My doctor in high school was Dr. Krippner, and he worked for the German embassy. His son was in my grade - his son Jochen, who I was secretly in love with in 6th or 7th grade. With Dr. Krippner, I had very awkard appointments on Thursdays. He was a very good doctor, but that didn't change that I was a teenager in my underwear in front of my classmate's dad. My nerves showed whenever he asked me to walk a straight line across the tile floor (Aside: What was that for? DUI? Was I being tested for a DUI? Because I was there, and I wasn't old enough to drive). I've never again in my life walked as crookedly as I did across that office.

These days, when I see the doctor at Carmel Family Physicians, I walk straight. I have been seen by three of the four unusually attractive female doctors there, and it's been pleasant enough (as pleasant as it gets with anyone who's holding a speculum). Also, none of them are old enough to be my classmate's father (or mother, as the case would be but isn't). But seriously, take another look at those doctors. In particular, notice the significant overall attractiveness gap between the gentlemen and the lady doctors.

So you understand, nice lady doctors, why this is no kind of medical pratice for Abe to go for stripped-in-his-underwear skin cancer checks. I would be happy to recommend J. Byron Walthall Jr., MD, who also appears capable to handle any medical concerns of Abe's Beard. Or this guy, who may date back to the 1900's, making him the world's most deceptively-young-looking doctor.

Just like I promised

Do you see that? Check out his left leg (it's the one on the right in the picture, which may be confusing for those of you who are left/right-challenged like me). It is as high as an SUV. (Also, click on the picture for the full-size version, featuring How Big Abe's Beard Has Become, and his belly button.

Uninspired

Sometimes at work, when it's slow because NC ran out of maternity funding so I only have five clients, I read other people's blogs. I think it's entertaining enough to pass the time until I try to write in my own blog. Surprise! Reading the blogs of people who are hilarious (and coincidentally - or not - paid writers) is highly discouraging and humor-dampening.

So if you have high hopes here, move it along. You can come back the day when I post pictures from our weekend trip to Greenville, SC, where I posed with a number of statues and took The Best Funny Picture of Abe jumping in the air next to a sign about hot dogs. (It seems impossible to get that kind of air from a standing jump. But I saw it, and if you know Abe, you know he's genetically-athletically-metabolically some kind of superhuman.) That's not actually why we drove to Greenville; he can be good at sports from home. We went to A Weekend to Remember, and I forgot to take pictures of the cool hotel elevator, which moved so fast I thought I had morning sickness all weekend. (We all need to hope more than ever that I didn't, since I completely tuned out during the session about How To Be A Godly Mother When You'd Rather Be Singing Karaoke. or On Laundry Day When The Washing Machine Just Broke.) That session was my second least favorite thing* about the weekend.

I told Alexis about my first least favorite already. They had set up a "resource center" right outside our meeting room. In every session, the speakers would reference 3-10 books/games/DVDs/Bible studies/family packs that we could and should purchase at the resource center. So by the end of the conference, when they would say "Another key ingredient in a strong marriage is Extravagant Love," or "So what we really need is Enthusiastic Encouragement," I would whisper to Abe "...which is available in our resource center for $49.95." (We also joked a lot about swine flu.)

We came home, and it was so hot in our apartment I think my aloe plants were sweating. Determined not to put on the AC the first week in May, we went to Target and spent an exorbitant amount of money on a fan powerful enough to claim responsibility for all of the world's Wind Chill Factor. And maybe tsunamis. As a warning, in case you are also buying a fan this spring/summer, they have: (1) become very expensive, and (2) remote controls (because when you're hot, you're lazy!) useless until you remember to buy AAA batteries at the store.

Buying AAA batteries at the store is one of those things that none of us ever remember, until we become like my Dad, who carries a post-it stuck in the inside of his wallet where he can list things like AAA batteries and peet moss, and whatever else it is that his heart desires or his remote control needs from Walmart or Home Depot or Lowes or Harbor Freight. It's always with him when he thinks of something to buy, and since it's already in his wallet, he can't accidentally leave it on the fridge when he goes shopping (or at least, it would be hard). This is a great idea and organizational tool that I plan to adopt, as soon as I can remember to buy the post-its.

*Lest you think it was a spiritual waste of a weekend, I actually had many favorite things about the conference, too, which happen to be more, um, personal and less, um, funny. But I can tell you that my most favorite thing about the conference was coming home, feeling ready to do the work to make the marriage God wants me to have. (Also the gallon of strawberries we bought from an old man at a gas station on our way home.)

weak and tired and full of love

She ran away almost every weekend. We would call her mom to let her know, but she never seemed too concerned. (Maybe that's why her daughter came to us, pregnant at 16.)

On Mondays, she would come back, always dirty, once with gonorrhea.

She had a terrible attitude. She was always cussing at staff; she was always so defiant. She really only talked to me when she had already pissed off the staff on her hall; she would come to me to curse about her hall staff - or once, to ask me to come and help one of my clients, who was crying in the parking lot, having just heard that a relative had passed away.

She never missed Bible study.

Last week, someone hit her in the stomach so hard that it separated her baby from the placenta. I think she was five months pregnant. She had to deliver the baby, only 2 lb. 11 oz., and over the weekend, the baby died.

It's not hard to see how every minute I spend at work is an opportunity for ministry; it's hard to know how to minister. Loving the unloveable ones sounds like such a noble thing to do - like you just need to pray for a big enough heart... but it turns out that what you need more is a very high tolerance for swearing, and patience to fax a lot of runaway persons reports.

O Father,
"He who thought it not robbery to be equal with God, made himself a servant..."
You came. The Creator, the giver of life, the maker of all. You, the single One of the heavens, the great Other of infinity, came. The Creator became creature, and you leapt into our world a little child, weak and tired and full of love.
We can only bow and wonder, amazed that you would not abandon us in our frailty, that you would not suffer us suffering alone, that you could not leave us to our own willfulness. We were lost, and you yourself became the Way. We were broken, and you embraced our frailty. We were rebellious, and you ran to meet us "a long way off."
Good Father, you gave us yourself when we sought the way, the truth, and the life. And when we longed for the way of greatness, you bent low and became the least among us - a servant and a lover - and beckoned us to follow.
"Surely he taught us to love one another; his law is love and his gospel is peace."
We long to follow, but like the shepherds so long ago, are "sore afraid." Following, serving, giving, and loving are strangers to us. We yearn to love, but we are careless students of the Way.
And so, we plead again for the near love of your coming. We pray that you would once more remind us of the fullness of your embrace in our Christ. And we ask that you would challenge us to hold near your love, even as we seek to give it away.
Amen.
-A Prayer from Dwight Ozard "For They Shall Be Fed" (Ed. by Ronald J. Sider)

Dangerous Adhesion: Ribbons Until It Hurts

This post is, of course, named after the Lifetime movie based on my activities today. I got up early(ish) and went straight over to Alisha's. She is my number one compadre at work, and it is (finally) her clients who cause all the trouble there. She's also getting married on May 30, so we spent three and a half Lifetime movies putting together her wedding programs, which are along these lines. All of the cardstock made me secretly miss the anticipation of my own wedding.

The truth?

I will never make a trip to Goodwill where no shopping is allowed.

The Rental Is Without a Doubt In Well Over Average Shape As You Can See

You like that? Because that's clearly prime real estate for rent, right there.

It (and rental listings like it) is also why, after approximately 50 hours invested in finding a tiny house with a tiny yard and a (negotiably) tiny pet deposit, Abe and I are thinking about staying in our same old stinky apartment complex.

You can call me a quitter if you want to, and I'll still let you come over and use the pool. The pool Is Without a Doubt In Well Over Average Shape As You Can See, since it took all of last summer for them to get it open, making it more or less brand-scuba-diving new.

Things I'll make when I have time to do anything other than (1) sleep (2) work (3) find a house (4) sweep cat litter off the bathroom floor again

1. Arborio rice that my sister gave me (nearly a year ago). Stop looking at me so judgmentally. I (only clean out cupboards when I move) keep a well-stocked pantry.
2. A package of instant mashed potatoes intented as a get well gift from a friend, the time before the last time I was supposed to have my wisdom teeth out (I've tried three times now, and it would save me a lot of money if the "three strikes, you're out" rule of baseball also applied to my impacted wisdom teeth).
3. Something involving a lot of pureed pumpkin, which was a good idea at the time, and which is now taking up an unseasonal and significant amount of kitchen space. (Yes, I am getting ready to move.)
4. A shirt pocket quilt for my nephew-to-be, Coming Soon in 2009!
5. A quick run to Target for an iron, a tea strainer, and the blandest cotton sheets they sell in Queen size
6. My (sister's) plants sorry for their fickle tendencies. A little water? One day, they like it. Another day, they waterlog. A little sunshine? Sure! But next week, the sun makes them yellow and puckered. Stupid plants. Sorry, Alexis.
7. A trip to Goodwill where I donate only. NO SHOPPING ALLOWED.