WARNING: Bad sentence structure ahead

Just so ya know, I'm long winded tonight....

First, and most importantly, thank you to so many of you for your kind words this past Friday. I made it through the work day with mascara intact! And I even spent the evening doing something a little different - something fun with a girlfriend who proposed a new way of honoring Kaitlyn: with a toast instead of a tear. 

Her name is Tina & she took me to a really yummy Indian place for dinner. Because she's, like, sophisticated n' stuff. 


I'd never been to an Indian restaurant before (kind of on purpose because the smell of curry makes me want to hurl) and the only other time I've even eaten Indian food is when Tina ordered some take-out - but this place was wonderful. :) 


I had the ginger-mango chicken in "medium" and HELLOOO spicy mama! I should have known when the waitress asked "mild, medium, hot or Indian hot" that they meant business in the caliente department. Luckily I lurves me some spicy. 


I also indulged with lots and lots of naan (bread?) and some kind of cilantro based sauce and some other sauce that may or may not be called Pinot Grigio. 


Tina ordered a drink that looked alot like ice cold pepto bismal in a tall frosty glass but really it was non-alcoholic fruit-milk (?) since she was the DD. Have I told you how many awesomes it is to be carted around on a girl-date in a silver convertible Mustang? LOVE IT. 

Tina is also my artsy friend (we saw Wicked together) so dinner was not all she had lined up for me that evening. After we were sufficiently full and I was warm & fuzzy from my wine spicy chicken we headed to the Starving Artist Studio and painted us some pottery.


And ate some more. 


Because no one is EVER too full for a chocolate fondue bar. 


This is my mug - oh, and also my travel coffee cup that I painted. We pick our pieces up this week, I'm so esssited to see how it turned out. :)

We went here, the Starving Artists Studio:

If you can't come to this one, find one near you. Go ahead and Google "paint your own pottery" ~ I'll wait. 


~~~

Saturday sort of became a make up day for Friday - where I let myself go and spent some time with a box of tissue and travelling down memory lane. Mother Nature and I seemed to be on the same wavelength ~ the storm outside mirrored my feelings inside. 

With Sunday came sunshine ~ also inside & out. As a matter of fact, it was all that sunshine in my face that made me see the horror of my eyebrows and ew, nails. Clearly time for a little appearance-maintenance. I love love love a pedicure ~ hot wax or sitting still for a manicure not so much. But the next 2 weekends are gonna be busy, the time was now. (Or then.)

Can I just say that if you are a creature of habit like me that it's okay to stay within your comfort zone?  Let's go with "it's Tina's fault" for what happened when I chose to hit up a different salon. 


All this time I have been perfectly content going to my little down-trodden nail shop with its 4 pedicure chairs and 6 manicure stations but only 2 actual people who work there. But my inner voice sounded suspiciously Tina-like when it was all "why go to that depressing little hole in the wall, dahling, when you can upgrade to the fancy place with the chandelier and the golden buddha for the same price?"....

You thought I was kidding about the chandelier & gold buddha??

BAD IDEA.

They were mean to me you guys. 


Meaner than the Rodeo Drive shops were to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. 


So mean that they did this to me:

Because apparently? I had a beard. Only I didn't. A fact I could have argued with the little old asian lady over had I only understood what she was saying under her sars mask BEFORE she slapped hot wax on my cheek. 

What I THOUGHT she asked me while I was laying back with my eyes closed all vulnerable was if I like my eyebrows thin. I replied "yes, shape them up please". 


Then, slap - aaaah! I sat up, opened my eyes, and gave her the "please don't kill me" look - to which she replied "it ok, I make you sexxy for summatye, good for skin, you relax."


I relax. Sure. Who doesn't relax with their double chin being ripped off one strip at a time? 

Due to "Miss Swann's" advantage over my precarious situation, I decide to not piss her off while she stops me from "alookin' like a man".

The immediate results: see above, lasted 2 hours.

The final results: unnoticeable difference - she did not, by any definition, make me sexxy.

Husbands comments: What the...?? Did they jump you in at the salon? Are you in a gang now? 

Yeah. I'm gangsta and I roll with balls of yarn. 

April Showers

Before April showers have a chance to bring those May flowers, it brings a flood of memories from the saddest day of our lives.

Katie's Day.

Her story is here, please forgive my heart, I don't have the wherewith-all to retell it at the moment. I hope you  will go read it...

I hesitate to use the words "easy" and "better" because neither are adjectives for the loss of a baby - but in regards to the years, some are better than others. This Friday marks number 12. A dozen years since my only daughter was born and died.

During the day I am taking extra measures to doll up the exterior to hide the grief on the interior. Seems superficial I know, but you learn what works and what works for me is smiling. It keeps the lump in my throat down. The tears flow at night when the kids have all gone to sleep and I'm safe in my husbands arms.

Almost always I take the day off. Unfortunately, this year, I will be working because the income is really important. Bright side: it's a Friday.

I am very good at self-control but I'm human and if ever a person deserves a day to be completely self-absorbed mine would be Katie's Day. My emotions on April 15th of any year run the gammit from melancholy to you-don't-wanna-eff-with me. My heartache becomes a scale by which I measure everything selfishly.

I could've asked for the day off in advance except that would've required an explanation. I'm not good at those on "the day of". For me,on any other day of any other month, I can talk about it. April 15th rolls around and I don't want to share and I don't want a hug and I'm not looking for pity, just space. Space (and grace) to be a big fat hot mess so that the rest of the year I can be normal. Whatever the hell normal is. 

I'm lucky to have some beautiful friends back home that know this about me.

Friends that knew us then.

Friends that where there at the funeral.

Friends that still go to Katie's grave and leave flowers because I can't from 3000 miles away.

Friends that don't just go on her birthday & friends that know that texting me pictures of her little headstone is what makes me smile, not cry.

Friends that provide the strongest support system anyone could ask for.

Truly-amazing-awesome-no-holds-barred-got-your-back-loyalty type of friendships are rare, but they are forever.

These are a couple I have received in the past year....

Instead I will ask for Max's birthday off to celebrate his awesomeness. He was born 1 year & 2 weeks to the day after his big sister. He's my lifesaver, my rainbow after the storm.

Yeah, I'd have to say I'm blessed in the 'son' department.

(Me: Ok, pose like Brett Michaels! Them: Um, who is Brett Michaels?) 

(Me: Does it hurt? Him: You know how they say there is no such thing as a dumb question? Well...)

~~~

April Showers ~ Sugarland