Monday, June 24, 2013

The Wedding

Satan's Mistress (aka my yoga instructor Mary Ann) married Jason the Giant Friday and the wedding was fabulous! FABULOUS!!!!!!!!  

Why?  Because the bride and groom had the foresight to rent a photo booth to entertain the masses during lulls in the action.  Since I knew a total of three other guests, it was easy for me to corral them all into the booth before they really even realized what was happening.  Sadly, the pictures had kind of a "deer in the headlights" look to them and I just knew we could do better.

I'm an overachiever and that boring, normal, sub-par photo strip just didn't sit well with me.  How to spice things up?  Hmmm... Immediately after we received our photo strip, the woman who'd been behind us in line emerged from the photo booth with a little red feather on her shoulder.  Hey!  There were props in there that we hadn't noticed.  Jackpot!

I was only able to convince two of the original three ladies to get back in line with me for a "do over."  We piled back into the photo booth, this time grabbing boas, hats and a mask.  We were much happier with our photo strip results this time.  We were so happy, in fact, that we began arguing about who got to keep it.  Never the shy one, I asked the photo booth attendant (yes, that appears to be a legitimate job opportunity) if he could make us copies.  He said no, but we could go back in again.  Since he gave us official permission, it was a done deal.  

Luckily, there was now only a short line.  The other adults were off doing whatever ~ listening to toasts, watching the bride and groom cut the cake ~ something along those lines.  There were few kids in attendance so nobody was really competing with us for booth time.  

By now, we were feeling like silver fox models. This time as we were squeezing in, Mary grabbed an adorable flamingo hat and plopped it on her head, Diane donned sunglasses and I grabbed the best prop of all: a tall, attractive man that none of us knew.  I threw a purple boa on him just as the flashing commenced.  At first he was stunned and looked bit confused but soon we were all laughing so hard that the first set of pictures we took were pretty goofy.  We just stayed in the booth, laughing even harder.  We took a second, then a third set of pictures.
And that's how we met Srini, Mary Ann's boot camp buddy and a genuine good sport.  I'm pretty sure that during the ensuing conversation I invited myself to visit his parents in India and I'm certain he volunteered to teach me (and a few of my closest friends) how to cook authentic Indian food.  If that doesn't have potential for a future post, what does?  


Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Rickman!!

PS  Your cake was delicious.  I ate two-and-a-half pieces of it while no one was looking.  Was that wrong?    



Thursday, June 20, 2013

Metamorphosis

Wednesday night we were coming back from a trip to Georgia when we drove into a ferocious thunderstorm.  By the time it let up we were getting pretty hungry so we stopped in Greenville.  As we got out of the car, the air felt crisp, clean, cool.

Greenville is a charming city and we were strolling through it looking into the windows of artsy little shops and deciding which restaurant we wanted to try.  The longer we walked, the cooler the breeze seemed.  Finally, I remarked to Jerry that I was chilly and wished I had a sweater.

He replied.......

                         .....wait for it......

                                                      ......"It's 81 degrees out."


Slap me on the back and call me Bertha!  My transformation is complete - I'm a Southern Girl now, y'all.
Can you see goosebumps?


Thursday, June 6, 2013

Blood Pressure Rising

You know how you find a doctor that you really, really like and then she moves away?  That happened to me.  My doc told me I could follow her to her new practice, but it was in a different city and I'm just not a gifted driver.  Plus, I'm basically lazy.  

Everything changed when Suzy got bitten by a baby copperhead.  (For you snake non-phobics, the babies are the most dangerous so this was the scariest.)
    
When I saw Suzy on Memorial Day, her foot was deep purple and swollen.  We got to talking about doctors - specifically how much she liked hers - and it was then I realized that I was willing to make that drive after all.  The icing on the cake was that Suzy sees that same delightful doctor that I used to see.  So it was settled.  I called the next day and made an appointment.

The receptionist scheduled my visit for two days later at 8:00 am.  I was so excited to get in so fast that I ignored the warning sirens going off in my head.  Anyone who knows me is aware of my aversion to morning.  Because I tend to get lost easily, I would have to allow plenty of driving time, then add more for school buses.  That meant getting up during the dead of (my) night.

Two days later I dragged myself out of bed and threw myself into my vehicle. I plugged the address into my GPS.  Nothing happened.  I put in the zip code.  Nothing.  Apparently this city doesn't exist in the real world.  

Suzy had given me vague directions on how to get to the office.  I regretted only half-listening to her now but I did have the address and plenty of time, so I decided to just go.  Clarity, as it turns out, isn't one of the things I excel at when I'm sleep deprived.  A map would have been nice, too.

Weirdly, I made it to the city without incident and I even found the highway.  What I couldn't find was the 7000 block.  The numbering went from 8000 to 6000.  I was mystified.  I drove in the other direction long enough to satisfy myself that it went away from town.  Back in the right neighborhood, I kept driving slowly up and down this same stretch of busy highway, like I was Nancy Drew, girl detective, searching for a hidden driveway or some secret clue.  

After way too many passes as well as a bit of horn-honking from the impolite drivers all around me, I decided to pull off the road and call the office.  Nobody answered.  Then it clicked.  It wasn't eight o'clock yet.  I was the first appointment.  Ain't nobody gonna be answering those phones.  

I drove up and down the highway again a couple more times and then I got the inspired idea to wander down the road a bit further, even though it defies logic. (I was sleepy, not stupid.  My logical brain was functioning perfectly well, thank you very much.)  Sure enough, I stumbled onto the office.  This may be the only city in America where the blocks are numbered 8000, 6,000, 5,000 THEN 7,000.  Kudos to them!  I admire creativity wherever it is.  Frankly, I was just shocked to find it in the numeric system.  Life is full of surprises!  

I was ten minutes late.  The driving itself was stressful and the knowledge I was late added to my tension.  After I was ushered in, the first thing the nurse did was take my blood pressure with this fancy machine.  It was 138 over God- knows-what.  I was so freaked out about the 138 that I couldn't focus.  I asked the nurse to recheck it and she took it with her stethoscope so it would be more accurate.  The top number was now 130.   This was much, much higher than normal for me and I was obsessing that I might get diagnosed with hypertension.  

My doctor visit went well.  It was definitely worth the effort to get there.  As we were wrapping up our talk, my dear doc decided to give me a shingles vaccine and then she hugged me goodbye. (I love this woman!)  

I asked the nurse if she'd take my b/p again.  She said yes, she'd do it right before she gave me the shot.  I am one big bag of phobias stacked on top of another and perhaps a blood pressure reading right before a shot isn't the best timing, but I was willing to take that chance.  

The nurse left the room for about ten minutes and I took advantage of that time by doing a relaxation meditation.  I went on a quick trip to the beach.  When we both returned to the room, my blood pressure was 114/70. Yahoo!  

I got the vaccine.  They did not, however, give me a sucker.

AND there's even some exciting news from my doctor visit:  When the nurse measured my height, I was a half-an-inch taller than on my last visit.  If I keep growing at this pace, in a mere ten years my weight will finally be a perfect match for my height.

                                              *    *     *

P.S. Snakebite Suzy's much improved and grateful that she didn't need to get the anti-venom shot.  It cost six thousand dollars.  That's almost more frightening to me than the snakebite itself!  Almost.