*tap*tap*tap* Is this thing on?
My natural inclination is to apologize for my lack of regular postings, but I know that most of you who still read this blog understand that it probably doesn’t come so easy anymore. No, I will admit — it doesn’t. Half the time I just don’t have anything to say, the other half of the time I don’t have anything nice to say, so I don’t say anything at all.
In case you missed it, I was featured in an article in the Cincinnati Enquirer! I feel that the author and photographer/videographer did a wonderful job in depicting my story / Nora’s story. They had interviewed me for this almost a year ago, and I figured they decided not to run the story, which was no big deal. I was pleasantly surprised to get a call from Chrissie Thompson the Friday before it went to print. She called to give me a heads up, and to read the article to me over the phone since she couldn’t send it. Here’s the link:
Abortion: The Most Important Decision of Her Life
Since it is now Christmas Eve, I will publicly unveil this year’s Christmas card while simultaneously wishing each of you a very Merry Christmas and happy holiday season!
We’ve got Lady Baby always on our minds and like to imagine her up in heaven doing all sorts of sweet and silly things. If it were to actually snow here, how funny to think of her helping to cut out snow flakes and tossing them down to us. Then of course the implication that Starbucks was trying to cancel Christmas this year by dispensing plain red cups. LOL. Hmm… Wayyyy too many other things to focus attention and energy on. Just LOVE, for the LOVE!
I had some help from Greta this year. This little drawing was part of her Christmas wish list and it made us smile, so we had to share it:
If you usually receive a card from us and you haven’t received one yet, perhaps it will get to you in March. Which leads me to my next segment…
Things I’ve Learned in 2015
Last year’s tree of knowledge blossomed with the acrid aroma of garlic when I unknowingly substituted 3 garlic BULBS for 3 garlic CLOVES. I nearly asphyxiated my family and ruined our kitchen and adjoining rooms in the process, but NOW I KNOW.
And now on to 2015’s lesson(s) …
This year I was curious as to why I hadn’t heard a single feedback on my Christmas card many days after I had sent it out. Was it too over the top? Is it really bad, and no one likes it?? Did it make everyone sad?? At least my MOM would have said something?? Right? 😬
Turns out they weren’t being delivered. How could this be?? Slightly panicked, I began brainstorming on what the problem might be. This is when I stumbled upon a wellspring of information from offbeatbride’s site. Of course at this point, I had already addressed my DARK GRAY envelopes with METALLIC ink, stamped them and dropped them into the abyss of the big blue mail receptacle:
I had gone through such great lengths to get the envelopes ordered on time, the card design completed and sent off to the printer only slightly last minute…
I was all
Thanks for this hilarious visual, Melanie!!!
When I might as well have been all
Very slowly but surely, people are receiving them. *Sigh of relief… * Just might not be before Christmas.
My other big lesson happened on an otherwise fabulous trip to Chicago just before Thanksgiving this year. William and I headed off to the Windy City for a long weekend with a couple of dear friends of ours and no kids. Hotel accommodations were made, restaurant reservations placed well ahead of time, Uber app downloaded and configured, proper attire carefully selected and methodically packed… Except… My bathing suit! … D*mn it! Oh well. I just won’t go swimming. Simple enough.
Fast forward to Saturday when William and I were walking through clods of snow in 19 degrees outside of the art museum trying to figure out the Uber app in real life. In real freezing cold life. Once back to the hotel, nothing sounded better than to immerse myself in the scalding, steaming, bubbly, soothing whirlpool. As swimwear is not exactly in peak season in Chicago at this time, I had 2 options:
1) A $265.00, ugly at best, string bikini that was left over from the summer, now tucked away in the back corner at Bloomingdales.
2.) A $7 disposable bathing suit enthusiastically presented to us by a member of the hotel spa staff:
… “They’re inexpensive enough…”
The first big warning sign that I should have just left well enough alone was the fact that they only had one size left:
“It will be just fine,” she reassured me, “There is a ton of elastic in it. It will fit you!”
“Pleeeeeease???” my frozen feet pleaded.
After a 4 second span of undecided silence, I caved. What the heck… Why not. YOLO!
William handed over $7 in exchange for the “Dipster” package.
The kind young girl showed me around the locker room and gave me instructions on how to use the locker key pads, and then left me to make a complete ass out of myself from this point forward.
I looked around in vain for some sort of changing rooms, or a curtain… SOMETHING. I’m not the type of person who treats a public locker room like my own personal rowdy Las Vegas strip club. That’s fine if that’s your thing and you don’t mind letting it all hang out in front of complete strangers. Just WAY out of my comfort zone, is all I’m sayin. This was my second sign that swimming REALLY wasn’t that big of a deal. Just go back to the hotel room, for the love!!!!! But no. William was already probably waiting for me out in the pool area. I’ll just HURRY UP and change as fast as I can, I thought to myself.
Well, of course, as soon as I’m standing there in nothing but black socks, fumbling with this stupid plastic packaging — like 7 people come barging in. And then some girl starts putting on makeup, and brushing her hair in the mirror directly behind me and totally invading my 700 foot radius I have claimed as personal space based on my current state of clothelessness. My hot red face certainly wasn’t cold anymore!!
I finally got the disposable / reusable contraption on and followed the arrowed signs that read “POOL”. Sure enough, on my way to the pool — there is the neat and tidy row of dressing rooms that everyone else had the courtesy and decency to use. Except me. In my disposable bathing suit. (Oooooh!! Just go back to the room!!!!!!)
Enter pool room and there is my husband reposed and simmering in the whirlpool with a bemused expression on his face. Other people also in the whirlpool are looking at me like:
At the point of no return, I forced an anxiety-ridden smile and exclaimed, “Tah Dah!!!” (jazz hands)
I proceeded to make my way into the disappointingly lukewarm whirlpool. Maybe if I close my eyes really tight they can’t see me…. Aaaaaaarrrrgh!! D*mn it!!!!!!
Finally, enough was enough. I was going to get out and dry off, and go straight back to the room. So I stood up and started up the concrete steps only to discover that this durable, tear resistant Tyvek® from DuPont fabric was the equivalent of trying to lift a garbage bag full of water out of a pool. The entire body of water was now collected in this bathing suit. “Pardon me while I empty my bathing suit back into your whirlpool! You’re welcome, bye!!!”
I grabbed a complimentary robe from the locker room, hurriedly stuffed my clothes into my purse and stoically made my way back to our room where I stood there trying to assess what had just happened…
Wondering why swimming / whirlpooling had been THAT important. There it is, people. The lovely inexpensive / reusable bathing suit, in case you have a hankering to make a complete fool of yourself a second or third time or more! I may have saved $258, but certainly didn’t spare any dignity what so ever. Oh well. It’s hilarious in hind sight — no pun intended.
Merry Christmas! 😂💗💕