Wednesday, March 3, 2010

The Story of How I Became a Postulant

I started this entry on 5 November 2008 and left it as a draft for some reason. I guess I just forgot that I'd started it and forgot to finish it. Now I'll post it, though, and I hope y'all are as amused as I am recollecting the ending.

See, wha'ha'happe was this one time I had drove to Pensacola. I had drove after leading a Bible study and then I had got to my aunt's house. She had tried to stay up to wait for me but she couldn't. But my cousin Matthew was up because he had just got home. We had talked for a few minutes and then I had went to bed. I had set my alarm for 8:00, but I wasn't sure that I'd even be able to sleep that long. I woke up at 8:00.

When I had got up all my family had gone but my cousin Seth. He stay with my aunt and uncle but he ain't their kid. He go to school in Pensacola. When I had finished showering and getting ready we had watched Patch Adams together while we had talked about school. We had had to leave at the same time. He had went to classes and I had to go to the bishop's office for my meeting about being a postulant. My directions wasn't too good, so I had got off the interstate and went the wrong direction. It didn't feel right, though, so I had called the office and talked to my friend Sally. She work there and we had went to Cursillo together. I had just passed Sammy's, and she had gave me good directions.

Sorry, I can't do it anymore. I'm too tired.

When I got to the diocesan office I had a seat and then Mary Poss took me to the kitchen where I had a banana and a Diet Coke (Diet Coke, Diet Coke). I waited until I was called in. The bishop was so nice. He asked if my tie was okay. He told me to breathe. Then he told me to go in and have a seat. I did. I met the members of the Commission on Ministry. The bishop started by complimenting my tie and asking me, if he could without being to outrageous, show the commission my socks. They were tan with brown vertical stripes and red horizontal stripes. Where they intersected they made orange squares. They're a pair of my fun socks. I have six now.

So we went through the forty-five minute interview. I was asked about the priesthood. I talked about the Baptismal Covenant as a life of self-marginalization, and that the ordained are called to lead and invite the laity in the self-marginalization to which they've committed. Canon Dunnam asked if people who wear yellow bow ties marginalize themselves from society. I replied that people who wear yellow bow ties might be marginalized from society because they aren't the dominant trend, but that those who have been called to lead in self-marginalization, at least in The Episcopal Church, tend to wear white collars. He replied with, "Touché," and laughed. Two lay people clapped and everyone else at least laughed.

Cn. Dunnam also asked where I'd acquired my proficiency with language. I started by telling him that I'd answered that question in that building before. (Bishop Duncan asked me that when I went to talk to him in February.) I told him that Mom was an English teacher and that Romey had been particular about our speech and interviewing skills. Then he asked how my peers reacted, if at all. I told him for the most part that they don't. My group of friends all have our special areas and we use our terms and teach each other. I told the Commission about nerd hands for when someone does something ridiculously nerdy, and they laughed. I talked about Erin being an English major and Tate saying "amenesis." Then I was done talking to them.

I went to Aunt Terrie's to get lunch and chatted online briefly. I went back to the diocesan office for talks we were going to have about seminary life. Before going in I collected my thoughts since I was a little early. Four clergy people who've graduated from seminary in the last three years. We had conversations for three hours. It wasn't too bad, actually. A number of people called a few times to see if I had news. My phone was on silent. The conversations consisted of the four clergy people and all the people who'd been interviewed about postulancy, so we all got to meet one another, too. The talks were very good. They were informal and not stressful.

Then came the time for announcements. This is where the entry is picking up over a year later. We all waited in the diocesan office's lobby as we were called in one at a time. I got my announcement, and as we know by now, I became a postulant. However, there's more to that story. After the announcement, as I'm bubbling with excitement (and completely not feeling like it's election day), I went to get in my car. I felt my suit pockets, and what do you know, but my keys weren't in them!

I went around to the passenger's side and low and behold, my keys were in the ignition. I was still driving the Grand Prix at the time, and I had a very set routine for getting out of my car and locking the door. It started with taking the keys out of the ignition as I turned my lights off after I'd put the car in park, then opening the door. I had sat to collect my thoughts, and thus I had thrown off my routine. Door got locked, keys never made it out of the ignition. I was mortified. I told people inside what was going on, I think only the bishop and Mary were left at that point, and it worked out.

The bishop called AAA to open my car, which they did. However, we had to wait for the locksmith to get there. Bishop Duncan and I had pimento cheese sandwiches and Diet Cokes on Sally's desk while we waited for the locksmith to get there. I was so embarrassed. Freshly made postulant locks his keys in his car, and then the bishop has to wait with him before he can leave. Great beginning, you know? The locksmith came and opened the passenger door. We unlocked all the doors from it and Bishop Duncan held it open until I was safely in the driver's seat with the car started. Then I drove back to Troy, excited about being a postulant and about the election that was happening.


  1. Pimento cheese sandwiches are tasty, although I've never eaten one with a Bishop.

  2. I used to eat them with my grandmother at her house. That's my most vivid recollection of them: her kitchen and refrigerator.