Crazy...

So, I set up this blog with the initial plan to never be too political, or too radical, or too outspoken.  So I blow it all on one post, and end up with 100 different hits on it.  That's some crazy stuff dude.  But I'm not letting my head get to big about it.  Only 3 of the people who read it made any kind of comment, so I'm assuming 97 people found it accidentally.  And that it's really just the same old same old... But comments are nice, just, by the way.

Today is a lovely Sunday, if you're sitting by a giant window looking outside, like I am, in the comfort of artificially cooled air.  Because it's hot outside.  Like Satan's ballsac hot.  (It's the lest warm of his extremities, so i'm not being too overly dramatic.)

This afternoon, I whipped up some tart cherry scones.  I'm sure they are delicious.  I haven't eaten one yet, but they smell fantastic.  I didn't make it from scratch, because it's hot.  And i'm enjoying the look of the wind in the trees.  Even if it's like nuclear blast wave hot (not for the faint of heart, btw), in temperature.  So I purchased sticky fingers brand.  And it smells perfect.

Also cooling?  a pink lemonade cake.  Which I will use to make cake bites.  In fact... it should have cooled sufficiently to begin.   I shall return, "'tis but the work of a moment."

Wow.  Well, first of all, the cherry scones are delicious smelling.  The cherries inside are good, but the scone is rather like... a flavorless biscuit.  I know, I know, it's a scone, but I figured the cherrishness would run through it.  I figured wrong.

I also figured wrong when it came to the cake bites.  Cake bites.  I read all about these in one of the books from the "hello, cupcakes" people.  They are little cut outs from jelly roll cakes, dipped in warmed over frosting.  If you warm store frosting just a little to a creamy dipping texture, it dries really pretty, they said.  They put these little cake bites on forks, so you can just eat a bite and move on.  I thought "I can do that, like petits fours."  So I got stuff to make it. 

Here is a picture of one of the "emotipops" from "cupcakes, cookies, and pies, oh my!"

https://twitter.com/#!/whatsnewcupcake/status/167667586287419392/photo/1

Here are the only four surviving cake bites I managed to walk away with:

First of all, dipping a piece of cake you've cut is effing hard.  Second of all, my super smart idea to use appetizer forks?  It was a super STUPID idea.  Also, yeah, it was just Epic Fail.  Here's the ones that didn't fall onto the floor or counter whilst dipping:

 I threw that shit into a pile and was like "Soup's on, Mother Fucker."

And I left it for family to eat it.





These are the scones, by the way.

in other news, I feel like I've sung the word "Forever" until it's lost all meaning.  That is all.

-robyn

Save on Gas

So a friend told me to post this.

To save up to a dollar a gallon on gas, you can spend up to 1000 dollars at Kroger in a month.

OR - buy gift cards.  I'm a Starbucks whore, seriously, i drink the tea all the time.  so, I buy Starbucks gift cards at Kroger.  For a 25 buck card, I get 50 points.  EXCEPT, until April 10, when i get 4x points.  so for that same gift card, I get 100 points.  And, since we have a Thursday dinner date with the fam... We buy 25 and 50 buck cards and get 100-200 points a time. 

And the discount is 10 cents for every 100 points.

On a normal day, you can get 2x points.

But, if you watch... they do 10x points.  And when you get that, grab that schtuff up. 

Buy gift cards for food, drinks, clothes (old navy, macy's jc pennys, target) home improvements (Loews, Home Depot) MOVIE TICKETS... Whatever you are planning on doing anyway, stop by Kroger on the way and purchase in advance.  You might as well use the system while you can. 

That is all. :o)

(I think Randall's has a similar system in Texas.)

Veggie Cake

I was at work less than an hour when a shoe flew at me.  A shoe.  "WHO THROWS A SHOE?"

I have already reached my days limits on tantrums.  And it's barely after 1.  Less than 4 hours to go today, thank Heavens.

I don't want to leave lunch and go back to work today.  It's a Monday.

But on to my happy place.  Here is a veggie cupcake recipe I probably got from epicurious.com or allrecipes.com a while back.  Zucchini Chocolate with Chocolate chips.  I'd frost with a light vanilla buttercream.  Or, for fun, maybe a zesty orange.


Ingredients
 1-1/3 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons instant hot chocolate mix
1/3 cup butter
1/3 cup olive oil
1 cup and 3 tablespoons white sugar
1 EXTRA LARGE egg
1/3 cup sour milk
3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1-2/3 cups grated zucchini
 2/3 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 325 degrees 


cream together the butter, olive oil and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the sour milk and vanilla. Beat in the flour mixture, just until incorporated. Stir in the grated zucchini and chocolate chips. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake in the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the top of the cupcakes springs back when lightly pressed. Cool in pans over a wire rack for at least 10 minutes before removing from baking cups.

Why I go to Church

Today my pastor issued a sermon challenge.  This isn't uncommon, in fact, it's a bit of his trademark thing.  Every pastor has a thing, you know.  We went to one church where the pastor's thing was pounding the bible emphatically and yet another where the pastor's thing was to sit in a bar-height chair and talk to the congregation like we were all at his backyard barbeque.  As things go, the sermon challenge is less affected than some other things I've seen.  And it's nice, to have someone say "take what
I've talked about today and go apply it."   Maybe I miss homework...

I digress.  Our sermon today was... about a lot of things.  But in it, the pastor addressed a blog that's going around.  Mostly, he answered the points on the blog, gauging and assessing our position as a congregation.  If you're interested, you can get the sermon here.  If, in fact, you are at all interested in what kind of church a person like me attends, it's not a bad information packet about Celebration.

Anyway... Wow... Point already,  at the end, he asked us to list our reasons why we come to Church.  And encouraged us to post them on the church facebook.  I was cool with the challenge.  I've been trying to write a blog post for ages (I have about 15 unposted drafts, I just am not digging my voice lately).  I figured, this will be easy.  I'll go type up 20 reasons and be like "Bam, said the lady!"

But it wasn't easy.  It wasn't even something I could do.

I spent a lot of time thinking about it.  Reflecting.  I'm getting good at containing my personal dialogue inside my head.  I don't even move my lips anymore.  I spent time in the store, picking up beer for tonight's soiree. I thought while driving.  I thought while making lunch for the fam.  I did a lot of thinking.  And while I could just go through and personally refute each of Ms. Evans bullet points with my own personal experience, and be done, it wouldn't really be true.  Because it is for none of those reasons I would say I go to church.

The truth is there are more reasons for me not to go to church than to go to church.

I'm in a rocky relationship with God right now.  It's not him.  It's me.  but sometimes, the last thing in the world I feel like doing is getting up early on a Sunday and trekking my ass 20 miles across town to go to church for less than an hour.  The ironic thing is, some Sundays, when I'm backing up vocals in the Worship group, and I'm gonna be there for 3 hours, I feel even less inclined to go.  I'm tired.  I'm really tired right now, and there isn't anything physically restorative about going to church.  I don't even always feel like I had any kind of spiritual place was reached.  Because, right now, I'm feeling a bit spiritually castrated. 

Church is the place I've been most hurt by others.  People don't do it on purpose.  But sometimes, someone says or does something and it's like a lance.  The truth is, I believe, we're more apt to be emotionally wounded by church people, than by others because, those people are supposed to be held to a higher standard, right?  A God Standard?  The thing is, they are just people.  They don't get up in the morning and be like, "Today, I shall make Robyn feel like the most insignificant thing on this planet."  It just happens.   And I'm not saying it's happened at my current church.  I'm not saying it hasn't, but I'm 36 years old... Wait, I don't actually know how old I am, give me a second to get the calculator.  I'm 35 years old, and I've been in a lot of churches.  It's happened.  I'd hazard a guess that every single person in my current church is carrying an emotional scar from a former church (And it may be one reason I'm in _this_ church).

Also, the church isn't God.  I could go there every single day, and still never feel like I was closer to God.  What I do in those 4 walls doesn't define my life as a Christ-follower or a Devotee of God.  Church isn't the only place that God can see me.  God sees me in the shower.  It's a horrific thought, but true.  God sees me in my most inconsequential moments.  He doesn't just see me, he sees right through me.  And I could have a relationship with God without the Church or the church.  It isn't actually a requirement.

Even more so, Church in America is getting a pretty bad rap, and I don't really want to be associated with some of those people.  It's like an exercise in how many ways can I be outraged by people's comments supporting bigotry, hatred and oppression.  Sometimes I'm ashamed to admit I go to church at all, for fear I be lumped in with people like Rick Santorum.

So, why do I bother to go?  Why do I get up some Sundays at 6 am, so I can be there at 8?  Why do I drag my fat ass out of bed, bitching and complaining constantly about being roused from the rare snatches of blissful rest afforded in my hectic and overly scheduled life, to go someplace I don't always want to be?

Is it the people?  Sometimes.  But the truth is, I don't know over half the congregation, and that's pretty weird, since we have like 100 people.  But it's not weird.  Might surprise people here to know, but I'm not a very social butterfly.  I'm a very social caterpillar.  Inside a cocoon of a few people I've gotten to know, I'm comfortable.  I'd even have to honestly admit that even though I work in two of the ministry groups and I signed the Charter of the Church, I'm not even always comfortable calling myself a member.  Because I do not honestly know the majority of the people there.  That's a me thing, too.  I'm just not that girl who is all about casual conversation with people.  I'm weird.  I get to know people differently.  My best friend exists about 95% on the internet.   It's not not the people (ooo, double negative, what will Mandi say?)  Don't get me wrong.  The people are really great, kind, sweet, accepting, funny, genuine (buzz word) , reasonable, caring people.  I just wouldn't say I know them.  At the same time, the family of my heart does attend this church, and is why I came to this church, but that's not the reason I was all for going to a church.

It's not the denomination.  The good Lord knows, I will never be comfortable calling myself a Lutheran.  Although, I like a lot of what they say, and I'm solidly protestant, I've been to too many churches and have a scattered and conglomerated personal dogma.  I'm a Luthermethobapticostal.  It's the new super denomination.  We have kolaches.

Is it the sermon?  I dunno.  The pastor is genuine (there's that word again)  about his message.  I never feel condemned.  It's always pretty solid.  But sometimes, I don't pay attention.  It's not him, it's me.  Adult ADD does that to a person.  Sometimes, I look up and wonder why the hell we have strobe lights on the ceiling.  And then shuttle think all over the place, and come back when he's giving a benediction.  I've missed the sermon entirely and I'm like "oops, my bad."  So it can't possibly be the reason I go...

Is it that I said I would do things?  I teach Sunday school.  I back up vocals on the music team.  I committed to these things.  Not really.  I could honestly walk away from either at any moment, on account of being non-integral and part of a redundancy system.  Those things aren't the reason I go.  I do those things because I do go.

So why?  WHY would I go to church on Sundays?  Why would I go at all?  And why especially would I travel 20 miles one way to go to a church?  Who is that crazy?

Maybe that's the answer, come to think of it.  Maybe I am a little crazy.

Especially in this day and age, with an outright shameful public face of Christianity in America.  Maybe I'm insane to want to go to church.  Because, let's face it, the PR the church is getting lately, with the judging and the persecuting and the general embarrassing statements and behavior, sure don't make me proud to stand up and say "I'm a Christian!" 

I don't think that's it.  I don't think my slight crazy is why I go.

And I also, getting to my overall point (I meander.  It's what I do.), don't think I need 15 reasons.  I don't need 10, I don't even need five. 

I have hope.  I don't have the best relationship with God right now.  But I have hope, that I'm gonna heal and I'm gonna be able to be who he wants me to be.  I don't have great relationships with , or awesome connection to everything.  I am not whole and unwounded.  but I have hope that all of these things aren't what really matter.

I have faith that I'm doing the best I can with what I have.  I have faith that God doesn't care if I'm getting it all right all of the time, because he does see through me.  I have faith that I am supposed to be God's hands, and when I remember to empty myself of me, my faith can shine.

I have love.  Even if I'm not the best Christian in the world right now, even though I'm mired in sin and selfishness, I love God.  And Jesus, and Love is about the most important thing you can have.

God sent his son who preached a Radical Gospel of LOVE.  Christ tore the temple asunder, and rebuilt one, based on the tenets of love, faith and hope.

And I go to church because I want God to reach out through me.  By working in me, a little at a time, even, by my ritual of showing up, I'm saying "use me, Lord, to staunch the flow of Rapid Hope Loss in my world.  Starting with me and moving out, like ocean waves."   Because I can't say anything in a simple manner, that's just not how I'm wired.

That's why I go.  Three tiny little reasons.  Probably insignificant when viewed alone, but epically proportioned to be the only 3 reasons I need.


I'm not going to post this to my church's facebook.  Because, that would just be silly.  They would be like "Who the hell does she think she is?  He said 15 reasons, not 15 pages of semi-stream-of-conscience bs"  Or, you know, maybe they would be like "Oh, yeah, you know, maybe those are the only reasons I need."


either way, I'm gonna post this, before I chicken-shit out and send it to drafts with all my recent political postings on being a woman in today's society.  Maybe if more people focused on Hope and Love, being a woman in America wouldn't feel so craptastic.  Maybe if more people focused on Love, it would be easier to be a human.




I'll leave you with a mild political statement... I got it from Mandi's facebook.

I may have stuttered around a bit, But I'm pretty sure Jesus was clear.  My hope for Rachel Held Evans is she finds a group of people who are a bit more like Jesus than those she's known in church.  My hope for churches is that we all remember to be more like Jesus and less like us.




-robyn












www.Hypersmash.com

A Conservation of Speech

DISCLAIMER:  This post is actually about life, and Lent, and personal decisions.  If you're just here for the easy stuff, come back on Sunday.

I have been a slacker.  Sorry.  I'm gonna get right on this... tomorrow.

Just a check in.

I've been neglecting the blog.  Well, not really, I've been a little swamped by life.  On the upside, though, I have pretty awesome life news.

I got chicken pox when I was something like 9 months old.  I always figured I got the easy way out.  Not memories of itching and no scars.

Then, several years ago, the hibernating virus, decided to go guerrilla warfare on me, and I ended up with shingles.  I was, however, grateful for that diagnosis, because I was convinced I was dying of heart failure or breast cancer.

I got anti-viral meds and some steroid cream and pain pills, and was told, that's the end.  But it wasn't.  I ended up with a recurring kind of shingles.  I would have recurring break outs.  After a while, though, the rashes ended.  And all that was left was the pain.  I wish I could describe the pain for you, without being overly dramtic or descriptive as I am often accused of being, but it alternated between sometimes feeling like someone had set my arm on fire, to someone was repeatedly stabbing me, to me being convinced I was having a heart attack.  Sometimes, the pain radiated all the way down my left arm to my fingers.  There wasn't a morning I didn't wake up to some form of pain or a night I went to sleep without it.  Even when it wasn't piercing, it ached.  It hurt.  and aspiring, tylenol and ibuprofen only ever seemed to take an edge off.

I was becoming a monster because of my pain.  My temper was shortening, and it wasn't that tolerant to begin with.  Also, as a Kindergarten teacher, my days were becoming miserable.  The kids like hugs.  And hugging made me shudder in pain.  I was actually resigned to this being my life.  I was grateful for the days where it only hurt a little.  And I was thankful that my pain tolerance was reaching mush higher levels. 

I was afraid to talk about the pain, because I had seen enough TV to know that what I was talking about looked a lot like drug-seeking behavior.  I was sure that what I was feeling would be dismissed by health care professionals who would look at me like some kind of suburban junkie.

And it was with much trepidation that I sat in the Doctor's office the second week of January and, after dealing with a sinus infection, as if as an afterthought, brought up the pain.

In about 45 seconds, the nurse practitioner called it Post Herptic Nueralgia, and prescribed gabapentin.

Two mornings later, I woke up with no pain.  None.

And I even called the doctor's office to thank them for the solution to my problems.  My whole life has changed in just two weeks.

I'm not nearly as bitchy as I was, and I'm not putting my liver in danger with massive amounts of nsaids.

The side effects have been an overactive imagination and a tendency to babble more, especially online.  Also, I pinned some stuff but don't remember doing it.  They were funny things, though, so it's good to know that I am awesome even if I'm not fully aware of what I'm doing.


Anyway, I've spent the last two weeks actually enjoying life, not just pretending to enjoy life for the sake of a "Fake it till you make it" mentality.


Now, I've also been trying to finish some amigurimis I should have had finished two weeks ago, but kindergarteners are forgiving, and don't mind late birthday presents.  I'll post pictures soon.  I just didn't want this blog to be dead.  And I also figured I would document that 2012 already pretty much rocks compared to 2011, and 2010 for that matter.

Every once in a while, I get serious.

 Someone needs to hear this.  So I'll say it loudly, and publicly.

No matter where you are, or what you are doing, no matter how you feel or how often we talk, no matter what, YOU MATTER TO ME. You are important. Your life is important. And I'm here for you. Always.

There are so many people who battle a darkness or a doubt every single day.  And you might forget that you have allies.  The great fiction is that you are alone.

You are not alone.

I don't have the answers.  All I have to offer is my support, what strength I have, what comfort I am capable.  But it is yours.  All you have to do is take my hand.