So, my weekend was pretty busy. Friday night I went straight from work to meet Amanda for dinner. I’m very happy that the express bus takes me right from downtown to within four blocks of the Rock (church). SummerCrush didn’t get my email, so he didn’t meet us at Chipotle, and we didn’t meet up with him until after the service. Amanda and I went across the street to Muddy Paws afterwards for some yummy cheesecake (that did not make me feel good later that night, but perhaps cheesecake at 10 pm isn’t a good idea anyways). SummerCrush didn’t really talk to us all that much, which was only slightly disappointing.
I had more issues with the sermon than I thought I would – it’s a series on finding Mr or Miss Right, and the subject of dating has always been a favorite of mine (at least in a youth group, teach the kids to not have sex and be responsible and guard their hearts kind of way, and also in the Elisabeth Elliot don’t date but court and don’t do that unless you’re 95% sure you’re going to get married to each other kind of way). My main beef didn’t have anything to do with that topic, however. The Rock is fairly conservative, which normally isn’t a problem for me, but they don’t approve of women in professional paid ministry, or perhaps only in ordained situations (I’m not sure which and don’t want to misrepresent them). Sometimes the pastor just doesn’t know when he’s sticking his foot in his mouth. Amanda and I had the same problem last year when he spoke about the war with Iraq (I can’t find a post about it, so I must not have written about it). What he said wasn’t technically wrong, but the way it came out was… offensive, especially if you weren’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Friday night he kept saying “men” and stressing the word when he said it, and it was just… unfortunate that he did that. I wonder how many other women in the audience (or men, too, since there are those whose sensibilities are attuned) were offended by his remarks.
The general idea of his message was good, however nothing original. I’ve come to not expect originality out of church, though. I’ve been to a few too many services to expect that (roughly speaking, 1600 services, give or take – the average 27-year old, had they gone to church every Sunday, and not counting ages 0-7, would have gone to 1,040 services, assuming they never got sick or took a vacation, and went all through college, which is a huge assumption). It’s those four years of college when I went to chapel three times a week and to whatever church I was volunteering at on Sundays. Oh, and my church in Michigan and the Church I’m at for another 8 days, going to two services each Sunday. Needless to say I’m looking forward to a Sunday or two (or twelve) off. OK, I really wouldn’t take twelve off – church is far too large a part of my life to do that. But I will take a short vacation before choosing to attend the service of my choice (get the point?).
Enough about church.
Saturday I did sleep in, which was fabulous. Oh, I should say that taking the bus all the way from Uptown to my house at 11:30 at night was completely fine, and I couldn’t be happier. I was responsible and kept my headphones turned down low and made sure I looked at each person’s face as they got on the bus, just to be safe. No worries though.
So Saturday I got up around 11, drug myself to the market to get milk so I could make Swedish Pancakes (recipe coming soon, I promise). It’s becoming my Saturday ritual. I bought yummy bacon, too. Can’t get enough of it. Real bacon. Called the Salon, already told that story.
After my haircut and the memorable time spent with HairGuy, I ran several errands, all by bus, and amazingly did it in a short period of time, or at least about the length of time it would have taken me by car. At some point, Liz called to decide where to meet her for dinner. Her dad was in town for the weekend and we went out for Mexican, and then she took us to the Aquarium where she works on weekends. Sat and had coffee afterwards as the mall closed around us. Thankfully, she drove me home, so I was at my house by 10:30. This was a crucial part of my Saturday, since the choir director was picking me up for worship at 7:15 on Sunday morning.
Have I mentioned I gave the borrowed car back? I am, very officially, sans vehicle, and honestly, I’m loving it. I haven’t had to buy cat food yet, or a 24-pack of toilet paper, but life is good. The biggest concerns are getting to Amanda’s apartment and Alison’s house, and the latter said she’d come pick me up, while the former and I can work around the problem.
Sunday started very early, which I was not happy about, but I was ready a full fifteen minutes before my ride arrived. I multi-tasked while there, playing in the band at first service, visiting both junior and senior high Sunday School classes, and then skipping the second service to prepare a final mailing about our picnic. Brought my guitar home in the back of the choir director’s pickup. I should have the office emptied of my things by tomorrow. Scary. Pastor S was preaching since Pastor B was out of town. The Personnel Committee also made an announcement about both of our departures and the party next week for that purpose. A letter went out just before the weekend.
It’s very official, now. I have eight days left. Seriously, it just seems so weird. And all my stuff is taken care of, which is even weirder. No last-minute rush to get everything in order.
Sunday afternoon’s adventure I’ve also already detailed, so I won’t go into that, except to say that there is a particular glute-ular muscle that I injured that still hurts.
On a final, shallow note, I’d like to comment on television. It is end-of-season time, which means spectacular episodes that keep me on the edge of my seat, and then four months of agony over what will happen next? I’ve seen some very good writing and plot lines. I have the last episode of Enterprise to watch still (so don’t tell me!), but other than that I’ve been able to keep up so far. Some of my favorite shows won’t be on tonight (CMA Awards), and there’ll be a double-up on Thursday at 7, so I’ll have some taping to do, but all in all I’m quite pleased with this May. This is good, since summer TV sucks. Land of Reality TV, here we come. I hate reality TV. I refuse to watch it. Blech. I’d rather read a book. Or do laundry. Or clean out the fridge. Seriously.
Speaking of which, I really don’t want to clean out the months of icky stuff in my fridge – wanna come over and do it? I’m about to the point of paying someone. You could make a few bucks!