tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-217609202024-03-07T23:33:57.810-06:00the (mis)adventures of jennaworst case scenarioJennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.comBlogger789125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-60252827061282446742011-01-05T23:52:00.001-06:002011-01-05T23:52:08.445-06:00you should get one of theseyou can get an ipad for free from this site<br><a href="http://giveaway.ipadsupply.net/?5Xh=NpiHc">http://giveaway.ipadsupply.net/?5Xh=NpiHc</a> I don't know how long<br>they're gonna give them away but I got mine. I was skeptical about<br>this whole idea of free stuff but this site is for real, you just have<br>to send them back a review and then you can keep it.<p><br>Sent from my iPadJennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-26762921596890916662008-04-28T12:35:00.007-05:002008-04-28T15:15:58.060-05:00I HAVE MOVED!Joey bought me <a href="http://www.jennawoestman.com">www.jennawoestman.com</a>, so that's where I am now! <span style="font-weight: bold;">This blog is now defunct</span>.<br /><br />Please update your RSS feed (which, as you should know by now, stands for Really Super Sweet feed) to this: <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ThemisadventuresOfJenna"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">http://feeds.feedburner.com/ThemisadventuresOfJenna</span></a><br /><br />My new blog isn't totally set up the way it will be eventually, but it's good enough for who it's for right now and it'll get better as I figure out how to do stuff. Mostly Joey has to do everything right now because I'm not real quick on the technological draw.<br /><br />So...go to <a href="http://www.jennawoestman.com">jennawoestman.com</a> and all your wildest dreams will come true.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-37299001271966354372008-04-25T16:33:00.001-05:002008-04-25T16:33:11.016-05:00Sister = JerkI just got off the phone with Sister.<br><br>"I learned something in my counseling class," she said smugly.<br><br>"Oh?" I asked.<br><br>"Yes. I learned that you are not codependent on The Kid, because if that would me that he is dependent on you for survival and that's not true at all," she said.<br> <br>"HEY!" I bellowed.<br><br>"You are <i>counter</i>dependant. That's the one that means that you require The Kid for your daily sustenance," I could tell she was pleased with herself.<br><br> "Whatever, The Kid needs me," I mumbled.<br><br>Then she had to go shopping with Grandma or something, so she hung up and went to hang out with everybody cool that's in Indiana...except for me and Joey. Oh, and Brother and Laura, they're not in Indiana neithers.<br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-58183908713591752102008-04-25T08:45:00.001-05:002008-04-25T08:45:32.720-05:00We Overslept.My poor husband. He's absolutely exhausted and there's nothing I can do about it! Last night he had signed us up to go to a philosophy lecture at DTS (he said "I want to share my educational experience with you!" so how could I resist?) and it we didn't <i>leave</i> the school until 7:50 p.m.; I had originally thought this thing would by over by 7. Clearly I had underestimated how many strange/annoying questions certain DTS students (my husband not included) could ask.<br> <br>We got home and got ready to go for a walk with the dog, who was climbing the walls just like me, and just as we were walking out the door poor Joey said, "I am <i>so tired</i>. My eye has been twitching for four days. All I want to do is go on this walk, watch an episode of MacGyver, go to bed by 10:30 and then sleep in through spin class in the morning. Is that OK?"<br> <br>Well, I <i>did</i> want to go to spin class, but not at the expense of Joey's sanity...because that would be ultimately more frustrating than missing spinning.<br><br>So we watched MacGyver, got ready for bed and read for "nine minutes, we can read for nine minutes because, you see, it's 10:21. I want to go to bed at <i>10:30</i> not 10:21." He wanted to make sure I was using a literal hermeneutic, I guess, and not interpreting him metaphorically.<br> <br>At 10:30 we set our books down, synchronized our alarm clocks for 6:15 a.m. so Joey would have plenty of time to get to work since he was filming a class the next morning, switched them on and went to sleep. Just before drifting off, I prayed that Joey would be well-rested and that his eye would stop twitching.<br> <br><font size="4"><b>We awoke this morning at 7:45.</b></font><br><br>Somehow both of our alarm clocks were set correctly, turned on, and had the time set correctly and <i>neither alarm went off</i>.<br><br>"HOLY COW," I gasped, shooting upright in bed and looking at the time. "JOEY, it's 7:45!!"<br> <br>He sat up faster than I've ever seen him move and the two of us began rushing around like our tails were on fire. We left the house by 7:53, miraculously, with his lunch thrown together, my makeup bag, and hopefully everything else we needed for the day.<br> <br>I slapped my makeup on the car (probably applied too much) as we drove, shoved Joey out of the car at DTS and zoomed over to work.<br><br>Somehow, I made it in the door at 8:15...half an hour flat after I woke up. (My hair looks seriously bad.) The good news is, though, that on the drive in Joey said "Hey, my eye's not twitching anymore!"<br> <br>"Maybe God wanted to give you some extra sleep? Clearly we did everything right to avoid oversleeping and can't explain why our alarms didn't go off..." I pondered.<br><br>What a great way to start the weekend - getting 9 hours of sleep on Thursday night. Oy.<br> <br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-50298851155733134702008-04-24T16:33:00.000-05:002008-12-12T22:06:29.407-06:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SBD9AE1lrbI/AAAAAAAAA7E/wE5Gt0Rs0AQ/s1600-h/Picture-794734.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SBD9AE1lrbI/AAAAAAAAA7E/wE5Gt0Rs0AQ/s320/Picture-794734.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192928548098518450" /></a></p>Look - a picture of Joey and me!<br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-26359143089376199122008-04-24T14:29:00.002-05:002008-04-24T14:42:11.991-05:00I was irrationally tired last night. It was the kind of tired where what I <i>mean</i> to say and what I <i>actually</i> say gets short circuited and winds up being either:<br />a.) confusing<br />b.) wicked strange<br /><br />To only add fodder to my already delusional state, Joey and I were discussing the new Heaven and new Earth that we'd been talking about in Sunday School. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Never discuss Eschatology when extremely tired.</span> It's just not a good idea. Here's a snippet of our conversation last night, sometime after 10:30 p.m.<br /><br />"I think what I want to do most of all is to go back to that Panda Breeding Center in China that we saw when we were there. I want to see the Pandas again and hold a baby one....it would be like the best day of my life," I sighed.<br /><br />"Better than the day we got married?" Joey had me trapped.<br /><br />"Oh. Um. Not quite <i>that</i> good," I hedged.<br /><br />After a short pause, I thought of something that was potentially even better.<br /><br />"So, when we are living in the new Earth do you think we'll have jobs? Like, can I be a caretaker of baby Pandas?" I asked Joey.<br /><br />"Um, I don't know. Maybe...you'd probably like that a lot." Joey replied.<br /><br />"I think that in the new Earth someday, we won't be worshiping God 24/7," I said, almost asleep at this point.<br /><br />"Oh?" Joey asked. I had piqued his interest with this one.<br /><br />"No...sometimes people have to be taking care of the Pandas..." I mumbled.<br /><br />I didn't think anything of this remark, mostly because I was almost asleep, until I heard Joey muttering, "I need my own blog or something so I can post these kinds of things...but nobody would believe me anyway."<br /><br />"What?" I woke up a little bit.<br /><br />"Sometimes people have to be taking care of the Pandas?!" Joey asked, incredulously, "You are way tired, that's like the craziest thing I ever heard!"<br /><br />He's right, you know.<br /><br />Never mind that in the new Earth Pandas will very likely not be endangered anymore and therefore won't need to be taken care of by humans, but it's hard to explain that to an irrationally tired person who was just discussing Eschatology.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-639066161517267372008-04-23T12:20:00.001-05:002008-04-23T12:20:07.064-05:00The First Annual Jenna Loves Joey DayFor the record, I love Joey <i>every</i> day. But today...today is special for no other reason than that he wasn't (really) expecting anything today. <br><br>About a month ago, Laura said "I have this great idea for the boys!" She proceeded to describe her great idea - which was/is truly great - and that was to hang signs and posters all over DTS outside the boys' classrooms, by the mail box, outside the chapel, etc. A week ago we got together and made signs while Joey studied. He thought we were just hanging out but he was wrong. <br> <br>We each made plenty of signs and then hid them all over Laura's house to dry, hoping that Danny - her husband - wouldn't find them. Laura snapped some pictures of our creativeness on my camera. I'd post the pictures, but I think Joey took the camera out of my purse because it's not in there. (At least I hope that's where it is.)<br> <br>Laura had bought a ton of sidewalk chalk which we used to make the posters, and we thought it would be fun to chalk the sidewalks at DTS. But we thought we might need to ask/tell the DTS Police before we did it so that we wouldn't get shot or anything...those guys are totally armed. So on Monday morning, I put in a call to the DTS Police who sent me to Student Services who, several hours later, told me that no, chalking the sidewalks is not appropriate, nor is posting any signs for our husbands because it's too public. They didn't really want to start that and then wind up having to clean things up all the time, and I can see their position. DTS is, after all, a very serious institution of higher education. <sigh><br> <br>So...there we were. Kiboshed. And after almost a month of planning! The original plan was scrapped and Laura and I decided to do our own things for our respective husbands. Since I'd contacted Student Services and they knew who I was (and who my husband is!), it seemed like a pretty bad idea to go ahead and do it anyway, especially since that would more than likely <i>shame</i> Joey instead of encourage him...what with me knowing it wasn't allowed and all. Plus I didn't want him getting sat down in Dr. Garippa's office because his wife was out of line. <br> <br><b>Plan B: chalk the sidewalks around our apartment complex (Joey was riding his bike to school today) and post the signs intended for his classrooms along his route. Leave several legal surprises for him at DTS.</b><br> <br>left the house late last evening under the guise of taking Henry outside but I was really going to write little lovey-dovey chalk messages on the sidewalks. JOEY (the snitch!) came out to find me! I was real mad at him for ruining the surprise and sent him back in the house immediately. (He had also found the pictures on my camera earlier...)<br> <br>I set my alarm 7 minutes early this morning and RAN to the Dumpster where I taped up a huge sign, and then ran out to Shady Brook where I stuck 3 signs in the grass at intervals down the road, one for each word of "I Love Joey". Then I ran back inside like nothing had happened and was relieved to find Joey still asleep.<br> <br>At 6:45 I left the house in the car, sped to DTS where I put a bouquet of balloons outside his office door and did a couple of other non-public and OK by Student Services things that I'm not sure he's found yet, so I'm not going to tell you. Hopefully all his coworkers, at least, think he's the man and know that his wife loves him since the entire student body doesn't get to be in on the surprise. <i>C'est la vie</i>.<br> <br>I figure I'll do something like this annually...but not on the same date. Gotta keep Joey on his toes and all. <br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-66285780667237650092008-04-22T13:17:00.004-05:002008-12-12T22:06:30.340-06:00Meet our friends!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SA4shk1lrXI/AAAAAAAAA6s/3Sba_a7g4nI/s1600-h/Picture+057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SA4shk1lrXI/AAAAAAAAA6s/3Sba_a7g4nI/s320/Picture+057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192136375740509554" border="0" /></a>From left to right we have: Casey & Rachel (and Mikylah but she's not born yet), Me & Joey, Laura Wilkerson & Josh, Laura Stiller & Danny, Becca & Luke.<br /><br />As far as doggies go, there's Merlin, Henry (who is not facing the camera) and Riley.<br /><br />We met at White Rock for some Frisbee and hanging out on Sunday and, in the course of playing Frisbee, Laura W threw the Frisbee to Laura S and the wind caught it....it wound up <span style="font-style: italic;">BOINK</span>ing into a mid-life-crisis-type-guy's Corvette. He was standing right there, too, and he looked NONE TO HAPPY at poor Laura S when she went to retrieve the Frisbee from the ground. She apologized nicely, too, as all the rest of us ran away like five year olds.<br /><br />Later, as we were getting ready to go to see the ducks, I said to Laura W, "Smile!" It was <span style="font-style: italic;">extremely convenient</span> that she was standing right in front of the Corvette when I took her picture...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SA4vCU1lrYI/AAAAAAAAA60/t2hxB8ThZFw/s1600-h/Picture+058.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SA4vCU1lrYI/AAAAAAAAA60/t2hxB8ThZFw/s320/Picture+058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192139137404480898" border="0" /></a>I'm probably going to get in trouble for this one.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-2414963684894278392008-04-22T12:42:00.002-05:002008-04-22T16:17:43.027-05:00Baby PandasI found this <a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/chengdu/2008/04/panda_video_draft.html?ps=bb1">wicked cute video</a> of some rolly-polly pandas on NPR's website. I recommend watching it as soon as possible. I've watched it twice in the last half an hour...it seems to have some kind of addictive quality to it.<br /><br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IoIwegzzFsA&hl=en"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IoIwegzzFsA&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed></object>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-21864324927337896492008-04-22T10:22:00.003-05:002008-12-12T22:06:30.835-06:00Joey's New ToyJoey has been saving his pennies from selling off the stockpile of paintball equipment. His goal was to purchase a paintball pistol with said money.<br /><br />However.<br /><br />Joel Wires got a new lens for his camera and Joey became monstrously jealous. He considered the stash of cash he had in his drawer and thought to himself <span style="font-style: italic;">If I didn't buy a paintball pistol, which I really won't use that much anyway, I have enough money to buy a lens like Joel's!<br /><br /></span>So that's why, as I was in the bathroom plucking my eyebrows, he leaned against the door and said, "I think I won't get that pistol after all. I think I'll buy a lens for my camera."<br /><br />"OH?" I asked, secretly pleased that he wouldn't be buying that pistol after all...I don't like guns...<br /><br />"Yeah, I think it will be more awesome. Plus I have enough money."<br /><br />And with that, his mind was made up and he purchased his lens on Amazon.com the very next day. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It looks like this:</span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SA4EDE1lrWI/AAAAAAAAA6k/4Tlz-jYIB2o/s1600-h/41Z7zRMGB7L._SL500_AA280_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SA4EDE1lrWI/AAAAAAAAA6k/4Tlz-jYIB2o/s320/41Z7zRMGB7L._SL500_AA280_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192091871289388386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">And it's called this:</span> <span class="asinTitle"><span id="btAsinTitle">Nikon 50mm f/1.8D AF Nikkor Lens<br /><br />Congratulations on your new toy, honey!<br /></span></span>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-77281730628997324352008-04-22T09:36:00.001-05:002008-04-22T09:36:53.355-05:00The Monday Night RandomsMonday, unfortunately, is ironing night. <b>I hate ironing</b>, it makes me want to poke my eye out. Joey knows this, too, because I always make sure he knows how much I hate it before I dive on it...some weeks I even ask him to set up the ironing board so that I'm roped into doing it. You know, once the ironing board is up you can't very well just take it down without ironing because that would be lame.<br> <br>I decided Monday night would be ironing night a couple weeks ago. I wasn't doing it on Saturday, my previous ironing day, and that was causing major pile-up problems and Joey could find himself without his favorite shirt, which we cannot have.<br> <br>So I ironed. I also called my Pops to tell him that it was 84 degrees in my house and I was going to die from heat exhaustion. (Never let it be said that I was not an overly dramatic person. I think, actually, that Sister may be worse. I'm not sure how this is possible since Mom is the least dramatic person I know, but it is.) In relating to Pops my activities of the day, something I did - or hadn't done - caught his horror and he said "OH! Jenna! Don't you know better?"<br> <br>Of course I probably did at one point but, as Joey said, Pops may have tried to teach me something (like how to change the oil, for example) and I either forgot really fast or categorically refused to remember it. It's really not Pops' fault. Or Mom's, for that matter.<br> <br>Anyway, after about 10 minutes Pops decided that he'd probably better talk to Joey in order to offer him some comic relief (from me, presumably) and the two of them discussed what's wrong with me for awhile (I'm getting sick of catered lunches at work and wish I could take my own - Pops feels no sorrow for me and neither does Joey) before moving on to more enlightening topics like Dad's cows and the condition of their grass.<br> <br>After finishing the ironing and talking to Pops on the phone (he left to go check on the cows' grass with Mom, who is scared of cows) I moved on to editing Joey's paper for his New Testament Introduction class taught by Hoehner. It was one of those 10-pagers and he was arguing the authenticity of 2nd Peter and making a case for Petrine authorship vs. pseudepigraphal or pseudonymous authorship. It was actually quite interesting, but I used up almost an entire pen's worth of ink on the first three pages. Good thing I went to Bible college I guess.<br> <br>So that was my Monday night. <br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-36884613139573806642008-04-21T09:56:00.003-05:002008-04-21T10:09:23.373-05:00My Brother Andrew: Smarter Than YouI called my Pops last night to tell him that Charles Ryrie was at our church on Sunday. (It's not every day you have the guy who wrote [notes in] your Bible at your church neithers.) He was baptizing his grandson who apparently goes to our church.<br /><br />Anyways, in the course of the conversation, turns out Pops was in Ames on Saturday watching my brother Andrew (he's like some kind of rocket scientist basically) and his senior engineering team fly their helicopter for their final project. His project is sponsored by some big aerospace firm, but Andrew says I can't tell you who they are because they wouldn't want to be associated with the likes of me. This helicopter, apparently, was made 10 years ago and never had a successful flight until <b>my brother Andrew</b> (ta da!) stepped on the scene.<br /><br />Andrew and his team didn't think the helicopter would hover but, as you can see from this video that Pops took (you can hear him crowing with jubilation about 1:15 into it) the helicopter clearly hovers. Oh, that's my brother holding the chopper thingys.<br /><br /><embed id="VideoPlayback" style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" flashvars="" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=5432292578027686296&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed><br /><br />So Dad said that every time the helicopter malfunctioned, Andrew was the go-to guy. He was like flying 500 mpg giving orders and throwing parts here and there...pretty amazing stuff. Pops even said that one time before the problem was diagnosed, some parts of it <i>fell apart in Andrew's hands</i> (imagine my Pops' dramatic retelling, complete with extreme intonations and gasps) but Andrew was able to fix them with the greatest ease, once they drove to Urbandale to pick up a part that was $1.50.<br /><br />I'd totally have been there if I didn't live in the Texas. This is the time of year when it's lame to live 732 miles from home, particularly when it involves younger brothers being awesome. But this is why I have a blog so I can post this kind of stuff on it and pretend like I was there.<br /><br />But to hear Pops tell it (which is almost as good as being there), Andrew basically saved the day, passed college and brokered world peace, all in one afternoon.<br /><br />Good thing he's <i>my</i> brother. I'm wicked proud of him.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-87657557346904017142008-04-18T10:36:00.002-05:002008-04-18T11:09:04.272-05:00Two Years With JesusMom reminded me this morning that today marks two years since my Grandpa Richardson, her daddy, went to be with Jesus. That makes this is one of those happy/sad days that makes me want to remember him. <br /><br />Grandpa was a extra-special kind of grandpa, the kind who was a whiz at rhymes and silly poems, liked grape juice with ice in the afternoons and watched Jeopardy every day. He also was a pastor for over 50 years and had shelves upon shelves of commentaries that were well-used and smelled like old books. I have some of those books on the shelves in my home, and I always remember him when I see them.<br /><br />Since I miss my grandpa, I thought I'd share some of my favorite Grandpa memories with you.<br /><br />When I was about five my dad took me on a special trip. We got to go along with Grandpa to a small church somewhere in the boonies of Iowa to pick up a player piano for Grandpa to refinish. It seemed like the longest car ride of my entire life, and when we finally got to the church to pick up the piano, it was in horrible condition. I worried that maybe my grandpa had met his match and wouldn't be able to fix this one. But sure enough, he did. It's in the family room at my parents house right now...and when all us kids go home we put rolls and sing "The Old Spinning Wheel" with gusto.<br /><br />Grandpa used to amuse us kids after dinner with silly poems and stories. My sister's favorite is "There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly" but my personal favorite is "You Must Pay The Rent". I think Aunt Ginny got Grandpa on video doing "You Must Pay The Rent" (napkin and all!) but I'm not sure about the fly one. In any case, nobody could tell goofy stories or make up silly poems like my grandpa!<br /><br />Grandpa had the coolest hair. Sometimes, if we were very, very good, he'd let us comb it and put barrettes all over it. I can't believe he let us do that, but that just goes to show how very patient my grandpa was. I'm not sure that he let anyone photograph him like that, though. It was my favorite thing to do when I was a little girl. My cousins and I called it "Messing Grandpa Up," and that's exactly what he looked like when we were done with him.<br /><br />When Grandpa and Grandma moved to Cedar Rapids, we used to see them once a week. We'd mow the lawn (Grandma would always come out to make sure we didn't miss any spots) and when we were done, grandma had glasses of ice-cold juice waiting for us. Grandpa liked grape juice and cranberry juice. If mom was late to pick us up, we'd sit there and watch Jeopardy with them (or Wheel of Fortune if it was getting really late) and Grandpa always knew the right answers.<br /><br />Every year for our birthdays after they moved to Cedar Rapids, Grandpa and Grandma would either make us a special meal, or take us out for Taco Bell or something. I always thought it was cute that no matter where we went, Grandpa and Grandma always split a meal. Always.<br /><br />I remember the very last sermon Grandpa preached - it was at Galilee Baptist Church. Can't remember how old I was, but I remember being there and wearing a skirt. Over the years different people have given me old tapes of Grandpa preaching and I love listening to them. One one tape he sings, too, (must have been special music that day maybe?) and I'm really glad somebody had the foresight to record it! <br /><br />When I was in college on break, Grandpa and I were in the family room at my parents' house. I was studying and I think he was watching Jeopardy. Greek had been giving me a terrible time and I was so frustrated that I couldn't even remember some simple words. I was sitting there on the floor, tapping my pencil fiercely against my notebook when I suddenly burst out, "Grandpa! I am losing it, I can't remember the Greek word for 'church' right now!" Grandpa sat there quietly for a few moments and I thought he hadn't heard me. But out of the blue he said quietly, "It's εκκλησία." Of course it was.<br /><br />As Grandpa started having more trouble with his Parkinson's, he didn't talk as much and he didn't joke as much...but we sure knew Grandpa loved us. Daddy would always ask Grandpa to pray when we saw them for dinner, and I always loved to hear my Grandpa pray. Somehow when he was talking to God, even as he became more of an observer rather than a participant, he blossomed. It was clear that Grandpa loved Jesus and somehow, talking to Him was the easiest thing he could do.<br /><br />My very last memory of my Grandpa is on Easter Sunday, 2006. My whole family was there, the Johnsons, Aunt Mary and Gerry, Ginny and Jim...it was fun; more people than I had expected to come for Easter lunch! Grandpa was quiet that day, but when Daddy asked him to pray, he prayed so fervently and clearly that it brought tears to my eyes.<br /><br />On that next Tuesday, Mom called to say that Grandpa had gone to be with Jesus.<br /><br />My Grandpa's funeral was a celebration of a life spent serving Jesus. Someone sang "Finally Home" and it was a great reminder of where Grandpa is - with Jesus! There was a slideshow at the end of the service...someone had found one of those old tapes of Grandpa singing special music and had it playing behind pictures of Grandpa with his children and grandchildren. My favorite part was in the middle of the song on the tape when Grandpa forgot the words he was supposed to sing next. It was nice to have a giggle and remember what fun Grandpa was.<br /><br />I definitely miss my sweet Grandpa, but I'm thankful that he's "Finally Home".Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-67964728037280320732008-04-17T11:46:00.004-05:002008-04-17T12:51:26.629-05:00Golf.Joey and I pretty much think golf is poke-my-eye-out boring, but we are willing to make one exception. Every year we are given free tickets to the Byron Nelson, a PGA Tournament in Las Colinas, and we make a day of it.<br /><br />Last year we followed Phil Mikkelsen around and watched him lob a golf ball all the way from the green over to a house where some people, who were quite intoxicated, were yelling "Philllllll, hey PHILLLLL, throw your golf ball over here!" I thought he was lucky he didn't break a window.<br /><br />We tried to dress all nice and cute because, naturally, that's what one does when one goes to a PGA thing, right?<br /><br />WRONG. Those golfer guys walk <i>fast</i>.<br /><br />This year we are doing several things differently. We are wearing sunblock (we got a little pinkish last year), we are taking hats and sunglasses (it's easier to watch the ball if you're not squinting into the glaring sunlight), and we are wearing extremely comfortable shoes. We're bringing my camera. We're also checking tee-times before we get there so we'll know who we want to follow around.<br /><br />Tiger, unfortunately, won't be there so we'll have to pick somebody else...hopefully we can recognize a name or two. But since we know nothing about golf, I wouldn't hold your breath.<br /><br />The only thing that's a bummer is that I somehow got entered in a drawing and won VIP passes, but they can only be used on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. We definitely don't like golf enough to miss work just to do whatever people with VIP passes for a PGA thingy get to do.<br /><br />Poor Joey, I told him I had won VIP passes for days we weren't available and he's said, "Woah, cool! What could we have done with them?"<br /><br />Honestly, I didn't even look at the perks involved since I knew we wouldn't be able to use them. So I guess I'll never know how much ritz we could have had. It's probably better this way. We never win <span style="font-style: italic;">anything</span>, and here I win something I didn't even know I had been entered for and we can't even use it. Isn't that just my luck.<br /><br />I was just handed my free tickets (good for any day of the tournament, fortunately!) which is why I am posting about something that won't happen for a week. I'm done now.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-54755133228945554392008-04-16T12:21:00.005-05:002008-12-12T22:06:31.174-06:00Why Pandas Are The Best Animal EverCheck out these cute little babies bottle-feeding themselves at the Chengdu Panda Breeding and Research Center, where I've actually been. (And paid $7 to hold a panda who didn't really like me much.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SAY1tV_NIcI/AAAAAAAAA6c/YJkV1MRsHo8/s1600-h/pandas_on_back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SAY1tV_NIcI/AAAAAAAAA6c/YJkV1MRsHo8/s320/pandas_on_back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189894673703707074" border="0" /></a>I love panda.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-11963190008740364252008-04-16T09:21:00.001-05:002008-04-16T09:21:24.196-05:00Last night Joey said to me, "I think it's your turn to pray tonight."<br><br>"OK," I said. I prayed about his upcoming papers, the end of the semester and several other things before I moved on to my sunburn. <br> <br>"God...my sunburn hurts <i>a lot</i> and I'm getting really sick of it. Please heal it quickly. I really learned my lesson this time, I will never use expired sunblock again and I will always be more careful when going out in the sun because I hate being reddish-purple and hurting every time I move."<br> <br>I stopped here and realized how whiny I was starting to sound. <i>There are Christians who are being persecuted for their faith right now and you're whining to God about your measly sunburn</i>, I chastised myself. I was starting to feel a little guilty for being so selfish.<br> <br>"Thank you that I'm starting to feel a little better," I continued. "And thank you that it's not worse. I'm really looking forward to when you heal my skin enough that it starts to peel...although if it's really itchy you will probably hear from me again about this."<br> <br>I finished my prayer up shortly and as soon as I was done Joey said, "You do realize that you just whined at God."<br><br>"I know..." I said, "But it's not like He wasn't aware that I was thinking whiny thoughts in my head. I was just being honest."<br> <br>So I realized two very important things last night:<br><ul><li>God actually does want to hear me when I'm whiny because He already knows my heart. (I often tell myself not to bug God with little things like sunburns, but I need to remember that He cares!)</li> <li>I'm a wimp. I don't like my sunburn and I'm quick to tell God that and I'm not even suffering anything major like some Christians are. It reminds me to pray for them, actually, which is why I'm putting a posty-note on my monitor about that very thing right now.<br> </li></ul> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-38306580853922539452008-04-16T08:21:00.003-05:002008-04-16T10:08:40.632-05:00Dear Friends of The Kid:It has come to my attention that you think that if I were to die by sting-ray barb and it were to get caught on film, I would most likely want have it shown on TV <span style="font-style: italic;">post mortem</span>. First of all, I'm afraid of water and would probably never be caught dead swimming around anywhere in water deep enough for sting-rays. Second of all, I think it's weird that you're sitting around talking about death by sting-rays at lunch. But whatever, you're all in college and get away with stuff like that.<br /><br />However.<br /><br />If<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>I were to die by <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">panda attack</span> (pandas are my favorite animal) and it happened to get caught on film, then The Kid could totally sell it to whatever media outlets he wants and make his millions. (No setting me up to die by panda attack now, The Kid. That's just plain mean. I haven't even made you an uncle yet, so no killing me off for awhile.)<br /><br />May your next lunch conversation be more appetizing.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />JennaJennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-90450096971684410642008-04-15T09:55:00.002-05:002008-12-12T22:06:31.717-06:00Adding Insult To InjuryThis morning, my hairdryer melted. Not at the end of my hair-drying ritual, but right at the beginning. So here I sit; red and crispy with half curly, half fluffed out hair. Joey said we'd stop by the store and buy a new hairdryer on the way home tonight.<br /><br />POOR ME.<br /><br />Additionally, after I went home early yesterday to slap on loads of aloe I checked my sunblock. Sure enough, the expiration date was 4/2008. So throw out all your old sunblock, everyone! I am never, ever getting burned like this again. Me and my sun hat (yes, I have a sun hat - don't make fun) are going to be pals this summer.<br /><br />But here's some pictures of me with my sunburn on Sunday. Joey took them for your general amusement.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SATB6V_NIaI/AAAAAAAAA6M/XoXVue5-4ik/s1600-h/hydrating.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SATB6V_NIaI/AAAAAAAAA6M/XoXVue5-4ik/s320/hydrating.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189485878716473762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SATB6l_NIbI/AAAAAAAAA6U/VpyPtsDwsrY/s1600-h/knees.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/SATB6l_NIbI/AAAAAAAAA6U/VpyPtsDwsrY/s320/knees.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189485883011441074" border="0" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-73296378664899832702008-04-14T09:42:00.001-05:002008-04-14T09:42:17.389-05:00When people gasp in shock and horror because of your <a href="http://jennawoestman.blogspot.com/2008/04/kentucky-fried.html">sunburn</a> as you approach, it's time to go home. Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-90279522704752754482008-04-14T08:14:00.000-05:002008-04-14T08:15:02.133-05:00Kentucky FriedOn Saturday, Laura and I went canoing. You'll hear more about that later, after I get the pictures from her. But first I absolutely most post about the sunburn because it hurts like a banshee.<br><br>So in April, what Iowan thinks about sunblock? Not really me. Plus it was a cool, breezy day and not what I'd construe as "DANGER!" weather. I brought along last year's sunblock, though, and Laura applied it liberally to her neck, which was already a little crispy from last weekend at her brother's baseball came.<br> <br>Honestly, I didn't think I'd get a sunburn. <i>It's only April</i>, for crying out lout, it's still snowing back home! We hit the water at 11:00 and stopped for lunch about 12:30. At that point, I decided I should put some sunblock on, so I slathered myself up but good. Laura did the same.<br> <br>We hit the water again at 1:30ish and canoed like madwomen until 3:00 when we reached the end of our 10 miles.<br><br>I realized at that point that I might be a <i>little</i> crispy. We loaded up and drove back to Dallas, which was about an hour and a half away. By the time we got home, I knew that I was <i>a lot</i> crispy. My poor husband had spent the entire time I was enjoying myself (and getting burned) in the library working on a paper, so as his reward he wanted to watch Star Wars Episode Three. I made it through half before I just couldn't stay awake anymore, so we went to bed.<br> <br>I woke up at 2:30 feeling like every nerve in my body had been lit on fire. I also discovered that I had excessively swollen knees. (Swollen knees from a sunburn?!) I hobbled to the bathroom and applied another round of Aloe lotion, drank some water, and threw myself back into bed, moaning slightly loud because I wanted Joey to wake up and feel sorry for me. (I'm not kidding; I really did this. He didn't hear me at all, either.)<br> <br>By the time the alarm went off at 8:00, not only were my knees swollen, by my calves and thighs as well. <br><br>"I...I think I'm going to die." I moaned. I hobbled over to the bathroom again to apply more aloe and drink more water.<br> <br>"You seem like you're in distress," Joey said, with quite a bit of concern, "I'm going to call my mom for medical advice."<br><br>So he did. I was told to take 800 mg of ibuprofen at first, then 400 mg every 6 hours. Unfortunately, I misheard Joey's directions and thought I was supposed to take 600 mg every four hours. (Joey discovered my mistake at about 9:00, after I had OD'd myself several times. I blame it on the sunburn confusion in my brain.) I was also to put cool washcloths on my knees to attempt to reduce the swelling.<br> <br>At about 11:00, I decided I needed to call Laura to make sure she was OK. She didn't answer, but about 45 minutes later I got a call back. It went something like this:<br><br>Laura: OH MY GOSH are you DYING?!<br> Me: Yes, are you too?<br>Laura: My knees...are your knees swollen?<br>Me: Yes they are; I can barely walk.<br><br>And so on and so forth. This was the part where I started to wonder if my sunblock had become inert over the winter because I know Laura put way more on than I did. And the parts of me where I applied sunblock are, oddly enough, the most burned and swollen parts of me.<br> <br>"You are like Kentucky Fried Chicken, only you're Kentucky Fried Jenna," Joey said to me yesterday evening as I applied more aloe and moaned about my swollen legs.<br><br>I think he hit the nail on the head. Sorry Laura, we totally should have used your sunblock. Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-37027713325094433782008-04-11T08:51:00.002-05:002008-12-12T22:06:32.083-06:00My Friday CravingI want one of these today.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/R_9tAo2wcJI/AAAAAAAAA6E/5JTWUuQL7Yk/s1600-h/250px-Pomegranate03_edit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rd9qb2D66G8/R_9tAo2wcJI/AAAAAAAAA6E/5JTWUuQL7Yk/s320/250px-Pomegranate03_edit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187985153488613522" border="0" /></a>Joey bought me one once because every week at the market I'd look at them longingly. He'd read my mind and suggest that we buy one, but I'd turn him down because they're expensive. Finally, after months of suggesting it, he just put one in the cart when I wasn't looking.<br /><br />Unfortunately, now I really, <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> like pomegranates. I mean, I liked them before, but now I love them. And I want to eat one today.<br /><br />Mmmmm....they taste like summer.<br /><br />The only bad part is you sort of look like a farmer when you are munching on the juice pods because they have seeds. So you'll munch, munch, munch and then have to spit them all out. Etc, etc, etc. I would be completely uncomfortable eating one of these little beauties in public. Joey thinks they're creepy, what with the seeds and all. <br /><br />Sometimes I think <span style="font-style: italic;">he's</span> creepy.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-91279367043429108012008-04-09T16:21:00.001-05:002008-04-09T16:21:21.033-05:00It's Wednesday and on Wednesdays I get to drink a Pepsi; it's my rule.<br><br>So I just finished it - it was tasty, I love Pepsi - and the can is still sitting on my desk because I haven't taken it to the recycle bin yet. I did just happen to notice, though, that Pepsi contains "natural flavors".<br> <br><i>Natural flavors? </i> What in the world could possibly be natural about a can of Pepsi? The flavor has nothing natural about it at all, which is why I like it. (Don't be sad, Mom.) In fact, not an hour ago I was sitting here analyzing the delicious flavor of my Pepsi and trying to figure out why exactly I like it. <br> <br>I couldn't figure it out. <br><br>Sister and I have discussed this at length and think the reason all us kids like Pepsi is because Pops brainwashed us as children. After working at the apartments or mowing lawns, he'd take us for Pepsi and, if we were very good indeed, buy us Snickers bars too. So I think somehow we have correlated "Pepsi" with "REWARD FOR BEING AWESOME" and I'm not sure that's always true.<br> <br>So I blame my Pepsi affinity on Pops. I wonder if <i>he</i> knows it has "natural flavors" in it.<br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-10918717737295107212008-04-09T11:13:00.001-05:002008-04-09T11:20:09.349-05:00The Kid for President??Some of you Google Reader people may not realize this, but I have a poll going for who should be the next President. So far the top two people are John McCain (he has 10 votes) and Alex Laird who has 8 votes. Barack Obama has like 7 and Hillary Clinton, not surprisingly, has none. (This is what happens when a bunch of Republicans read your blog.)<br /><br />It unnerves me that my squiggly little brother has more votes than Barack Obama. I mean, The Kid isn't nearly so charismatic as that guy...plus he's not Senator of anything. I also think he wears mismatched socks, which I'm sure Barack Obama would never do.<br /><br />Well, too bad The Kid isn't 35 yet. I'm also not convinced he is a natural born citizen. (I realize he is a born citizen - Mom will testify to that - it's the <i>natural</i> part I'm a little hesitant about.) So clearly he cannot run for President yet, but I figure that in, like, 20 years he'll be the man for the job.<br /><br />The Kid, drop out of college and start forming your campaign. I will be your manager.<br /><br />Oh for those of you a little bushed about how you can vote for Alex Laird in my poll but I'm talking about some kid named The Kid...Alex Laird <i>is</i> The Kid.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-41546891071632716302008-04-09T09:17:00.001-05:002008-04-09T09:17:21.964-05:00The Olympics: My Sacred CowI love the Olympics. Every two years I become a total junkie and watch sporting events that I neither understand much about or would normally watch all because I love the competitive nationalism that is the Olympics. I love it all from the parade of nations at the Opening Ceremonies to the final medal presentation at the very last event. We don't own a TV, but Joey always ensures that we have one we can borrow for two weeks during the Olympics because he knows just how upset I'll be if I miss a moment of the games. <br> <br>So I didn't realize how emotionally attached I am to the Olympics until Monday morning. There I was, hamstering away on an elliptical machine at 6:15 a.m. at the gym and unabashedly watching CNN on the big plasma TV (I'm first and foremost a news junkie) when they cut into the broadcast with breaking news from Paris.<br> <br>The Olympic torch relay, of course.<br><br>I was quite transfixed as I watched protesters try to jump on the poor torch bearer and attempt to throw water over the police and Chinese security brigade that was surrounding the torch-bearer. Indignant, I began to elliptical faster. I began to feel very, very sorry for the gold-medalist athletes who were being honored by their country to carry the Olympic torch but were getting rotten vegetables thrown at them, among other things. <br> <br>I feel awful for the people in Tibet, really I do, and I would love to see them restored to autonomy. But the Olympics aren't something that, in my opinion, should be hijacked for political motivations. Diplomacy, people. Diplomacy. As I watched the rioting in Paris, the reporter said that the Olympic torch had been extinguished and they were completing the route by bus. It was then that I realized that I realized I had better think about something else or I would likely begin to cry.<br> <br><i>Crying</i> over Olympic torch relay protests? I'm afraid it's true. I may have moved beyond an Olympic junkie to an Olympic nerd. So I am sitting here at 9 a.m. CST kind of nervous for the torch relay in San Francisco. I hope no one gets hurt. <br> <br>But can you even imagine how cool the opening ceremonies will be this year? China has some awesome cultural things (those stretchy dragons with four people hidden inside that do the funky up-and-down dancing; I totally love those) and I can't wait to see how they display their country's traditions.<br> <br>OK, that's enough schmaltz for one day. You guys are going to all stop reading my blog if I'm not careful.<br><br><br> Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21760920.post-5676528278414303952008-04-08T10:03:00.001-05:002008-04-08T10:03:18.450-05:00In Which Joey Gets Insulted By The SalesladyLast night Joey and I went to the mall to return something. I had planned to go by myself but he literally begged me to come along (does that sound like homework avoidance to anyone else?) and so off we went to NorthPark. <br> <br>As we neared our destination, the Clinique counter, Joey said "Um...I'll sort of go stand over there" and veered sharply off to the right, somewhere over past the shoe department.<br><br>I completed my transaction in very little time at all and was rather surprised to find Joey standing right outside Clinique-land looking sheepish.<br> <br>"Hey babe, ready to go to the Apple store?" I asked. He was, of course. That was his one request, that we visit the Apple store.<br><br>"So while you were taking back your thing, I went over to look at watches," he told me.<br> <br>"Yeah?" I said, thinking that this story could be going someplace expensive.<br><br>"And the saleslady behind the counter came over to help me and asked me if I was 15!!"<br><br>"<i><b>NO</b></i>." I gasped.<br> <br>"Yes, she did. Then I kind of tried to laugh it off for her so she wouldn't be so embarrassed, and mentioned that I was just waiting for my wife to finish something. She was all shocked that not only was I not 15, but I was <i>married</i>, too."<br> <br>"Yeah, I bet..."<br><br>Poor, poor Joey. I mean, he <i>was</i> wearing a t-shirt, but I don't think that makes him look 15. I think he looks very mature and responsible, thank you very much. Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064315903199951558noreply@blogger.com1