that's a lot of hymns, even if i hadn't been wearing heels.

So, yesterday Neil Patrick Harris was at the store where I work. That's right, Doogie Howser, M.D.

I'm watching Sister Act. Just watched the first scene with the choir, before Whoopi works her magic, and they still sound horrible.

Which reminds me... This morning John and I tried out another church. And this one had nine, yes, nine, hymns during the service today. During the part of the service where everyone is supposed to go around and talk to each other, this old guy wearing jeans pulled up to his armpits by navy blue suspenders and a raggedy t-shirt that said "Thank God I'm a Methodist" came up to John (who was wearing an orange polo shirt with a single, thick, blue stripe across the chest) and said, "I hope you didn't wear that shirt on Saint Patrick's Day. The Irish Republican Army would've shot you."

After the service, this friendly guy who'd talked to us before everything started, told us the minister was leaving in July and the organist was a backup. Was he trying to convince us to come back? Not that the organist did a bad job, really, but she's one of those people that lets her mouth hang open when she's confused. She looked like she might start drooling, so long was her mouth open.

Trying new churches is a really strange experience. It's both comforting and terrifying. It's like seeing a family member you haven't seen since you were a child, only now they're taller and have their own opinions--opinions that aren't quite the same as yours. We're talking about differences like:
"Oh, you like Jewel?"
"Yeah, didn't you just love 'Spirit'?"
"Umm, yeah, kinda. But I thought 'Pieces of You' was better."
"Oh."
"Yeah."