Saturday, July 31, 2010

like a racehorse

There I was, in Panera, taking full advantage of the free wifi and wishing their bakery products weren't chock full of delicious calories. Hmm...whatever is a working girl to blog about? Do people want to know that I surpassed the yummy bakery case of brownies and selected only this giant glass of iced tea?

Giant. Iced. Tea.

Great. Suddenly, I had to pee. I packed up my computer and my purse, stopped (of course) for a free refill, and walked into the bathroom.

Huh. Something didn't seem quite right. I visit this Panera often, and I didn't remember the stalls being on the right hand side. And what's with the drab lighting and bare walls? Oh well. My bladder quickly reminded me that there was little time to analyze public bathroom decor. I went into the handicap stall, thinking I could put my computer bag in the sink and hang my purse on the door. But there wasn't a hook on the door for my purse, so I threw it all in the sink, parked it on the bowl and peed with my giant iced tea in hand.

And peed...and peed...and peed. Trust me, this was one magnanimous iced tea.

After washing my hands and gathering up my stuff, I walked out of the bathroom and saw the sign on the door directly across from the room I'd just entered. That sign said "Women".

Which meant, obviously, I'd just used the men's restroom. Not accidentally walked in to, not caught a glance through the swinging door, but full-on peed in the room designated for those with wangs.

It's safe to assume I'll be blogging from Starbucks for the foreseeable future.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

into the wild

Montreat was an adventure. I'm not going to lie. Co-directing was not exactly a rewarding experience. In all honesty, it was hard to find any joy in the experience. My old co-d told me that it was like labor pains - it hurts during the process but once you bring the baby home you don't remember the blood, sweat and tears. (Ew.)

And I will admit, in the midst of the headaches and urges to punch people in the face, I did have some pockets of joy. Therefore, I present, the top ten reasons to return to the Montreat Middle School Conference:

10. Drinks from Sonic.
9. Rodney. Oops, I mean ... RODNEY!!!
8. The Variety Show - Little Miss South Carolina plus the dancers from Thornwell = priceless.
7. Almost dying in the golf cart at the hand of Tom and Kari.
6. Singing Justin Beiber with Evelyn whilst brushing my teeth in the morning.
5. Reggie's sermons.
4. Massages from AV Chris.
3. Inevitably saying something inappropriate in front of teenagers.
2. Bedtime stories with Neeley.
1. The family feeling.

I'm not sure if you all (y'all) know this, but you truly are my cloud of witnesses. And I love you, so much.


Saturday, July 17, 2010

sexual healing

Watching the sexual tension between two people is almost as frustrating as being sexually frustrated. Especially when the tension is palpable.

Just bone and eat a waffle. Good Lord.


Wednesday, July 14, 2010

my life is a miley cyrus song

I live in two worlds.

To my co-workers, I'm very much a goody-goody. I work hard at my job, I get a lot of praise from my boss, and I love my students. I'm not the one vomiting on people's bedroom comforters; I'm not the one gettin' nekked in the hot tub. I don't smoke pot and I don't drink to get drunk. I don't stand in judgement of them (well, ok, the vomit was just plain nasty) but I've just never been able to let loose in those ways.

To the people at Montreat, I feel so opposite. Tonight over ice cream, I was flabbergasted to learn I was the only woman at the table who wore thong underwear. I've been sporting thongs since I was fifteen. My best friend told me to wear them to bed for a month and I'd get used to the feeling of string up your crack. (Please note: I did wear a clean thong each night.) But these women don't wear them at all! Then one of their husbands jumped in and said they were unattractive anyway. Say what?

If I told them men at work what kind of underwear I had on, they'd be drooling. Literally, they'd drool on my desk and then make a pass at me.

Two big, confusing worlds. I guess I just have to take solace in the fact that I am who I am for a reason. For so long, I cared about fitting in. I cared more about having people like me than I did about liking myself. I don't care about fitting in anymore. But that doesn't make co-existing any easier.


Sunday, July 11, 2010


Facebook makes stuff weird.

I'm up here at Montreat, which is amazing! I love it! So many people to see! So many old friends! But honestly, I don't need updates about what's going on in their lives because I see it on facebook. It kind of brings the conversation to an awkward level.

What's that? You got married? I know, I saw the pictures. I can't believe you made your bridesmaid wear those dresses.

You had a baby? Yep, I read all about your pregnancy and delivery. In fact, every time your child craps himself, I get to read about it on facebook.

Hey, there! Long time, no see! How was the PBJ you had for lunch 22 minutes ago?

You know, I kind of miss the old days when we had to play catch up. Now everyone knows too much. Especially those of you who read my blog, then see me in person and remind me about my posts involving nudity. Not entirely awesum.


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

when therapy goes deeply, horribly wrong

Therapist: Well, I think instead of scheduling your next appointment, we should just wait and see how this month goes.

Me: What are you saying?

Therapist: I think you've made significant progress. You've come to some very poignant understandings during our time together. And, frankly, we just spent twenty minutes discussing the weather.

Me: So, you don't want to see me anymore?

Therapist: No, that's not it. I just don't know if I see a reason for our meetings to continue on a weekly basis.

Me: Listen, I've heard this line before. The old "It's not you, it's me" routine. Well, no shit. It is me. I'm the one who made the first appointment. I'm a mess. Don't you see? I still need you.

Therapist: Actually, I don't think you do.

Me: Don't you tell me who I am or what I need!

Therapist: This is not about needing. This is not about personal identity. I am trying to tell you that you came to me with certain goals and I believe you have achieved them.

Me: Fine. (Huff.)

Therapist: You look upset.

Me: I am upset! I really thought we had a good thing going!!!

Therapist: We do! We can still have sessions occasionally.

Me: Yeah, when you're not too busy with a new client. I came here for help reconciling ending relationship and here you are putting an end to us!

Therapist: Maybe we do need to keep seeing each other. Is next Thursday good for you?

Me: Well, if you insist.