Monthly Archives: October 2003

Head of Household

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As we spent a large amount of time at the post office while doing errands, we decided to get our moving packets so that we could start working on the (very minimal) paperwork. Well… we filled out a card for each of us (since we still haven’t legally hyphenated our names yet) and faced a conundrum when we got to the third card — the K_____-M_____ card. We had to put the head of household in for the name.

Jen: So like which one of us is the head of household?

Jon: I don’t know.

Jen: Should we like flip a coin or something?

Uh yeah… we put both of our names in. Jon might be the man of the house but I pay the bills and buy the stuff. (Jon however earns the money.) 🙂

My Root Canal

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I just got back from the endodontist and I’m really wondering why people complain so much about root canals. Braces were *MUCH* worse — I remember not being able to eat for a week when my braces were tightened. Granted, the novacaine shots weren’t fun, but it was *NOTHING* compared to getting my palatal expander off — and they didn’t give me ANYTHING for that!

I get to see my dentist about a crown tomorrow. I’m wishing that this all had waited until I had insurance, but they’re working with me on financing everything. If you want to contribute to the “Crown Jen’s Teeth With (Hopefully Not Too Many) Crowns” fund, let me know. 🙂

A Trip to See Cindy

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(Cindy, by the way, is the vet tech who fostered my little darlings.)

On Saturday, we went to Wal-Mart to get a cat crate. After having to go back and exchange it because the one we got had no side latches, we tested the cats in it. This resulted in two very angry pusses who fled, one to the underside of the bed and the other to his litterbox where he rolled around. Knowing that his next stop was the bed, Jon and I bathed the offending beast. (Hint: wear long sleeves — the cat latches on to them and not you. This is also Cullen who bends in ways that I’m not sure are even natural to cats.) After setting my little lemur (who used some *VERY* un-Christian language) in his womb to un-punk his fur, I set the carriers aside until this morning.

Well… I was setting towels and cat pads in the carriers this morning around 9:30 when I discovered that the door on the new crate was malfunctioning. Knowing that this was not a good thing, Jon and I raced to Wal-Mart where the clerk said, “I’m just going to give you your money back in case you can’t find anything you like.” Good plan because we couldn’t find anything in the pet section. Off we sped to the Wal-Mart in Heath… only to be turned around because they were doing road work in two places. Gnashing our teeth mightily because it was already 10 and the vet appointment was at 10:30 (in the town next door which is about 15 minutes by freeway), we took the freeway to Petmart and found a good carrier for $10 more than we paid at Wal-Mart. (Well… you do get what you pay for.) We got home at 10:15 and I called the vet to let them know that we’d be late.

OK… next task: get the cats crated! We got Cullen into his crate with very little trouble (translation: he went in willingly on the second try) and then settled on Finian. Finian (who is normally my sweet and mellow loverboy) put up a valiant fight. (The results of which can be seen in the picture below of my arm AFTER it was cleaned and the vet techs flushed it out with alcohol.) It took FIVE tries to get him in, with him slashing me on the third try and head-butting his cage door open on the fourth try as I was latching it. With my arm dripping blood, we carried the boys to the car and sped to the vet.

My cleaned up arm after we got home from the vet. When we were leaving, it was dripping blood.

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There’s Something About Jen

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Some have been wondering what is happening right now, why I’m nearly invisible on b4G, why I’m not blogging as much… Well… here are all the things concurrently running through my mind.

  • I have an appointment for a root canal on Tuesday. I have heard 18 horror stories and maybe 4 people saying that it’s no worse than a filling. If you had a somewhat pleasant experience, feel free to tell me. If it was the worst thing you’ve ever been through, refrain from telling me. I’m not all that freaked out about it.. well, except for the novacaine shot. They’re letting me bring my discman and I’ll probably chill to some Enya, hymns, or Loreena McKennitt. I’ve barely been eating because it hurts to do so, and I’m hoping that this kills the pain.
  • My job ended on Friday. The board of the museum caught wind of the fact that Jon got called to Minnesota and requested that Friday be my last day so that they can hire and train someone else. I’m not happy about it, but I’m not angry or bitter about it either. My boss’ hands were tied. I will be going there on Friday for my last paycheck and also to get the reference that my boss promised to write for me. I have my last paycheck earmarked for some things, so hopefully we can get by until Jon gets a call. We have the money to vet the cats tomorrow and to pay Jon’s life insurance premium. I’m almost afraid to say that maybe there will be a funeral or something (which means honorariums which equal grocery money) because we’ll get another rash of them.
  • The synod gave us the names of the 5 parishes where they want us to interview. There are 4 two-point parishes (a parish made up of two churches which share a pastor) and one regular parish. Jon and I have been looking at the congregational profiles and coming up with questions for him to ask. I’m thankful that the synod is covering the trip because there’s no way we could afford to interview otherwise. We have cat care for the boys (one of the first things we arranged) and we’ll figure out airport transportation later.
  • We’ve been doing so much with “youth” ministry the last two weekends. We had the common youth night last weekend and we bonded with the junior high as their temporary leaders. This weekend, we had the young adults fellowship, which was a blessing because we got to fellowship with people our own age. It’s been fun but really tiring.
  • I’m dealing with the fact that I’m sad to leave St. Paul’s. I never thought I’d be saying this in August 2002 — I’m sad to leave St. Paul’s. Granted, I had a really tough year but God has really used it to shape me and to help me see what He has in store for me. Without a summer of 10 funerals, I never would have learned how to minister to grieving people. Without being denied candidacy, I never would have understood how much some of my classmates had to sacrifice in order to follow God’s call. Without being unemployed, I probably wouldn’t have the correct words to say to someone in Jon’s new parish who has been jobless for awhile because of the economic slump.
  • I’m dealing (in a minor way) with the death of my great-aunt Jean, who died on September 25th of esophegial cancer. She was my grandfather’s older sister and his only remaining living sibling. The last time I saw her was 5 years ago when my uncle Loren (her late husband) was in a coma after heart surgery. (I remember very vividly going into the Cardiac Care Unit and seeing the machines breathe for him. That was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life and I remember turning on my heels and fleeing as fast as I could because I was so freaked out by it.) Two months later, she was in a near-fatal car crash. I think I mentally dealt with the possibility of her death at that point, so I’m not all that upset now. Still… I did have somewhat of a relationship with her and my family decided that I would be the heir of her china and silver, so I actually will have a tangible memory of her. (In my family, you inherit the fine china, crystal, and silver — they consider it pretentious to ask for it as a wedding present. This way, it’s passed down through the generations.) It also reminds me that my grandfather is very mortal and could go anytime.

    • Such is my life. Welcome to it.

    Thankfulness

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    In honor of the Thanksgiving celebrations of my Canadian brothers and sisters, I thought I’d play off of Richard (who has a *STUNNING* new layout created by the lovely Rachel) and his latest post.

    Last November, I finally broke down and attended a small group at church after avoiding them. I was talking with our then congregational council president and she imparted a piece of wisdom that has been really meaningful this year. She said:

    I Thessalonians 5:18 does not read “for everything give thanks.” It reads “in everything give thanks.” You may not be able to give thanks for everything but you can praise God in all your circumstances.

    She is so right — we may not give thanks for our circumstances; but we can *always* give thanks while in them. I can give thanks even after losing my job. I can give thanks after beng denied candidacy. I can give thanks even after burying a close family member. Why? Because the God I serve is a God of justice and mercy and a God who has a purpose for everything under Heaven. That alone is worth some major thanksgiving.

    Pregnancy

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    Reading about this on several pages brought back memories of college. (The story was about the Vatican spreading lies that condoms don’t prevent the spread of AIDS. I understand that they are against birth control but… their idiotic words are going to cost people their lives because they’ll have unprotected sex. But anyway…) At UC Santa Cruz, they assumed that we were all having free sex 24/7 (because that’s all college kids do, right?) and as a result, women going to the health center would frequently be asked if they should be tested for pregnancy. If I had been sexually active in college, this would have been OK. However, I wasn’t and it was annoying that whatever bloodwork they did on me included a pregnancy test.

    During my first year of college, I was always sick with something having to do with my upper or lower respiratory system. I got bronchitis at least quarterly and it frequently developed into walking pneumonia. That spring, I went to the health center with a sore throat. They did a throat culture and told me to come back in a few days for my lab results. I came back a few days later and checked in. The nurse called “Jennifer” and nobody else in the waiting room looked up. I went in and the following dialogue ensued.

    Nurse: “OK.. your pregnancy test came back negative. Now why do you think you’re pregnant?”
    Ummm yeah… they gave me a THROAT CULTURE. A swab of cotton against the back of my throat is a pregnancy test. OhhhhhK….
    Me: “You gave me a throat culture.”
    Nurse: “You mean you’re not Jennifer _______???”
    Me: “No… I’m Jennifer M________.”
    Nurse: “Oh no! You’re the wrong Jennifer!”

    They got the correct Jennifer in and I guess they counselled her on birth control or something. (My throat culture came out negative.)