucks and shop with me afterwards.

Which is a very roundabout way of saying that D. did not join us on our trip to Mississippi. And while we definitely missed his company, I could not deprive him of the opportunity to be at the Grand Opening of the Apple Store, just as he would never deprive me of the chance to drink coffee and shop with Christy Nockels, because THESE THINGS ARE IMPORTANT TO US.

We’re in it for the long haul, y’all.

In sickness, in health. For better, for worse. And in the event of once-in-a-lifetime grand opening celebrations.