Friday, April 9, 2010

Know What I Saw Last Night?

Lewis and I had a busy day yesterday schlepping the last of the stuff from our storage unit to our new home. What a windy day that was! My parents were kind enough to take a load too, and come see our house. Oh, joy! To see my parents again, in my new home really filled my cup. After the dust had settled and our guests were on their way, Lewis and I snuck out for some food. Did you know that things close really, really early in this small town? The diner closed at 7, that left a Chinese restaurant, a bar, and Mexican. We chose the Mexican, and they were just about to close (it was 8:30). They sweetly stayed open just for us, and we had a lovely meal. It reminded us so much of the Tri-Cities. We chatted with the owner, and she laughed when she told us that they were the only Mexican family in town. Can you imagine that?
As we were pulling away from the curb, we noticed a small animal in front of the Chinese restaurant, about the size of a cat. We could tell it wasn't by the way it moved. We turned the car into the parking lot, so our lights would shine on it, and what do you know! It was a raccoon. It stood there, looking at us, and then meandered over to a bowl on the lawn that must have been left there for it. This is a different world over here, my friends, a different world.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Mustache Mischief Managed

So yesterday was a hard day. I was feeling really low, and even allowed myself a few tears. Just a few, because, like I said before, I didn't want a red puffy face for my meeting at the school. That would be so embarrassing- to look like a freak in front of the counselor, principal, and about 7 teachers. Who would want to do that?
So instead of crying, I messed around with my makeup in my new bathroom. Attached to the wall in my new master bath, is one of those lighted mirrors that magnifies your face like crazy. It's horribly disgusting and fascinating- every blemish, every stray hair stands out like a neon sign. I spied some tweezers and went to town, blissfully distracted from my sorrows. I glanced at the clock and gasped. How time had flown! I dashed out the door and drove to the school. I ended up being early and I took a last quick peek in the car mirror. What I saw turned my blood to ice: a bright red mustache on my upper lip, and my eyebrows were glowing crimson. Oh, the plucking!!! It's a good think I didn't cry and make myself look like a weirdo, right?
I cast around for an idea. "I know," I thought, "I should rub my face and pinch my cheeks so my whole face looks equally red!" Genius. I did just that. I was sporting a very, very healthy glow when I breezed into the school. I had to wait a few minutes for the teachers to arrive, so I nonchalantly strolled past a mirrored wall to check the damage. Dang! I was every bit as mustachioed! I rubbed, rubbed and rubbed some more, hoping against hope that by the time the teachers made it, my features would look normal again. Then I saw the drinking fountain. Cool water! That HAD to help. I bathed my hands and rubbed my face. As I straightened up, I saw a group of teachers had gathered, waiting for me. One approached me with an outstretched hand. "Hi! Pleased to meet you, sorry, my hand is wet." Doh. Does it get any dorkier? I was stuck. I went into the meeting, feeling like I was on the way to my own execution. During the meeting, every time they looked at me, I was sure they were thinking, "What's wrong with her face? Poor thing, she must have a skin condition." I fancied I could see the sympathy in their eyes. I tried to cover for myself, looking contemplative and rubbing my upper lip, but I knew it was no use.
I drug my feet as I made my way to the car, inwardly cringing at what I would see in the car mirror. I sat down, took a deep breath, and peeked at the swollen horror that was my face. I looked totally normal- except my cheeks had a rather healthy glow. I laughed all the way home.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

I'd Forgotten

I swear, I will never, ever again forget how it feels to be new. The hope that someone, anyone will come visit. The thrill when the phone rings with an invitation. The constant replaying and questioning of every word I said. Did I sound too eager? Snobby? Dorky? Like someone they would want to be friends with?
I wipe away tears from my boys' eyes as they grieve for the lives they have left behind. I allowed few tears too, but only one or two, because I have to go meet with teachers soon, and I don't want a blotchy face. Who wants a blotchy face? No one.
I will never see a new family at church without inviting them to something, no matter how trivial it seems to me. When you're on the other end, it's not trivial, it's everything.