Thursday, August 6, 2009

I'm Down with Jesus

I'm still here.

On the beach.

I return home next week.

Being at the beach can either remind you that A) you're horribly out of shape when you see a tight stomached woman effortlessly race past you or B) that actually, you don't look that bad when you've just noticed that woman with her stomach practically hanging to her knees gasp beside you.

But anyhow, I'll back up some.

On Sunday, I went to church with my Grandma. Otherwise known as my Nana Jo. Oh, and her boyfriend Bill. Isn't it cute that she has a boyfriend? When I met up with her she informed me that there would be communion at church. I sort of blinked at her in confusion.

"Communion?" I repeated stupidly even though I had a vague idea of what it was. It had something to do with bread...and wine...wait...did this mean I have to go to the alter and have the preacher (reverand? pastor?) place one of those disgusting wafer things in my mouth? I had that in my mouth before and it tasted like paper and didn't seem to want to dissolve. So it sort of sat at the roof of my mouth in this funky tasting blob.

"Communion. You'll take a piece of bread and some grape juice and pass it down," Nana Jo said, probably thinking that I was some kind of heathen.

"Geez Amber, you really need to go to church more," my husband Tom said beside me. He was definately looking at me like I was some kind of heathen.

Then we all walked into the church, which is actually inside my Nana Jo's retirement home. We settled down on a pew and I made sure to keep my knees together because I was in a dress. I'm not a fan of wearing dresses or skirts because I am not ladylike and I'm always worried that I'll forget to keep my legs closed and expose my panties that I got at Wal-Mart to everyone. I remembered to do so at church because I didn't want to give all the elderly people around a heart attack. So I sat up straight and pretended like I came to church all the time.

I'm not a heathen. I know exactly what I'm doing...

I thumbed through the hymn book that was in front of me and nodded in a businesslike way as though I knew exactly what all the songs were even though I barely recognized any of them.

Nana Jo introduced me to a few of her friends and I shook their hands and said hello. I wanted to add, "By the way, I'm totally down with Jesus. Don't worry, I won't taint your church," but I thought that would be a bit much.

Then the service began and we opened with a song. Thankfully a list of the songs we were going to be singing was being passed out so I had the lyrics in front of me. I admit, I lip synched the words because no one wants to hear me sing that early in the morning. Or anytime, really. I sort of squawk and I'm always offkey so really, it was best that I really didn't sing.

You know, something about the church service was that we went into prayer a lot. Sometimes the pastor (reverand?) would start talking and all of a sudden I'd notice everyone around me had their heads bowed in prayer. It would be nice if he went, "Let us pray," at first so I'd know. Because I'd just be staring ahead dumbly and then a few seconds later I'd noticed the bobbed heads and be all, "Oh crap! and quickly lower my own head. This happened more than once.

Church wasn't so bad. The reason why I don't go is that I never quite feel uplifted enough to attend. I just nod along and am all, "Okay, yes, Jesus is good," and, "Yes, I suppose God was nice to give us his only son.."

The elderly people were sweet though. I love their names. Rose and Dottie--("oh like from A League of Their Own!" I had said to the startled white haired lady) and Marion.

The communion wasn't horrible either. It was just a piece of loaf bread that actually tasted like bread and a tiny swig of grape juice in a thimble which made me briefly feel like a giant.

(Fe-fi-fo-fum me giant who drinks grape juice..)

After church we went to the Officer's Club for brunch. Tom sort of made a noise as we entered because he sometimes gets it in his head that Officers think they're better than Enlisted which is so not true. I get offended if any enlisted person bad mouths an Officer because I'm all, "Hello, my Mom was a Colonel and worked her tail off. Hello, my Nana Jo's boyfriend also worked hard..."

Tom sort of joked when we sat down at the table, "Wow, this is a step up from the Enlisted Club. We're usually at wooden tables!"

Not true.

Just Tom being cocky.

I ended up getting a Belgian waffle with strawberry syrup. Yum. Oh, and did I mention that we had no kids with us? They were back with my parents. So it was bliss sitting there and not having to tell someone to use their indoor voices or not having to cut up their food and urge them to eat. It was just me, sitting there with my knees closed casually sipping on champagne. CHAMPAGNE!

Tom got some pancakes with boring old maple syrup. When I mentioned that he could have strawberries on top he pulled a face and you'd have thought that I said he could put anchovies on top or something.

It was a lovely brunch. After that, we went back to Nana Jo's retirement home so she could pick up a few things.

And then...

We started heading for the beach...


  1. My favorite part:

    "A) you're horribly out of shape when you see a tight stomached woman effortlessly race past you or B) that actually, you don't look that bad when you've just noticed that woman with her stomach practically hanging to her..."

    This is sooo true!!

  2. hahaha! Sounds like good times... my husband is the same way when it comes to officers so I completely understand (in his defense though, one of my friends married an officer and he had a very much so 'better than though' attitude when he came to our house, so...) Anyways, enjoy the beach!

  3. Ah, the beach! That sounds great! Enjoy!

  4. What I wouldn't give to be on a beach right now.

    And to have my own thimble of grape juice...I'm thirsty.

  5. ahh...the beach...i'm jealous....

  6. Pah! Jesus? I'm down. I grew up mormon and had to eat bread and drink water (Because Jesus really didn't drink wine like it says in the bible. Wine is alcohol and alcohol is the devil so he couldn't have drank wine gasp!)

    If you really think about the stuff they do at church, it is just wierd and silly!

    Glad you were able to keep your legs together!

  7. I think I need to get a "I'm Down With Jesus" bumper sticker!

  8. What? No wearing of the bathing suit under the church clothes? LOL

  9. I need beach. I don't need church but I do need beach.

  10. I so need to have waffles with strawberry syrup now.

  11. I'm not a church goer. I use to be Catholic. haha. I remember all the things you mentioned. Church makes me kind of jittery.

  12. Glad you had a good time with your grandma. And about those dresses. . . now I am down with you on that sitting like a lady thing. My mother used to elbow me in church when I was sitting like a baseball player in the dugout with my hands on my knees, "Put your legs together and sit like a lady!"
    And that was very hard! Especially since my legs didn't touch the floor!

    You know, I found Jesus at the beach as many times as I have found him in church! Glad you and Tom got to the beach!

  13. I'm glad you're having fun! Guess what I get to go this weekend? A beach in Mexico! Rosarito to be exact. I can't wait! Last time I went I was like 5 or 6.

  14. Did you ever consider wearing track pants and a tee to the beach? Hell, why not? You get hot? Get in the water, simple....

  15. You know what I love about church? When the preacher says to go to a certain passage in the Bible and everyone around me can get there in .3 seconds, and five minutes later I'm still looking for the table of contents. :)

  16. "I'm down with Jesus" : Classic
    I wonder what they would have done if you said that. :)

  17. When I go to the beach I always try to sit near the heavier people, I'm much less self-conscious about my lumpy self then.

    I don't go to church much, but I usually leave with a stiff neck from staring at the ceiling. I have to keep an eye out for the tell-tale cracks that mean the roof is about to cave in on me!

  18. man that reminds me of sunday brunch at the officer's club growing up! ahh the memories...

  19. Hey I say F-it. Wear that bikini or mu-mu or garbage bag or thong and act like you OWN IT.

    Except the thong people. I threw that in but you make me nerrrrrvous.

  20. I'm afraid that if I even glanced in the general direction of a church, it would quickly burst into flames.

    Much rather be at the beach. Or brunch, with champagne, of course!

  21. Once up on a time there was a Banshee who was really an aunt of 14. Being as horribly smelly and disfigured as she was, she build up a network of friends on that thing called "blogosphere." You know, the social media of the Internet. Her list of friends grew and grew... and she was blogging her little green heart out and enjoying all the new people she was meeting and maintaining a socialite type of life. On the Internet, that is.

    One of her favoritest blogs to visit was the one called "Airing My Dirty Laundry... One Sock At A Time" The blogger of that site was the funniest, cutest, most creative of them all. Every single day at the same time, this Banshee knew she could go and visit Dirty Laundry and get a kick out of it. Always. Even when Dirty Laundry was a bit peeved, she still managed to make it humorous. Maybe not always intentionally, but that is how it comes out.

    Needless to say, Banshee would be tickled pink every day. At the same time. Almost guaranteed.

    Guaranteed, at least, until the past week. Dirty Laundry decided that going to the beach in TX was better than blogging. A day went by, no post from Dirty Laundry. 2 days went by, STILL no post from Dirty Laundry. Banshee's heart was breaking. *sniffles* Day 3 there was a post! She says she's down with Jesus. Cool. Day 4... no post! Day 5... Day 6...

    Banshee dried up and whithered along with her funny bone. She misses her funny bone. COME BACK, Dirty Laundry! Smells and all! COME BACK!!!!....

  22. I'm just glad you ate before you went to the beach. Not 'cause of the waiting 30 minutes thing - but becuase sand and pancake syrup just don't get along.

  23. I'm sitting here busting up, both over your post and because of Aunt of 14's comment. :)

    I, too, have my issues with church. I stopped going when I was 13 (as a family, we had bad luck with our pastors having affairs with married women, which kind of sours you on the whole role model thing). Then I decided to get married. To a Catholic. Not a devout Catholic; more like an I-go-to-church-on-Easter-and-Christmas-but-can't-take-communion-because-I-haven't-confessed-since-1995 Catholic. I knew I didn't want to convert, but somehow it seemed like we should still find a way to get married in a church---if somebody would let us.

    I joined a local congregation, but soon I was getting phone calls criticizing me for not doing more to be an active member. Hello...I haven't gone to a church service in 20 years and you want me to jump back in with both feet? I'm down with Jesus too, but I gotta ease my way back into things, people!


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