this is no longer my blog

It is late, I am tired, my eyesight is a bit fuzzy, so excuse some typos (as I know you have in the previous posts... I've noticed them myself but decided not to change them). So I set my alarm to go off at a decent time, earlier than the day before, so that I can get up and shower. I did notice a shower stall (previously occupied by flabby pasty hairy naked pastor that has a higher nozzle. Wouldn't you know it, it's taken when I get over there. I step in another shower. Thank God it is consistently warm for the length of my shower. It still sprays me in the back. Squatting is not fun when you're hung over. I shower, go back to my room, take more Excedrin, drink some more water, finish getting ready and look at the clock. It's like 7:30. Breakfast doesn't start until 8:10. I sit in my room, I lay down, I can't fall back asleep. I feel like reheated poop. I walk towards the elevators when I am hit by a tremendous wave of nausea. I figure I will be fine. I'm not. I end up vomiting in a bathroom that by the grace of God was put at the end of the looooong hallway. I think Perhaps that is what I needed. Perhaps after that horribly gut-wrenching vomit I will feel much better. Perhaps I was wrong. I shuffle down to the dining hall, go through the line and get some toast and oatmeal. stuff that will sit well on an upset stomach. I sit across from Glasses and other-guy. Glasses mentions that I must not be a morning person. I say it has nothing to do with not being a morning person and everything do with the crap I am feeling like this particular morning. He says Oh! I'm sorry. I say it's okay. He says he's still sorry. I finish eating. We go back down to the main conference room for a session. I end up sitting in the back row that Supervising and I made the evening before, mainly by myself. Young comes and sits by me. I watch two babies playing together on the floor. Well, one is more a toddler and attempting to play with the other. The other is not quite at the point where she is able to play with another child. I decide that I am not getting anything out of this session. I feel horrible. I go back to my room, which I have already stripped of linens, and I lay down and sleep for about 30 more minutes. I get back up and go back to the session and sit back down by Young. The session takes a break like 5 minutes later. I have already noticed that Supervising is not there yet. He comes in during the break and says he had a bit of a headache this morning. I tell him I feel him. The truth is I am feeling much more than him, what with my horrible stomach. The session reconvenes and then ends. Then it is time for closing worship in the chapel upstairs. I go upstairs and sit by Young and in front of funny-south-african-pastor and funny-wife and behind this one guys who was seemingly in charge of the event and a chaplain at a nursing home and one of those people who causes me to become full of rage just in his very act of being. I think a lot has to do with that during one of the times in that morning's session when we broke into small groups he invited himself into mine and then changed the subject at one point by turning to me and asking me "So, why ordained ministry?" in a tone that seemed to be asking me to prove myself. I told him it wasn't my choice. Young said "Good answer." I explained a little more to jackmunch. I really just wanted to tell him to shut the hell up. I didn't, though. Jackmunch also annoys the hell out of me because he whips out his palm pilot and hooks it up to the little keyboard that I wish he'd shove up his butt. He does it all the time. He then types on it and doesn't seem like he's paying attention. He does this during worship. It makes me irrate. So after worship we go to lunch. I am hoping we'll have heavenly mashed potatoes. They are plain. They'll sit well in my upset stomach. We have spiced roasted potatoes. And meatloaf. Dang. I grab a few roasted potatoe wedges, although I know I probably won't eat them. I grab a slice of meatloaf. I grab a roll and some canteloupe. I sit down by Supervising and a clergy couple. I ran into wife-pastor before at seminary when i worked in admissions. She brought a confirmation group, and according to her I gave them a tour, took them to the top of the tower and most of the girls fell in love with me. I eat some of my meatloaf. I eat some canteloupe. I take a bite of bread and get that taste in my mouth that means I could vomit. I take that as a sign that means stop eating the bread. Finally Supervising says it is time to go. I say I need to go over to this table and say good bye to a few people. Namely Young, funny-south-african-pastor and funny-wife. Supervising says he is going to pick up the bread that he ordered and then he'll meet me at the front door. I go tell the three that I'm leaving. Funny-south-african-pastor wants a hug. We hug. I hug funny-wife. She says remember this synod when I graduate. I say that I thought about giving my nametag to the bishop so that he could remember my name when I graduate. Funny-wife tells me to do that right now. I walk over to Bishop and he is standing up, saying something that must be important to the table of retired pastors that he was eating lunch with today. He stops and looks at me. I hand him his nametag and say "I want to give this to you, so that you can remember my name in two years when I graduate from seminary." The entire table laughs. They enjoyed that. One older man pipes up "What is it?" I guess he didn't get it. He just laughed so he didn't feel left out. Bishop says that this table are all his witnesses that I approached him and not vice versa. Seems it is heavily frowned upon for Bishops to recruit people to their synods. But he says he will keep my name. Then he encourages me to be involved in the synod, and he knows Supervising and knows I will. We shake hands. I go back to the other three. They are laughing. They like that I had the huevos to go do something like that. Supervising has gotten his bread and is now waiting for me to leave. He came back because I wasn't at the front door yet. I run over to Liberal-woman and Glasses and tell them what I just did. They like that. I tell them I will see them next week at text study. Then I run over to Supervising and we walk down the hallway. Supervising needs to go to the bathroom. While I am waiting I run into woman-who-went-to-my-college-but-several-decades-earlier-and-my-seminary-but-at-the-same-time-pastor and assistant-to-the-bishop. I tell them what I did. Assitant-to-the-bishop says that' SHE'LL remember my name, because that's her job. Then I go pee. Then Supervising and I leave and drive home. I'm still hungover, but I finish working the day when we get back to church. So that is the end of Day Three, and that is the conclusion of The Adventures of Pastor Intern Mark in the Land of the Professional Leaders Conference. I knew I just needed to sit down and type it out. I may have forgotten some stuff, but I believe that most of the important stuff has been remembered. If I remember anything that adds to the story I will write them out in paragraph form with a note of where to insert them. For now I think I will finish my gatorade and then go to bed. I think I can feel the carpal tunnel setting in from all of this typing. Ow.