The End of the World As We Know It (to be)

I felt I should add the (to be) in case REM slaps me with a lawsuit.  Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you be thinking about the REM song right now.  No circumstances!!

..."Lenny Bruce is not afraid"....DANG IT!

Its like some kind of a brain disease!  It just gets in there and it won't leave.

But, I saw something lately that made me gasp and think, "What is wrong with the universe?"  It was this:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Did we really need this?  Were Doritos and Taco Bell not causing enough problems in the world without needing to combine forces???  Did Morbid Obesity in America need anymore help?

What other treats must combine in order to bring on the Apocalypse?  Hmmmm.....

Skittle and Slurpees

Oh!  Maybe steak...but as a filling for a donut!

Or perhaps pizza sprinkled with Snickers.

Now I'm hungry.

There are other things that I believe will usher in the End Times. 

1.  Jane Seymour art and jewelry

Is it a snake?  Is it, as a hilarious Mother's Day post on FB declared, supposed to remind me of boobs and a butt?  Or, like, two eagle's talons as they are about to rip each other apart? Or flamingos pecking at each others' necks?!?  Gracious sakes!  Make it stop!

2.  If "Two Broke Girls" wins an Emmy or an award of any sort

That show is not funny.  It is people on a stage hurling one-liners at each other that can't even be connected into a meaningful conversation.

3. If Libraries shut down

I just bought my first book off of Kindle for my iPad.  I feel like such traitor.  I LOVE to read.  And I love books.  I get a sense of vertigo thinking about what the next 20 years brings for the world of actual books.  I can't think about it.  I need a distraction.  I need to go read something.  Where's my iPad?

4.   If Snooki turns out to be a wonderful mother who home schools her children and writes columns for Focus on the Family

Good for her.  But I will save up my canned good and go off the map and live in the remote hills of Arkansas.  It is a sign. I cannot live in that upside down world.



5.  If a powerful nation elects a leader who is wildly popular and brings with him 3 1/2 years of world peace, including a halt to the trouble in Israel


Well, that one is real.  But RIGHT before that will be when Cadbury, Hershey, and Mars all announce on the same day that all chocolate will now be made with vegan products and will, after each bite, leave a subtle suggestion of carrot.

Beach Boys

"Didja hear the news, Mister??", says a random juvenile street urchin running by you on the side of the road, "The Beach Boys have gotten back together!"  (Although, in my head, the street urchin is wearing knickers circa-1932, so how he knows about the Beach Boys, I truly cannot say)

Is it possible for three guys to all draw the short straw??

Well, the constant cheesy movie running through my head is correct...the Beach Boys are playing gigs again.   Middle-aged women everywhere are dusting off their Brian Wilson posters and attempting to squeeze into those delicious pink hot pants.

Your mom is ready for the BB Reunion!

I, on the other hand, am keeping my hot pants in the drawer, thank you very much.  And its not just because I am younger than 54.

No, for me, there is a grudge.  A bone to pick with the Beach Boys.  I take exception to the song "California Girls"...I think.

Here's the deal.  The lyrics are as follows:

Well East Coast girls are hip I really dig those styles they wear

So, they are really great dressers and Brian Wilson "digs" them.  That's cool.

And the Southern Girls with the way they talk, they knock me out when I'm down there.

Sigh...its true!  No man can stand up to a blonde, tan, southern girl saying, "Hey, ya'll.  Howya doin'!"  I wouldn't have stood a chance at finding a date if I were living here while single.

The Mid-West farmer's daughters really make you feel alright

................................"Aright"?.......................Really?  Midwest girls make guys feel "......alright".  Well, thanks, Brian.  That's so sweet. East Coast girls dress hot.  Southern girls "knock you out".  But, if you ask me, Brian, it sounds like the lyrics just flowed from your lips until you got to the Midwest.

I can just picture the Beach Boys sitting around trying to write this song.

"The Midwest....um, what kind of girls live there?"

"From what I can see from the airplane that takes me from L.A. to NYC, it pretty much looks like farms...lets just say they are farmers daughters."

"And they make me feel....uh...I don't know."

"I knew a Mid West girl once.  She was sweet and honest and didn't play games and talked normal like a news anchor and wore several different shades of black, gray and brown and was addicted to Faygo pop...she made me feel alright."  

The album they dedicated to "Midwest Farmer's Daughters"

Midwest girls are AWESOME!  Because I am AWESOME!

However, this is where I am not sure I have a problem with this song.  Because the next lyric is.

And the Northern girls with the way they kiss, they keep their boyfriends warm at night

Woo hoo!  And he sings it all lusty-like.  I wanna be a Northern Girl!!  But maybe I am???  What is Michigan?  Midwest?  Northern?  Its definitely "Mid" America.  But we definitely like hockey and have an ever-so-slight Canadian lilt to our speech.

Either way, I still am mad at the Beach Boys because I must go through this entire thought process EVERY TIME I hear that stupid song.  Every....time.....

And don't even get me STARTED on "Good Vibrations"...

"Sexy Cave Girl"

My husband just got back from a week long business trip to the buzzing metro of Portland, Oregon.

Its been a lazy day as I decompress from a week of single-parenting and he sleeps off the time difference and red-eye flight home.

I showered, I dressed, I put on make up. We headed out the door for a lunch date.

On the way into Chipotle (naked burrito bowl is a gluten free girl's best friend!), I caught my reflection in the store window.

Sweet Mother of  Bam Bam!  I 'd forgotten to do my hair!!!!

Do you know what this MEANS?  No, probably not.  Because you are a normal person with straight hair or curly hair.  Your idea of undone hair is, "Oh no, my completely straight hair is flat!" or "Oops, forgot to put gel into my lusciously curly hair so now it has to only look like Maid Marion in "Prince of Thieves" instead of like Mariah Carey in the 1990s."

My hair, on the other hand, is both.  BOTH, I tell you!  Kinky, curly, frizzy on top.  Straight on the bottom. Its a distant cousin of the mullet.

Well, it looked like this:

 

 

Attempting to distill the horror that my husband MUST have been feeling, I tried to tell him that its that "Sexy Cave Girl" thing that guys are always fantasizing about.  That's a thing...right?

And I mean, if this girl is good enough for Kevin Costner, what is my husband complaining about??

Native American Orphan Lady/My Hair Mentor

I usually straighten it, but that takes work.  So, the other option is to curl it.  But then I show up at choir, Room Mom meetings, at the end of my driveway to get my trash can, and it looks like I'm about to head out to prom.  Although, honestly, living in the South, I can get away with it.

So, you know.  Fine.  My hair is tragic.  But I'm telling you...this Sexy Cave Girl thing is going to catch on.  Soon "All y'all" (southern) will be running to your hair dresser and asking for a spiral perm. "But just on the top half of my hair, please!"

Loner

My husband is in Portland, Oregon for the week on business.

I miss the concept of my husband.  I miss the love of my husband.  I miss our fun banter as we watch TV or get ready for bed.

But I am sort of having an affair with the solitude while he is away.

I have always liked be alone.

I have gone to movies by myself.  Restaurants, as a lone patron, do not intimidate me in the least. 12 hour road trips...done.  For fun, when I lived in DC, I gloried in hopping on the Metro and walking wistfully around the District for hours and hours.

Words can't express it, but I feel more significant when I'm alone.   Suddenly, instead of intently listening or talking to the person I am with, I can focus on the world around me.  The social quirks of other people.  This is a relief, since my quirks are typically the ones on display.

My reality is full of miss-adventures.  I quirk the CRAP out of normal life!  Being alone allows me to feel put together.  No one has to know how odd I am or about the running sitcom entitled, "The One at the Airport", currently playing in my mind.

In my head, I am sitting at a cafe in Paris in a striped, boatneck shirt and black peddle-pushers, sipping coffee, and basically being Audrey Hepburn.

It's me!  Thinking about how much more awesome I am than everyone else

In airports, I find myself talking to strangers, commenting on the cuteness of babies, actually making eye contact with the lady at the ticket counter.  I'm a slightly better version of me, I think.

So...what do I do when my husband is away?

Oh, I don't know...can you handle it?

I mean, really...this is hot stuff...

I. watch.  PBS.

My husband rolls his eyes at PBS.  Meanwhile, PBS is on the list of non-human things I would marry if I could.  Someday, PBS, we will find our voice and make our love known...sigh...

Masterpiece Theater!  Ken Burns' Documentaries on Baseball, Jazz, and the Civil War!  Ken Burns' "American Adventures"!  Ken Burns' Behind the Scenes of a Ken Burns Documentary!

I should pine for my Beloved, I know.  I'll anxiously await his arrival on Friday, I swear.  But, since he can't be here, why not enjoy it??  Kids in bed by 7:30pm.  PBS at 7:31pm.

Don't tell him, though.

He will be scandalized by my behavior.

New and Improved

I have not posted since February 1st!!!!

I had a mental block, its true.  I admit it.  But, part of the reason was that I wanted Yankee Peach to just be fun.  I wanted it to reach a broad audience.  What I am getting at here is that I did not want it to be a "Christian Blog".  That lasted for a while, but guess what...Jesus is 100% of my life, so stifling that side of me was getting very difficult and caused some mental constipation. 

I just said constipation.

But, its okay.  Its still me!  As long as there is evil in the world, there will be handsome dictators to crush on.

For every post about what God is teaching me, there will be one about my hatred for the carpool line.

Can the two co-exist.  Absolutely.

Am I a hypocrite for loving Jesus and hating the carpool?  I don't think so.  I'm human.  Jesus would love the carpool line, I'm sure, but his 12 disciples would grumble about it for ever and cause Jesus to give a lecture about "the first being last" in His kingdom.  I'm a disciple.  I'm not Jesus. 

But I am desperately trying to be more like Him.  Starting with my new rule for myself.

BIBLE BEFORE BREAKFAST

I stink...STINK...at having "quiet time", as Christians call it.  I want to do stuff!  I don't want to sit and read and meditate and pray.  But I have wilted down to a much lesser version of myself because of it. 

Eating is my favorite thing.  Today, I putzed around for an entire hour, starving to death, before finally reading the Bible.  How much do I hate reading the Bible that I would allow myself to starve AND decide that 7am is the perfect time to clean the kitchen????  I'm terrible.

I won't always do this, I don't think, but I need the accountability.  So, here is my take on Psalm 1, which I read this morning:

"My delight is in Your word
Not in praises of man
Not in the efforts I make

My mind is filled up with Your law
Not with the pleasures of the world
Not with my selfish desires

Holy Spirit.  Remind Me.
Let Your word be the fuel for change
Holy Spirit.  Refresh me.
Bring my roots deeper.
Make the water abundant

My leaves have withered
I've basked too long in the lust of this world
My soul is thirsty
I've forsaken the food of Your word.

May the fruit the Spirit will bring,
May it be pleasing to You
May the world admire the Cultivator of the fruit
Not the tree from whence it came.

Know my ways.
Tend me.
Water the soil, Pat the dirt
Prune the worthless, Increase the fruit.

Give me Strength
Make me useful
Increase Your harvest.
Amen.

Christian Problems

So, back in my working days in Washington D.C., I was talking to a guy, Jonathan, about my faith.  As I explained that I am a Christian, the guy got very thoughtful and then asked, "Oh!  You're one of those Christian people.  Does that mean that you like...um...retreats???"

Only on a retreat....

I busted out laughing.  Best response I have ever encountered when trying to engage someone in a spiritual discussion.  And he said the word "retreats" like its a word he had only heard and never spoken aloud.

It got me thinking that Christians have their own..."things".  And NO I don't mean the normal things like boycotting Prime time TV shows or hating Democrats.  I also am not talking about our theological stances on baptism or the Trinity.   But, like, we have our own culture.

So, today, I thought I would take you through some of the more awkward things...like the pressure to go on those retreats...about being a Christian.

Christian Problems

1.  Retro-active Prayer

Christians, especially in youth group, LOVE to ask for things retro-actively.  True story.  A girl, on Sunday, asked for prayer for a test she took last Friday.  She didn't study very hard and she doesn't think she did a good job.  Of course, God is not bound by time, BUT, still, its an awkward moment for the group.  How do you go about praying for her.  "Um, please help Stacy to have remembered to study harder"???  In this particular instance, my genius brother raised his hand and said, "Um, Pastor Jay?  I would also like to ask for retro-active prayer.  The Israelites are fleeing from the Egyptians and they need to cross the Red Sea."

2.  Over-zealous Boys

Poor pubescent boys.  They are taught over and over again to control their "thought life".  And, absolutely, that is based on Jesus' teachings that its not just what you do, but its what is in your heart.  However, boys, please...keep this struggle to yourselves.  Its never awesome to be a 19 year old girl (let's just say...not that this happened to me) minding your own business, when a guy comes up to you and says, "Um, I'm sorry, but your tank top is causing me to stumble."  Or WORSE is when a guy comes up and says, "I need to apologize to you but I can't say why."  Oh...my...word...

3. Tithing in the Computer Age

My husband and I are terrible tithers.  There, I said it.  SO, we worked it out with our bank and our church to do an automatic bill-pay type of thing.  I know, I know, it takes the joy out of presenting that money to the Lord, but for bad tithers you either do automatic bill pay or you don't give at all.

Anyhoo, knowing that we have already given for the month doesn't make life any less awkward when we are passing the plate on Sunday.  I'm tempted to just throw in an empty envelope.  Or, what I REALLY want to do is pull a T-shirt out of my purse during the offertory, and slip it on over my dress.  It would read, "We do Bill Pay...Everything's Cool."

4.  Small Group Dynamic

Once you are out of  the main service, everything is about Small Groups.  Sunday School classes, Bible studies, etc.  You get used to nodding your head and whispering, "Mm...uh-huh...good point" as people talk.  But every once in a while, someone says something like, "Well, I just love this passage in Colossians because it really shows how if it weren't for Adam and Eve sinning in the garden we'd all be perfect and therefore we should never name children Adam or Eve or else that sin will be passed down to our families." 

You start with your "Mm...uh-huh...good p..." Wait.  What did she just say???  The air in the room suddenly gets thick as our collective mind starts yelling at the other people to say something to correct her, but no one wants to be that person!!  The lady stops speaking.  The room is silent.  No one is making eye contact with anyone.  The silence itself sends the appropriate message...hopefully.  The leader just goes, "Interesting.  WELL! Back to Colossians..."

5.  Christian Music

That moment when you hear Chris Tomlin's "Our God is Greater" or MercyMe's "I Can Only Imagine" on the radio and think, "UGH, I am so sick of this song!"...and then in the next breath feel that you must apologize to God.

6.  Bonfires

Every "retreat???" (thanks to Jonathan, I can never say that word the same again) ends with a bonfire.  The Bonfire always takes the same coarse.  The leaders asks people to come up and share their thoughts on the weekend.  Its quiet...people stare at the ground pretending to concentrate...you only hear the fire hissing and popping.  The leader encourages someone to be the first.  FINALLY the good girl gets up (that would be me...will someone ever release me from this burden???).  The Bonfire Traffic slowly pics up.  Some stories are touching, some stories are from the kids of that lady who won't name people Adam or Eve.  Then it happens.  Someone begins to cry as they talk.  The floodgates have opened.  Every one who gets up to speak is now sobbing.  Good Girl thinks of something else to say so she gets up again so that she can have her turn at a poignant moment (again, first hand experience!).  The crying only ends when the leaders start a song to end the night.  It happens.  every. time. 

My friend calls is "Cri-a-reah"...because its uncontrollable.  Tee hee.

7.  The Word "Agape"

We get taught one Greek work and we think we are theologians.  There are 3 different words for love in Greek.  Agape is friendship.  Eros is sexual.  We love to crack jokes like, "Oh my word, I LOVE Steven Curtis Chapman.  Well, I don't "EROS" him...HA!...I just super "AGAPE" him!!" 

I love my faith (agape!!).  I believe in the power of prayer.  I am raising my son to have a pure heart. I know no one cares if I don't tithe on Sunday or if I say something crazy in class.  And I adore worship music and I even love a good cry at a bonfire. 

But I love my faith more when I think of its quirks and the quirky people that make up a body of believers.  There are more...sooooo many more.  But let's save those for another post, shall we?  We wouldn't want to get a case of "Blog-a-reah"....not nearly as catchy.

"Car-ma"

This year is a big year for me.  Both of my children are in school.  "Huzzah!!!" (What? Rich old men from the 1910s don't own that word)

One of the benefits of my new-found freedom is being in the car by myself.  All alone.  With no one to pass a sippy cup to or to scream at for looking at their sister weird.

I do, however, find myself slipping into my imagination quite a bit more, with all that solitude in the car.  I've noticed this in three different ways...

1.  I am tempted to play chicken with people trying to cross the parking lot.  I see a pedestrian walking from his car to Home Depot, where I am also trying to go but have just pulled into the area.  He wants to cross the main thoroghfare into the store.  I, of course, stop and wave my hand for him to go.  I then, in my head, decide to ever so gently put my foot on the gas so that the man gives a start. I brake.  He stops.  Perhaps he misread me.  He waits.  I wave again for him to go, then proceed to rev the car again.  Oops!  We're caught in an accidental little dance!  Or...are...we.  Because, just as I laugh big enough for him to notice through my windshield, and wave for him to really go this time, I hit the gas again for just a second.  As I brake for the third time, the guy looks at me like I'm crazy.  And I really laugh and let him go.  I'm sure if I really did this someday the man would laugh too. 

That's what I think of your Darwin Fish

2.  I do major damage to the car ahead of me who disagrees with my views.  Driving down the road, I notice the guy in front of me has a bumper sticker...or eight...that basically read "I disagree with everything you believe in and mock you for your stupid morals and principles".  I, in real life, just keep driving.  BUT, in my head, I floor it and ram straight into the rear of the other car.  A Bruce Willis Movie-style explosion then takes place between those two cars.  In the flying debris, the smoke, and the fire, I come striding out toward the camera.  All sexy and confident..possibly wearing heals and black leather pants...never looking back...as that stupid offensive bumper sticker flutters to the ground at my feet.  Yeah!!

3.  I have imaginary conversations...out loud.  It could be rehearsing a tough talk I need to have with a child's teacher.  It could be a thought I had from my devotions that morning...suddenly I'm Beth Moore and talking to thousands of women as I quip about being a mom while striking to the core of their beings with my thoughts on Philipians 2.  I have...and this is the deep level of my insanity...even eulogized my loved ones...all of who are alive, disease-free, and have at least 40-60 good years left.  Okay, that last one is hard to admit. 

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME????  I don't think I knew how active my imagination really was.  I have had to channel that into my kids and now that they are not home, my brain can't shut it down.  So on I go, making up situations and talking out loud to myself.  If those things could make me money I could be one of those people who "make millions by working from home"....or "driving in your car".

I might be a crazy person, but...hey, its safer than texting.