I am utterly and totally bobcumdistulated today. I'm pretty sure that it has to do with the fact that I have just spent the last TWO weekends out of town, but the more likely explanation is that I had to be ME out there in the public and not be too MUCH me for more than fourteen seconds at a time.
I think my head is going to explode.
What can I say? You spend the majority of your life hiding in your house with a fussy little dog and you get a little nuts when you have to wear shoes and a bra and carry on polite conversation about something other than ort receptacles.
The first trip outside of my comfort zone (Read that as: outside the eight-foot perimeter of Chez Spinster), was to Donaldson, Indiana and the annual Sit 'n Stitch with 50 of the most amazingly wonderful ladies you will ever meet. It was life-changing for me in many many ways, and I learned how to take a shower in the glove compartment of a Ford Focus.
(If you've ever been to the Lindenwood Retreat Center at Ancilla College in Donaldson...insert your guffaws here.) All I can tell you is that the size of the shower and the amplitude of Yours Truly made for a very interesting morning. At one point, I figured that the best way to get clean would be to apply the body wash to the walls of the shower/glove compartment, and then just shimmy my way to a bright and spot free shine, but the resulting jiggly bits threw me into convulsions that could be heard all the way down the hall.
A fair amount of thread was applied, removed, and applied again to the Zecca Bird in a Nest canvas, but alas, I do not have it or my camera here for photographic evidence. Tomorrow....I promise.
This last weekend found me in Lima, Ohio for my 30th high school class reunion.
(I'll save you from having to do the math in your head. Ready?....I'm 48.)
Now here's where I confess that I fretted and fretted and fretted about this for six months, purposely missed the deadline to attend, and then turned my car around about nine times because of the full-on panic that ensued every single time I thought of having to say "Hi, do you remember me? I was the one sitting in History class trying to look like I had a clue about what I was doing, but all I really wanted to do was go hide in my locker until graduation."
The flop sweat hit ten minutes after I left the hotel and the red blotches appeared right about the time I realized that there was no good way to run screaming from the banquet room without drawing attention to my big fat heiney hastily packed into twelve year old capris pants and a blouse that was apparently made of thermo-nuclear fabric. (I'm pretty sure that I could have baked a ham in there and had plenty of heat left over for the green bean casserole.) (Note to self.....find. better. deodorant.) (Second note to self....burn. blouse.)
By the time the event started (oh, did I mention that I was about four hours early?), I had worked myself up into a froth of bug-eyed, sweaty, blotchy, messiness that could only be contained in the corner stall of the ladies room. I spent a fair amount of time in there quietly gritting my teeth and chanting "Get a freakin grip already. Get a freakin grip already" until it occurred to me that people were probably starting to wonder about the weird girl who spent the night in the john talking to herself.
Yeah. THAT'S the way to rebuild a reputation.
Despite having to be ME, I managed to have the time of my life, and I can't believe that I was actually lucky enough to go to school with this group of people.
Thank God, though, that I've got five years to recover, get a grip, and find better pharmaceuticals.
Stewey sends his love. He was happy to spend some time with his Aunt Chrissy, but a bit miffed that it was not (as I had promised him) a vacation aboard a Viking Cruise through the waterways of Europe. (Can I help it if he's getting harder and harder to please? A mo-ther's gotta do what a mo-ther's gotta do to get the damn dog in the car seat, after all.)
Here's hoping that your last few weeks have been filled with all things happy. If you've gone to your own events this summer and would like to pass along any helpful tips about how one might learn to be a little less....Spinster Stitcher-ish, please drop me a line. I'll take all the help I can get.