My triumphant return to the blogosphere!

Well, the excruciating sinus infection I was predicting never came to pass, but the local fires have had Sister Nancy Beth coughing like she was back to two packs a day. The last time we had fires like this, the doc put me on on inhalable steroids for the lung irritation I developed, and all I had to do was smell food to gain weight. Now that I am a bride of Christ, I don't inhale anything -- save for the occasional bit of ceremonial frankincense from Jesus' sacred water pipe -- so my girlish figure should remain waifishly petite (though that frankincense, to be honest, does increase my appetite).

Illness hasn't been the only thing that kept me from my mission of slaying the blogosphere. As I said, I am a bride of Christ, and while maintaining separate residences has allowed us to live sinlessly for the first fourteen months of our relationship, Jesus and I have decided that my moving in would allow us to do more of our missionary work. The moving process seems to have kicked into high gear over the past few weeks, with endless cycles of emptying out cabinets, putting what I want to keep but don't have room for at JC's into storage, donating what I don't want to charities that do the Lord's business, and sending the rest off to my local landfill. How gratifying it is to know that someday, future generations will unearth Sister Nancy Beth's menstrual belt and revere it as a holy relic.

Since I'm setting up housekeeping with Jesus, we're getting rid of our duplicate items, which has had its share of battles. I really don't look forward to getting into a pissing match with the Son of God over who's got a better frying pan, but while he was busy tomcatting around with those no-account apostles, resurrecting and whatnot, and biding his time until the Second Coming, Sister Nancy Beth gave beauty school a go and tried making something out of her life, working my way all the way up from shampoo girl to receptionist at Conchita's Unisex Beauty Palace, and consequently my possessions show it. Once the good state of California rethinks its discriminatory policies about faith-based cosmetology and grants me my manicurist's license, Jesus & I expect to see our standard of living improve exponentially.

But why am I offering excuses for not blogging? Sister Nancy Beth, slayer of the blogsphere, blogs about what she wants, when she wants. So be grateful for even this much, my fellow Christians. Until next time...

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Oh, and it pains me to have to report this, but I've attracted some attention during my absence, and not from one of my fellow prayer warriors offering up an Our Father for my troublesome sinuses. The drunken clods at Martini Republic have taken a break from picking fights with honorary Christian Cathy Seipp (Cathy, let's talk, I could do wonders with those tresses) and presumed atheist Kevin Roderick long enough to leer at my breasts -- metaphorically speaking, of course. Sorry, fellas, but these melons will be metaphorically balled by another.