Wish I was an English muffin...

Mine is the most hilarious boyfriend in all the land.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 22:27:51 -0600

Never having been a churchgoing gal until I got a job in a church choir in college, I don't know much about Biblical stories. Fortunately, my homeschooled-yet-rebellious boyfriend is all up on the Bible knowledge, so if I ever need to know something, I can ask him. One of my books commented on the use of music as a relaxation technique throughout history by referencing David and King Saul. I asked Brian to explain this story to me. Here's his version, straight from the Yahoo messenger window:

"david was a shepherd for his father and wahtev, and there's the war going on with the philistines and it's all a big deal
we're talking saving private ryan here.
and david was a well known for his music abilities like playing lute on the hillside n shit.
totall hippie
but a bad ass none the less...and see this is why it can't be true, because there are stories of how he killed like, a bear with his bare hands, and killed a lion with his famous sling.
musicians are nowhere near that physical
so he's hanging out somewhere near the war zone, i guess cause his brother was fighting
that was it, he used to take shit to his brothers at the battle.
and the king was in his tent all stressin out cause they were getting their chosen asses kicked
y'know they were the chosen people
so david's all I'll play music for the king and he'll be all chill and then you guys can fight again
so they bring him in and he plays some blues and a little classic rock just to set the mood.
he gets things goin and everybody's much happier and david's all "in" for helping the king
then he goes wacko and says "oh I can defeat the big giant dude with my sling!"
you know the rest."

If church told stories that way, everyone would go!

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Fakesgiving Day: Chapter 2.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Sat, 10 Nov 2007 16:01:37 -0600

Chapter 2

A much less exciting chapter... which is probably a good thing.

Thorough oven scrubbing led to the ruining of a sponge and a kitchen cloth... but a cure for the smoke situation! (Sometimes sacrifices must be made for Fakesgiving... but that's part of the holiday. We must honor those who sacrificed themselves so that we can be free to bake pies without smoke filling our apartments.)

I created the pumpkin pie mixture as directed by the All-Knowing Can o' Pumpkin, and used my ever-so-fancy bowl-with-a-pouring-tip-thingie to put said mixture into frozen pie crust. I did have a mini-breakdown in which I wondered about the directions on the pie crust package--"Bake pie crust?! Why!? What!!!"--but this was cured by another of what will probably total 50+ phone calls to my mom, who assured me these directions did not apply to a pie such as mine would be. After a very careful pie delivery to the oven, I began the deviled egg process.

This was much less scary than anything else will be today; deviled eggs are usually my responsibility on family holidays, so I've done most of this stuff before. Not to mention since it's my Brian's and my Fakesgiving, I was free to leave out things that tend to freak me out in deviled eggs: onions and pickles. Perhaps the most exciting part of all of this is that I'm finally getting to use some serving dishes that I've literally had for over two years and never used:

Success #1 - Deviled Eggs

Alas, I have no paprika to sprinkle on them--but we're about to make a run to the store, which should remedy that.

A lot of waiting, some embarrassing moments as Brian pantsed me (forgetting that the window was still very open after the smoke-filled apartment incident) and it was time for the pie to come out...

...but the pie was still liquid!!! Another of the 50+ phone calls to my mom, and I was reassured that it would actually be okay to leave the pie in the oven longer than directed to by the apparently Not-So-All-Knowing Can of Pumpkin.

instrukshuns--ur doin it wrong

A few more minutes, and all was well:

Success #2 - Pumpkin Pie

Now it's time for a trip to the store, a way-too-late-lunch, showers (THERE'S NO TIME TO SHOWER WHEN YOU'RE PREPARING A DELICIOUS MEAL), and getting down to business: turkey, homemade dressing, mashed potatoes, green beans, dinner rolls, and corn apparently.

He's exhausted from all the work I'm not letting him do.

(He's gonna kill me for taking that.)

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A story that's probably only funny to me.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 17:07:48 -0500

Yesterday morning I awoke with a horror movie-esque start from a bad dream. (I was trying to escape from a dorm room in a building that was apparently on fire; Brian was so kind as to make a "ffffff" sort of sound in his sleep, which my brain translated as "FIRE RIGHT NEXT TO YOU PANIC AND ALSO RUN NOW.") After getting the crap scared out of me, I found it a little difficult to go back to sleep. I sat there for a while before realizing that Brian seemed to be having a bad dream, too. He was shaking, and after he made a quiet little scared-in-a-dream sound, I woke him up.

Remembering that just the day before he'd noted that he rarely remembers his dreams for long after waking up from them, I decided I wanted to know what had been so scary. I decided to ask him about it, in spite of the fact that he was in the process of falling back asleep and still quite out of it.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"
"Squirrels."

I struggled to compose myself and not wake him from his morning stupor with my Roseanne-like laugh.

"Squirrels?"
"Yeah."
"... And... what were they doing?"
"Attacking us."

My boyfriend had a dream that squirrels were attacking us (with nuts, as I later found out). It pretty much doesn't get any better than that.

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!

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Sun, 03 Jun 2007 19:11:18 -0500

Best Surprise Ever: The boyfriend, who was supposed to work from 5:00pm till close on my last night in town, bursts unexpectedly through the door at 5:11, five minutes after evilly texting me about how busy the restaurant was.

[insert girly squeal!]

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