Coming to you live from my desk, where I'm sitting on a blow up little kid pool floaty thing because my tailbone has decided it needs to play a more prominent, significant role in my life.

I have no idea why it is yelling at me ("OUCH!") but I'm on Ibuprofen and ice and literally, on a swimming pool toy. In my office chair.

I feel completely self conscious (so what else does a blogger do when she feels self-conscious but publish a post about feeling self-conscious?).

One reason I feel self-conscious is that the ring makes me sit higher in my chair.This does not make me feel royal. It makes me feel as though I'm sitting in a baby high chair. In my office.

Secondly, it squeaks every single time I move, uncannily mimicking a gaseous emission sound. In my office,

Thirdly, I have to keep blowing it up. In my office.

Fourthly, my doc asked me in a very serious tone, "Are you sure no one kicked you?" Now, I know why she asked this; she was being a good, caring health provider, looking out for my well-being. Ordinarily, violence is not a funny thought at all, but in the moment, in my situation, it was terribly funny to me and it was all I could do to hold back laughing.

So here I am, precariously perched on a butt-sized Lifesaver, shredding hundreds of papers. This is NOT what I pictured for myself when I was in Brit Lit 400 in college.

Maybe I'll take my ring home and sit in the tub and pretend I'm in the pic above. Vacation--Where are you?!

The Voice

Anyone out there watching "The Voice?"

If so, your thoughts, please?

I've been viewing faithfully, but not voting. I was never a big voter for American Idol, either.

I enjoy The Voice, but it lacks something AI has, that is, the spontaneity and feeling that most contestants are not already professionals. You hope that some humble person will finally get his/her break.

The Voice, on the other hand, is showcasing really high caliber talent. Most contestants are already singing for a living, or at least as a lucrative side job. When you're watching, you never have to hide behind a toss pillow because you're afraid the contestant is going to fail horribly and you will not be able to go on with your own life because of sympathizing so much.

And AI lacks one thing that The Voice has: Adam Levine.

Did I mention Jorge bought us tickets to see Maroon 5 at the state fair on August 18th?

My musical taste is very eclectic. I still enjoy Gary Chapman, and I adore Maroon 5.

I'm diggin The Voice.

What a Way to Welcome Someone Back!

I am completely overwhelmed by your loving, generous comments to my post yesterday! I can't even wrap my mind around the warmth from you all.

I would say that I'm speechless in response, but you who know me also know that would be a lie, so I'll just go ahead and jump into some words like a kid swinging over a pond on a summer day and letting go. Not that I ever did that. That would be way too scary for me (and my mom) to have ever considered doing, but I always liked watching people do it on TV.

Anyway, as I sat here basking in your comments, I'm sure Jorge could see, from across the room, the silvery sparkle-twinkle of your love for me in my starry, starry eyes. But just as I typed the first letters of this very paragraph, my little dog made an editorial comment of the stinky kind in my laundry room. Now that will bring a person back to Earth right quick. But that's OK. I'm resigned to and content with my life, where I fight the battle of the [pet] bowels with paper towel and disinfectant on a daily basis.

But for one brief moment ... I WAS Sally Field.

This was also my first day back to work after having a week off before the wedding. Lots of people welcomed me back and asked how the wedding went, and while I was very happy to talk about it, every time somebody asked, I was keenly aware that he/she had not been invited, and I felt a little sheepish. But here's the thing--it wasn't my idea to limit the guests. It was the bride's and groom's idea. They wanted a small wedding, just a few friends, family and God, and that's what we did. Still, I felt guilty.

I consoled myself by telling myself that the people who inquired were probably happy to merely hear about the event and not be obliged to give a gift or sit through the ceremony.

By the way, the whole ceremony only lasted 28 minutes. I know this because somebody timed it and told us. ??

I don't get it, either.

So after a full day yesterday of counting and counting and counting white rented table cloths and coming up short, and after scraping candle wax off of the borrowed cake plates, and after throwing away box after box emptied of contents ranging from candles to lemon drops wrapped in tulle (also pictured here), I went back to work today to begin the busiest week of our year.

This is the big community service blitz week, cleverly entitled, "Serve."

I was bone tired, but I had to hit the ground running.

As I walked through the empty chapel today going about my business, though, I was surprised to see much of the florist's decorations still at the front of the room. And in the middle of the platform on the floor was a bud vase with two Gold Strike roses (pictured here) in them from the wedding. Do you think that made my heart break a little? Yes, yes it did. I took the vase to my desk and placed it on the ledge. Still beautiful, like my memories of the day.

The happy couple are on their way to California as I write this, Mendocino, to be exact. I received a text from Katie earlier today: "Attn: Parents. We are about to board our flight." I didn't ask her to do that, but it was sweet.

So that was my wonderful "welcome back" to blogging, to work and to days no longer filled with anxious thoughts about "what I need to do as soon as I get home ...."

I'm switching gears, but I'm not doing it so smoothly yet.

And now, there is another distraction as I write this. I do not have any idea how this happened, but somehow, sitting here, I cut the knuckle on my right thumb, and I've been wrapping it up in tissues the whole time I've writing this. You should see the typos I have edited. It will not stop bleeding, so I must stop now.

Gee, that's sad when the only way to end your own babbling is by unstoppable bleeding.

Ok, Universe (meaning battle of the bowels and bleeding) I get the message. Time to stop!

PS: Wouldn't "Gold Strike Rose" be a great name for a racehorse? Dave Barry hears names of rock bands in weird word combos; I hear racehorse names. That is all.

I'm a New Member of a Club!

What's up?!

It has been so long since I fired up this little blog that I forgot the user name and password to get in.

Then I had to look around to figure out how to post a new post.

How can something I did nearly daily for 5 years get so blurry so fast? My last post was only February.

In my defense, if you could view my life from my vantage point, you'd see that it is like one of those front loading washers with events swirling and swishing by, eventually circling around to the first event again, making you dizzy.

From March until yesterday, I have carried with me at all times 3 notebooks full of notes; one for my dad's medical notes because he was diagnosed with cancer, one for Kristin's graduation open house, and one for Katie's wedding.

Also, tucked away in Kristin's open house notes were notes for Jordan, who graduated from college.

So, yes, one very ill father, two graduates, one bride, pretty much within a month or two.

Swirl, baby, swirl!

I missed blogging about the details here, which I'm kind of sad about because I would have had "diary" entries of this time in my life to capture for later years, but I was just too busy or too exhausted to blog. Facebook status updates, those little 420 word blog posts, seemed to work fine.

But I have missed hashing out life on here, so I'm attempting a comeback, if you will.

What I want to say today, the day after my daughter's wedding, is that I now feel as if I've been inducted into a special club because this experience has been so rich, so frustrating, so emotional, so exhausting, that it's really difficult to describe unless you've survived it. Just like the former United States Presidents' Club, you can't know what it's like until you've held this office.

From now on, when a mom tells me, "My daughter's getting married," I will immediately empathize with her and join her "team." I know what lies ahead of her, and I will be there in person or on line with support--because the hazing for this exclusive club is rough! One moment you're happy, the next you're melancholy, the next you're frustrated, then overwhelmed, then just plain fried.

Nevertheless, yesterday proved joyful, meaningful and happy beyond words. Sometimes, you're so happy that something is over and yet so happy that something is beginning, all you can do is dance!