I know.
I didn’t post a single thing yesterday. Frankly, I can’t believe it either.
But the last five days have been filled with a flight to Louisville, Kentucky (Not to be confused with Lexington. I hear that can happen.), four days at the last Deeper Still Conference, a Sunday morning flight back to San Antonio, two hours at home where I unpacked and repacked and then a quick trip to Comfort, Texas for the wedding of some dear friends, and watching the Aggies lose a baseball game 23-9 only to rebound and win last night for a trip to the College World Series.
(WHOOP!)
(And also, GIG ‘EM!)
Y’all. It has been a marathon. Or maybe a sprint. Or some other running analogy. All I know is I AM TIRED.
I also know that I have a lot of laundry to do and will have to go to the grocery store at some point. Fortunately that point wasn’t yesterday because I had told P to manage his expectations of any kind of home cooked meal being served.
The problem is that I don’t even know where to begin. The other problem is that I’m going on somewhere between zero and six hours of sleep. The other problem is that the T.V. in our living room broke on the last day of school. Which actually has nothing to do with the first two things, but I felt like I should include it while I’m composing a list of problems.
So let’s start with Thursday. Bops picked me up to drive me to the airport at 5:45. This is approximately three hours earlier than my desired wake up time and I probably should issue an apology to anyone who had to see me walk through the airport with bags under my eyes while growling and looking for the nearest Starbucks.
I arrived in Louisville after one grande non-fat latte and three bad magazines. (If you want to know the latest on Pippa Middleton just ask me. I know all about it, thanks to my never-ending quest for hard-hitting news stories.) We spent the rest of the day setting up the arena in Louisville and then I went back to the hotel to wait for Sophie to arrive so we could search out some mediocre Mexican food per our tradition. This is also when I noticed that Kentucky seemed to have an abnormally large number of folks that ride motorcycles. An observation that made much more sense when I realized our hotel was hosting some sort of biker convention as evidenced by a burly fellow wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves jauntily cut off with a Harley Davidson logo on the back. Oh, and he was missing an eye.
Once Sophie arrived we left go eat dinner, threw caution to the wind and ate very mediocre Mediterranean food instead. I can’t explain all the reasons why, but it’s largely due to us taking culinary advice from someone fresh out of college. And I don’t know if you know this, but college students aren’t really the best judge of good food. Take me for example. There was a time in my early twenties when I thought there was no finer meal than about four .99 cent crispy beef tacos from Taco Bell. Which explains an extra twenty pounds I put on between my sophomore and junior year. Well, the tacos and perhaps the Zima.
Friday morning we went back to the arena for the last of the set up and then back to the hotel until it was time for me to go do work that I prayed wouldn’t involve selling t-shirts for $2.00. And the Lord heard me and I helped with the greeters at a door where only about sixteen entered. Yet I still had the power of a walkie-talkie. It was perfection.
The rest of the weekend went by so fast and was a whirl of laughing until I thought I was going to be sick, spending time with friends, eating a bag of Double Chocolate Milanos and listening to some great messages. I wish I could put it all into words but that would be impossible.
Here are the cliff notes :
Priscilla taught about the importance of rest, which she referred to by the Hebrew term “Shabbat”. I plan to crack myself up regularly by telling people I need to take a Shabbat. Because I am twelve.
But in all seriousness it was such a good, practical message about creating some margin in our lives and not living lives that are filled with being so busy that all we end up knowing is that we’re tired.
Beth taught about the links between the generations and had every woman identify themselves as a Timothy, Eunice, or Lois based on 2 Timothy. It was all about how each generation has something to offer the others, but there is no way for me to explain it all because, well, I’m not Beth Moore. I was also thrilled to still be a Timothy and patted Sophie and consoled her for being a Eunice. Until she said, “You better listen to what she says about the Eunices because you’re hanging on to Timothy by a very thin, two month thread”.
And as I stood with the Timothys and saw all these darling young girls with tricky braids in their hair, I realized that YES, I am much closer to the Eunice side of things.
Finally it was Sunday morning and time for me to fly home. And this is where I am sad to report that the TSA went TOO FAR. They confiscated by almost full bottle of Garnier Wonder Waves hair spray. I knew I was playing fast and loose to think it would make it through security, but no one blinked an eye when I flew from San Antonio to Louisville. But those Kentucky TSA folks do NOT play around and they searched my entire suitcase thanks to my daring hair product escapade. AND they tried to take my Aveeno Face Scrub until I pointed out it was almost empty and was in NO WAY over three ounces of liquid. It was a narrow face scrub escape.
And I don’t really know what the moral of that story is unless it’s that maybe you shouldn’t feel totally secure flying out of the San Antonio airport because they will totally turn an eye to eight ounces of good hair product and who knows where that could lead?
All I know is there is some TSA agent in Kentucky who is probably rockin’ some good wavy beach hair.
I landed back in San Antonio and was so happy to see my peeps and eat some Mexican food for breakfast. And then it was time to head to a wedding.
But that’s a story for tomorrow.