Under The Shiny Rock

It's tempting in this online world to make yourself into a perfect product. It's all too easy to showcase just the good stuff.

The trips

The accolades

The good pictures (and delete the 57 where your arms looked fat)

The home cooked meals

The fresh flowers

I'm guilty. Yep, it's always easier to report on the good stuff. And I think that's ok. It helps to document the blessings, so you can look back on them during the dry times and remember. And give thanks.

But I also want to remember some of the bad times. I'm really glad I've written about situations that have been tough to maneuver. And I'm glad that I've written about battles that we are still fighting. Facing and acknowledging the bad has always been, for me, the best ways to deal with it.

So here, for posterity, is the story of today. If my life seems like a shining diamond on the surface, here's a bit of the moss and bugs that live underneath:

Today I went to the Define West University studio for my desk job training. I'm going to start working there part time, just 20 hours a week or so. It's going to be a little bit of mad money, and a way to take up some of my eternal free time (I know, it's so so sad that I have too much time for Breaking Bad marathons).

I showed up at 10am and parked across the street from the studio. The bar across the street is fine with Define peeps parking there, so I pulled in no probs. I did notice a "You will be Towed"sign for the auto repair shop that is next to the bar, but since I was parking next to a bunch of other girls all going to work out, I figured that lot must be safe.

No dice.

An hour later, the owner of the studio came into the back and said that cars were being towed out of the lot across the street. And as I looked out the window, there was my 4-Runner being dragged gracelessly away by a large tow-truck.

At this point, as is usually my reaction when something shocking is happening, I couldn't feel a thing. I wasn't angry or upset in anyway. This just can't be happening. To me. On my first day. The first time I parked in that lot.

When the emotions did kick in was when I went to the auto shop to ask how I could get my car back, and the angry manager decided to take out all his months' worth of rage at the Define trespassers on me. And no amount of my teacher tricks (ie using a calm voice, apologizing, trying to listen respectfully) could calm his wrath.

When he finally ran out of lung capacity, he was kind enough to give the me address of the towing company. My sweet friend, Mallory, then drove me out to the far south side of town where I encountered my first towing lot and the lovely employees and patrons that frequent such places. And despite his lack of teeth and mouth full of cigarette, the guardsman of all rebellious, imprisoned vehicles was able to tell me that I could in fact have my car back, for reasonable price of $218.

And there you have it. I would like to say that I laughed merrily through this all, just grateful for my health and the love of my family and friends, and that this was just a funny little story to tell later over scones and iced raspberry tea.

I wish I could tell you that. But life just massively sucks sometimes. And instead of handling those moments with grace, sometimes we cry, sweat, and order the large queso and chips at lunch.
Side Note: You know I will truly have let go of my vanity when I post a picture of my sweaty, red, tearstained face while holding a greasy chip covered in melted cheese.

And my pettiness also was quick to rise to the surface. Out of all the cars trespassing in that lot, why did they tow mine? What about the girl in the red Range Rover? Or the lady next to her in the Acura? Do they have something against 4-Runners? Or me? Why me?! Why, world, why??!!!

Side Note: Remember this is all being wailed with a mouth full of queso and tortilla chips. And I was still sweating. A lot.

While consoling me at lunch, Mallory was quick to point out that these terrible events tend to happen in 3's. I'm hoping this is true, because since June:

1. My car broke on vacation and needed over $1000 worth of repairs. Kind of hard to enjoy Dollywood to it's fullest with that going on.

2. Our washing machine leaked into the unit below us ruining the new owners recently installed hard wood floors. Whoops! Welcome to the neighborhood!

3. Walton lost an eye. And you think losing an eye would be relatively inexpensive, I mean, you're not gaining something right? Nope, not right at all. Basically, you can lose an eye or fly to Thailand (with money left over for a round of drinks at the airport bar).

and now the car towing.

So that's 4? Does that mean I have 2 more coming my way? Or do 2 of the previous events somehow count as 1?

I'm no pro at Karma Math, but I'm really hoping I've felt the last of "that sinking feeling" for awhile.

So there you go folks. Ain't life a doozy?!

But that's just the nasty, mossy, dank, underbelly of my shiny diamond of an existence. The rest is all trips to Europe and skinny arms. I swear.

Update: Life After Europe

First off, I do have a bunch of pictures and stories to share from our European jaunt. It was everything we needed: restful, interesting, easy-going, and NEW! It's the best experience to experience something for the first time.

Unfortunately, our homecoming didn't go as we expected. While we were gone, Walton developed an infected eye, most likely thanks to a cat scratch. Things progressed badly, and it ended with Walton having surgery on Wednesday to have the eye removed.

Although it's difficult to look at his little face with all the stitches, he's in much better spirits since his surgery and seems to be out of pain. It was a scary, sad week, and certainly not what we wanted to come home to after vacation, but we are thankful our little one is on the mend.

So until I can finish loading our vacation pictures, here are three pictures that pretty much sum up our week since we've been back from Europe:

Walton's been getting sweet "get well" gifts from lovely friends and family. This lovely basket is from James's brother Chris, his wife Marsha, and their three gorgeous girls. Walton is loving the surplus of treats. However, he most certainly does not love his Elizabethian-style collar.

 Doesn't he look like he could be Jack and Sally's dog from Nightmare Before Christmas?

We've been having lots of night in lately. I think after lots of hotel staying, it's been nice to spend time in our own casa. And having some of our favorite wine around makes it all the more alluring.

Rest. And lots of it. Between Europe, Walton's eye surgery, and football season getting ready to start (who all is gonna be in Austin?! Let us know!), we needed a week of naps, tv watching, and microwave mac n' cheese. We promise we will start more productive endeavors soon . . . or soonish.

Tomorrow's the Day!

We will be on our merry little way this time tomorrow. Off to explore the Old World!

Have I packed yet? Of course not! But I've thought about it a lot.

One wants to make a good impression, and represent the Americas well. Even though our friend Rob said we would get treated better if we say we are from Canada. Hey, if it gets us bar service faster, I'll claim Vancouver.

I've also asked Luke for some tips. He's a master of the the dashing, slightly mysterious, with a splash of haughty, European look:

Tres chic!

I will do my best to try a bit o' the blog while over yonder, but in case that doesn't work out, be comforted with the knowledge that I'll be taking pictures of literally everything.

Au revoir dear friendlies!

I rarely think about envy, but I feel it, often. I think I consider it in the realm of childish feelings that shouldn't apply anymore. Envy is right up there with being afraid of the dark- haven't I grown out of that by now?

We were discussing envy yesterday at our love group gathering. Lisa was sharing how easy it is to give in to envy, especially when we should be celebrating another person's "TaDa!" moments.

TaDa! moments are those moments when you are front and center. Something wonderful has happened to you, and everyone knows about it, and for awhile, you are basking in the bright sunshine of positive attention, and lots of it. Having a TaDa! moment is a glorious feeling. Sharing in someone else's moment? Not always so glorious.

No matter how old we get, we never quite outgrow that little green monster. And I think he's even harder to avoid these days, when our online connections seem to be constantly streaming other people's TaDa! moments right into our homes.  And sometimes it's easy to celebrate with our friends and family. Especially if their special moment involves something we don't want, or already have.

It's a bit harder to put on your party hat when someone else gets something you DO want and you DON'T have. Here are a couple of scenarios that might sound familiar:

1. Money is tight, and you've been "doing without" for awhile, and your friend just uploaded pictures from his two week long vacation in the South of France. And even though you don't like French food, it tastes a lot better than the Ramen noodles you've been living off of lately.

2. You haven't had a (good) date in over a year. There doesn't seem to be a decent guy left on the North American continent, and if there is one, he's either taken or you already met him and wrecked it. 

And just when it can't get any desolate, your (much) younger sister calls to tell you she's engaged, so apparently there was one decent guy, but she's already got him.

3.  That position at work that you don't want, you REALLY want, is available, and your boss has indicated it's all but yours, until he gives it to your co-worker.

TADA!!!

Isn't just soooooo easy to celebrate with your dear friendlies and family?!

And by the way, in one form or another, I've experienced every one of those situations, and, of course, handled them with perfect grace and a loving spirit. yep, sure did.

So what do we do? Is the simplest solution just to slap on your extra-excited-for-you grin and hope it covers the green noxious smoke coming out of your ears?

This was our discussion yesterday, when sweet Stephanie shared a story about her twin brothers:

When they were little, as is often the ancient curse of twins, they would occasionally be given a gift to "share." And even if it was something really, really, really cool, there was always the issue of who actually got to open it. And as anyone who has been on the receiving end of a gift knows, the actual unwrapping of the gift can sometimes be the best part (sorry, anyone who's ever given an "As Seen On TV" item as a present).

So there it was, Christmas, and once again the twins were in the awkward position of bartering for who got to open the shared gifts. It was getting a bit sticky until one of the brothers came up with a brilliant problem solver and said, "Brother, why don't you open it, and I'll jump for joy?!"

What a perfectly perfect solution.

None of us get to open all of the gifts all of the time. And none of us will ever get everything on our wish list. And we only have a certain amount of socially acceptable reactions when someone else gets exactly what WE wanted.

And yes, faking happiness while secretly hating your source of envy is a possible reaction. But it's also draining and a drag.

I need to learn to jump for joy. Always. No matter how much I want someone else's TaDa! moment. I need to learn to be just as excited when someone else opens a present as when I open one. 

Isn't the whole point of a TaDa! moment, and what makes it so special, is that you get to feel joy? Imagine feeling it without ever opening the present yourself.

Sign me up for summa that (said with sassy twang and a finger snap).

BRC & Me

Last night we put on some nice duds and headed over to one of our favorite restaurants, BRC, for a 5 course dinner that paired each course with a different beer from the local Karbach brewery.

In case you had any doubt what BRC stands for, please see the picture below of me standing in front of their mascot:

Hmm, it's big, it's red, and it's a  . . . yep! You got it! It's a chicken. A.Big.Red.Chicken. There couldn't possibly be anymore to it than that. Ok, I'll stop now.

The menu for the evening looked very promising. BRC is known for it's comfort food, and their signature item is their cheddar-bacon biscuits topped with chicken fried steak and gravy. So obviously they also try to be as health conscious as possible.
Anyhew, as you can see, the menu certainly got us excited about the tasty treats ahead:

But I'z gotta say, the food was rather underwhelming. It was good, but not great. I think part of the problem was that they veered so far from what they normally serve. None of these items are part of their regular menu.
I appreciate that they tried some different items, but I found myself wishing for that good ol' biscuits and gravy dish.
But there were some highlights, including this little fried ball of loveliness:

See that little sugared darling on the right? That was a pretty spectacular apple fritter, who I gobbled before we could even be properly introduced.
And that guy on the left? He's a beer float, as in root beer float's older, more flirtatious cousin.

We also had some great company to enjoy this fun little experiment with:

Mel and Tate came out as well. Matt missed out, because he was being a nerd at his MBA night class. Loser.

It was a great night. And I hope I didn't come across too harsh about BRC. I LOVE that place! I love it so much I even made their facebook page while sharing drinks with girlfriends . . .

 . . . at 2:37 in the afternoon. But don't judge- by my book it's still summer vacation.