Drama Day

Whew! This is the first moment I've had to sit down and breathe since writing my frantic update a few hours earlier. Thanks to each of you who took the time to write such encouraging messages for me; I felt very surrounded by happy thoughts when I read them.

And speaking of being surrounded, when I got to the beauty salon this afternoon, I was surrounded by no less than three stylists as they worriedly pondered the state of my hair. After some discussion and debate (and a few sympathetic sentiments sent in my direction) they came up with a plan. A "brief" two-and-a-half hours (and an unnamed amount of money) later, I was out the door in a revived, rescued and relieved state of mind. My hair was hugely improved and when I arrived home, Sarah was thankfully feeling much better.

So. Happy day!

Now I've got a couple emails to catch up with and then I will take myself off to bed before waking upt to the weekend in which our fate will unfold.

Yes, I do realize that is a dramatic thing to say, but unfolding fate tends to be a bit dramatic.

As does uncooperating hair.

This was most definitely a drama day.

HAIR CRISIS!!

I went in and had the "toner" put on my hair this afternoon.

Yikes!

It not only removed all the highlights but it turned my hair an entirely different color and it looks like I'm wearing a WIG because the color is so unnatural looking.

Can you feel the stress eking out of me from where you are?

Plus, this afternoon Sarah kept on saying she felt hot and nauseated and that she was going to throw up any moment. I thought, "Oh great. She's going to get the flu right before we're scheduled to leave."

STRESS!

She's feeling a bit better and I am on my way out of the door to throw myself on the mercy of someone who will (hopefully) restore my very odd hair to at least a semblance of normalcy. I knew it was bad when I walked into Sarah's room and her jaw dropped in unmitigated shock. Not exactly the reaction you want with hair color.

Alright.

I'm going.

And so are are my nerves . . .

Spurting and Non-Spurting. Welcome To My Life

Can you say nervous?

Well, that's just how our little family is feeling at the moment. In about twenty-four hours, we will pack up ourselves and our stuff (and maybe even a certain shopping purse!) and we will point our vehicle in the direction of Manteo. In the direction of our future. In the direction of a whole new way of life.






Much to my happiness, we will be staying at the same lovely hotel we were at when we went for our interview. I just adore staying at hotels that we could never afford on our own. (Actually, the church gets a special rate, so that's good.)

This is the view from our room.

You may remember my "bangs fiasco" of a few days ago? And how I was hoping they would have grown out a bit by the time we went back to Manteo?

Well, I am here to report to you that my bangs have grown about one half of one percentage of a centimeter times a nanosecond squared. (And here you thought I wasn't good at math!)

So I shall make my lovely appearance at Manteo with a lopsided hairline, which will not serve to fill me with all manner of confidence.

And what I didn't mention in the earlier "bangs post" was that I also had the stylist put in a few highlights near my face to help me look a bit more "perky." Well, as it turns out, the highlights were too bright and sort of unnatural looking, so I've been stressing out over those, too. This afternoon, I'm going to go in and have some "toner" applied to them and hope for the best.

Hmmm. Maybe I could have some "toner" applied to my hips and thighs while I'm at it, and "tone" those at the same time. GREAT idea!

Since I haven't bought any new clothes in a while, I went out yesterday and shopped a little bit. (While carrying my shopping purse, of course.) The more I tried things on, the more convinced I was that the "hip toner" was really going to be a necessary thing. Who knew that chocolate chips cookies went straight to that area of the body?

Their instructions? Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Just make a bee-line for the hip line.

Sigh.

Steve has been on the phone quite a bit this week with the church's drummer who we'll be working with this weekend. Steve was delighted to find out that the drummer (also named Steve) used to play in rock and roll bands in college, too. I have no doubt that the two of them will have a great deal of fun together!

As a rule, most pastoral candidates just go in, meet the folks, and preach a sermon; it adds a whole new dimension to also meet with the music people and run a rehearsal in preparation for playing together for the service. We're nervous and I'm sure they're nervous, too!

It's all very much like a first date that is filled with the hope that the meeting will lead to a happy marriage. There is a whole lot of anticipation, pressure, excitement and joy involved in the process.

As I mentioned earlier, tomorrow night we'll meet with the leaders (and spouses) in the church--there will be about forty people altogether. Steve and I are trying to memorize most of the names (and their positions) before we get there, although they will be wearing name tags, which will be quite helpful for our little ol' middle-aged brains.

With all the busyness and the business of candidating for this pastoral position, we never want to lose sight of the privilege it is to get to be pastors. Pastors are invited into the lives of people at their most vulnerable times; they get to be with them in moments of incredible joy and immense sadness.

Being a pastor requires flexibility, diplomacy, wisdom, love, tact, firmness, compassion, a sense of humor, and a secure self esteem; in essence, it requires a tough skin and a tender heart. The bottom line, though, is that being a pastor means getting the chance to make a difference in peoples' lives and we're excited about the possible opportunity to do that in Manteo.

I'll keep you posted as we go along and will definitely post Sunday night after the vote.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers for us as we make our way through this exciting, scary, exhilarating, challenging, tiring, fun, and life changing weekend.

(And maybe we could even join together our wishful thoughts in the hopes that my bangs would suddenly go through a growth spurt. And that my hips would go through a growth non-spurt. Spurting and non-spurting. Hips and bangs. Welcome to my life.)

The Extreme Hair Trauma Edition

Earlier this week, a horribly horrific and absolutely atrocious thing happened to me. To my very own person. To my very own hair on my very own person.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" you may say. "How bad could it possibly be?"

Um. This bad.

Do you see my eyes boring straight into you and repeating, "THIS BAD?"

Can you see me looking around sadly for help? For assistance? For a miracle? Anything?

Sigh.

I am very happy to report to you that even in the midst of my Extreme Hair Trauma, I didn't have a melt down or even a break down. I just said to myself, "Well, that's pretty upsetting but as far as I know the sun is going to rise tomorrow and my family will still love me. Even though I have the worst array of bangs the world has ever seen.

Sigh. Again.

The young lady who cut my hair has given me several excellent cuts in the past. I started going to her because she worked at a reputable salon and had a half price coupon in the paper. And you know how I am about a bargain.

I really liked her. And I still do. I know that all of us make mistakes no matter what our jobs are. It's just that, well, I'm a wee bit traumatized about having to wear the mistake for the next few weeks.

Actually, what she was trying to accomplish (per my request) were bangs like these, modeled for you by my lovely sister Debbie, who is seen here with a certain wild and wacky companion who shall remain nameless. (Hi, Nathan!)



I love Debbie's spikey bangs look so much that I printed off the picture and I showed it to my stylist.

And I got this.



I tried to remind myself that I am a mature, grown up person. I do not get upset over these kinds of petty occurrences. I try to look at the big picture of life. I try to appreciate how small this incident is in comparison to the large things going in peoples' lives.

But then I look at this. Again.

And then I feel compelled to not be a grown up anymore. I feel compelled to run to my room and cry. And throw something. And then follow that up with eating four pounds of chocolate.

With nuts.

And toffee. (I love me some toffee.)

Because at a moment like this, only chocolate can dig way, way down and address the traumatizing Hair Hurt that has seeped into my very soul.

And just so you know? I've never been overly particular about wearing fancy schmancy clothes or buying the latest styles; however, there is one appearance-related issue that is very dear to my heart. And that is-- my bangs. This is what they're supposed to look like.






Oops sorry. Wrong picture.

This is what they're supposed to look like.




The sad fact of the matter is that I possess a very high forehead and because of that, I have worn long bangs my whole life. In fact, until this week, it was not known for sure whether I even had a forehead, because it had never before been seen.

Folks. I DO have a forehead. And after this haircut, there will be absolutely no more doubt about that it because unfortunately, people will have to gaze upon it for many weeks to come.

And I so badly wanted to look wonderfully put together when we go to Manteo in two weeks. Oh well. I guess they can witness me at my worst now and then I'll just get better looking as time goes by.

Or not.

I'm really sorry to be laying this Hair Burden on you and I do sincerely hope that looking at pictures of my hair and my really high, alarming, never-before-seen forehead doesn't cause you to have nightmares.

But if I can't turn to you, my blogging buds, who can I turn to?

Sarah and Steve have already gone through their laundry list of compassionate, commiserative remarks but I am still really needing a few more rounds of comfort in order to assuage the massive amount of Hair Grief that I'm currently experiencing.

Anyway, thanks for listening.

I am now leaving the room.

To eat chocolate. And cry.

___________________

Alrighty this is now the next morning!

And yes, I'm relieved to report to you that the sun did indeed rise, despite the Extreme Hair Trauma of yesterday.

With great trepidation I washed and styled my hair after I got up, wondering if I could somehow "mush" my remaining hair strands around so that they would cover up the areas that are lacking. (Sort of like a "comb over," I suppose.)

Here is the result of my labors.



Not QUITE as bad as it looked last night.

Although my forehead is still very much in view, I am relieved to know that at least it's not so awfully bad that I can't go out in public. And I am relieved that I won't have to ask Steve to cancel our entire trip to Florida and tell the two churches we're scheduled at that we can no longer come because his wife had a "personal emergency." (smile)

The Extreme Hair Trauma Chapter is now coming to a close and I do believe that I will survive. I just hope my previously sheltered and non-publicized forehead is up to the challenge of being on display for the next few weeks. We'll see!

Now. Since I've already thoroughly embarrassed myself by showing you pictures of my adult hair when it is less than fabulous, I'll entrust you with some other "interesting" pictures of myself from past years. (You may laugh with me, but not at me.)

Don't you love the little curl over my right ear?

I was probably around 12 or 13 here; as you can tell, I didn't have the first clue about make up or hair styling.

My brother, Phil's, wedding. And in case you're wondering, I'm the one wearing the large green hat which was what all of us cool and groovy bridesmaids wore back in the 70's. (I know, I know. You're jealous.)

And here's an interesting bit of family trivia for you:

My mom is the only woman I know who wore the same dress to all SIX of her childrens' weddings! She never changed in size and the style was classic enough to just keep on wearing. I just think that is so cool.

Interesting hair from early in our marriage years . . .

. . . and early singing years. (That's my sisters with Steve and me.)



And finally, in an effort to exorcise all the terrible hair sights you have been exposed to today on this blog, I will close with a couple pictures of my mom.

Beautiful hair, beautiful face, beautiful heart.

When I grow up, I want to be like her.

_________________________________

Comment/Question Corner

Krista, the burners were just under $100 for four of them. We got ours at Lowes.

Mel, thanks so much for the packing tip! We will definitely remember that and use it. Packing tips of ALL kinds are welcome.

Mom to Ella, yes Manteo is definitely a hurricane zone, just like any town near the ocean. Thankfully, in recent years, a second bridge off the island has been built so I feel better knowing we can leave if necessary. We talked to one old-timer who's only left once in twenty years, so we'll see!

______________________________

In a few minutes, we'll be packing up the van and heading out for a ten hour trip to Florida. Tomorrow is going to be a challenging day trying to recover from today's travel and also singing and preaching in a church in Orlando at 10 am, then traveling 2 1/2 hours to sing and preach at another church at 6:30 pm. It's been many years since I have had to do two services in one day with a lot of travel in between. With my recent vocal problems, it will be even more of a challenge. Thanks for your prayers; I'll let you know how it goes.

Monday, we'll have lunch with Nathan on campus and do our best to find how many ways we can find to embarrass him. :-) Monday night, we are headed to his girlfriends' house (her parents are some of our dearest friends) for Nate's 20th birthday cookout. Tuesday, it's ten hours back home again.

I'll try to be in touch along the way to let you know how my forehead is faring . . . (smile)