Our blog has moved!

You should be automatically redirected in 1 second. If not, visit
and update your bookmarks.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

What Isn't Written

So as I'm up way too late waiting for an email from a social worker that at this point, likely won't come tonight... I thought I would tell you about a luncheon we attended at church on Sunday. It was for new members. We were considered new members...which is a whole other story since they installed Ray as a deacon on the same day...but I digress. We were also asked to write down something no one knew about us. Apparently, I was one of few who didn't write a gigantic biography. Believe it or not, that is a fact that I would later regret. Just wait until I share what they did say.

Since I'm probably punch drunk from staying up until this unreasonable hour, I thought I would tell you what I didn't write.

I didn't talk about Spring Break '92 when O.J. Simpson nearly knocked me down, I ran into Rodney Dangerfield in a hotel bar, got close enough to Mark Whalberg to count the pimples on his back and laughed hysterically at Bill Bellamy and one of the first ever Def Comedy Jams. Rodney Dangerfield by the way greeted me with a "Hi, how 'ya doing?" I think I replied. "Ummm. uhhh. drrr." I wasn't even drinking.

I didn't talk about my tattoo or the desire that sometimes creeps up into the dark recesses of mind to get another one.

I didn't mention any one of the 1,001 things that happened during my years of sorority life. A few words come to mind... canoe trips and house parties being just two of them.

I didn't mention the fact that I managed to break my little brother's collar bone before he was even old enough to let people know he was hurt.

I didn't mention that I just had to buy a training bra for one daughter and one of her sisters probably won't need one until she's like 42. The verdict is still out on number 3. I also didn't mention that I'm more wrecked over it than I thought I would be.

What was mentioned? Ray taught a woodworking class once and I broke my finger while vacuuming. That's us. Two wild and crazy kids! I can't believe that's what they told instead of how I got to meet Michael Jordon because my uncle insisted that it happen. That was the same day I also talked to Irlene Mandrell. That's probably a post for another day. We still didn't beat the lady who could stand on her head longer than anyone else. I asked for a demonstration. Maybe another day.

No comments:

Post a Comment