Friday, October 25, 2013

FREE STUFF! FREE STUFF! HUZZAH HUZZAH FOR FREE STUFF!!!

Hello all my lovelies!

Today, I'm SO EXCITED to inform you that Cara from The Marvelous Flight of Cara (she's fabulous and a doll! If you aren't reading her blog, you need to! Like right now!), some lovely ladies of blogsphere, and I--YES ME!!! er I?--are hosting a beauty giveaway! We've banned together and are sending one lucky winner all of our favorite beauty products! Check it out!


sundayblythe
Violet from Blythe Ponytail Parades | Elise from Sunday Charm

shannonquillpen

shanerchaos

paisleydani
Colleen from Paisley Blvd. | Dani from Love Me, Dani Marie

joyfulkarissa
Karissa from Karissa & Company | Joyce from Joyful Outfits

glittersb
Heather from Glitter & Gloss | Amy from Sweet Home Santa Barbara

karlycandy
Tori from Eye Candy | Karly from Good Enough to Read

modernagape
Maria from Agape Love Designs | Allison from Modern Memo

Doesn't it just look fab? Seriously, you know it does.
 You'll just love it! So excited for you guys!

Open to US only. Sorry!

Catch-up and Mustard . . . or something . . .

Life has been weird. Good stuff, bad stuff, stuff I've tried writing about and then wondering if it should be just mine or for all of you, too. I can't decide. Maybe now it's just for me, but I'm sure you'll hear something of it one day.  Let's just say that life is not easy. For the first time in my life, I have little control of my own fate and it is unnerving.
But that doesn't mean that life is all bad or that we don't find love and joys in it. When things get hard, no matter how much you want to pull away, you have to hold even tighter. It's rough and humbling and sometimes the opposite of what you want to do, but you need to it. To hold on to each other and to the truths you hold dear.
Because life goes on and the story isn't over, yet.Thank goodness.

The visual summation of our relationship . . .
Okay, so this past weekend, we volunteered at a community outreach event. My job? Help set up a Photobooth tent and play photographer for any visitors and volunteers. So much fun!


I have all these post ideas running through my brain, some about life, some random thoughts, some getting back to my English major roots (are you ready for some character analysis??? Really?! Me too!! HUZZAH!!!). It's just all over the place.

I write them in my head, you see, while I'm doing the dishes and jamming to Florence and the Machine, and, I tell you what, they sound great. Then I sit down at my computer, and, golly, what was I going to say again? Has anyone invented like a thought-capture app? Maybe I should just narrate into a tape recorder or something and then transcribe it . . . or hire one of those court-room typists like that movie "Alex and Emma" (P.S. If you haven't seen this movie, go out and rent it now--SO CUTE).

I suppose, to some degree, I've been more absent, because, gosh and golly folks, I kinda have a life now. ISN'T THAT BIZARRE?!

I mean, really, I still can't fathom it.

 After eight months where walking the dog was the major highlight of my day, I almost have a life. I'm still not working (I've decided to try to job-hunt, for the time being, as soon as we get this surgery thing sorted and accomplished . . . I have never been so eager to have someone cut me up and dice me open, but, hey, let's just get this crap over with, right?), but we have made friends. No, really, we have.
Friends who like us . . . who like call me up out of the blue and are like, "Hey, let's do something in an hour!" So I rush to put on a real bra and out the door I go. It keeps me on my toes . . . and motivates me to clean the house more often.  Nothing maintains a tidy kitchen like the fear of filthy exposure . . . or something. It's so foreign to me.  Back in Florida, I had coworkers who were pals, but we were both pretty busy and lived across town from each other, so get-togethers outside of work were rare.  Other than that, we had family.  Family can definitely contain friends, but it's different. I can't explain it, but it is.  But now there are these people--people my own age, a few of them nerds, even--who want to see us. Like outside our mid-week church group and Sunday services. 



Last weekend, we had two couples over, and do you know what we did? Drank wine and ate fancy cheese on fruit like real, flippin, classy grown-ups.  I mean, really when did this happen? 
This weekend, I'm hosting a girls night with wine, dessert, and gourmet pizza with fruit and other oddities on it (why is it that fancy, grown-up foods must always combine fruits and cheese? Probably because it's awesome and it just took me until 26 to realize it). While we're being the grown-up kind of girly, the guys are heading out to go blow things up and cook red meat at a friend's place. 

When did this happen? How?

Because it's kind of awesome.
To have friends.
We had both forgotten how awesome companionship feels.  It's such a blessing, especially with all the stress and the mess that's been going on in our lives--the move, work, the miscarriage, just all of it. Chris told me that these new relationships are one of the main things really keeping him from trying to move back east. 
Because we had forgotten.
And now we remember what it feels like--to be wanted, accepted, to have someone smile and shout your name from across a room, to sit down at a dinner table with more than just us, to talk to other minds and hear other voices besides our own. To have that human contact--that connection--that all humans were made for.
We had forgotten.
Now we remember.
And it brings us smiles even when it's hard. 




Now, I need to go to bed so I can wake up super early and finish the laundry before anyone drops by . . .

More blog posts to come, I promise!
You few that stick with me, thank you SO much! Love you and can't wait to read more of your blogs, as well!

Have an awesome weekend, lovelies!

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Prepping

Peeps, since our last little chat, I finally got my surgery scheduled.
Isn't that a nasty word? "Surgery." It sounds like something slicing away. We always associate it with some sharp, some dire situation.
I have to stress the word MINOR when I have to explain why I'll be missing from group activities and Bible study on Wednesday. Otherwise, people look at me like I'm preparing to light my own funeral pyre. Not that I don't understand--if someone said, to me, that she were going into surgery, I might look at her the same way--surprised, concerned, care, all of those things decent humans feel for the other facing pain, but it's a bit embarrassing to be on the receiving end.  They tell me that I will WALK out of the hospital the same day I'm admitted, that I won't even need stitches. No, they're going to glue me back together like bits of paper. Tiny incisions, I won't even have battle scars, really, though they warned me there may be nasty bruising some time later.

I'll go under, the scope will go in, they make a small incision in my side, and cut out my little dermoid, then I'm glued back together, wake up, and I leave. It's as simple as that, they tell me.

Well, and, you know, the "bowel prep" the day before--today. Doesn't that just sound awful? Basically, I can have nothing--absolutely NOTHING--but fluids until midnight tonight, after which I may consume nothing at all. it makes sense--it really does. But golly . . . I really really REALLY want the homemade soup I have in the fridge. Or the leftover pizza. Or just . . . . you know, food.
Food IS good people. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise because, if ANYONE says food is bad, they're mentally unstable. I mean, really, mad to the maddest degree.

Food is awesome.

I miss food. It's been nineteen hours since I saw you last. Mmmmm food. We need to get back together sometime. Hopefully soon. REALLY soon.

In other news, Downton Abbey is kind of perfect for days like this. Mostly because you know they're preparing and eating food, but you can't really see it. Every time I watch something like Supernatural, I want a cheeseburger. Darn it, Dean! YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS CHEESEBURGERS!!!! -_-

If for some bizarre reason I don't come out of this alive, I want this to be the image people remember.
Or, you know, maybe not but . . . yeah, maybe this one.
And I request a Viking-style funeral.
Unless, you know, I come out of this alive and unscathed, which they tell me is very, VERY likely.
So much for an adventurous surgery, right? 

 UPDATE:

I just got off the phone with my doctor and, apparently, there was an issue with a blood test result. Again, NOTHING MAJOR, they say, but they don't want to operate and want to send me to a specialist.  Basically this means that, again, my life has been put on hold.
As it has been since the miscarriage in June.
This was our last step, our final step, to being fully physically recovered, the last phase before the greenlight.
And now we're waiting again.
I know there's a purpose and a reason in all of this, but I would be lying to you if I said I weren't crying or filled with disappointment. I suppose it's better than a mess on an operating table, but part of me wants to call the doctor back and scream, "I"m willing to risk it! Just, please, finish this so I can move on with my life!"
But I can't because they won't.

She tried to perk me up by saying, "Well, you can eat now."
I don't have the appetite.
Not only am I filled with laxatives, but now I just feel sick in spirit. And no pints of my favorite ice cream can fix that. Not right now. Maybe tomorrow.