Category Archives: Texas

I Can’t Say, “Yes!” to the Dress… Yet.

Eldest is getting married to a pretty cool guy in two months. They have been engaged for many years and their relationship has survived both living 1700+ miles apart, living together and then some additional separation while he’s an OTR (long distance) semi driver. There are many relationships that can’t handle the separation, but they make it work. He’s from a loving family and his parents are pretty great. I’m very blessed Eldest is becoming part of their clan and her fiance is becoming part of ours.

However, I have a stupid problem. Surgery issues aside, I am trying to find something to wear for the wedding which will be held at Palo Duro Canyon, the second largest canyon in the entire country. It’s one of my favorite places, truth be told. In college, I spent many hours hiking the various trails, riding horses along trails and creek beds and I also spent time with some really great friends there. There’s something special about it that I can’t exactly pinpoint, but it exists. But with the “magic” comes the Texas Panhandle weather. It can be very warm and windy where the Pavilion is located. Ahhh… the joys of Texas. If you have never visited PDC, it really is pretty after some rain. There’s also the musical, appropriately titled “Texas” held in the natural amphitheater of the canyon. People come from all over the world for the experience.

Lighthouse Trail at Palo Duro Canyon
The Mack Dick Pavilion in Palo Duro Canyon after the canyon has received plenty of rain. (Also known as the wedding venue)

Sorry. Once again I totally digressed. Squirrel!

Getting back on track – Finding the “perfect” attire is contingent on a number of factors the least of which is the aforementioned heat and wind. (I don’t want a Marilyn Monroe moment as no one needs to see the extra fluff I carry around.) I also don’t want to “match,” but compliment the wedding party colors. My daughter is wanting a Derby Day kind of feel, but right now, I rather feel like a horse after the race.

Photo: Churchill Downs in Louisville, KY

Fact: I hate dresses. I literally despise them. I’d rather rack up frequent flyer miles to Dante’s 1st level of hell. I’ve worn a few. Literally. A few. I think I can count about 12 from the time I was 15 on. I didn’t even wear a dress to my own wedding. I wore a skirt suit and as hot as it was, shorts and a t-shirt would have done nicely. I honestly don’t even know why I purchase dresses other than jeans aren’t socially acceptable to certain events.

SO…. then the question of the day: Why is it so hard to find something appropriate to wear as the “Mother of the Bride?”

Insert Long-Winded Diatribe Here: UGH…….

Eldest and I went to just two stores one day this week because that’s really all I could handle post-op. I tried on several things. There was one I loved the color of, but it was ill fitting and fated back to the racks. There was a dress that looked like I was wearing a bib. I’m well past the age of wearing a bib. There were other dresses I may have liked, but as I’m fluffy, they were ill-fitting to say the least.

In my internet travels around the world, I have seen more than TWO THOUSAND dresses & “dressy pants suits” in the past few weeks. No. That is not an exaggeration in the slightest. There are some really beautiful dresses and outfits, but none that scream “me” let alone “mother of the bride” or rather “me as a mother of the bride” to me. And those that bear the claim “mother of the bride,” Oy vey. Let me tell you…

I don’t feel any inclination in shoving my extra fluff into body-hugging sausage casing. There’s also no need to let the girls hang out nor let my belly button show. Pleats belong on Catholic School Girl uniforms, certain Kilts or Brittany Spears. I really don’t need a slit in a dress clean up to my hip. Lace. There is so much freaking lace. WHY? It’s often itchy, is easily ripped, and did I mention the “itchy factor?” Velvet / Brocade in June is just untenable. Feathers?!? Oy. Mesh / Tulle is also uncomfortable and I’m definitely not looking for anything that is see-through or that you could use to sift flour. Sequins are probably great for illuminating the runaway for a Boeing 777, (and I actually kind of like them – shocker, I know.) Leather? In June? (Did you ever see that episode of Friends with Ross and the leather pants? That would be me.)

Then there’s the cuts. (I’m not talking steak here, but now that I mention it, a good Ribeye sounds good.) I’m talking about A-line, Mermaid, Ballgown, Sheath, Column, Fit & Flare, Maxi, Mini, Empire, Revel, Wraps, Halters, Tunics, V-Waists, Body-Cons, Peasant, Prairie, Strapless, Two-Piece, Grecian … oh … let’s NOT forget the dress cut wanna-be’s: jumpsuits, your second worst enemy in a bathroom emergency. The first is shape wear often just referred to as Spanx. The less said about that, the better. But if you don’t know what this rather uncomfortable shape wear is, here’s just one of the “samples.”

Assets by Spanx

Finally… the colors and sizes. I was blessed with my mom’s eye for color and my dad’s build. The dresses/outfit’s I’ve deemed tolerable don’t even come close to the colors in Eldest’s wedding and those that do – don’t come in the size I need. (I’m trying to “downsize,” but post op it’s difficult.)

Do you know who is going to stand out like a sore thumb when this is all over?

This girl.

Me.

In short… In a few months, I’ll likely be the girl in the very, very sparkly hot pink dress wearing matching Converse tennis shoes and a feather boa whilest drinking schnapps and wondering just what happened.

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Holy Gerbil Turds, Batman…!

I assumed today’s migraine was brought to you by eating products containing MSG for the last two days. I was wrong.

Sort of.

I’m pretty sure the #MSG in products I consumed last night did not help in the slightest with this migraine and neuralgia problem going on today.

Enter the real culprit stage west.

I did not know it was supposed to #rain today. There was not an inkling in any universe where I would have dreamed that I would have a #thunderstorm building right on top of our house. We do. It’s a squall line. (And fabulously justifies the #pain I’ve been in all day.)

Yesterday or the day before ( I cannot remember) The air was thick and heavy and you could see thunderstorms trying to blow through the lid which was strong and/or thick enough to keep any type of rain from happening.

So… As it was supposed to be 108° today, I did not check to see if there was any chance of rain. I mean, this is the #Texas Panhandle and we rarely get this kind of rain when it’s that hot. (Note to self: check the forecast even if it’s gonna be 108° outside.) As the majority of my migraines and neuralgia issues stem from swift changes in barometric pressure and temperature, I should’ve realize this this morning and checked. I didn’t. I feel like a dork.

Anyhooo… I got out of bed to eat some “lightly fried chicken” and French fries Kyle made so I can take my evening #meds. Dang!!!! That man made a delicious dish I could literally eat every day. It was perfection and better even than Chick Fil A (who also unfortunately uses MSG in their chicken.) I can’t wait for Jessica to try it, but she’s passed out in the other room after working a 16 hour shift – another story all together.

Anyway, I know I’m a human barometer and I really should have checked when I let Gigi out to do her thing at the butt-crack of dawn. I’ll do that in the future. Meanwhile I’m laying down in a darkened room listening to the “Pop for Reading” playlist as well as the rain, hail and thunder provided by my Abba.

God is good all the time…

~Celeste~

Ridin’ the Storm Out

“Ridin’ the storm out, waitin’ for the thaw out…” 
– REO Speedwagon – 
It’s a beautiful, bright and sunny day in the Texas Panhandle. Not a cloud in the sky dampens the horizon. Yet, here I sit procrastinating. The storm of change is coming and I should be preparing for its onslaught, but I’m not. I’m in a state of fear and denial. I’m like the proverbial ostrich sticking its head in the sand. However, like the bird, my butt is sticking up in the air and I’m sure I’m about to take one for the team with no lube, if you know what I mean.  

My spousal unit tells me I don’t have to carry the burden alone for what’s going on at home. I’m cynical and jaded right now. I feel like I do.  I have to-do list after to-do list made up.  They grow longer by the day and there’s not enough hours to tackle even a portion of them. So I suppose that’s why it’s easier to sit and do nothing than to get off my ass and do “something.” But as the deadline for having all this stuff done grows near, the self-loathing for not having anything done sooner will grow to biblical proportions and I’ll be kicking myself in the hind-end that already took one. Double-whammy.

How does one prep for change when one doesn’t want things to change in many regards, but does in others? How does one know if they are doing the right thing or the wrong thing? How does one make decisions that alters their life, but also the lives of so many people around them for good, bad or indifferent and those people don’t have much say? It frustrates me on a level that’s almost unbearable. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing and there’s at least one person I need help from that’s is unwilling to do so. It’s frustrating beyond the tolerable and I try to shove that fed-up part of me in the back of my mind, but it niggles at me from time to time and I just want to break like a squall line dumping rain across the plains.  (Long run-on sentence. Sorry.)

I wish I could say more as to what’s going on, but I’m not at liberty right now. Just know that my life is upside down and I don’t like the view. I’ve lost my rose-colored glasses. If I can just ride this storm of change out and wait for the thaw out, things will be okay. But right now, I’m feeling the outflow boundary, the winds kicking up and the rush of air blowing across my face. I see the lightning on the horizon and hear the distant rumbles of thunder. The storm is coming and as it hits I will just pray for the best. 

Okay… going to suck it up and get to work. Tally-Ho!