Disney Dreams and Runaways

It's Day 18 and we are to share a vivid childhood memory.  There are quite a few I can think of and for the most part they are good and blissful and filled with childhood wonder.  The following story is in no way a direct reflection of any of that.  Instead you will read a tale of a runway, an interstate, and the police.  You have been warned! And no the reason for running away had nothing to do with the fact that my mother decided to dress me as her twin in the above picture. Bless the dear daughter that I will probably end up doing the same to as some point in time.

This is a story that has been told time and time again.  By me, by my parents, by pretty much anyone who has heard it to anyone who hasn't.  The story has not changed once in all it's many years.  It needs no embellishment.  You see as a young child I had a flair for the dramatic.  I tended to run away on occasion when I felt as if my poor soul had been violated.  This is the beginning of all of that (or at least the beginning of me running away to some place outside the neighborhood).

The scene starts like this: I was right around 8 years old.  I had this neat bicycle with pink and purple glitter writing.  My older sister was staying with us for the weekend (she lived with her mom during the week) and I idolized her.  I can't remember everything leading up to it but she called me a rat or something of the sort and I thought that she liked my friend more than me (because my friend was just kind of cooler and a lot more like my sister) and so I was upset.  I got on my bike and decided that I was moving to Disney.  I knew the general direction and so off I set.  Me, my 8 year old self, and my bicycle.

En route to Disney I passed a neighbor as I was leaving the neighborhood and told him where I was headed.  He seemed to have no intention of stopping me as he assumed - I'm sure - that I was just some kid playing pretend.  Crisis averted, it was meant to be that I should live at Disney.  I took the long way around (by mistake) because I went down a one way exit from the airport going to opposite direction (yup, riding against the flow of traffic).  After about an hour I finally arrived at the Bee Line (now called the Beach Line) that takes you towards the beaches or Disney (even at 8 I knew how to make my way to the land of magic and happiness).  However, the Bee Line is a toll road highway.  I 1.) did not have change to pay the toll and 2.) did not know if they would allow me to pass through on my bike.  So, as any 8 year old would do, I stopped my bike on the side of the highway to try to figure out how I would solve this problem.

As my young brain is processing this dilemma, the following occurred.  My mom has realized I am missing and called the police.  An off duty cop who was taking his step-son home saw a young kid on the side of a highway and thought, "hmmm, maybe I should see what is going on." Said cop (really nice guy), in his uniform, pulls over and comes to talk to me.  He asks me what I am doing.  Oh man, now I have to process quickly.  So I tell him that I am just out for a bike ride and I live in the apartments that are right off the entrance to the highway (good gracious was I stubborn and persistent; I just freaking lied to the Popo).  He says that I should not be on the highway and to wait where I was.  This side of the story I know from my mother.  Cop gets on his cop radio and calls into dispatch, who is still on the phone with my mom, he relays that there is a young girl on the highway at least an hours bike ride from our house (my mom didn't know I had been gone so long). The dispatcher tells this information to my mom who answers "oh there is no way that could be her." She was wrong! After a detailed description of the child and the bike my mother realizes that her child is on a highway.  I am then loaded into the car with the cop, who offered to take me home (a ten minute drive), and his step-son. And that pretty much sums up my daring escape to the land of happiness.  In hindsight it is a fun story to tell, but let's pray my future daughter has less of my tendencies and more of her fathers.  

Needless to say I didn't really go anywhere for a while... until the next time I ran away, this time at night and with my younger brother, when we had our Gameboys taken away.  How I am still alive to tell this tale I have no clue but thank the heavens above that I was found by the right people.
What about y'all? Any other fellow runaway aficionados out there? 

Freezing Moments

It's Day 17 and Jenni is really not doing this indecisive girl any favors.  I have quite a few favorite pictures; I like them all really.  And no, this is not in a "toot-my-own-horn, I-think-I-am-a-looker" type of way.  Pictures to me signify memories.  Some of my favorite pictures are ones that I look horrible in but I love them because the memory behind them and knowing how I felt the moment the picture was snapped means so much more than whatever type of mess I might look like (like when I shared this memory).  So you get two pictures for today and can expect to see the rest of the ones I came across while hunting for these in day 28's post. 

The moment I saw this picture I was in love with it.  I know you can't see my face and no it is not just me.  Typically my favorite pictures never include just me, they always include some of my people and having my little people in them is just icing on the cake.  I love my little people.  It is so crazy to believe how much he has grown since this day. 

There is one that includes just me that, while not the best picture of me, pretty much sums up the feelings of my wedding morning for me and stops me every time I see it (it's also just pretty me in general).  I was anxious and curious. I wanted to see Babe before he saw me, I wanted to see how and where people were sitting and I wanted to know what I could expect to find out those back doors before I even thought of venturing out into what would be the rest of my life.  

* Photos courtesy of Nu Visions in Photography

I really enjoyed going through old photos as I made sure these were the ones I wanted to post.  I can't wait to see everyone else's.  

I Need Botox!

Hoping this picture of the waters of the Pacific helps bring me some peace before publishing this post...

It's day 16 of the challenge and I was going to go all deep and into big areas of my some of my "lots in life" but since I did some of that in this post here I thought I would go a little lighter. You now get to be let in on a big "secret" of mine. I am sharing this mainly because I am currently sitting with Wally (my person) and her sister and I told them they could pick my lot in life (who ever said trusting your friends was a good idea?!). Now that the issue is the only thing on my mind I probably won't be able to focus enough to write on anything else. So, the following is what you get! Though as I type I am seriously now sweating bullets thinking about posting this. It's not as if people I meet in public don't know that it can happen. On occasion, my "secret" can be pretty noticeable. This is not a secret that I am totally excited about sharing and something I try (in vain) to hide in public. 

I need Botox!! No, it is not what you're thinking (though as this thing called aging seems to increase wrinkles, I may need it in between the eyes soon too).  I need Botox in my armpits! I sweat glisten, A LOT!! It is embarrassing and horrible and total suckage (yes I said suckage).  It goes somewhat hand in hand with the clothes I can and can't wear and the fact that I stick very closely to my comfort zone of "fashion sense".

Though I will probably never get Botox because I have no idea how my body may react to that stuff and I don't want some foreign toxins floating around in my body I consider it all the time.  I have pretty much self diagnosed myself with hyperhydrosis (because I'm a doctor and all that).  Right now I am working to overcome it by the awesome deodorant regiment that I honestly think is just in my head, but hey, it seems to help.  I shower and immediately coat my armpits with three swipes of Clinical Strength Secret and then in the morning when I wake up (or when I dress if I am leaving right after I shower) I coat each pit with 5 swipes of Degree.  Yes, this is a science people and, yes, I do count! When and why and how it seems to happen has no rhyme or reason as one moment all will be perfectly fine and the next moment it's as if someone has turned a faucet on full blast.  I am waiting to try the new Stress Induced Secret stuff.  Fingers crossed that it rocks and drys these puppies up like the Sahara. 

Until I have figured out the exact science for getting this whole thing under wraps I will continue to constantly wear tanks or t-shirts, baby powder those suckers when needed, and learn to embrace the fact that my underarms will always be just a "tad bit" moist.

*As I am sitting here freaking out and reading this post aloud to Wall she asks "Do you feel free now? Maybe, you will feel better the more you share it." Well, here's to hoping I guess.  Right now I am just sweating!