I spent my fondue set money on a shirt and tie for Scott since nowhere in the freaking land of Great Britain sells real fondue sets. Can a man wear a midnight blue shirt with black trousers? It's such a good blue...

Free Tuesday

It's a lazy Tuesday morning, and I've blagged myself out of a day of work. Scott is off work until tomorrow, and I hated the idea of missing a special day off with him. So I rearranged my shift to Sunday afternoon (leaving me time to make it to the Rememberance service) and voila! today I am free.

Scott and I are spending the day in true Lori fashion. We're heading up to Glasgow to visit Braehead, IKEA, and John Lewis, in search of clothes, tea cups, and a fondue set. After shopping, we're thinking of catching a movie at UGC (mind you, the biggest cinema in the world, it's like a million stories tall.) I'd quite like to see the Merchant of Venice, being the Shakespeare fan that I am.

Speaking of Shakespeare, [insert seeming pretentiousness] I'm desperate to get my books back. I've been without my books for, what, three months now? I bought a book in a charity shop so I've got something to read but it's not the same as going through a huge collection and selecting the perfect book out of them all. If it were up to me, I'd be reading Nathaniel Hawthorne's Short Stories.[/pretentiousness]

I had a dream last night that I was a freaking amazing painter and that before I became a Christian I had painted a picture of a Bible story (which now that I'm awake, I realize is not a Bible story) about some people who drowned. In the painting the people remained dead because I didn't believe God had saved them. But after I had become a Christian, I painted over it and made the people alive. The painting was amazing except for the fact that the alive people I had painted looked like Scott and Pete.

I also dreamed my dad totally rocked and told off the people at his old church for being self-righteous and condescending. The people at his old church aren't actually self-righteous and condescending, but in the dream they were, and my dad rocked.

I'm gonna go gather my husband away from his XBOX LIVE and make him take me shopping.

(SCOTT'S MIDNIGHT P.S.)

It's midnight.

Today was a mega-stressful nightmare ;). "January" sales shoppers everywhere. We didn't go to Glasgow, it was too busy. We didn't go to the cinema, we'd forgotten about the fact that Lori was going to a workmate's birthday party and I was off to a men's fellowship/eat a meal in a pub type thing. It was nice, apart from beer was off the menu due to people in rehab being there.

But I'm pretty sure Lori had fun. Which is the important thing in the end.

Christmas Happened

Our first Christmas was delightful. Snow, presents, a warm hubby, a coal fire... Sigh. It was perfect.

Scott and I woke up around nine or half nine and lazed about for a bit before rushing downstairs to open our presents. We both totally scored. I got stuffed toys, two floor lamps, Scrabble, and some decorative trinkets. Scott got a two-tiered keyboard stand, a tie, a CD, and lots of other wee things. (We had a price limit for Christmas.) Then we walked into the kitchen and saw that it was snowing! (Which has been mentioned already, I know.) I then began cooking a stuffing--the smell of chopped onions is amazing, by the way--for Christmas lunch, and once that was finished, we headed through the snow to the in-laws. There we opened more presents such as a coat, a map, and whiskey for Scott and a skirt, a statue and art supplies for Lori. We then ate dinner and subsequently spent the entire rest of Christmas watching Friends episodes back to back on E4. Scott and I came home, put in It's a Wonderful Life and around 2am found ourselves asleep on the couch.

Perfect, perfect day.

Hogmanay is next. See a couple of you then!

We're Not Dreaming Of A White Christmas

Because it is a White Christmas! Yay! For the first time in YEARS there is actually snow on the ground on Christmas. Usually it's too wet, since we live by the river, but this year has done us well.

Lori and I exchanged presents this morning. Our very first Christmas in each other's company. Lovely. Then we walked through to the kitchen to get breakfast, noticed and celebrated the snow. Before Lori monopolised the bathroom. And I phoned BT to sort our crackly phone line.

Incidentally, poor guy. He was working on Christmas morning with people moaning about their broadband and stuff. I felt bad. I think he was sleeping when I called to be honest, he didn't seem quite with it.

I just got sidetracked with other people's blogs for ten minutes. No one else is sad enough to post at this time. Haha, I am the ultimate blogging dweeb.

Have a good day, and I hope Santa is good to you all. He was to me.

P.S. Check out the link.

-by Scott.




Yuletide Ponderings
-by Lori.

Last night at the Christmas Eve service we attended, a few Christmasy thoughts came to mind as we sang The First Noel. I've never thought too in depthly about the Christmas story and how it all worked to fit into God's plan and character. Here's what I thought about:

1) God always chooses the lowly and poor to reveal himself to. On the night Jesus was born, angels appeared to the shephards. Why the shephards? God could've revealed himself to well respected members of the Jewish community, or at least the truly godly ones. Certainly there were better deserving people who could've received this message and gone to worship. But God sent angels to the shephards. Probably mostly young men, even boys. And they believed what they heard and went to worship the new King.
Then I started wondering what happened to those shephards as they grew up. Did they follow what was happening in Jerusalem with the little boy they knew to be the Messiah? Did any of them become followers when Jesus began his ministry? Were any of those shephards who were present at Jesus' birth find themselves present at his death, too, or resurrection? I wonder what happened to them after 30 years passed with nothing spectacular happening with that baby they found lying in a manger.

2) The second verse of The First Noel then deals with the wise men and I got to thinking about them. In Romans (I think it's Romans) Paul says that no one is without excuse of not knowing God because God has shown Himself in all things. The wise men from the East saw a star they couldn't explain. They believed in their hearts that this star must mean something incredible--so incredible that they picked up their things and traveled for two years across the continent to find out what was at the other end. They were Gentiles. They were not part of God's covenant to the Jews. They knew nothing of God. Yet by faith, by the way God showed Himself to all the world (for I imagine anyone could've seen the star, and anyone could've, by faith, followed it) wise men from a foreign land came and worshiped.

So then, were they saved by faith? We have no reason to believe they stayed in Bethlehem and heard of Jesus' life and death. Yet they had faith in Jesus and knew him to be a great and mighty King. Obviously this is not something we are able to know while on this earth, but it struck me as interesting. Surely the whole world was without excuse those years that the star was in the sky--except the men who followed it.

I also find it interesting that, while God sent angels to the lowly shephards, he also showed the star to educated and wise men all the same. God doesn't actually exclude learned people from his Kingdom, it's just that learned men most often will reject God. God deliberately showed Himself to the poor shephards, but God also gave everyone the chance to follow His star. The wise men knew enough about astronomy to know that this star was unique. Yet instead of considering one of nature's oddities, they followed it believing it was more. And they found the Messiah. And they brought him gifts and worshipped him. Interesting.


Merry Christmas.

I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams.

Ba Humbug.

After hearing "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" about six times every day since the beginning of December, and after looking at the cheesy Christmas decorations on our blog every time I make a post, I have decided Christmas is over for scottandlori.blogspot.com. It's not over for the real Scott and Lori--no, no, that is still to come, and I am still excited!! But for now, we're going with the superhero look. Our superhero pictures to the sides are now fixed to where you can click on them and see a larger image.

We have the internet at our house. :D Merry Christmas!!

I Have The Power....

Of Broadband. Not Greyskull, although that'd be cool. 1 Mbit per second. Suweet.

Although, the speed isn't that impressive in reality, since we're pretty far away from the exchange and a lot of people are online right now, it being peak time and all that. But it still beats nothing/dial up.

Anyway, Lori redecorated, I think she was sick of Christmas. Scrooge.

Does everyone know she doesn't intend to tell our kids about Santa? :(

Holy crap! I just found, like, a million friends' blogs! See new section in sidebar.

Breaking Crayons

When I was a kid, I coloured really hard. I didn't like when other kids coloured lightly because you couldn't really get the full colour that way. I pressed hard so the colour would be as vibrant as the wrapper around the crayon.

I broke a lot of crayons. But thats when you simply peel back the paper and get on with it.

I've always been "hard handed." I slam car doors with the best of them. I stomp. I twist tightly. I yank. I plunk. I slam. I'm wound up tighter than a tick, as they say. I think tighter than a clock makes more sense, but I didn't start the saying. It's just how I am. I don't do this intentionally; it doesn't reflect my mood or my attitude. I just do things powerfully. I break crayons. I prefer to think of myself as vibrant.

I'm strong spoken, too. I say what needs to be said that no one is saying. I wouldn't say I'm blunt, but I'd say I'm honest. Extremely. I yell if it is necessary. Sometimes I don't realize I'm yelling. I think I'm just speaking. But people tell me I'm yelling, and I guess they'd know. I fight sometimes, but sometimes people have to fight. If you don't fight, you don't fix things, and if you don't fix things, life gets complicated.

But this has gotten me into trouble numerous times. Needless to say, teachers didn't like me breaking their crayons, even if I had the prettiest colouring pages out of the class. Amanda and Scott always scold me for slamming the car doors. Downstairs neighbours hardly appreciated my heavy steps around the house. And people certainly have not liked me in the past because of the way I speak. But it's something I can't seem to change, and where the honesty comes in, I don't think I should. I don't do things forcefully on purpose, and when I think about it, I try extra carefully to be softer. If you point it out to me, I'll see that I did slam, and I'll try not to do it again. But the thing is, I will. I will do it again. My body is stiff as a board, and I dream about punching people. I'm a forceful person. It's in my marrow. How does one change something so indigenous to one's entire being?

But today I was told it must end. No ifs, ands, or buts. And if I don't stop, I'll probably get fired.

My boss had a talk with me today after work. No one likes to be called aside by one's boss; it always means you are doing something wrong. He asked me how I felt I was doing at the job. Sheepishly, I answered, "I think I'm doing well. Does this mean you don't think I'm doing well?" Indeed, it always does. He told me then and there he can't stand how heavy handed I am. "It just has to stop. No trying. It has to."

I sat there speechless as he told me how all day long I slam mugs down, drop dishes in the sink, stomp all around, and speak bluntly. But-- but I-- when do I do all this? And how exactly am I to stop? I told him I was completely unaware of all this and that I'd do my best to catch myself. He said that wasn't good enough. I told him he'll have to tell me as I'm doing it because I have no idea I'm being forceful. He didn't respond. That was it.

And the ironic thing? After that, he went on to scold me for not telling them when I am upset about something. After telling me I'm too blunt to customers (which I didn't think I was--I just try to speak clearly because they're all old and can't understand my "Australian" accent), he tells me to speak up if I'm upset. I won't go into the details on that one, but the one time I've gotten upset with the management, I decided to just let it go and then I got in trouble for letting it go. Sigh. Today's a rotten day.

I shall go now and practice being soft.

Hogma-what?

Arkansans would like Britain. They have Hogmanay instead of New Year's Eve. Hogmanay. Hog. Get it? Whoooo Pig Soooieee!

We don't know what we're doing for Hogmanay yet. There is an annual ceilidh that we could go to, but I don't know. I do like the idea of my husband wearing his kilt again. Mmmm. But I also like the idea of having a party at our house. I could invite Debbie and Niall. Jonathan and Sarah. It could be fun.

Today is Mom's last day here. It's been a lovely visit. She loved everything. We have snowcapped mountains outside our window. She loved that. (So did I.) She loved Edinburgh castle. (Eh, it was the same as three years ago to me. I'm not a castle person.) Anyway, she's away in the morning. I'll miss her. But we'll be home again soon for a visit. Time is on our side.

Christmas is Saturday, in case you're a Scrooge and don't know. I wouldn't know Christmas was on Saturday, considering we get no holiday off work for it besides the day of which I don't work anyway. Grrr. Scott gets several days off. I imagine he'll be playing Halo 2. Hurray for him.

I like being married. Especially to a man with day shifts. Yeah, Scott's on day shift for a few weeks. It's brilliant. I absolutely love it. Life is good.

I'm going to drive on my own for the first time tomorrow. Prayers are appreciated.

Jesus is God. Merry Christmas.

Officially An Adult

My adulthood cannot be denied by anyone from this day forward. Not only am I 21, but I have a wife, a job, a car and a baby on the way.

HAHA. Psyche.

Interpol was absolutely marvellous. The supporting band, Secret Machines, were sucky. Which is a shame, last time they had an amazing support. Also, it was a much less personal gig this time, without exaggeration, it was 10 times bigger. But they were good, and I sang my throat sore.

We left before they came back for the encore, though, since all they had left to play was tracks from the new album, which I don't have and wasn't too bothered about. So we missed the leaving rush.

Today we opened our Christmas presents from Lynda, Lori's mum. Yes, mum. I got some rather fetching trousers, a smart shirt/tie/hankerchief combo along with a scarf and hat. Grand. Lori got a leopard skin type set of scarf, gloves, headscarf and bag. She is pleased.

Anyway, it's time for early Christmas dinner, so that Lori can have dinner with her mum, and vice versa. I'm being hurried to get off the computer. Cheerio.

Scott and I are on our way to see Interpol in Glasgow tonight. Achoo.

Sniffle. Tomorrow is Edinburgh Castle with the parental unit. Sniffle.

I have a cold. Today is my husband's birthday. He's hot. And twenty-one. Achoo.

Bits and Bobs

Yes, yes, it's been a while. A substantial post is most definitely in order.

I have several wee things to say that have been growing in my mind this week so I will offer them to you in bits. That is, if I can remember any of them now that I'm here to blog.

Paris
You've all been wondering, I'm sure, how my day trip to Paris went. It was fantastic!! While I didn't end up spending anytime with my (ex)Girl Crush #1, I did spend the day with a friend called Debbie whom I really super duper like. She's one that I've known since my first trip to Scotland. We really hit it off though in Paris, and I'm very thankful. I like her a lot. She's better than some old girl crush anyway.

Let's see... highlights... I had un vin chaud (a hot wine) in une café and it was lovely! They dropped a slice of orange in it and gave me a tiny jar of nutmeg to sprinkle on top. It was delicious. We visited La Tour Eiffel, La Notre Dame, et L'Arc de Triomphe. I bought my very first parfum, Allure by Chanel. (I was in France, of course it would be Chanel.) We also visited lots of tiny boutiques and a tiny café where I got to practice my French with the natives. Most of them were nice and seemed to act like I had rather good pronunciation. I stopped a woman in the street and asked for directions to le metro and not only did she answer me without missing a beat, but I understood her back! So I felt like I truly spoke French. It was exciting.

All in all, it was a wonderful trip. I got to know many of the women in my church and now feel like I have some sort of bond with some of them. It was a good time, it was edifying, and we really felt the Lord was in it. (The trip, not Paris. Heheh.)

Christmas Work's Night Out
The coffee shop's Work's Night Out was on Friday. This was my first venture out without my husband. It was exciting, strange, and fun. We went for a dinner at a hotel/resort called Seamill Hydro. We all drew Secret Santas so we all got presents. My Secret Santa was none other than Girl Crush #2! She bought me (took from her shop?) a lovely yellow stone necklace thing. You will see pictures of me in it, I'm sure. It's beautiful. She and I shared two bottles of wine between just the two of us, so needless to say, we were steamin'. But it was fun. She is definitely moving from Girl Crush to Friend. It's exciting. We all had lots of fun, but I'll spare you the details, seeing as we had two bottles of wine, so in real life, the details probably aren't nearly as tale-tell as we think they are.

Books To Burn Request
We received a request for another book to burn, Against Love: A Polemic by Laura Kipnis. I have not read the book myself, but after reading the amazon.com review of it, it is certainly to be added. Read the review yourself. As a married lady and a Christian, I find the idea behind this book appalling. Marriage is to be honoured by all, says Hebrews 13. This attitude toward marriage is sad. Our society has seen marriages done all the wrong ways and thus cannot believe that it ever was or could ever be a successful institution. No longer do people even see anything worth being honoured in marriage. It's devastating. But it's not going to fool me. By God's grace, marriage shall continue and the blessings of marriage shall continue. So if you find a copy of this book, just burn it and help to guard hearts against such negativity thrust upon God's beautiful design.

(And while I'm at it, I'll just quote the whole verse: Marriage is to be held in honour among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge.-Hebrews 13:4. I'm truly heartbroken by all the defiled marriage beds in this world. Sometimes it can make me just cry.)

My Mom
My silly mother. She told me she was arriving tomorrow at 12:30 at Glasgow Int'l Airport. Turns out she's leaving tomorrow and arriving on Wednesday at Glasgow Int'l Airport at 12:30. What a let-down. I thought I'd be seeing her tomorrow. Now I won't. Oh well, it gives me one more day to clean house. And our gas should be fixed tomorrow morning so it gives us one more day to warm the place up. We hope.

Conclusion
Christmas is (nearly) here, bringing good cheer. Our Christmas tree is up--it's a live spruce, still in the pot--and our presents are bought. I love Christmas. I simply love it. And I don't care what some people say about "idolatry", I can't wait to find a pretty little nativity scene to finish up the decorations in our house. A little figurine signifying the birth of Christ does not equal a figurine signifying God the Father, which is the only thing the Second Commandment refers to, as far as Scott and I can interpret it. I'm going to go nativity scene shopping soon. Or maybe I'll just make my own like I did with our wedding toppers.

A bientot!

Well, I was commanded to blog, so I shall.

But I have nothing to say. Which is why I don't blog. Is that wrong?

This morning/afternoon was another Ikea adventure. Buckets of fun, I tell you. [/sarcasm].

Tonight, I get to get the spare room ready for Lori's mum to come visit. This bloody futon is driving me nuts. Some Swedish genius thought plastic nails/studs/whatever for it would be a good idea. It isn't. And the holes aren't in a straight line either. I hate it.

Sigh.

Deliberate Friendliness

In high school, I had some of the best friends in the world. We all hated each other and loved each other and gossiped about each other and knew each other inside out. I'm still friends with those people today, in that we-were-best-friends-in-high-school way and therefore-we-will-always-have-a-close-bond.

In college, I had the best friend I've ever ever had. No one will replace her. But in general, the people I hung out with in college weren't the closest people I've ever known. We didn't really know each other, and I couldn't tell you hardly anything about them. They are perhaps quite close to one another (though maybe not), but more or less, we were all just acquaintances/friends who had similar interests.

When I moved here, I decided to be deliberate and make friends that were really for me. Sound selfish? I hope not. Because I also want to make friends with whom I am really right for as well. I want to make friendships that last with people who I never need to hate or want to gossip about. I desire friendships that are deep and meaningful and experiential and beneficial to us all.

I have picked out three main targets:

Jonathan and Sarah. You, I'm afraid, are the main targets. Watch out for more Scott and Lori. We very much like you. It might even be love. (But the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked; who can know it? Your taste in board games is frankly quite disappointing.) Along with you, beware, Ashley and Bryce. I don't know how long you intend to stay in Scotland so you could possibly be heart breakers, but beware anyway. You are also being targeted.

Girl Crush #1 (and boyfriend). You live in/around Greenock. We live in Greenock. You are beautiful and cool and I think you have a crush on me, too. I loved our conversation we had that one time. I do ever so hope you will be our friends. You's are big targets.

Girl Crush #2 (and boyfriend). I'd already decided I wanted to be your friend but when I saw your flat today, I just knew. We could be great friends. We both like pink. And I think you'd both really like Jesus if you gave him a chance. But even so, I like you very much. Do you like us? Check yes or no.


The hunt has begun.

Well, the home of Scott and Lori has definitely been a disaster as of late. We've been without heat for going on two weeks now. Please keep in mind that it is wintertime in Scotland. Being without heat is lethal. I've definitely been feeling sick for the past week, and I'm blaming it on coldness and dampness of our abode.

This has meant lukewarm showers (not cold, thankfully, as we have a separate boiler for the shower which kinda works), cold dishwater, I'm assuming cold laundry water, and cold air. Our laundry won't dry on its clotheshorse, the dishes are piling up (I only attempt them at times of high motivation--for it's either plunge into the cold dishwater, or heat up the kettle four times which takes ages and only produces a mean amount of water), and the electricity bill is skyrocketing as we've been using a couple of tiny space heaters to keep our bedroom warm.

To make matters worse, our ceiling began leaking a few days ago. After my lukewarm shower, Scott went downstairs and noticed water leaking--rapidly--out of the ceiling underneath the bath. We thought a pipe had broke. We shoved a bucket under the leak to catch the drips and called our emergency home service number (Hurray for Royal Bank of Scotland Premier Account!) and discovered the seal was broken in our tub. This problem, too, has yet to be fully resolved. Which explains why I'm at my in-laws right now, blogging. We had to come over here this morning to get our showers. I'm hardly complaining. It's warm here.

Luckily Scott and I are coping with all this well. I did have a wee breakdown when I came home yesterday and saw our house totally torn apart--parts of the bathtub lying here and there, ceiling missing, new boxes brought over from Scott's parents' house, the old guest bed taken apart, and a massive pile of dirty dishes. But we'll get there. We'll get there. We've got it better than most of the world, don't we?