Weekend Happenings

Good Friday morning!

The Gallery Pic is of our street at 4:16 p.m. yesterday afternoon. It is exactly the same as 24 hours earlier. It was supposed to be a photo of a winter wonderland. It was supposed to be a photo of snowmen lining the street. It was supposed to be a photo of happy children riding down the icy, snowy hills on upside-down garbage can lids. (For my northern friends... that's the reality. Upside-down garbage can lids instead of sleds. Sad, isn't it?) But instead, it is a picture of a snowless wasteland.

I may sound sad. I may even sound bitter. In reality, I am both. However, I am not surprised.

Because I was scrapbooking an event which happened in August of 2008 today, I have decided to share a story with you. It is not a pertinent story. It is not a story which will teach a life lesson. In fact, I may have already shared the story with you in an earlier post. If that is the case, I apologize in advance.

In August of 2008, Mike was nominated for CFO of the Year for a non-profit organization. He was nominated along with three other CFOs for this particular honor. There were articles written about him and published in business publications. There were congratulation notes written to him by influential men and women. It was a pretty big deal.

The day of the award ceremony was beautiful. Bright, sunny and, of course, extremely hot. Mike went to work, and I was to meet him downtown at the ceremony. I decided to wear my weird green-colored dress. I'm the only one who can wear this particular color dress. If you saw it on the rack, you would walk away trying to hold back your gag reflex, but on me it works. (I'm not just saying that either. I've had people come up to me and tell me how surprised they were someone could actually wear that particular color.)

I gave myself plenty of time to get ready. As I was getting out of the shower, I heard a large bang and the power suddenly went out (Code for A TRANSFORMER WENT OUT). Okay. What to do? What to do? Soaking wet and no way to fix my hair and make-up in August.

I called my friend, Cam, who lives several neighborhoods away. She still had power and graciously agreed to let me dry my hair and put on my make-up at her house. Breathe. Breathe. I still had plenty of time. No need to panic.

I drove to her house, yelled at her son "Don't look at me!" as I ran through the front door and locked myself in the bathroom to begin the beautifying process.

I left looking presentable in the hair and make-up department. Now I just had to get dressed.

I arrived home. It was starting to get a little sticky inside the house, but that was okay. I would make up for it with massive AC in the big gold van on the way downtown.

I had worn my weird green dress the Sunday before, and although it wasn't the least bit dirty, I decided to freshen it up a little with a squirt of Febreeze and a tumble in the dryer. I'm not really sure what I was thinking, but I used half a bottle of Febreeze on the dress before I tossed it into the dryer... which wasn't working... BECAUSE THE POWER WAS OUT!

Okay. Okay. The dress wasn't wrinkled, but it was now soaking wet and smelled STRONGLY of Febreeze... which isn't an offensive smell, but definitely not what you're going for when attending a gala event.

By this time, I was sweating like a linebacker (Code for A GARGANTUAN AMOUNT OF WATER). My other dress choice was a pretty blue dress with a sheer overlay... but it needed to be steamed just a bit, AND THE POWER WAS OUT!

I decided to go with the green. I would turn the AC on high, but keep the passenger side windows open to circulate the air and possibly dry my very damp dress. I had now run out of time, and what was supposed to be a leisurely and unhurried "getting dressed" event turned into an "if I don't hit every green light between here and downtown, I'm going to be late" event. More breathing ensued.

The plan to dry the dress on the way to the ceremony didn't work. If you've ever been in Alabama in August, you know what the word humidity means. If you have never been in Alabama in August, I suggest you wait until October or November. It's truly beautiful and comfortable those two months.

I arrived before Mikie. Upon entering the lobby of the building where the event was going to take place, I immediately scoped out the bathroom. I went into the nearest stall and did a smelling test. I reeked of Febreeze. It wasn't my imagination. I wasn't being over-dramatic. I smelled like the Febreeze poster child.

Back in the lobby, Mikie and company had still not arrived. Again, being an Alabamian, I have learned a few tricks about surviving August in my lifetime. I needed a working air conditioning vent. I found one, but it involved moving a chair. I moved the chair. It also involved not standing directly over said vent because of what the air would do to the dress. (Think Marilyn Monroe standing over the street vent in the white dress.) I moved the chair again, strategically placing it half on and half off the vent and then I perched on the arm of said chair. It wasn't really an "arm perching" type of chair, but I was way beyond caring at this point.

It was at this time I received a call from home. Josh just called to tell me the power had come back on about five minutes after I left the house. Bless him.

Then the fun began. Mike and his work associates arrived, as did 200 or more other people. It became very crowded. I made a point of saying, "Do you smell something? Not unpleasant. Just different. Febreeze, perhaps?" every three to four minutes. A few times I put my finger up to my nose and pointed with my other hand at a woman in front of me. Anything to get the attention off of me and my very weird green dress... and the smell.

As it turned out, no one mentioned my odor. Mike was too nervous, and I wasn't going to admit to it willingly. After we sat down to eat, I could feel myself starting to get dryer and dryer. Things were looking up. Now if Mikie could just win this award, things would be really, really good.

His category was announced. He was up against stiff competition. He leaned over and whispered, "The Girl Scout CFO is going to win. Everyone loves the Girl Scouts."

"It's the Thin Mints," I whispered back. "Someone who sells cookies for a living really shouldn't be allowed to compete."

And Mikie was right. The Girl Scout CFO won. It was disappointing, to say the least. But as so many of our celebrity friends say year after year, it really was an honor just to be nominated.

For a week of Randomness, I guess this is the most random of all. Next week, we'll have some structure. I promise!

Weekend Happenings

This weekend is totally and completely up in the air. Have I ever said that on the blog before? I don't think so.

Friday, weather permitting, Austin will come home. Also, weather permitting, Roxie will have a basketball game Friday evening.

Saturday we have no plans. Sunday we have no plans (other than church). It's going to be lovely. It's also going to be necessary because the next few weekends in January are going to be very, very, very busy.

Who knows. I may scrapbook some more and find another story to tell!

Have a lovely weekend. This past week has been a little odd, to say the least. Next week, I'll continue sharing winter ideas and hearty recipes. There will be new pictures and old stories. It will be a busy week on A Simple Life.

Take care, and I'll talk to you Monday.

Sincerely,

The Enchanting Belinda