Irrational Fears

Could you drive across these bridges?

I couldn't! Just looking at them causes me to hyperventilate. I'll ride in a gondola, suspended by a tiny, steel cable to the top of the tallest mountain in any given country, but put me on a tall bridge and I can barely control the panic I feel. I'll take a glass elevator to the top of a skyscraper without a thought, but steep bridges send me over the edge, or at least I'm afraid they will.... Yes, I have an irrational fear of tall bridges. It's probably post traumatic stress from so many years of riding with my grandmother in the mountains. She took those hairpin curves at speeds I'll barely drive on the highway. Something about looking over the edge and seeing only air makes me nearly pass out.

The fear is getting worse too as San Antonio groans its way into becoming a bustling metropolis. The former construction zones at the 281/410 and I10/410 interchanges have given way to huge overpasses with tall bridges. Every day I speed my way under the newly built concrete ramps on 281 lest they topple over with me underneath, then I thank God that I don't have to drive over them because that would be much worse.

My niece loves to tell the story of the time I took her and her siblings to the coast and we had to drive over the tall bridge connecting North Padre Island and Corpus Christi. In order for me to cope I instructed the 4 children to remain silent, then I turned off the radio and held on to the steering wheel for dear life. The kiddos thought it was funny and kept giggling as I fought back tears and tried to breathe normally. The laughter escalated each time I asked them to be quiet. Finally, at the point of near hysteria I barked at them to "shut up!" Kaitlyn laughs with delight each time she tells that story. Of course, I feel terrible for setting such a poor example, but then I was panicking and afraid that four of my favorite people (plus me) would meet their maker after plunging to their deaths into the Gulf of Mexico.

Just yesterday I felt the same panic as Serina and I were driving home from the mall. I would have taken San Pedro Ave to Woodlawn, all to avoid the bridges, but the highway is faster and I wasn't driving so I found myself covering my face in fear and peeking out to see how much longer it would be before I could breathe again.

That scenario has been repeated many times, with many different people and each time I feel like the biggest dork ever. I'm a logical, intelligent (usually) person. I KNOW that the bridges will carry even my weight, but they are so tall and narrow and people drive WAY too fast. All I can see is a car careening over the edge and crashing to the highway below and it terrifies me.

Since I am a woman of deep faith the question begs to be asked: Why am I afraid when I know my life is in the hands of my creator? I'm guessing it's because a car careening off of a bridge symbolizes how I feel about my life: OUT OF CONTROL. I'm technically driving but I'm not really in control. God is. I can steer and brake and try very hard to stay on my chosen path, but God will take me where he wants me to go, even scary, hurtful places. I know this and it scares me and infuriates me all at the same time. His approach is often wild and unpredictable, which is disconcerting. Not that he hasn't proven himself to me time and time again. His love created me. And when I was fallen and could not get up, he sacrificed his Son so we could reconcile. Obviously he has the best intentions toward me. But despite his goodness, I see through a glass darkly and being out of control isn't comfortable so I try to avoid it.

How do I reconcile God's love and goodness with my fear of really bad things happening? What if my car DOES careen off of a tall bridge and I meet my maker in a smoldering heap? Does that make God less good or does it simply mean that the fall interfered with the original plan? Do I REALLY believe that I could do a better job if I had ultimate control? Those are questions I'm still struggling to answer. Even though answers come slowly the process of questioning has deepened my faith in who God is, and knowing him despite his silence has brought unfathomable peace to my tired soul.

I guess it's time to let faith conquer my fear, which means I'm going to have to start driving over those tall bridges with my eyes wide open. I'm fairly certain I'll survive, although I may end up with a bleeding ulcer before it's all said and done. Just remember, if you happen upon a maroon Saturn driving about 20 mph, please don't tailgate me and whatever you do PLEASE don't honk as that will startle me. Just smile and remember that I'm learning to trust and will eventually speed up to 25 mph!

The Female Brain

* Why are women serene one moment and apocalyptic the next?

* How can women remember conversations, events and emotions in precise detail?

* Why do women take everything so personally? (I'd LOVE an explanation for that one!)

Ah, just a few of the questions that have kept me up at night for the past 38 years, right up there with other biggies such as, "Why are violets blue instead of violet", "Why did Noah include roaches on the Ark", "What is the purpose of a training bra?" and "How would we know if a word was misspelled in the dictionary?" No wonder I can't sleep with so many important things to ponder.....

Of course, I've already figured out that PMS is responsible for my moods at least one week out of the month, but what explains why I'm a neurotic mess for the remaining 3 weeks? Thankfully, researchers have come to my rescue by spending countless hours and moolah attempting to understand the female brain. I'm guessing they're all men desperately seeking answers. God bless 'em.

HERE'S A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF THEIR FINDINGS:

THE CORTEX-certain regions that control high-level computing are thicker (this does NOT mean women are thick-headed!) in the female brain. This is apparently why women see meaning in even the smallest of gestures. Of course, not I, I never read too much into anything, oh no. I'm perfectly balanced and always respond with love to offhanded comments such as, "I'd rather (insert event here) than spend time with you." That never causes me to respond with tears, slammed doors or the word jerk. Nope, not me..... Ha!

THE HIPPOCAMPUS-this is the place where memories are formed, and for the life of me I cannot remember why someone decided to include the prefix "hippo" when naming a part of the human body. Ugh, I already have a hippo complex! But I digress, apparently a larger "hippocampus" explains why women can remember even the most minute details of a conversation from 19 years ago. Or why we can remember random details from events in our childhood. For example, I can remember my best friend's phone number from 2nd grade - 512-625-0391, while mine was 512-629-0931, but ask me to remember a quote from a movie and I draw a blank. I remember relational and emotional things and very rarely forget them, which should scare the men in my life into taking notes or something. (Not that I remember everything, but I especially remember things that are important to people I care about.)

THE TEMPORAL LOBE CORTEX-this is the area that controls language processing and comprehension and women possess a much higher density of neurons. Explains why women are verbally fluent by nature. Yep, a well-written note or heartfelt conversation gets my attention every time because it speaks my language!

SEROTONIN-women have less of it than men do, and since this is a natural "happy" pill it makes sense that a woman can be perfectly content one minute and devastated the next by something as traumatic as a lost earring or a pimple. If I happen to be the next woman you encounter in a state of devastation the best approach is a hug and back rub - or a really strong margarita! Whatever you do, DO NOT offer advice (of course I'm speaking to men because women already know this about each other.) Just keep rubbing and filling up the glass until the Serotonin stabilizes.

So there you have it, the female brain in a nutshell. I'm glad they think they have it all figured out. At least I'll sleep better tonight now that I have an excuse, er, explanation for my neurosis!

Flying High Finale - Night Trains, Gypsies & Little Green Men

After recovering from the shock of Prague's Subway KGB the time came for me to move on to my next destination, Salzburg, Austria. I booked a night train, which allowed me to kill two birds with one stone by sleeping and traveling at the same time. I had lucked out with my last reservation and ended up traveling to Prague with 2 American women...that would NOT be the case on my return trip.

While inquiring about the status of my reservation I was utterly dismayed to learn that I would be sharing my compartment with a man. Apparently the other sleeping compartments were full and mine was the only one with any remaining beds. Now, I could lie and pretend that I didn't almost pee in my pants at that bit of news, but the reality is that I was TERRIFIED at the thought of being locked in a small compartment containing beds and a strange, foreign man.

Thankfully I possess what is known to friends and family as "the look" so by glaring at him with my evil eye I terrified him almost as much as he terrified me and thus ensured that he stayed in the hall smoking and drinking for most of the night. Late in the evening, after casting many nervous glances at me he finally found the courage to cautiously enter our shared compartment, lie down and sleep. While I felt some relief at the rhythmic sounds of his snoring, I soon faced a new dilemma, should I lock myself in with this drunk, snoring man or should I leave the door unlocked thus risking a robbery from infamous gypsy gangs known to board at various stops and steal from sleeping tourists? I waited until we were pulling up to the next stop and my fellow traveler was most definitely sleeping before I reached up and locked the door. I'm glad I did because the 2 times that door was rattled from the outside were unnerving, and whether or not the gypsy gangs were an urban legend or the source of those mysterious rattles, I felt safer with the door locked.

Bright and early the next morning, after sleeping for a scant 4 hours I got up to find that my passport and tickets were missing. PANIC! Did the strange foreign man take them during one of my brief naps in the middle of the night? I hastily unpacked and repacked my bags at least 3 times before locating the missing documents in my backpack. Poor foreign man, it wasn't his fault after all, apparently after one of those late night ticket checks I had tucked them into the wrong spot. Upon finding them I desperately clutched them to my chest as a few tears escaped my very tired eyes and then secured them in my "secret money belt" before heading off to find the train that would take me to my next destination.

Austria. A little jewel tucked into stunning mountains - it was gorgeous, and the people were so friendly and laid-back. Salzburg was my first stop and it was well worth the time and money. The birthplace of Mozart, the setting for "The Sound of Music", breathtaking flower-strewn meadows and hills that really did seem like they were alive....with the sound of music. I hummed the entire musical as I wandered all over and saw Mozart's home, the castle, the square, giant chess games, marionettes, youth choirs, gardens and outdoor classical music concerts. I even observed a wedding at the church made famous in the movie!

After walking all over I was soon thirsty so I stopped to buy a coke in a cute little store. An added bonus was that the coke was COLD - woohoo! The cashier put it in a small paper bag and I walked out to find the catacombs and cemetery just a few blocks away. I reverently strolled around the beautifully maintained tombs before finding an inviting bench to sit and enjoy my nice, cold coke. With the can still in the bag I popped the top and took a huge swig of what I thought was going to be sugary liquid. Instead my eyes teared and widened in shock at the taste of bitter, stout Austrian beer pricking my taste buds. I hastily pulled the can out of the bag and discovered that I had inadvertently grabbed beer, which I would have realized had I paid attention to the little green men dancing on the can. Coke does not have little green men! To top it off I didn't (and still don't) like beer. (Offer me wine or a mixed drink and I'll partake but beer? Not so much.) And remember, I was still in my BSF phase so beer was a big no-no. There I was in a cemetery, trying to remain solemn with a mouth full of beer I didn't like and wanted desperately to spit out without causing a scene. I DID NOT want to be a rude American so I casually walked to a trash can and emptied the contents of my mouth into it before angrily tossing the cold beer in as well. I did receive a few curious stares, probably because I threw away perfectly good beer, which is probably a sin in Europe, but I quickly slinked away to find water, because by then I was really thirsty and I wanted the beer taste out of my mouth ASAP. Of course the shop I purchased the beer from was closed because it was lunch time and as I realized too late there was nothing that would keep a European from closing for a 3-hour lunch! My best option was the Casino's outdoor, rooftop restaurant so I hiked to the top and replaced the beer's aftertaste with coke, lasagna and the most magnificent view of Salzburg.

The remainder of the my first European adventure was spent in Innsbruck, where I learned of the O.J. Simpson drama from Time Magazine and visited the Olympic Village. I moved on to Garmisch, Germany, which is a wonderful little resort town high in the mountains and stayed in a quaint home with a private bathroom and balcony overlooking the Zugspitze. While there I enjoyed the local Pizza Hut (I was missing American food at that point) and an American cinema where I watched City Slickers 2. I took the cable car to the top of the mountain where I was rewarded with fresh snow and amazing views of Austria and Switzerland and thoroughly enjoyed relaxing in such a stunning place. Upon returning to Munich for my last day in Europe I wandered the city, poked in and out of churches and museums and made sure to eat lots of bratwurst, schnitzel and fresh fruit - especially the sweet, ripe cherries.

What an adventure! Despite a few "Chevy Chase" moments and embarrassing, silly mistakes I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. They helped shape me into the woman I am today and I am better because of them. I grew up a lot on that trip and discovered more about myself and my faith than I thought possible. Now I'm off to plan my next adventure, which will hopefully include Slovenia and perhaps Croatia in February 2009!

The Evil Stomach Monster

Last Saturday dawned bright and clear and I woke up happy and feeling less stress than I had for several months. My new job was looking good, I was in a healthy state of mind and I was relaxed. I spent the day puttering and running errands and just doing normal Saturday stuff. And then the evil stomach monster arrived at my door....

After returning from the grocery store and hauling my loot upstairs I felt the sudden need for a nap. Since it was Saturday I allowed myself that little luxury and ended up dozing for 2 hours. When I finally opened my eyes I felt achy and a little nauseated so I decided to eat some tortillas or bread. Now I don't buy white tortillas or white bread, I buy the "healthful" stuff, and while that's generally a better option, let me just state for the record that it's not really a good idea to eat a lot of fiber when your tummy has been invaded by an evil monster. I just hadn't met the evil monster yet so I didn't know I was provoking him.

You know what I did? I ate 2 high fiber, whole grain tortillas, watched a movie, emailed and read some blogs before crawling into bed. By 2:00 am I was wide awake and bathed in sweat, spasms of pain causing me to physically cry out as I made a run to the bathroom. After getting a good view of my porcelain throne I crawled back into bed, still not aware of how seriously angry this particular monster was with me. I was soon to find out though as I awoke to the same scene for the next several hours wondering exactly where I had gone wrong. The thought of driving to the hospital crossed my mind, but since I was in between health coverage due to my new job and a delay in my COBRA paperwork, I was reluctant to spend the night in the E.R. and pay thousands of dollars in medical expenses. I still naively thought that I had a case of food poisoning and I began mentally placing blame on Chick-fil-A or India Palace, the last 2 places I had eaten.

Sunday was really no better. I skipped church and barely made it to my nephew's birthday party before driving to Walgreens to try to find something to help me ease the stomach cramps. After arriving home I showered and crawled into bed at 6:00 pm and tried to sleep. But nope, that was NOT gonna happen. Approximately every 2 hours I felt the need to bow before the great throne of porcelain before crawling back into bed hoping for relief. And to make matters worse, I had an unwelcome, uninvited monthly visitor show up at about 3:15 am. That did NOT help matters because although I like many of my relatives, Aunt Flo is at the bottom of my list, (pun intended) and she always makes me grumpy.....

Monday I was awake bright and early because calling in sick was not an option, I took a shower, dressed and left for work clutching a bag of crackers. I spent a lot of time resting my head on my desk after running to and from the bathroom. I'm sure my staff was wondering what exactly was going on..... At lunch I tried to sit in the break room and chat, but I was so ill that I ended up in my office sleeping with my head on my desk for over an hour. My Billing Manager awakened me and looked very concerned when she noted how pale I was, but I didn't have time to chat instead I grabbed the trash can, which effectively ended her stay in my office... My boss stopped by, took one look at me and told me to get downstairs to the surgical center for an immediate IV. I was so sick that I didn't even argue, even when I arrived downstairs and the nurse told me to undress. Normally when a co-worker tells me to disrobe I do not obey!

I laid there in severe pain, shivering as the IV pumped cold liquid into my veins. My parents arrived and waited with me until I was finally released and told to go straight home. Now my parents do not know the Stone Oak area and I am new to it myself. I also tend to be impatient and cranky when I'm ill, and I hate having to explain things so I fear I was not very nice to my poor dad as he kept questioning my directions for how to get home. Finally I convinced him to trust me and off we drove with my mother in hot pursuit, dad pedaling really fast and avoiding a wreck while I unexpectedly emptied the rest of the contents of my stomach into a plastic bag. Poor dad.

The remainder of Monday was miserable. My boss called me, prescribed medication and gave me strict instructions of what to do. Every 2 hours I would awaken crying and delirious; at one point I was seriously CONVINCED that I had seen the face of Jesus in the toilet bowl. I AM NOT KIDDING, I would have sworn to that under oath at the time. I was obviously really sick, and I was terrified because I'd never experienced a hallucination, let alone a sacrilegious one and I don't want to experience another one ever again!

I hugged the porcelain for the last time Tuesday morning and my sweet mom delivered medication and Pedialyte. I was still impatient and cranky but the medication at least quelled the vomiting and put me to sleep. Wednesday I arrived at work at 10:30 and stayed for just 3 1/2 hours before heading home again. I was weak and exhausted and running a fever and the doctor told me to go, so I did! I spent the day trying to get comfortable but my back was killing me after I had pulled every muscle repeatedly for the last 72 hours. Later that day I drank some water and finished my first bottle of Pedialyte before falling asleep at 7:15 pm.

Thursday I worked all day but took frequent naps. I managed to make it home before passing out and then had a friend deliver bananas - a safe food according to the BRAT diet. I partook of my first solid food, 1/2 a banana chased by 1/2 a bottle of Mango flavored Pedialyte and then fell asleep on my sofa, which helped support my aching back. By Friday morning I was feeling human again. I worked a full day without a nap and was actually somewhat productive. I did drive straight home and take a nap after work but I was able to eat another banana and drink enough water to keep me hydrated. I also stayed up until 10:00 pm watching a movie and returning emails I hadn't checked for a week.

Today was a complete day of rest. Nothing but movies, the Olympics, reading and a lot of sleeping. Tomorrow promises to be the same, there is NO WAY I am risking a relapse. Thankfully India Palace was not to blame, but instead a nasty, evil stomach monster. I really, really hope you never meet him. But if you do, just know that Mango or Fruit flavored Pedialyte trumps the unflavored version every time. And if you're not blessed enough to know a really good GI doctor, I sure can recommend one. I am grateful that he took such good care of me and he has forever earned my respect, loyalty and trust, which is really hard to do.

Sand, Surf and Sunburns

I took a family trip to the beach yesterday with my dad, sister-in-law and 4 of my nieces and nephews. We had a lovely time. We left my place at 8:15 am and drove in tandem to North Padre Island. Now mind you, my dad, who used to brag about driving 80-90 miles per hour now drives a "Flintstones" vehicle. I had to keep calling him to remind him to pedal faster in order to keep up with me. He accused me of driving faster than warp speed but I was only going 70ish.... I DID want to make it to the beach before the sun went down.

Once we finally arrived we drove in a panic to the welcome center so my slightly hysterical niece could use the bathroom. We then proceeded to haul two carloads of "stuff" down to the beach. My dad is the only man I know who keeps a cart in his trunk , which he filled with coolers, chairs, water, towels, toys and a first aid kit. He then tried to wheel it through 6 inches of soft, dry, white sand. It took a little bit of maneuvering but he managed to make it to our spot. (It took much longer and considerably more energy for him to wheel is uphill through the same dry sand, but it was fun to watch!)

Finally we sat down to enjoy the beach. The weather was perfect. The breeze was fantastic and the water was so amazingly inviting. We spent 4 hours frolicking. We collected shells, played in the sand and spent a lot of time in the water seeing how deep we could go. We relaxed to the sound of the crashing waves while the sun warmed us, and eventually turned us into giant lobsters......

I should have known better. Normally when I go to the beach I resemble a woman with extreme religious convictions. I practically wear a dress and a veil in an effort to hide every square inch of my delicate, dayglo skin from the harsh sun. Not just for the sake of modesty, but for the sake of practicality. I detest sunburns. My skin doesn't tan, it blisters and peels and then I am left whiter than I was before the horrific experience. But I wanted to swim and enjoy the ocean with my nieces and nephews, which is nearly impossible to do when fully clothed. So this time I threw caution to the wind. REALLY bad idea.

I should have stuck with my original "non-religious convictions" about beach attire. Despite the 50 SPF sunblock my back, shoulders and cleavage (!) are almost the same shade of deep red as my sofa. And worse, blisters are already forming -- that should make wearing a bra really fun this week. I was going to take a few of my vacation days and spend them at the beach but after surveying my damaged skin the thought of more time in the sun is unappealing. I don't really enjoy walking around as a giant, pink blister so I'll be avoiding the sun, at least until I forget the pain!

Today we're all tired and sore and in some pain but we did create a memory. And we all learned a valuable lesson the hard way. The sun is not a friend to those with dayglo skin. Time to visit the dermatologist.

BREAKING NEWS!

STRESSED BILLING MANAGER ACCEPTS BETTER OFFER

Here's the scoop. Last Friday I received a phone call from a friend. She had spoken to a doctor who was looking for a new Practice Administrator. She told him about me. He and I spoke on Friday night. His partner called me later on in the evening. We all agreed to meet at the Starbuck's on Blanco and 1604 on Saturday at 3:30 pm. I arrived at 3:15 pm. At 3:45 pm I still did not see the doctors. I paged them and discovered that there are 2 Starbuck's at Blanco and 1604. In that instant I discovered that it is possible to be lost even when it looks like you're in the right place....(I'm sure there's a spiritual analogy there but I'm too tired to delve into it!) Anyway, I drove to the correct Starbuck's and met the long suffering doctors.

We talked for 1 1/2 hours and discussed their practice style, software, staff and all of their expectations. Most encouraging to me was how comfortable we were together. Both are easy to talk to and friendly and have chosen to practice at a slower pace in order to offer their patients the best care. Also, the lead doctor is a man of deep faith. He leads ACTS retreats through his church, performs at least 2 medical mission trips a year and prioritizes his life in the following way:

1. GOD


2. Family


3. Work

By Sunday afternoon I had a very nice offer including 4 WEEKS OF VACATION. Yes, you read that right 4 WEEKS OF VACATION!!!! Do you KNOW how happy that made me??? 4 WEEKS OF VACATION!!!! I would actually be able to visit Laurie in Europe and go on mission trips all in the same year!!! Happy, happy, happy!

Well, enough about my 4 WEEKS OF VACATION!!! The doctor asked me to pray about the offer and I told him I would do that and make a decision on Monday. By Monday morning I was a nervous wreck. The offer just seemed too go to be true and having been burned so much lately I could find NO peace. I got a pep talk from Laurie and then called the doctor to accept the position. Do you know what he said? He said, "Praise the Lord! I prayed about this and told God that it was all in his hands. I am the kind of person who wants the best for everyone so even though I want what is best for my practice, I wanted you to make the best decision for you." At that point I start crying. I'm slightly overwhelmed that someone who doesn't even know me would put my best interests above those of his own.

So yesterday I resigned. My boss told me that I would leave a huge hole...that I had built the business office from nothing and no one can replace me...that I was an investment...that she was sad. Then she offered my position and a much higher salary to another employee 5 minutes later. So much for being an irreplaceable investment! I don't blame her, my news was a huge shock and she has a business to run. I have no bitterness and no regrets and I will leave on good terms. I learned a lot and will miss many of my co-workers, but I have to admit I will not miss working in a closet and dodging vagrants and rats on the 2-block hike to my car!

My last day is July 17. Then I will be enjoying some of my favorite girlfriends for a weekend retreat. I plan to head to the beach or Laity Lodge for a few days the following week so I can chill out before beginning my new job on July 28.

Thanks to everyone who has prayed for me, offered advice or just listened to me whine. Hopefully I will get back to my old self once I begin my new job and have 4 WEEKS OF VACATION to look forward to!!!

Meme

Okay - here's the deal. I have no earthly idea what "meme" stands for but I know that I'm supposed to answer the following questions so it must have something to do with information technology..... I couldn't figure out how to copy the meme from Jenny's blog so I retyped it, which is why it looks different. AND, I didn't include the last question because I couldn't figure out how to tag anyone. I'm still technologically challenged!

FOUR JOBS I'VE HAD IN MY LIFE:

1. Video Arcade Cashier
2. Motocross Gate Attendant
3. Teen Crisis Hotline Operator
4. Medical Practice Administrator

FOUR MOVIES I'VE WATCHED MORE THAN ONCE:

1. The Wedding Singer
2. Braveheart
3. Shawshank Redemption
4. Waiting for Guffman

FOUR PLACES I HAVE LIVED:

1. New Braunfels, TX
2. Conroe, TX
3. Live Oak, TX
4. San Antonio, TX

FOUR PLACES I HAVE BEEN (I can only list four??):

1. Central Europe - Czech Republic, Poland
2. Ireland
3. Greece
4. Italy

FOUR PEOPLE WHO EMAIL ME REGULARLY:

1. Mom
2. Scott
3. Steph
4. Rhonda

FOUR OF MY FAVORITE FOODS:

1. Chicken Scaloppine from Macaroni Grill
2. Fresh crepes in France
3. Gyros
4. Anything cheesy - especially my mom's Macaroni and Cheese

FOUR PLACES I'D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:

1. Prague, Czech Republic
2. Slovenia
3. Italy
4. Krakow, Poland

FOUR THINGS I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS YEAR:

1. New job on July 28
2. My nephew's wedding on November 15
3. Family trip to the beach on July 12
4. A much needed vacation before I start my new job!

FOUR TV SHOWS I WATCH (I rarely watch TV, but when I do):

1. American Idol
2. Nightline
3. What Not to Wear
4. The Office

Flying High Part Two - Prague's Subway KGB

Prague. Just the thought of it brings a smile to my face. The mood and mystery of the city suit me. From walking along the Charles Bridge to winding through the streets of Mala Strana; from hiking up to the castle to reverently meandering through the Old Jewish Cemetery or simply enjoying the magical skyline from my favorite spot, Vyshrad, I love it. My joy is only heightened by dear Czech friends I've met along the way, people who have delighted me since the first time I laid eyes on them. And to think I almost didn't go because so many people, who were worried that I was traveling alone with no hotel reservations or tour guide, advised me to stay in Western Europe. I'm so glad I found the courage to follow my heart and let Prague cast its spell on me.

However, the spell was NOT cast immediately. My first view of Prague was not pretty. Everything was gray and even though it was summer the weather was cold and rainy. When I first stepped off that night train from Munich my sleepy eyes were accosted by graffiti and construction zones. There were crowds of people visiting the numerous sex shops. And there I stood a naive little Christian girl from Texas.....I'm sure you can imagine the look on my face and the size of my eyes as I took everything in. I was definitely not in Kansas anymore!

Since I was alone and slightly terrified I tagged along with the girls who had shared my night train. After a lot of walking we eventually managed to find a youth hostel in a seedy residential district. I was not thrilled to learn that the rooms were co-ed but what was I going to do, walk all the way back to the train station and camp out with the prostitutes??? No, that was definitely not an option so I stayed and tried to pretend that I wasn't such a naive little Christian girl! This is when some Pivo would have come in handy but I was still a BSF leader so it was out of the question for me......


But alas the hostel kicked me out of the room until later on in the evening so I was forced to explore the city. And that is when the magic happened. I'm sure it won't come as a surprise to anyone who knows me but I got horribly lost, even with a map. I was constantly asking for directions and almost finding the right place before getting distracted by a tall spire or a Kolache shop and losing my way again. But I slowly fell in love with the charms of the city as I wandered around lost. It felt like I was walking in a fairy tale, although it was laced with reality and came to a screeching halt when I stumbled (literally) on the 9th century cobblestone right in front of........Kmart, complete with Little Caesar's Pizza inside. Call me a snob but the home of the blue light special should never grace a city like Prague! Seriously.


After running in horror from Kmart and spending many more hours wandering I eventually needed to purchase additional subway tickets so I could continue my adventure, but I could find no one to help me decipher that strange language of consonants. And this was a young country whose democratic identity was still emerging from the veil of communism, so trust me when I tell you that it was long before the words "customer service" had ever been uttered within its borders! Finally after watching me stare at the strange ticket machine for too long a stranger had mercy on me and helped me purchase a 24-hour metro ticket, or so I thought....but as the next day unfolded I discovered that there was a HUGE difference between a 24-hour ticket and an ALL DAY ticket.


I was so naive. My only subway experience had been in Munich a few days earlier, when I ended up 17 miles outside of the city because I couldn't read the subway map. Yeah, I was pretty unprepared for the Subway KGB, those stealthy undercover agents who prey on tourists and make a killing in "fines" and scare the you-know-what out of people who can't figure out how to purchase the correct ticket! When someone with a strange accent flashes a badge at you in a foreign country, the normal reaction is PANIC, and I'm proud to say that I reacted VERY normally and panicked on cue. Turns out that I possessed a DAY ticket, which meant it was only good for the date of purchase, which just so happened to be the day before...... I realized all of this within about 2 seconds as I was being yelled at and my passport was being scrutinized. That little mistake cost me over $20 which probably went straight into the agent's pocket, but it kept me from achieving "permanent resident" status in the Czech prison system so I was more than happy to pay it. Perhaps I'm exaggerating, but at the time I was scared to death and certain that I would never see America again. Of course after forking over my food budget for 2 days I proceeded to find a semi-private spot and have an emotional meltdown. Some nice European had pity on me and provided a tissue so I could mop my face. After putting myself back together again I squared my shoulders and marched off to explore the city that had captured my imagination, there was no way I would let fear keep me from experiencing as much of Prague as possible.

So now each time I return to my favorite city I make sure to purchase the correct subway ticket. But as scared as I was I wouldn't trade my first trip for anything, it was worth every second and every tear and that $20 fine! Prague. Just the thought of it brings a smile to my face.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Average

I saw a print ad for Pantene shampoo the other day and I was reminded of their old commercials. Remember the one that featured a glamorous model tossing her thick, glossy, luxurious mane of hair and uttering the phrase, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful"?

I detested that commercial because I was painfully aware that I could never utter those words in good conscience. Maybe they should make a new commercial featuring yours truly. I could toss my less than luxurious, graying hair and utter the phrase, "Don't hate me because I'm average." I guarantee you that women throughout the world would relate because from our hair to our makeup to our clothes many of us spend hours trying to look beautiful, and most of us end up looking, well.....average. Like a friend of mine says, "It takes a lot of work to look this average." Yeah, no kidding. For me it takes at least 30 minutes to put on a face that won't scare the masses!

On a more serious note, that ad got me thinking a lot about physical beauty, especially since seeing it again coincided with my near disastrous makeover. Beauty has often been a double-edged sword for me garnering a lot of unwanted attention, and yet I still wrestle with it because it's very clear to me that I do not fit the "mold" of what a beautiful woman should look like, at least not today! But I'm finally mature enough to grasp that real beauty has very little to do with looking "hot" and much more to do with who I am. How I wish my younger self could have understood that true beauty is mysterious and invites others to stop posing and striving and rest in its presence; it's a soothing and peaceful refuge when life is chaotic and overwhelming. And although it is elusive that's the kind of beauty I want to possess.

So while I believe that it's okay to enhance what remains of my physical beauty, I want it to reflect my inner beauty otherwise it's hollow. Perhaps my nephew has the most balanced perspective. He loves me no matter how I look maybe because he sees how much my heart loves his. But he also appreciates physical beauty and tells me when he thinks I look "cute". One night when he was about 6 we had the following exchange as he was brushing my hair and I was painting my nails.

Zachary: You know Wobin, when I am 40 you're going to be old.

Me: Yes, I know that Zachary, but will you still love me?

Zachary: Yes, with a shrug of his shoulders.

Me: But will you still think I'm beautiful?

Zachary: What? That's silly, you are bootiful.

Me: But will you still think that when I'm old and gray and full of wrinkles?

Zachary: Wobin, that won't matter.

Me (about to get what I deserve): But will you still think that when I'm old and gray and full of wrinkles AND I don't have on any makeup?

Zachary studying my makeup-free face: Hmmm, I'll still love you....but Wobin, the makeup helps!

Indeed.

Makeovers and Movies

Thursday Laurie and I went to Origins and had makeovers. The results were stunning. She looked beautiful. I looked like a hooker. Had I chosen to walk down San Pedro Avenue I would have likely been arrested, or at the very least run out of town by the competition.... Seriously. Why do all makeover artists insist on rimming my eyes, inside and out, with an entire stick of black eyeliner? I am not a raccoon! Add the gold and green shimmering eye shadow, bright coral lipstick and too rosy blush to my deathly pale skin and well, you can imagine the look. I haven't worn that much makeup since I was a teenager. I should have taken a picture but I really didn't want that particular look frozen in time, I have enough embarrassing looks captured on film for posterity. If you've never seen my "Elvira" phase then you don't know what you're missing......

Next, because we had errands to run I was forced to venture out into public with a face full of "lady of the night" makeup. It was 3:00 pm in the afternoon. I'm sure I garnered some strange looks at the frame shop and Target. Once we arrived home I set about wiping off some of the eyeliner and extra shimmer, but I was only mildly successful since I did not have time to start from scratch and redo all of my makeup before "Girls' Night Out". Then when I was almost ready I noticed a fresh crop of gray hair revealed by the harsh bathroom lighting, and as we all know that means a round of painful plucking. The LAST thing I wanted was to look like an old hooker, if I'm going to sport that look I'd at least like to appear young.

Because of my last minute plucking we were a little late arriving at Jeannie's but once there we quickly loaded into her husband's convertible and zoomed off to eat dinner. We ate an assortment of yummy food and desserts and talked about books, movies, men and faith. Then we left and cruised down Stoneoak with the top down, hair blowing in the wind, blasting 80s music all the way. Jeannie and Laurie were singing and car dancing to "Love Shack" because they are fun and carefree, I AM NOT. As you know I am neurotic and awkward and never dance in public, even in the car..... I did allow myself to enjoy the music and tried to sing along but I was very much aware of the fact that I looked like an old hooker so it was difficult for me to relax, especially with "Crazy Love" cranked up on the radio. We were quickly brought back to reality when Jeannie announced that she needed to purchase swim diapers before morning so off we drove to Walgreens. While she went inside Laurie and I sat in the convertible listening to music. I was a little paranoid that we would be carjacked because I forgot I was on the north side. I guess I'm used to living downtown; I would NEVER sit in a convertible with the top down and the keys in the ignition next to Puffin' Paul's Smoke Shop in my neighborhood!

We ended the night with a double feature in Jeannie's home cinema. All snuggled up with blankies in the soft, buttery leather recliners laughing at the antics of Ben Stiller in "Along Came Polly" and having our hearts warmed by Ryan Gosling in "Lars and the Real Girl". We laughed and cried (well, I cried) and then faced reality when the clock struck 2:00 am. By the time we made it home and fell asleep it was 3:00 am. Today I feel and look old from lack of sleep and 2 days later I am STILL recovering, but getting makeovers, hanging with fun girlfriends, reminiscing about our youth and watching funny movies was a great way to spend a few vacation days, black eyeliner and all.