Everyday Life

I know I spent a LONG time discussing why we needn’t keep the OT food laws, and I know it’s been a while since I posted anything of my theology of food.

But I haven’t forgotten it or given it up, I promise.

Instead, I’m at a node and am struggling to figure out which branch to follow.

Except that I just figured out where I need to go next. Yep. Okay. Look forward to hearing about how your appetite can rob you.

In other news, I recently found a second-hand copy of my all-time favorite diet book.

If you’re interested in losing weight and come to me for a book recommendation, I’m going to point you to Barbara Rolls’ Volumetrics.

Volumetrics is firmly rooted in science, is practical for everyday whole-family use, and (most of all?) allows you to still enjoy food without feeling deprived.

Back in my days in residence hall foodservice, I often amazed my coworkers with how much I ate. How did I stay thin, they wondered, when I ate a loaded plate plus two cereal bowls and a small bowl worth of food at every meal?

Volumetrics. Honestly.

I’m sold on the science–and its practical application.

Of course, with all the running I’ve been doing lately (that would not be the physical activity version of running), I haven’t had much opportunity to eat anything but (bleh) fast food.

Today I ordered my absolute favorite, rave-about-it-all-the-time Apple Pecan Chicken Salad (the half size is all you need) from Wendy’s.

And I was disappointed.

It didn’t taste like I remember it tasting (last week). I’m hoping that the problem is just dysgeusia (altered perception of taste) related to either the shingles or the medicine I’m taking for the shingles.

‘Cause it would really stink if my favorite healthy fast food stopped being good for good.

And–if it happens to be a dysgeusia problem, I could always try zinc supplementation to see if that’d help. (Interesting research about zinc and a potential role in taste. Very tentative at present, but when you’ve got completely unexplained dysgeusia, you’re willing to grasp at straws to stop the weight loss–but I should stop talking about work. Anyhow, I’d love to see more research on zinc and taste/flavor perception.)

So, what’re you eating these days? Do you have a “go-to” diet that you’ve been successful with (or that you’ve heard about and have questions regarding)? I LOVE talking food.

A couple nights ago, I found myself unexpectedly singing Madame Blueberry’s tune…

I’m so blue-hoo-hoo
Blue-hoo-hoo
Blue-hoo-hoo
Blue.
I’m so blue I don’t know what to do.

I’d spray painted a thrifted file cabinet a beautiful navy blue–and hadn’t realized at the time that I’d also painted myself rather blue.

Since I was wearing a skirt and a sleeveless top while painting (what else?) I’d managed to cover both my legs and my arms with a fine mist of blue paint. Strangely enough, it was the backs of my legs (which faced away from where I was spraying) that got the most paint. And since it was the backs of my legs that got the paint, I didn’t realize that I’d painted myself until hours later when I was preparing for my bath. Whoops!

Now, I don’t know what most people do when they paint themselves blue… (What, you’ve never painted yourself blue? Come on, you gotta live a little.)

But what I did was…well, really, I didn’t notice the extent of the problem until I was already in my bathwater. Which is a rather inconvenient.

So I lathered and scrubbed. I grabbed a salt/oil scrub and lathered and scrubbed some more. I alternated soap and salt scrub and soap again, until at last, in the dim light that is my evening bath atmosphere, I looked clean.

I drained the tub and started singing a different song.

I had left a great blue ring in the tub.

What to do? What to do?

Being a great reader, I grabbed mother’s best dress and wiped up that tub ring quick as a spot.

But now mother’s dress had a spot…

Okay, I didn’t really use mother’s dress. I used my trusty spray bottle full of vinegar and one of my bathroom-cleaning rags.

But I did think about using mother’s dress, if mother’s dress were around.

But I suppose it wouldn’t have been wise even had mother’s dress been around, because I had no Voom to ultimately make it go away–and even if I had Voom, would Voom work when there’s no snow?

It’s dry here. Very, very dry.

I’m bleeding blue for the farmers. One I know is spending thousands of dollars a day to irrigate–and may or may not end up with a crop to show for it.

Yes, that’s why I painted myself blue. For the farmers. Of course.

I knew I had a reason…I just had to come to it.

I am appalled to see that I have posted only once in the past week.

I am just about as appalled that I am writing a post to apologize (those can be SO incredibly annoying.)

I do have a halfway decent alibi.

Ordinary work to be done, some of it lasting rather late.

Fourth of July with the whole crowd at the W’s.

Catching up from being gone at work (Yes, even a day means craziness to come).

My niece’s first birthday party.

The Omaha/Council Bluffs Color Me Rad 5K.

And Harry Potter.

I’ve been devouring them. Six not insubstantial books in two weeks.

I don’t think I’ve been so obsessed with a series of books since I was a pre-teen.

It’s sickening.

But true.

If I were to grade my photography skills, I would have to say that I probably rank far below average (especially among the Mommy-blogger-digital-SLR-owning set).

My understanding of composition is average.

My understanding of lighting is something much less than average.

My understanding of my camera’s settings is virtually nonexistent.

Nevertheless, I spent my Memorial Day weekend getting myself out of the auto and program modes.

I had plenty of fodder–a piano recital Friday night, a graduation Saturday morning, graduation parties Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and a weenie-roast on Monday.

Oh, and the Little Miss.

She makes pretty decent camera fodder.

I’ll keep playing photographer if it means spending time with her.

I just have to say it.

I complain way too much.

I am blessed beyond compare, yet I spend so much time whining.

For now, I’m thankful for lunch with Kathy and Jon, hanging out on the dock with Beth, conversations with Grace, Reg’s with the W’s and Cait and Anna and the aforementioned, a huge hug from Ashlyn, time spent with the Ericksons and their guests, a bonfire at the other W’s.

And that was just today.

Really? I think I have something to complain about?

Think again, Rebekah. God has given you immeasurable blessings.

Praise Him.

The third grader appraised me silently before she approached.

“Do you have a sister in high school?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Does she go to Lakeview?”

“No, she’s in Lincoln.”

“Oh,” she was visibly disappointed. “Because I saw someone who looked just like you at Lakeview last night.”

I laughed and explained that I must have a doppelganger in town–which led to a fascinating discussion about doppelgangers with a group of three third graders.

“Does everyone have a doppelganger?” one girl asked.

I was refilling my water bottle, minding my own business, when the resident’s comment forced my attention.

“How are things in Neligh?”

A bit confused, I answered “I’m sorry?”

“How’s your family?”

“They’re doing well, thank you.”

“Is your dad still…”

He must have seen the confusion on my face, for he stopped and explained.

“There’s a really good Christian man with nine or ten children in Neligh–and, well, you look just like his oldest daughter.”

“Oh, sorry–I’m just the second of seven, not the first of nine or ten.”

I laughed it off, wondering how much my full skirt and long hair had to do with the mix-up.

I can go months, even years without being mistaken for someone else (or having someone else mistaken for my sister)–yet I ended up with two doppelganger sitings in as many weeks.

Has anyone ever told you that you have a doppelganger?

Every morning, the e-mail arrives in my inbox “Signed, Sealed, Delivered, Here are your ___ matches”.

Every morning, I delete those messages unread.

Perhaps I’m an odd duck among eHarmony subscribers, but I don’t initiate contact with guys.

Why not?

‘Cause I’m there to be found, not to find. I’m interested in marriage–and I’m a complementarian.

So I ignore those messages unless I get the one saying “So-and-so wants to get to know you.”

Then I’ll log in and communicate with the ones who want to get to know me.

Except that sometimes, when I get bored, I’ll read through the matches who haven’t contacted me, archiving the unsuitable ones.

After all, I reason, I’m doing those guys a favor–decreasing how many matches they have to sort through.

So…what does it mean if you’ve been archived?

1. Your profile does not evidence that Christ is the center of your life.
   The one thing you are most passionate about should be Christ. Always. It’s wonderful that you love your family or your job or hard work or sports (okay, maybe I have a harder time with that last one). But you should be most passionate about Christ. If you aren’t, you aren’t for me.
2. You don’t want kids
   I want kids. You don’t. I don’t know why you don’t want kids but I do know that I could never marry a man who didn’t want kids. Why lead you on?

There you go. That’s why I archive.

Short list, huh?

I keep it that way on purpose.

A profile is a tiny snapshot of someone’s life. There’s no way that I can know enough (apart from the above) from the few questions on an eHarmony profile to give a definitive yes or no to a guy.

Which means that I ignore bad grammar (or at least try to) and give the guy a chance. After all, I know people who have terrible grammar who are nonetheless wonderful people.

I ignore a silly choice for the last book you read and enjoyed. Truth be told, I know some very intelligent, well-informed people who aren’t big readers. And that’s okay. I’m not going to nix you on the basis of that.

I ignore mentions of video games and sports (even though I’m not much of a fan of either). So I’m not a fan. That doesn’t mean that my boyfriend or husband couldn’t be (well…honestly, this one’s hard for me. I’d have to see what being a fan of sports and/or video games looked like in order to determine that would be okay.)

The point is, there’s a lot I DON’T know based on the eHarmony profile. Which means I’m not going to be picky about getting to know guys initially.

Turns out, the more I experience in life, the more I agree with that one guy in that one book our college/career women’s Bible Study read last summer.

The most important area of compatibility is Christ.

29 Dimensions may increase the odds that your “matches” will be compatible in that one area–but really, it’s that one area that counts.

Otherwise, you’ll be archived.

(In the course of writing this post, I discovered one more automatic archive item. If your favorite author/preacher is Joel Osteen, you’re going to be archived. No ifs, ands, or buts.)