Friends.

So, yesterday I woke to my dad calling. No, I woke up at 5:15 and then went to run and then came home and showered and then heard the phone in the other room.
1. My dad rarely calls me (I talk to my mom like 3x a day so there's no need because she relays all information.)
2. If he calls. I answer. (I don't ever think, oh, I'll just call him later. Because, back to point A, he doesn't call often--except when he accidently calls me which did happen frequently for a while, but that wasn't his fault it was because his phone was messed up and when he tried to check his voicemail it called me.)
3. He's worried about my mom and thinks she may have had a small stroke.
4. Panic.
5. Panic.
6. Panic. Calling sister. She doesn't answer. Call her again. No Answer. Call her husband. Call her back.
7. Mess of tears and stress because I can't be there.
8. Spend most of the morning convincing my mom to go to the ER for tests. She doesn't want to miss any work so she stays until lunch time so she can only take a 1/2 day.
9. Complain about how this is ridiculous.
10. She goes. Tests run. Could be a TIA stroke in which there is no evidence. On a heightened state of alert and panic.
11. Drink wine and eat cheese for dinner with friends from out of town.

I admitted to some friends that I'd like to call this an "episode." You know, because that's what old people call things when they try to pretend that nothing serious is happening even though it is and it re-occurs. Case in point. Remember the Friends when Joey wore Thanksgiving Pants?, "We were on a break!," Chandler having a 3rd nipple, when Pheobe got married, when Rachel ran all crazy in the park like Pheobe....etc etc etc. They re-run. I watch them. They changed worlds.

Much like this "episode" will change things.

My dad called againt his morning while I was getting dressed for work--Instant panic. Answer. Not a scary phone call. THANK YOU TOM CRUISE.

Still really stressed. Lets all practice a little self care, why don't we.

update from yesterday

I did not take a preg test because I ACTUALLY believed myself to be so... just because I enjoy spending money and being paranoid.

SO I went to the dermatologist. He was a character--to say the least. He talks about 500 miles per hour. He also talked into a recorder IN THE ROOM WITH ME. I didn't know where to look or if I were to make eye contact. At first I did, but then it got awkward.

He also told me that no one needs moisturizer and unless I'm spending a day in the sun to go ahead and skip the sunscreen.

We'll see what happens. I have new creams that, so far, have not made me break out in a rash like last time. Fingers crossed this continues to not happen.

Doctor, Doctor give me the news...

I'm a paranoid person. I mean, not really, but I worry things are wrong with me. Not in a way that I sit around obsessing, but in a way that I just think about it and then I start reading webmd and it takes me to countless items to consider... and by items I mean rare illnesses. I hope somewhere there is someone tracking the amount of crazy that is looked up on webmd. I think I'll go fashion my tin foil into a hat now.

Anyway, so I have an appointment next week at the dermatologist. However, I woke up today with crazy (aforementioned) breakout. I call and dramatically tell the front desk person that I really need to get in today. I really can't wait until next week and that I look like one of those people you kind of feel sorry for that you see at the grocery store because their complexion is so bad. I'm going at 2:30.

So, I'm asking my friends why why why.....and one responds, oh woman of wisdom, remember that you got your ENTIRE face threaded? Oh yah... that could possibly have something to do with it. I wasn't going to tell the Dr. this, but I suppose I have to now? I'll leave out the part that (even though it's physically impossible for me to be pregs) I went to walgreens before work and bought a pregnancy test and fiberone poptarts. Yes, I feel this is probably best kept to myself and my 10 loyal readers.

Fiber One poptarts=amazing. Seriously, you should try them. I have also recently purchased fiber one muffin mix (delish) and fiber one pancake mix (it's ok...alright, it's actually pretty good, but there was some user error in making said pancakes. It said to grease the pan/spray pam, but I thought with my fancy calphalon skillet I could forgo pam. Because NOTHING sticks to these pans except fiber one pancakes.)

Oh Miley ray Cyrus...

Yes. I realize that isn't her name.
No. I will not stop calling her Miley Ray.

So I have previously written of my random breakouts. Usually they are linked to my random high school girl mentality (I'm convinced.) Like, when I was having a love affair with the Twilight series or when I had the need for a pair of Uggs. Or when I wore Nike tempos to the mall--kidding that never happened. I put leggings under them and wore them with uggs. Kidding again. I wore a mini-skirt, tank top, uggs and a scarf in 75 degree weather. no. Ok, so just the twilight series and the need for text assurance.

Well, I've been buffing up on my Josh Radin, loving some Colbie Calliet, and I love me some James Taylor. SO why is my face breaking out as if I'm going to have Aunt Flo visit for the FIRST TIME EVER. I've never had my skin look like this. It's rough, and gross, and narsty.

I blame the impending birthday. Maybe my skin feels like this is it's last hoorah before adulthood? I mean, if so, give me lines and sagging jowls. I can't take this anymore.

This weekend I returned to a face system that I used all through grad school with no problems. Why did I stop? I get bored. Hence the ever changing hair styles. I'm hoping for a miraculous turn around that takes until approximately tomorrow. I do have an appointment with the dermatologist for a full body scan (and discussion of my ever failing skin) in a week. I pray for promises, friendship bracelets, and maybe a zima with a jolly rancher in it.

Bye Bye Bye...

SO, if you know me, you know that I'm slightly obsessed with hair. I am known to get my brows threaded. I love a good wax. I hear permanent hair removal.

Today, on a whim I decided instead of getting my brows done--I'd do my whole face. Pardon my breaking into unruly speech, but it hurt like a mo' fo'. I cried out with tears of agony. That isn't exactly true. I did have some tears I was able to with hold. However, it is uncertain if I was crying for pain or for the very wretched breath that was being blown in my face. Or when for 5 seconds the woman's boob rested upon my forehead. awkward.

My face still feels like it is on fire. I want to punch someone in the neck.

Recently my face has decided to revolt against the norms of being 29. You guessed it. I'm again breaking out like I am 14 and in serious need of some proactiv. Oh Jessica, or Alyssa Milano, could you please send me your miracle cure?

I'm visiting the dermatologist in a week or so. I will forget to mention the pain I put myself through today.

oh the humor...

SO there is a person with whom I interact professionally... and everytime I am engaged with said person they mention that they need to pee. Yesterday, I asked if the person would like a drink before they went to meet some other people (diet coke, ddp, etc) and they said, "Well, I better go remove what I drank earlier before I add anything new."

This is odd to me.

Now I must go drive for 6 hours today--literally--this is not me exaggerating. I have a meeting in Houston which is 3 hours away. I'm thinking the meeting will last approximately 2 hours and then drive 3 hours back. If you know me, you know that I hate being in the car. A lot. However, if I am going to be in the car I like to sleep. I'm not sure this works if it's for work and you're riding with someone else?

I'll let you know.

The sound of the geunine.

Thurman discusses "the sound of the genuine." It's when your heart is connected with the Divine. Camp is the place in which I hear this sound. It isn't through the crispito. It isn't through the 32 ft. inflatable. It isn't through the magic of the golf cart. What happens is inexplicable. What happens is beyond words. It recalls me to a time of mystery.

Within my soul is a recollection of WHY I am there. There is a remembrance of the Lord's presence in my life. I LOVE being with high school students. I love being in creation. I love sarcastic humor. You may not see that these things are intrinsically related. Then again, you may not understand why I volunteer my time every year. You may not get this is where my husband and I profess our undying love for one another.

There are a lot of things you may not get. But what I will say is this... My soul feels complete. I can thing of nowhere else I would rather be. I am in love. I am faithful. I am responding to the call of the genuine.