group therapy.

Last Friday, as soon as I sent the kids off to school I headed out of town for a girl’s weekend. I drove three hours south on roads that had 90° turns without warning, little or no cell service, and an "off the map" area that made my GPS lose satellite connection and the map spin around trying to figure out where I was. To a cute little cabin in the Hoosier National Forest right on the Ohio River. Even with very few leaves left on the trees it was beautiful.

This was the front porch, it was so cute but not enough sunshine to be warm enough to sit very long.

The back deck had enough sun though...

The dining room.


This wedge in the wall held up one side of the cabin. It had a severe slope to one side that required an adjustment period while you acquired "sea legs" that added an interesting twist to showering (and in my case just walking). I know that my little guy would have had a blast rolling marbles from one end of the house to the other. If you notice in the next picture the quiche that I baked had a visible angle to it.

The view from the hot tub.

The view from the other side of the cabin.

We all had such a good time laughing, talking, scrapbooking, crocheting, and reading. There were pictures of us but I promised that I wouldn't post them due to the lack of daily showering and changing clothes.

f-bomb at church.

I had an interesting conversation with some ladies at work today that involved us talking about inappropriate, unusual, but funny things that happened at church.

Let me just cut to the chase…

Our church doesn’t have pews, only chairs. One Sunday, after services they were having an event at the church that needed all the chairs put away. So everyone started stacking chairs and loading them on rolling carts, I happen to catch a finger in between the chairs I was stacking and let out a loud and perfectly enunciated F*CK. Immediately about 10 to 100 heads turned my way (I couldn’t count I was avoiding looking at anyone) and I calmly, as if nothing happened, gathered my things off the floor and headed to pick up my kids from their class. Thankfully, this was an adult service and there were no kids around! What’s really odd is that the f-word isn’t usually my go-to “ouch” word, I’m more of a d*mn-it girl. I know that when you have to resort to profanity it shows your ignorance, but sometimes the only word that really expresses the emotion you’re feeling is ****. (Sorry Mom, I know you’re proud.)

One of the sweet, quiet ladies I work with also let the f-word fly, not quite at church though. She happened to get pulled over on the way to church. She knew she wasn’t speeding because she never goes over the speed limit, so couldn’t understand why she would possibly be getting pulled over. It ended up being nothing, just a license plate tag mistake. After getting flustered and realizing she was going to be late she called her sister at church and said, “I’m going to be late, I got pulled over by the f-ing police!” Whoops!

Another lady had a nice clean story about Easter Sunday. Their church was having problems with the audio system and the Audioman (That guy that wants to be on stage but just is too tone deaf/uncoordinated to, so he helps with the audio) came running up to help and tripped up the stairs leading onto the stage and slid spread eagle across the stage. She said that no one could help but laugh. What really got me going when she was telling us this story, was that her dry-humored husband whispered to her, “I thought that boy was gonna take off.”

I would love to hear some of your inappropriate, funny church stories, if you have any please share them with me.

All laughing aside…I felt awful about using profanity in church, I hit my knees hard that day asking for forgiveness. I know that it’s just a building but it’s also God’s house when we’re worshiping there. It felt like I had negated the worshipping that I had just done.

girl maintained.

A girl and her beautician have a special relationship. The beautician is almost as essential to her well being as her physician. Nothing is better than fresh from the salon hair.

Recently I started looking into a new salon. Although I really liked my regular girl, she had become more difficult to get an appointment with. I spent one Saturday afternoon checking into the local salons that had good reviews.


One potential candidate really caught my eye because they were an Aveda salon, which means that all the products they use are flower and plant derived. This is especially important to me because I have very sensitive skin and I am always afraid of having some weird reaction to products that are used on me. The Aveda salon owner gave me a tour and spent about an hour with me, talking about the products they use and services they offer (the salon is also a spa). All looked good to me, so I scheduled an appointment.


It went wonderfully, they do this amazing neck and shoulder massage while talking to you about your hair, and then while they were doing my hair they had this delicious lavender smelling neck warming thing on me. I loved it. My hair looked super shiny and healthy after they were done. They even touch up your lipstick and rub your hands down with this great lotion before they finish with you... Ahhhhhhh, I was so happy and relaxed. The last thing I needed before I left was a quick wax and then I would be good to go.




The waxing didn’t seem to feel any different than any other time I’ve been waxed, until she put the aloe on my brows afterward and it burned!!! I looked in the mirror she gave me and they were red but not any more than expected. I left the salon happy and ran around the rest of the Saturday. Sunday morning I woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong with my eyelids.

They were swollen, burned and felt sticky to the touch.

Looking in the mirror confirmed my worst suspicion, while being waxed the beautician ripped off my eyelid skin.

Lovely.

I am now sporting shiny Neosporin eye shadow until they heal. It is painful being a girl.

Update: (18-Nov-09) I have received restitution for my less than optimal waxing experience in the form of a gift certificate.

house of cards.

Often, the carefully built house of cards that we have around us comes falling down.

It could be that poor construction is what brings it down. We can only build on a weak foundation up to a critical moment. When you get to that point, no matter how many cards you try to squeeze in at the foundation they just won’t hold it all up.

Other times the people we think are helping us build our house destroy it by slamming a door so hard it reverberates throughout us and brings everything crashing down. Or even worse, carelessly throwing open a window during a hurricane just to bring it all down.

The cards mean so much to us. We have collected them along the paths of our lives. They are who we are.

Or maybe, just who we believe we are.

As I look around at all my cards lying on the floor, I see it as an opportunity.

It is time for me to start rebuilding. As I start this process I will be careful to make sure the foundation is strong and only built with the best cards I have. I will take my time to examine each card I have and only place the ones I am sure I want to keep and leave the ones I don’t laying on the floor. This house will be better than what I had constructed before, it will be stronger, more complete, and I will take the necessary time to build it exactly the way I want it.

I will be better, stronger, and more complete.