Tuesday, March 27, 2012


I"m feeling a lot better so thank you for your well wishes...I even did spin class today (can't miss JayVee's spin class!) and no, I was not supposed to but I did it anyway...

so on with the blog...

I have this little bracelet.

It is adorable.

I wear it every day.

In fact, I have not taken it off my wrist since the Tamster gave it to me for my birthday just before Thanksgiving.

Here's a photo:

I love it...love it love it love it

It's called a "karma" bracelet and it is from a company called Dogeared Jewels. At the end of the blog I will post a link to their website...

Whenever I look at the bracelet I think about:
1)how sweet my friend Tamster is and how she has supported me
2)how sweet and pretty the bracelet is
3)what the bracelet represents...karma

So what is "karma"?

The dictionary (from dictionary.com) defines it as:

kar·ma   [kahr-muh]
1. Hinduism, Buddhism . action, seen as bringing upon oneself inevitable results, good or bad, either in this life or in a reincarnation: in Hinduism one of the means of reaching Brahman. Compare bhakti ( def. 1 ) , jnana.
2. Theosophy . the cosmic principle according to which each person is rewarded or punished in one incarnation according to that person's deeds in the previous incarnation.
3. fate; destiny. Synonyms: predestination, predetermination, lot, kismet.
4. the good or bad emanations felt to be generated by someone or something: Lets get out of here. This place has bad karma.

Ok, I'm a Christian, not Buddhist, but I do see karma as actions that we do will result in other actions...in other words, we reap what we sow...

(Isn't that Christian?)

I do believe if you do something ugly or nasty to someone that it will come back and bite you in the ass...that you will eventually "get yours".

And if you do something nice for others, that you will be rewarded...

It all comes full circle...just like the bracelet....

So I often look down on my wrist when I am doing something I am not sure is quite right...or when I am making an effort to do something for someone else that is taking a lot of time or effort from me.

Now I am hoping that karma doesn't come and bite me because today I did a spin class against doctors orders...but I have been living under the vicious circle of karma this last week so I decided to break the cycle and just roll with something that may or may not benefit me.

I'll let you know if it worked or not in a minute.

So what is this cycle I have been in?

I was doing great...living healthy...finally getting off those last few pounds. The scale was sliding down. I was feeling really fit. I was increasing my speed in spin and burning more calories. I was lifting more weight than I had before and my arms and legs were looking really great.


I got sick.

Talk about a set-back...

I lost days of my life to being stuck in a bed with an iv in my arm...
I missed my son's birthday...
I did not get to workout for 4 days (ok that sounds like nothing to some of you but for me it is HUGE)
I had a lot of pain
I had a lot of frustration

I had surgeons who never showed up (oh, and I do believe Karma is gonna bite that idiot in the butt that told me that I had only not been seen in one day when it had been 55 hours...um in my book that is 2 days and 7 hours).

But here is the big "let's bite Anice with this one"...despite not having food for 2 days, and living on ice chips and then broth for a day...


Let me say that again....I GAINED ALMOST 10 POUNDS!!!!!

What the hell?

I did a little research...it seems you can gain a lot of weight from iv fluids. It's the saline solution they pump into you and the other stuff they put in it. A lot of water weight.

And then they put me on broth...

hello...salt and water basically with a little flavoring...

I was bloated...miserably bloated...I couldn't button my jeans...and my nightgown even felt tight. I looked 5 months pregnant.

(Ok, some of that was swelling from the intestinal inflammation)

I complained endlessly about it to AngelAmy...I told her I felt like the "StayPuff Marshmallow Man".

My fingers were swollen...my belly was "poochy" and I felt "jiggly" all over...

I've been drinking water like mad trying to flush it all out.

So yesterday I went to the gym and did a gentle workout on the arc trainer...just to get my metabolism moving again.

It worked...a bit...last night I went to bed with a tight nightie and I woke up this morning and it was loose again...not as loose as last week but definitely better.

I did spin today (like I said, I never miss JayVee's class if I can help it) and I felt really good after...and it felt good to sweat.

I've lost some water weight but my fingers still feel like sausages and my belly still seems poochy to me but it's better.

Sadly I can tell I had a setback in spin...I lost my speed and struggled to keep up...but then again I had iv's in my arms 48 hours before so I guess that should be expected...

So what did I do to deserve this fate?

Was it my karma?


It was a result of a medical problem...nothing I did brought it on...so not karma...

So why am I complaining about it in a blog I call "karma"?

Well, for one I have a captive audience and sometimes I just like to complain....

But more for the reason that I think we all wonder "why the hell did this happen to me?" at one time or another.

And as I lay in that bed and pondered it (while under the influence of dilaudid) I did determine that it seems nothing I did contributed to my laying in bed. It is just my body. Although it may have something to do with once having been quite overweight...which is an action I did that resulted in other actions.

But I didn't do something evil to someone that resulted in my being punished for my actions and that is why I was in Methodist hospital.

It's the other things we do...like when we gossip about someone...or when we deliberately ignore someone who needs help (and not I don't mean the dude begging in the street) or when we do something we just know isn't right.

I"ve talked before about having done things like that...like ignoring someone in my life that I promised to always stand by (she forgave me), etc. Karma rewarded me for that by her forgiving me and we now have a great relationship and I have been rewarded by it.

I don't want to get preachy here tonight...I really was just looking to complain about my water weight gain but when I was in spin class today and looked at my wrist and then looked over at the Tamster spinning near me and how much her small action of dragging me back to spin has made a huge difference in my life...well, that was when I started thinking that small actions, good or bad, can have big consequences.

So, if you need a little reminder to "be good" (while in the hospital I watched "E.T." again and that has stuck with me too), find a little something to tell you to do so.

For me it is the little bracelet.

I need to be good...I want good karma...I want a good life...

As much as I have a healthy body...

and would love to date a man who drives a big-ass truck, what I really want to do in my life is to be good to others...

to love others...
to help others...
to be there for others...
to listen to others...
to do small things that others don't notice me doing but that have good results...
to quietly help...
and to joyously spread my love...

I know I will be hugely rewarded...

but it is not the reward that I am after...but the joy of knowing that my good actions resulted in some good for others...

Here's the dogeared website:


to get to the bracelets, click on bracelets at the top and then click on "karma" on the left....all of their stuff is adorable!

Inspiration Song: "Karma" by Alicia Keyes...I love her...gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice...

Bye darlings...what goes around comes around...so be sure what goes around with you is all good stuff...

Monday, March 26, 2012

Games People Play

You know People...I will do just about ANYTHING to write a blog to entertain you...

So, my blog readers, I decided that landing myself in the hospital would make excellent fodder for a blog.

Well, not really...

I mean, I DID end up in the hospital, but it was far from intentional.

Actually, it was my lower GI tract that decided that I was feeling far too healthy (and so I was burning the candle at both ends) and that by acting up I would not only slow down but I would have great material for the blog so that you might be entertained by my plight.

It all started Thursday...no make that Wednesday...

I went to Body Pump that evening (as usual) and picked up some Thai soup on the way home. Don't know why I went with soup---I usually run with pad thai or the grilled lemongrass beef---but fate was smiling on me (well, not exactly smiling...more like smirking).

When I got home with the soup I told AngelAmy that I was feeling a bit nauseated and not feeling so well so I ate a bit of soup and headed to bed...

at 8:30

that is sooooooo not me.

I was asleep by 9:30.

Again...soooooo not me.

In the middle of the night I started feeling...shall we say "funky"?

I knew I was in trouble when I woke up and didn't feel well enough to help with a project at school and then I knew I was in big time trouble when I knew I didn't feel well enough to go to J'taime Jamie's spin class.

If I am going to miss spin then I am either:
1)stuck with a project or meeting I can't get out of no matter what
2)one of my children is ill or needs me to take them to the doctor or meeting or something
3)I am at death's door

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen...the answer to "why did Anice miss spin?" is #3...

I'm kidding...I wasn't LITERALLY at death's door but what I had was nothing to fool around with....and I have had a friend die from it.

What I have...if you have been a long-time reader of this blog...was a re-occurance of my "how the hell did this happen to me?" divirticulitis.

(If you want a refresher course on it you can refer to my July 2010 blog called "The Word of My Body") or just know it is an inflammation and infection of the GI tract.

So I headed to my fabulous doctor's office and she took a look at me and pressed on my stomach and after I came off the table in pain screaming she said:

"Yeah, you are going to the ER to get a CT scan. Where do you want to go?"

Ummmm...I DON'T want to go but if I must I will return to the Methodist ER on Kirby and 59 like I did 2 years ago.

Good choice because it is an EXCELLENT ER. As for the hospital...more on that later...

Once settled in at the ER the fun began.

First came more poking and prodding...then I was offered up a fabulous cocktail of Sprite and contrast dye.

Then the REAL fun began...

Let's play a game called "find a vein in Anice's arm where you can start an iv since she is deydrated and sick".

Poor Christina the nurse...she was the unlucky one to draw the straw to be the one to start my iv and draw the blood.

Stick #1...she couldn't get it to flow...in fact when she withdrew the needle it didn't even bleed (but I have a lovely bruise now to prove her attempt).

Stick #2...again, no go...

Then the REAL REAL fun began.

Because I passed out.

Yup...right there laying in the bed in the ER...flat on my back. I remember telling Christina that I was "very very dizzy" and then the next thing I remember the ER doc and a bunch of nurses are standing over me tapping on me and asking me if I was ok.

Christina said I turned blue and my eyes rolled back...scared the poor dear to death.

After that little setback Christina left it up to another nurse to start the line and get the iv going. She managed to get it in with a minimum of pain...in fact while it was in I hardly noticed it at all.

I drank my drink, rested a bit, got a shot of a lovely drug to help with the pain and off to CT I went...and sure enough I had divirticulitis again.

Big surprise...

No, it was!

Because I have not eaten any of the so-called "trigger" foods (nuts, popcorn, things with seeds) and I eat a ton of fibrous fruits and veggies. I have come to find out since from the doctors the trigger foods are not necessarily "triggers" (and I have partaken of them like a thief in the night) and it can just happen.

Then the ER doc informs me I also MAY have a blockage and suggests that I might need surgery or to have a tube stuck down my nose into my stomach for 24 hours.

Hell to the No!!!!!!!

Oh, and here is the BEST part...I would not be allowed to be sedated at all...I would barely be allowed pain meds but only very light ones.

Hell to the No to the power of 1000!!!!!

I've had that before...when I had a broken jaw...I had it twice. And for some reason at that time I was allowed to be sedated and on morphine. And it still drove me insane to have that NG tube down my nose...I felt like I was choking. I flew paper airplane messages to the nurses telling them to take it out or I was.

So that obviously was NOT an option.

I'll take what is behind Door #1 Monty Hall...I'll take my risks at surgery. Because Door #2 is the zonker (the NG tube) and there is no way I am going home with that prize.

So I decided to roll the dice and agreed to go to the hospital for observation and prayed that I would not be "blocked" and would not be cut on. I mean I would get cut on if I HAD to...and if they promised a tummy tuck along with it! The only abdominal surgery I plan to have is when Dr. Bonnie Baldwin does my tummy tuck...

AngelAmy was with me...she was my witness to my refusal...and she was my source of strength for all I was going through...and then she went above and beyond and went and packed me a bag to have at the hospital.

So off to Methodist I went.

I thought AngelAmy could just take me there.


I had to go by ambulance?


I drove myself to the ER...I couldn't drive to the hospital (I knew that...plus I had pain killers by then) but I do not understand why I had to ride in the ambulance...and it was NOT a comfortable ride.

Here is the fabulous photo I took while I was riding in the meat wagon chariot:

They took me right up to my room and got me settled in. I had the most wonderful nurses---Miss Cody and Miss Yvonne...they took amazing care of me and were very sweet and wonderful.

Once I was settled in, AngelAmy came up with my bag and helped get me and kept me company. Aunt Jane (the best person in the world) was there too. I think I might have pulled that iv out and walked out of the hospital if not for them.

And so began my frustrating journey to get well...and to not become to fond of Dilaudid (the pain killer).

I was visited by my admitting doctor...a man I had never met but since my regular doc does not have privileges at Methodist, they had to assign one to me. They also put me up on a floor with all the Alzheimer's and Dementia patients...

NO THAT WAS NOT A SIGN...but it was funny...and did make me a highly coveted patient since I could talk and walk...and I was the YOUNGEST on the floor

Then came a parade of "Grey's Anatomy" characters I like to call my surgeons...they were all residents. I never saw the "real" doctor/surgeon. He is a myth...like a unicorn...but I will get billed by him all the same.

So first I got "Christina Yang" who was all excited to tell me how I should probably have surgery and let them cut out a section of my colon.

Settle down, Yang...not gonna do it...

She was cute and sweet but a little to ready to cut...

Then came "Lexie Grey" who was adorable and had a cute headband and banging sharp eyeliner.

She was calmer and not so ready to cut...

I asked if I could eat...oh, and how I loved the answer:

"ice chips"

That is NOT dinner...especially if you only had a cup (literally a cup) of thai soup the night before and a cup of tea that morning. But I felt bad enough that I was ok with it.

I was woken up all night by nurses poking and prodding me...par for the course.

At 5:30 am I was woken by another surgical resident. We can call him "Owen Hunt". He told me he didn't think I needed surgery. That was good news. He was the last member of Grey's Anatomy I saw for some time.

I spent the day having blood drawn, being given meds, and just laying in the bed trying to feel better.

I named the little iv pump "R2D2"..."he" made little whirring and beeping sounds. He was my constant companion. Literally...

He also got temperamental and would sound an alarm if I moved funny. Which made the nurses scurry in to check on me...

I saw my admitting doc again and asked if I could eat...I was now at 48 hours without food. He said it was up to the surgery team.


Where the hell was "Meredith Gray"? Or better yet "McDreamy" or "McSteamy" or the dude with the amazing green eyes?

Um, obviously NOT taking care of me. I didn't see a surgeon all day. So I lived on ice chips again.

And was hungry

And cranky

The only good thing was that AngelAmy and Twirler Girl came to see me. That made things a lot better. We sadly were missing the usual bottle of wine we enjoy when getting together.

AngelAmy brought me lilies to make my room smell nice and Twirler Girl brought Gerber daisies to brighten the room up as well.

AngelAmy helped me to shower and dress in my regular nightgown and that sure helped me feel better.

Then the best medicine in the world came...

The Cutest Boy in the World!!!!

He came to visit courtesy of my nice ex husband and he was better than a pain killer.

After everyone left Cody the nurse discovered that the panel controlling the nurses "call" button was not working. So for amusement she decided to redecorate my room...so we moved the bed to the other side and rearranged the furniture.

Hey, it was something to do...

I got through another night with R2D2 whirring away and feeling a bit better but still hungry and cranky.

The next morning I got up and my awesome nurse Nicole decided to take matters into her own hands. It was Saturday and I had been given nothing but ice chips and iv fluids since Wednesday night. So she called the surgeon.

Mind you I had not seen one person from surgery since 5:30 the morning before so they agreed over the phone to let me have "clear liquids".


The surgical head resident also promised to come by and check on me. Um, isn't that why I was stuck in this predicament? That my guts could possibly explode or abscess? Shouldn't they be checking me for that? Hello? That is why I was IN the hospital and not home!!!!

I got to "order" food...room service this was not...

more like Jeopardy...

"Um, I'll take broth for $200 Alex and jello for $100"

Here was the menu...Cafe Annie it was not:

Doesn't that just look DELICIOUS!

At that point I truly didn't care...and when they delivered my tray, I wolfed it down. Now if you are eating as you read this you might not want to look at the photo because you will lose your appetite. And yes I even drank the Diet Shasta...but was jonesing for a diet Dr Pepper!

Now here is the most heartbreaking part of the entire story...

It was Saturday, March 24...and it was my son's birthday.

Yes, I was in the hospital on my son's birthday!

I cried a lot about it.

He was ok about it but I was not. I wanted to take him and some friends to see "The Hunger Games". I wanted to take him to dinner. I wanted to bake his birthday cake.

It was a horrible day.

To top it off I never saw a surgeon that day.

Then, the "cherry on top of the sundae" occurred...my vein that the iv was in burned up and blew...it gave out...I stared bleeding and it was swelling up.

Time to change the iv.

My veins were shot by then.

Lucky for me Trainer Girl and De-Nice had come to see me so they were keeping me occupied.

The nurse, a very sweet man named Dexter, tried to start a line.

It hurt like hell. I started crying and screaming like one of the dementia patients. De-Nice came and held my hand and told him that I was a pretty tough cookie so it must be really hurting me. He took it out and tried again.


notice I didn't put an exclamation point at the end of that...because it was a success but not a roaring one. The last iv I had didn't hurt at all and this one bothered and tugged at me all the time. But I wasn't willing to go through it all again.

The girls kept me company and we had fun even if we were stuck in a hospital room.

It would have been so much better if we had had some wine.

I had dilaudid instead...

Once they left I went to sleep and managed to get a semi-descent night's rest.

The next morning Nicole was back and she was having none of it. She declared she was getting me outta there.

So she changed my diet to "soft" and told me to order food and see if it stayed down.

I opted for eggs and a bagel.

They were awful but the first real food I had in days so I rolled with it.

She called the admitting/attending guy and he said if surgery cleared me he would clear me to go home...so now we waited on the mythical creature called "surgical resident" or "surgeon"

At that point I think I believed more in chupacabras and fairies.

Somewhere about the time I was ordering lunch he appeared.

He was NOT McDreamy...and most certainly NOT McSteamy...

But hey...he was McSurgicalResident

He apologized for "not making it by to see me" the day before because he was "buried with patients and cases".

I informed him that it had been 2 days since I had seen ANYONE from surgery and that nothing had moved forward with my care because of it.

He said "but it HASN'T been 2 days...someone saw you Friday!"

I said "yes, at 5:30 am...it has been 50+ hours since I saw him...that makes 2 days in my book".

He said it was one...

Then I informed him because no one could be bothered to check on me I missed my son's birthday.

He felt bad then...but not bad enough to hand me Dr. R*********'s card (who he works for) "so that he could continue with my care".

Hell to the no

He cleared me to go home. Which could have happened the day before.

I'm not a doctor but I know that on Saturday I was well enough to go home and I know how to do a clear liquid diet.

So I ate my "soft food" lunch of chicken and veggies and Nicole unhooked R2D2 from me, but left the port in "just in case".

I can't say I miss R2D2 all that much.

We didn't want to play "find a vein" again if we had to.

So I got dressed and waited for my ex who sweetly picked me up and had my son in tow.

I packed up and was taken downstairs to my car once I was cleared and the iv was removed from my vein. I got in my ex's suburban and was blissfully home at 2:45.

And home is most certainly the best place to be.

So what did I learn from all of this?

Well, for one, I thought I had been playing Russian Roulette with my intestines when I ate popcorn (only a few bites in the last 2 years) or nuts (ok, I have done that). Turns out the "trigger" foods are a myth...and this proved it...I had not had a trigger food.

Getting a doctor assigned to you when you don't know one to use is a crap shoot. And I ended up with crap.

That nurses are like a prize...when you have good ones, they are the BEST. Lucky for me each and every one of them was like the prize in the Cracker Jack.

I'm better today...I even enjoyed a glass of wine last night and today I did a gentle workout on the arc trainer. I'm getting better and stronger all the time.

And here's the best news of all...I get to have a colonoscopy in a few weeks. But hey I blew through my huge deductable (oh yeah...that was the best part...my deductable is so high that I could have gone to Hawaii with the kids for what I spent at Methodist on bad food and a room with no view), so it will basically be free.

And no, I will NOT be blogging about THAT (the colonoscopy)!

Now if I can only figure out how to make insurance pay for the tummy tuck!

Inspiration song: "Games People Play" by The Alan Parson's Project. And old 70's tune. Fitting because this all became like some sort of game...or a bad game show...

Bye Darlings...one things we should not play games with is our health...trust me, this was a wake up call...

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Sarah Smile

How was your spring break?

Mine went by all too fast and was far too brief!

I spent the first half of spring break here in town just enjoying not having a schedule or having to get anyone to school.

But my break started off badly...and with a bang...or should I say "ring".

You see, Ke$ha Barbie, because she is "Princess of Quite a Lot" along with sometimes being Satan, was lucky enough to have mom agree that she could go to the Bahamas along with most of her senior class.

I had arranged with another mom for the girls to leave from their place (a 6:00 am flight which meant they had to leave for the airport at 4:00 am) and my ex was to pick them up from the airport.

Hey...it worked for me...

So Ke$ha Barbie's friend's mommy arranged for a car to take them to the airport...at 4:00 am.

At 3:45 am I got a phone call from American Airlines informing me that her flight was delayed by 2 hours...but since a car was taking them they still had to go.

At 4:30 am I got a call from Ke$ha Barbie informing me she had left her credit card I gave her for emergencies at the Indian food restaurant the night before.

That...the Indian food dinner...was NOT an emergency in my book...


I asked her where her debit card was.

Answer: "In my truck"

Which was parked in our garage.

So I got up and drove to the airport at 4:30 am to give her a card and have her tell me "thank you so much mom and please don't say the words "Natalie Halloway" to me again!"

I went home and went back to bed.

And missed body pump...damn...

So then I showed up to do spin and almost didn't get a bike. It's like the whole world...or rather our whole club...decided to go to spin class that day. We have 22 bikes...the instructor rides one...we turned 8 people away...for our club, that's a lot...

Trainer Dawn joined me later and we had fun...I met her new adorable boyfriend and she was with me when I got the joyous news my son had been accepted to his high school of choice.

So what started out bad ended well...I even was a nice ex-wife and suggested that the ex and I take The Cutest Boy in the World out to dinner to celebrate together.

It was fine but not something I want to do all the time. Otherwise I would still be married to him...

So the rest of the week was fine and a bit of a blur...and then Thursday came and I got to escape Houston with KuteKaren so we could take SuperSarah to her horse show.

You see, KuteKaren injured herself at Christmas and unfortunately still cannot drive...it's a bit hard to do so when you have a broken right knee. And her husband was not able to go out to Florida with her...


they elected me to be the driver! 'Cause SuperSarah says I am "fun in a box"...I still am not sure what that means but I know it is good because she is awesome and loves me.

So I was "Driving Miss Karen" (rather than "Driving Miss Daisy").

The trip stared off great enough...we got to the airport in plenty of time and stepped right up to the check in counter...

You know this is where I tell you that things went horribly wrong, right?

Yup...things went south from there...

KuteKaren had also bought a ticket for Miss Morgan the photographer (and friend)...let's just call her MM for short...and we thought it was all under control.

It would have been had we been flying Continental.

But apparently we are now under the dictatorship of United Airlines and it has all gone to hell in a handbasket. United does NOT believe in Customer Service or making things easy.

Let's have a moment of silence for the good airline that was once Continental.

So MM says for us to go ahead and go thru security since it may take a bit with KuteKaren on crutches. So we leave her with the United check-in person that was obviously not going to be helpful...or smart...that day.

As SuperSarah would say: "How many times do you have to flunk the GED to become a United check-in person?"

My answer...maybe twice.

Now, let me tell you...having someone on crutches DOES help you get thru security faster. I don't recommend you try it to see if it helps, but if you ARE on crutches, well it just might...

But it does NOT mean you don't have to go thru the body scanner without them so they can scan your crutches...


She's on CRUTCHES...hello?

She got thru ok and we flagged down one of those flying carts (you know...not because they take you to your flight but because they FLY down the corridors and I think they purposely try to take out people).

MM was still trying to check in.

We had ourselves delivered to Pappadeaux's and figured MM would join us at any moment.



KuteKaren had to go BACK to check in and deal with it. SuperSarah and I ate our dinner and ordered dinner for them and met them at the gate.

When we arrived we found KuteKaren wiping her eyes...I was afraid MM was not going to get to go but she was there. KuteKaren was crying because she was so moved by having just witnessed the flight bring in a fallen soldier. It seems that they have the firetrucks line up and spray water over the plane when it has a soldier who died for his/her country.

Now THAT is lovely...

So we finally get on our (delayed) flight and head to Palm Beach. We arrive around 11:00 or so...get our bags and head to the Hertz bus.

You know this is where I tell you that things went horribly wrong, right?



We get to the Hertz counter to pick up our prepaid car. We are 3rd in line.

It seems that we were lucky enough to be served that night by the slowest and worse Hertz counter service man that they had.

He moved...













(the speed of a glacier)

As SuperSarah said "How many times do you have to flunk the GED to work at the Hertz check out counter?"

Apparently you must flunk it at least 4 times...because this guy had no clue...about anything.

The first guy in line just wanted to switch cars...it took 30 minutes to process that. The second guy just wanted another copy of the contract for the car his father had rented earlier that day...it took 30 minutes to process what could have been accomplished in 3 keystrokes.

I was 3rd...or rather I WAS 3rd...but I briefly jumped out of line (because I was the last one in line) and got a bottle of water...and another man jumped in ahead of me. The only reason I didn't fight him about it was because he had a 3 hour drive ahead of him and it was now 1:00 am in the morning.

It took 30 minutes to rent him a car.

KuteKaren and I made friends with the guys in line behind us. We spent so much time with them I am now engaged to one of them and facebook friends with the other.


but it could have happened...we spent enough time with them that I could almost call it a date. One of them threatened to jump the counter and grab keys..I told him to go for it and I would run interference as long as he grabbed 2 sets of keys...and please try and grab the ones to the Mercedes if he could...

One of the guys decided to time how long it took for me to get my prepaid for car. There was now a LONG line of people waiting for cars...at 1:30 in the morning.

17 minutes...that is how long it took...for me to scan my credit card and sign.

When I was done I ran over to the guys in line behind us...tagged them "you are IT!" and wished them luck...I think the rest of the line applauded.

We still had to get to the hotel and check into our rooms. The girls headed to bed...KuteKaren and I headed to our room.

You know this is where I tell you things went horribly wrong, right?




Uh...no...sorry...not happening

We switched rooms...by the time we got to bed it was 3:30 in the morning.

I got up the next morning by 8:30 and managed to get myself to the hotels tiny little gym and spent 45 minutes on the really crappy (but hey I sweated) elliptical machine. We had breakfast with the girls and they elected to go back to their rooms and sleep some more.

KuteKaren and I decided to head to Palm Beach (we were actually staying in Wellington) and check out Worth Avenue. We were so proud of ourselves for navigating ourselves there!

Worth Avenue...


Gorgeous...and fabulous shopping.

We were having a grand time until the horse trainer called and needed us to bring SuperSarah to the barn.

Well we were there for a horse show after all...so we complied.

We got back on the road with the intent to get there just when the trainer wanted. We headed towards the turnpike.

You know this is where I tell you it all went horribly wrong, right?

So we were halfway to Orlando before we could turn around and head back in the direction we needed to go...and wouldn't you know the trainer changed her mind and told us we didn't have to get there quite so quickly....


Oh well....we headed to lunch and just as we are about 3/4 of the way through the trainer decides we need to have SuperSarah there right then and there. So KuteKaren and MM stayed and finished their lunch and I drove SuperSarah to the barn and went back for the girls.

I have never seen so many horses, ponies, and little girls in all my life.

It was like super summer camp for riding girls on steroids...barns and stables and girls and ponies as far as the eyes can see...MILES of it...

I grew up in horse world but I have never seen anything like this.

I also got to experience what SuperSarah calls a golf cart traffic jam. There were more golf carts at that horse show than at all the country clubs and golf courses in Palm Beach.

Now you should know...I am totally Danica Patrick with a golf cart! Totally...

We had a great dinner that night and hit the bed a bit earlier than the night before. I still tossed and turned...I was missing my temperpedic! The next morning we woke to find that SuperSarah was not feeling well so a quick run to the drug store and we had her well medicated and we found a deli/bagel place and had a diet breaking breakfast of a (shared) bagel and lox eggs benedict. Yummy...

SuperSarah and her beautiful horse Calistoga (Cali for short) had a nice run in the show ring and I spent the time she was on that horse with my heart in my throat (jumping makes me nervous) and in awe of SuperSarah....and I took pictures.

Here is SuperSarah with Cali...aren't they both beautiful?

After that we headed back to the hotel for a clean up and headed to dinner in Palm Beach.

If you are in Palm Beach I highly recommend you eat at Echo. MM suggested it and it was the best suggestion of the trip.

Asian food.

Really really good Asian food.

Part of the Breakers Hotel...

I had miso glazed sea bass. It melted in my mouth. KuteKaren had delicious pad thai, SuperSarah had lemon chicken and MM had the best fried rice I ever tasted. KuteKaren also had a cosmo in the cutest glass ever...here's a pic:

Dinner was the bomb...and I also discovered that saketini's are delicious...I had 2. We also made friends with the guy at the hostess stand...does that make him the host? He was hilarious. He loved that I had lost 150 pounds...and he kept coming to check on us and we made sure he knew that Houston women are the bomb...and I told him that my only regret was that I was not hungry enough to eat the sea bass twice...but then it was time for dessert...

You know that this is where things went horribly wrong, right?

Um yeah...it appears that the entire reason we were there was so we could have dessert.

Chocolate chocolate chip souffle...


and yes we shared it (we had 2 for the table...one for the girls and one for the big girls)...

Totally worth every sugar gram and calorie...I would marry it if it was legal...it was sweeter and more satisfying than most men I know.

We headed to the hotel and got up and packed up so we could get SuperSarah to the show again.

It was great...and SuperSarah was having a terrific run with Cali...flying over the jumps with grace....looking so very amazing...

You know this is where things went horribly wrong, right?

I don't know what it was...and neither does SuperSarah...and neither does the trainer...but Cali "spooked".

One minute she was flying over a jump and the next she was rearing up and bucking a bit.

SuperSarah held on and then slid off and settled Cali down.

She was amazing...and a true picture of grace.

She walked Cali out from the show ring...deciding it was better to just end it than to make the horse continue when something was wrong.

Smart of SuperSarah.

She will not have to go work at Hertz or United...unless she decides to run them.

So we said goodbye to Cali and the friends at the show and headed to lunch and the airport.

I had no trouble returning the rent car and we hung out at the airport until our flight.

We got on the plane and I finished up reading "The Hunger Games" (great book). The flight was smooth.

You know this is where things went horribly wrong, right?

WRONG...it was all good...

We got back and the only trouble we had was that is took a while for our bags to be unloaded.

We had a hilarious ride in the cart with a guy who thought he was not just supposed to drive us but to give us a comedy routine.

He says to us as he let us out: "This is a great job! I get to pick up women all day long and I don't get slapped!"

So we got back from the airport, had some dinner and I dropped the girls off and came home to see my children.

It was a great, fun, and amazing weekend...and I would do it all again in a heartbeat...

In fact, I plan to...

I just told KuteKaren I would love to go again...she says next time we are staying at the Breakers...

I'm packing my bag now!

Inspiration Song: "Sarah Smile" by Hall and Oates...because I love to see SuperSarah smile...it is a gorgeous smile on a gorgeous girl...and it is never bigger than when she is on her Cali!

Bye Darlings...things may go horribly wrong but you can make them all right...and still have fun...especially when you are with friends like KuteKaren and SuperSarah!

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Destination Unknown

What they heck is going on...

I've had more pageviews on my last 2 blogs in a 48 hour period than most of my blogs get in over a week...


Ok, I'm kidding...

Because it really thrills me...

If I can't sit on the couch with Oprah and discuss my book, at least here I can feel like someone is listening to me in some way.

And you know I love an audience.

I really thought I might have a panic attack when the divorce was final...or after it was final. I worried that I would be driving down the street and suddenly I would have to pull over and stop so I could start breathing again.

Didn't happen.

I'm driving just fine and so far my breathing is normal...except for when I am on the spin bike and then I am breathing hard and fast...which I should be...

I worried that I would wake up in the morning and wonder what the hell I had done...or wake up in the middle of the night and panic and be unable to get back to sleep.

Didn't happen.

I wake up just fine...tired maybe cause I went to bed too late because I like to watch Jimmy Kimmel or because Ke$ha Barbie has kept me up...but I wake up just fine and ready to go to the gym...and no waking up at 3 AM with a panic attack.

I worried that suddenly I would panic and get afraid and start eating everything in sight.

Didn't happen.

I"m eating good and healthy...actually my weight is sliding down again.

So no panic attacks, no lack of sleep, no bad eating.

I'm at peace with what has happened. It actually went down better than I thought it would.

So where do I go from here?

I'm single...47, divorced with 2 kids, and single.

I live in a house that is really too big for me...and certainly too big for when Ke$ha Barbie leaves and it is just me and The Cutest Boy in the World (and I only get him part time).

I drive a Suburban that is almost 10 years old...and it's not doing too well...and boy does it eat gas.

I don't have a job but need one...and there is not a whole lot I am qualified to do.

I have a daughter headed off to college and a son going to high school in the fall.

I really don't know where my life is going.


But am I worried?


I do sorta have a game plan. And I have some help.

I have my new church and I think Pastor Kenny and Pastor Scott are really helping me to examine my heart and take a good inventory of myself. And I'm learning a lot from them. And I feel I am growing closer to God, growing spiritually, and making myself a better person...and doing the hard work NOW so when I do meet a really nice man who drives a big ass truck I am the person he is looking for.

I"m going to sell my house. I'm not ready right this minute, but hey, if you know someone who wants my house, send 'em on to me and let's save on the realtor fees!

And I DO know where I want to go after I sell this place...I have a neighborhood all picked out and I know I can afford it and it will be just perfect for me an TCBITW...and Ke$ha Barbie when she comes to visit...if she comes to visit...

I'm going to look for a job...I don't know what I can do but if there is a job that let's me nurture, shop, cook, dry tears, kiss and hug and love on kids, and take care of people then I am perfect.

Oh wait...

That is a WIFE and MOTHER.

And right now I have one of those jobs already and I'm not sure I want the first one at all...well, maybe some day.

Ok, let's reboot that problem and try and solve it again...I'm not sure what I am qualified for but I will figure it out. And I'll find a way to get paid for my (limited) talents.

Let's see...what I am good at besides cooking, and nurturing, etc.?

I can teach a spin class...but that won't pay the bills...but it would be fun.

I am very good with putting clothes together...I can shop...and I am very good at menswear. So maybe I need to try and work at Nordstrom...except that I would spend my paycheck in the tbd department with Anndrea.

I am pretty good at remodeling things...and I have toyed with the idea of trying to flip houses. I have a great contractor so who knows...that could maybe work. I'd save more money if I could do some of the work myself but I don't see myself becoming a plumber anytime soon.

I'm good with kids...and I am still toying with the idea of a teaching degree. The problem is WHAT would I teach? I'm not safe with math or science...and heaven knows I can't speak proper English (or teach it)...and I certainly can't speak another language. I only speak "hick Texan"...no one wants that taught.

I like wine...well, that won't help...but it might help me AFTER work if I get a job.

Hmmmmm....this is gonna take more thought than I think I want to think about today,

At some point I will get the job, get a new house, and buy a new (old, used) car...or drive Ke$ha Barbie's big ass truck when she leaves for college...I wonder if a man who drives a big ass truck likes a woman who drives a big ass truck?

It will all work out...I know it will.

I have faith in God.

I have faith in myself.

I know my future lies ahead of me. And that I have learned from the mistakes I made in my past.

What happens now, in my present, will become my past and affect my future so I am going to live my life as well as I can...and be the best mom I can...and as good a friend as I can. And I'm going to keep getting and staying healthy and enjoying my workouts. And writing this blog...because you crazy people seem to like to read it.

And some day...in my future....when I am sitting in my new (old...like 50 years old) little house, with a new (old, used) little car in the driveway...and TCBITW is a high schooler, and Ke$ha Barbie is off to college...maybe I'll be sitting on the couch getting a foot rub from a very nice man who's big ass truck is in my driveway...and he's rubbing my feet while we watch "Modern Family" 'cause my feet hurt 'cause I've been working all day and cooked dinner too that he and TCBITW really liked...

well, that sounds pretty darn nice, doesn't it?

I mean, who doesn't want a foot rub?

Especially if the masseuse is a handsome man who drives a big ass truck...and put lilies in a vase on my table...and made TCBITW and I laugh at dinner...

Now that...that is a destination I would like to get to ....someday...

But I'm NOT in any hurry to get there...and for now I am going to enjoy the journey that takes me there.

Inspiration Song: "Destination Unknown" by Missing Persons. Dale Bozzio was the original Lady Gaga...and I'm sure Lady Gaga was heavily influenced by Dale's styling...just watch the video for Destination Unknown and Words on Youtube and you will see...Gaga has nothing on Dale...and it makes a great song for spin...

Bye Darlings...my destination may be unknown but the ride there sure will be fun!

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Say My Name

Wow...my divorce blog has sooooo many readers...

Really, people?

Don't you have anything better to do than to read my crazy musings?

Actually it thrills me that you care...and that ANYONE reads what I write.

I write for therapy...the fact that anyone reads it at all is just the whipped cream on the sundae.

Have you noticed I usually use food references when I can? Fat girl just can't stop thinking about food...

So I'm divorced and I have taken my maiden name back.

Now lest you think I was cavalier about it, please know that I thought long and hard about it.

At first I wasn't going to do it. But then I started thinking about continuing to spell that name...and to write out all those letters...and to constantly have people mispronounce and not be able to spell it and I just thought...

why not go back to my maiden name?

it's easy...and no one mispronounces it...or has trouble spelling it...and Anice is hard enough so why not?

No more people stumbling over my name...although I always know when I am about to be called in a waiting room because the person doing the name calling will say: "A-neeeece D....." and it never comes out right...most of the time I can tell they are going to call me because they just stand there and try to figure out how to say Anice as well...

So I asked my kids about it.

I did it seperately so as not to let one lead the other.

I asked Ke$ha Barbie first...and I made sure she was not in Satan mode at the time.

Her answer: "Mom I could care less...I don't give a damn what your name is...why not...go ahead...its easier..."

My son was a bit sweeter...his answer: "it doesn't change that you are my mom...you are my mom no matter what your name is...and I"m stuck with this name for the rest of my life. If you can get rid of it, go ahead!"

I told a friend of mine I was toying with changing back to my maiden name. He said "honey, it is who you are...do it". Good advice...and he is right...it is who I am.

So I changed my name...or rather I am in the process of changing my name.

It is a monumental pain in the patootie but I don't care...it IS my name. I was born with this name so why not?

I don't know if I will marry again...and if I do, I don't know if I will take his name. I might if it is a good and easy to spell and pronounce name (hahahaha) and if he feels strongly about it. But I might not...I might just stay who I am...and who knows if I WILL ever marry again.

I also refuse to date anyone who's last name begins with an "S".

I told my friend David this last spring...he asked "why?"

I told him very simply that I was an old-fashioned girl who liked to have things monogrammed. And being so I did not want to be the girl who had "A-S-S" on her towels...

Because that would be my monogram if I married a guy who's last name begins with an "S".

So if you are Sasquatch (gross and hairy), or have no job, or your last name begins with "S"...sorry dude...no date for you with me...

I mean, I gotta have standards...and I want my towels and luggage to have a nice monogram.

My first name is hard enough to deal with...I told you about my friend Paige thinking my name was "Anus"...I get that a lot.

Once, in college, I had a wild professor for economics. It was a HUGE class of over 250 people. The professor thought it was fun to spend the first class trying to guess what face in the crowd matched a name.

I was in class with my friend who shall just be known as HRS III...those were his initials. His name sounded pretty classy. He was a very very very pretty guy. We were great buddies...none of my sorority sisters believed we were just friends (how could I be friends with such a hottie and we spent a lot of time together but I had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend...they just weren't in College Station).

So anyway, me an HRS III are in class. His name comes before mine...usually right before because our names were pretty similar.

Prof says "HRS III...I bet you are from Dallas...and I bet you are wearing a starched button down with a monogram on the sleeve...and khakis...and topsiders or boots...and I bet you are the good looking guy in the pink shirt up there".

He was.

I fell on the floor laughing.

Literally slipped outta my desk and fell on the floor laughing.

I was crying I was laughing so hard.

I was rolling on the floor.

He looks at me and says "get up...I see your panties...stop laughing...you will get yours".

Sure enough...

I got mine.

Prof calls my name...

He says "Helen....Helen Anus Shelton"

Um...yeah...that is sorta me...

I didn't give him time to figure out what face in the crowd I was.

I stood up (and straightened out the miniskirt I had rumpled up while rolling on the floor and showing my underpants) and yelled at him....

"First off, my name is not HELEN. Nor is is ANUS. You got the Shelton part right. I go by Anice....A-neeece. Got it?"

I sat back down.

Silence in the classroom.

Then HRS III busts out laughing...

So did the prof...he didn't stop for a full minute...and then he said something about "Anus would have been funnier"...

We got along just fine.

Lucky for me when I graduated the guy calling the names came to me and asked how to pronounce it and he did it right.

But yes, I do occasionally get called "Anus".

I take it in stride...because I know I am a sweet thing (most of the time)...an angel (as one friend calls me)...and I am most certainly NOT an asshole...

So when you see me...call me by my name...I LOVE my name...

While driving back from the courthouse with the most amazing lawyer in the world (Randall Wilhite...call him if you need a family lawyer) we were playing with the "Siri" feature on his phone. He told Siri to text me "tell her that her name is now Shelton".

I got the text...Siri did it just right.

I'm saving that text forever...because it is my name...and that wonderful man made it happen for me...and how many people can say that they truly love their lawyer? I do...I really do...and I love his wife. I have a friend who says he hates lawyers...I told him he needs to meet Randy and he will change his mind.

Randy Wilhite rocks...say his name if you need a lawyer...

Inspiration Song: "Say My Name" by Destiny's Child...cause I like people to say my name...my new/old name that is...

Bye Darlings...say my name when you see me...it sounds really really really good to me...

Tuesday, March 6, 2012



It became final yesterday.

I'm divorced.

You know, I thought that might feel weird to say but it doesn't.

I guess because I wanted it. A lot.

My EX-husband is a nice man. He is a great father. He was not a BAD husband, he just wasn't the man for me. We made each other miserable. And I realized that we were both too young and had too much life ahead of us to stay miserably with each other.

My kids are fine...in fact, they are better than fine. The knew it (that we needed to divorce) before we did.

I'm sorry that they now have 2 homes and that Christmas is split between 2 parents, but they will survive.

I did.

I don't look at my marriage as a failure on my part. I look at it as successful for 24 years (well, really more like 10 with 14 more spent trying).

Square peg.

Round hole.

That is what we are/were.

But we made and raised two awesome children. And he helped me to grow up.

And grow out.

I was fat because I was miserable.

Friends who know me well now see how much happier I am and how much I am enjoying my life. And I do...I love my life.

I am happy with how my life is now. I am happier going to bed alone than with him beside me. I am happier cooking for 3 than 4 because I am just cooking for me and my kids. I am happier waking up in the morning with the cat as my companion.

Do I want someone n the other side of the bed?


But this time that side of the bed will be occupied by someone who is a better fit. Someone who is the person who brings me joy, brings me lilies, watches Modern Family with me, knows I need to be kissed and held and told "I love you" often.

Someone who drives a big ass truck.

I can wait for that person...no rush there...I want it to be the "right" person...and I want the person who is looking for me...like Pastor Kenny said...

So yesterday I stood before the judge and got my life...and my maiden name...back.

As for my maiden name, well if you know my former married name you know that it contains an excessive amount of vowels and is impossible to read and pronounce. When you add it to my already hard-to-pronouonce first name, well you get some really interesting pronunciations...

I think my favorite was:

Anus Buttshaver

No lie...my friend Paige...and yes, that is her name....thought that my name was Anus Buttshaver.

I only forgave her because she had 5 kids in 6 years. No lie...

So I got my maiden name back.

It took me less than 10 minutes for the judge to say I was divorced and back to my maiden name.

It really took 1 year and 7 weeks...and 7 hours of mediation to get myself unraveled.

It also took money.

A lot of money.

I may have spent less on my wedding in 1986.

No lie.

but that's ok. My lawyer and his staff are the most amazing lawyer and staff ever. If you need the GREATEST family lawyer in Houston use Randall (Randy) Wilhite.

He's the bomb.

His paralegals Bobby and Grady are the bomb too.

Yes, that is their real names because I want you to call them if you need them. I have the number on speed dial.

Randy has promised me "one free badass prenup" that comes with the divorce.

Part of me wants to take him up on the offer (because it means I will marry again) and part of me hopes I don't need to (because I hope to marry forever and not have to worry about things).

I spent a year planning my wedding...and a year working on my divorce.

I met my lawyer through a friend. Actually I knew Randy's wife for several years. We were at a party last April for a friend and another friend reminded me that Randy was a divorce lawyer. I walked over...introduced myself and said:

"your hired"

That was the start of a beautiful friendship.

The man was amazing. And his staff was amazing.

So yesterday, when we stood before the judge it was not a bad moment in my life.

Just before going up before the judge Randy told me that he had represented the judge's wife in her divorce...from the judge...but that the judge did not hold it against him and they were friends. Sure enough, he was right.

As I stood before the judge I remembered the very very young 21 year old bride that stood before an Episcopalian priest and promised "until death do us part" before God, my family, and friends.

I meant it...

I did.

With all of my 21 year old heart.

But my 47 year old heart wants to be with someone else...or alone...but not with him.

So I stood before the judge, answered my lawyer's questions, and remembered that very young bride who stood in an ivory silk gown (sooooo poofy and big...so 80's). For my divorce hearing I wore a green fitted dress and my mama's silk jacket...and big stilettos.

Then my ex's lawyer had to ask a very silly question:

"Are you pregnant or is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

Now Randy had prepared me for everything but he forgot about that little bombshell. Seems that every woman gets asked that question.

So I looked her in the eye and said:

"Absolutely 100% not! And if I was I would be in an insane asylum and not here!'

The judge laughed. And she was embarrassed she had to ask but it was required. We got a good giggle about it.

Then the judge asked me when my marriage ended.

I asked him: "to define ended".

He laughed...he said "give me an idea of when you ended your marriage".

I looked him in the eye and said:

"Well really it was 15 years ago but if you need to know when I told him I was done that was last February and he moved out in April but we were not living as man and wife".

The judge cracked up.

My lawyer loved it.

The judge said that my divorce was granted and that I got my maiden name back.

I all but danced out of the courtroom.

Randy said I was awesome...so is he.

So that's it...I have the rest of my life ahead of me.

Behind me I have a marriage that lasted too long but I got 2 great kids from it so I don't regret it. I have a nice ex-husband. I hope he finds someone who appreciates all of his gifts.

So tomorrow, when Hot Guy at Gym comes in to chat me up I can tell him it's done...I think he's been waiting...and he gave me a hug and kiss for luck on Friday so I think he's gonna keep chatting me up...which is good since he's very pretty...

and he drives a big ass truck...

Inspiration Song: "D-I-V-O-R-C-E" by Tammy Wynette. I don't much care for country music, much less the old stuff, much less Tammy's stuff...but it fit...so here ya go...

Bye Darlings...I"m divorced...and I'm good with it...so please be good with it for me too...

Sunday, March 4, 2012

I'm A Believer

So another Sunday and another day of church at the Bridge Fellowship.

Pastors Kenny and Scott are in Israel (how cool is that...I so want to go there one day...my friend Sistah went and she loved it) so we had a guest speaker.

He talked to us today about what we worship...and are we willing to die for it.

He used examples of things people worship:

our children (he did not necessarily call that a bad thing)
The Bachelor (reality tv shows)

and this cracked me up but is true:
Home Depot

For the NASCAR example he showed a photo of a guy with the number "3" shaved into his back in his back hair...


ok, first off if you HAVE enough back hair to shave a number into it maybe you should think about doing more than shaving a number into it.

On my "things I won't really stand for in a man": back hair...or at least wooly gross back hair...

Sasquatch need not apply....

I groom...and I want a groomed man....

but I digress...

Ok, many of us have a tendency to worship beauty. I am guilty of that myself. I probably spend too much time and money on lotions and potions to try and make me look good.

I spend a lot of time at the gym trying to look good.

I spend a lot of time on my hair trying to make it look good.

I spend a lot of time and money at Nordstom picking out cute clothes so I look good (call my girl Anndrea in the tbd department...she will make you look quite fine!)...

And I like the way pretty things look...that is why I enjoy it when I get to admire Hot Guy at Gym (HGAG) when he comes in to chat me up while I am in the spin studio spinning by myself...I get to look at his big beautiful blue eyes and sexy smile and my heart rate goes up a few beats and I just try to keep myself from falling off the bike cause he's so darn pretty...

but I digress...

So yeah, I guess I worship beauty...but not enough to DIE for it. So no risky surgeries or crazy medical treatments to look good for me.

(That being said I'm still considering the tummy tuck and I happen to think a little poison in my forehead to prevent bad wrinkles is not toooooo unsafe)

But I will not die for beauty.

I do not worship money.

I do not.

I was born wealthy.

I won't deny that. I lived a very lavish lifestyle and was lucky to do so.

But my father and mother taught me a very important lesson about that money:


We had money.

Then Daddy lost it.

That's what happens...

Did that money make us happy?


Oh sure we got to do some crazy fun things because of it (I will not discuss those things 'cause that's like bragging and I was taught not to do that...and who the hell really cares what I did when I was young and we had money? I know I don't...)

And am I willing to die for money?

Hell to the no.

Ok, you already know my position on worshipping sports...I had to plan my first wedding around Aggie football. I can promise you that if I ever get married again, whatever the hell sporting event is scheduled on a day I would like to say "I do" will not matter...

No dying for sports.

And as for NASCAR...um, I think I might be able to name one driver..and that is because they used him in "Cars"...the Disney movie...

Not dying for NASCAR.

Home Depot...uh, no way...

But I do get why men worship it.

It is their version of Nordstrom or Neiman Marcus.

I get it...I do...

When I go to Home Depot or Lowe's I walk in, get exactly what I came for, and leave.

Men have to go aisle by aisle checking it all out.

I'm the same way in the shoe department at Nordstrom...

Now as for dying for my children...well, I would do that.

I would

God did...I mean he sacrificed His Son for us but if you really look at the Hoy Trinity, as God is our Father and He is the Son and the Holy Spirit (He is all 3), He died for us...His children.

I always find the stuff about the Holy Trinity to be complicated so I'm just gonna stop there and I think you know what I mean...and I'm not a pastor or Biblical Scholar so I might just mess things up.

But the point is that God sacrificed for us and I would sacrifice for my children.

He (the speaker) went on further to explain, with the help of a mirror (that he purchased at his favorite place to worship other than church----Home Depot) that we should be reflecting back the light and goodness of God with our worship. And if we have a nice good mirror, that reflection is good.

But then he took a hammer and cracked the mirror and said that often, as humans, we do things to mess up that reflected image and glory (like cracking the mirror) and you can't reflect back a good reflection with a big crack in your mirror.

But then he pointed out God's grace...and that God will make that mirror whole and put back together again. And the mirror will be good again. He (the speaker) said he wasn't going to try and do that 'cause he would get glass in his fingers...but God doesn't get glass in his fingers...and if He did, He wouldn't care...

So when I look at myself and I see what I am reflecting back to others who see me (or read this blog), I hope I am reflecting back GOOD things.

Ok, so NOLA was not necessarily a GOOD thing, but we all stumble...

So maybe I need to spend a little less time in front of the mirror trying to make myself look good and pretty and more time reflecting back the good things that God has given me...

After all, if HGAG can ask me for my phone number (fresh from Body pump with smudged makeup and smelling like a goat) and chat me up while I am stinking and dripping sweat while riding a spin bike I don't think I have anywhere but "up" with him so I guess I am not an ogre to look at...

that little lesson and theory might save me some money on lotions and potions...

not that I worship money...but maybe it is better spent helping others...and my bathroom already looks like a Sephora counter anyway.

And then tonight that new show "GCB" came on and I laughed and "watched" it with Trainer Girl via text...fun little show.

It also got me thinking...about how people can change. Because the premise of the show is that a former high school "mean girl" comes back home to Dallas with her tail between her legs because her husband died while with another woman as he was escaping with stolen money. She has changed...and the girls she was mean to are now the mean girls...hiding under the guise of being good Christian woman.

I guarantee you that there were plenty of women watching that show that saw themselves in it.

It was funny and fun and Annie Potts had all the best lines...but the part that got me thinking was more about how some people pretend to be very devout and Christian but are as troubled and as messed up as everyone else.

So I sincerely hope that I do not come across that way at all...because I am very sincere when I say here on this blog that The Bridge Fellowship is changing my life. I am not asking anyone to go there with me...it is MY journey. I do believe I was led there to learn some things about myself and I am.

GCB stands for "Good Christian Bitches"...

I want to be a Good Christian BEAUTY not a bitch...and I want that beauty to come from within...and from God...

and not from Sephora...or even my beloved Nordstrom...

Inspiration Song: "I'm a Believer" by the Monkees....cause I loved Davy Jones and the Monkees. "Peter" was the name of my imaginary friend when I was little because he was my favorite...I made my parents crazy for weeks insisting that "Peter" get served dinner and have a spot at the table and room in the car...they didn't discover "Peter" was a Monkee for quite some time...my mother never let me live that down...I think it is rather awesome that I made them order him dinner once...

Bye Darlings...what do you worship? Are you willing to die for it? Ask yourself that next time you find yourself worshiping something other than God...I know I will be next time I pull up to the Nordstrom valet and he gives me a hug and parks my car up front because I'm his favorite shopper...