I’m a Creep. I’m a Weirdo.

What the heck am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.

-Radiohead

I typed out these lyrics to Creep in a Facebook message. Little did I know, they would dramatically change my life. It was, in all honesty, the only Radiohead song I knew.

I saw an update status asking if anyone would be interested in Radiohead concert tickets on Sunday. Well I really wasn’t, unless I could get my brother to come down from Oklahoma, but being it was a Sunday night that wasn’t likely to happen. The bigger question to me and the one that I asked to my casually acquainted Facebook friend……why aren’t you going?

He admitted to not having a date, going through a hurtful divorce, and the regular woes of life that we all get so caught up in that we forget to – well – have fun.

Then I wowed him with my lyrical knowledge. “I’m a creeeep! I’m a weeeeirdooooo!” Never mind I wasn’t singing but typing. I’m that good.

He was so impressed that he found a fellow Radiohead fan in all of Facebook-land that he offered to take me to the concert, so we could crone as one.

I did what any single girl would do trying to become a crazy fan in 48 hours or less to impress a guy. I google searched a few more songs. Surely I knew more than one Radiohead song. Right???

I found Karma Police. Yeah. I think I heard one of the contestants sing that on Rockstar INXS. Cool! I watched the video. See I was a Radiohead fan after all. No problem.

We made plans to meet at his house at 6pm to head from Arlington to Dallas. I talked to him for the first time on the phone the day before to set it up. I, incredibly, got there at 6pm sharp. For those that know me that was a miracle in itself.

As I pulled up, the garage door opened and there stood my date – that wasn’t a date – but just a kind gesture of servitude to another concert going Radiohead fan (heh).

Our eyes met in smiles right away, he was MUCH better looking in person than in his picture and what surprised me most of all…he was TALL. 6ft 1in. If only Facebook gave profile stats, I could have known. I wore my high heel sandals thinking he was short. I know. Don’t try to compute the logic, I had guy issues. Ahem. I’m a creeeeppp.

Off we head to Dallas, listening to Radiohead in the car, except I didn’t know it was Radiohead since I only knew ONE song. Maybe two if my Google memory held out. I actually figured it out AFTER the concert when I truly was a new turned fan.

Didn’t matter anyhow, we talked the whole way – about – everything. If there is one thing my momma taught me it was how to have a conversation, with anyone, anywhere, anytime. Thanks mom! I’ll chat with you later when I have a few hours *wink*.

It was a good thing too. It took hours just to get INTO the concert. Never have I seen so many people going to a concert at Superpages.com, or better known as the Smirnoff, or more simply Fairpark, in all my life.

The park was packed. Our seats were just under the awning – which was GREAT – considering the entire lawn behind us had seating that was really far back and ALL of it was standing room only. The concert started right after we sat down and it took my breath away. Literally or Lyrically. I guess both.

And really I can’t describe it, but those things hanging down..they changed colors. They glowed. They flashed. They did everything but walk off the stage, or maybe they did that too. It was all in tune to the beat, and the motion of the music, which was poetry in itself. Incredibly awesome, like nothing I have ever seen.

These images are from a google search. Our view was more like this.

But honestly? It didn’t matter where we sat. It was the greatest, most energetic, dramatic, artfully choreographed media concert show I have ever seen and, trust me, I’m no concert virgin. There was a time I thought I was watching a video being played on a big screen, when in fact it was in live time with the stage. It was that good.

I felt SAD when it ended. When our night ended. I felt like we went through something special together and a friendship bond formed. Was it love at first sight? Not at all. I was pleasantly surprised by him. Blown away by the concert, and really enjoyed our long car conversations. *It took three hours to get OUT of the concert*

Jason, my friend, my boyfriend, now my future husband – Happy TWO year anniversary of our meet date. I can humbly say, May 18, 2008, a Radiohead concert, truly changed my world by bringing you into it.

You know the funniest twist to it all? They didn’t even play Creep.

I’m a creep.
I’m a weirdo.
What the heck am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.
Oooh-oooh.

Timeless Deeds

Last Christmas, I was not glowing from head to toe from radioactive iodine thyroid testing nor from the sheer glee of getting engaged. In fact, I wasn’t glowing at all….well yet.

See, the sales representative for the travel company I work for decided to take me on a road trip to Austin. We were to meet a new client I would be assigned to. This was great. A whole day off work. A ride three hours to Austin and three hours back. Lots of time to talk and catch up. I have worked with Debbie over 17 years. We have been through a lot together. Grown a lot together. It’s not just a friendship. It is a history.

I soon discovered road tripping with Debbie was not all it was cracked up to be. She liked to stop – a LOT. I am a get there kinda gal (similar to a guy but not quite). So we stop. And we stop. And we stop again. I went inside the store and got a Coke to drink. I figured why not. I need a good caffeine sugar rush. I leave the store right behind Debbie. She goes to the driver side to get in. I am walking towards the passenger side.

I am looking at the ground. I remember thinking to myself the parking lot was flat. There wasn’t a step. Just as I thought that, I felt my foot hit not pavement but air. Unfortunately foot number two was already following close behind. Instantly, I had no footing and down I went. One hand held a Coke so it splayed outward, the other hand – my right – caught the concrete. HARD.

It was not pretty or graceful. It was SPLAT. I fell forward landing on knees and one arm. I ripped a hole in my pants on the right knee. My Coke was broken and spewing. I was really bummed about that. I was pretty stinkin’ poor and didn’t want to dish out another buck for a Coke. I stood right up and shook myself off. Debbie was shocked. The truck passenger next to us, also shocked. But I was okay. I WAS. I was embarrassed to no end, but just fine thankyouverymuch.

The nice lady in the store gives me a free Coke (bless you). Onward we go to Austin, and my wrist begins to swell nice and round. Then it hurts. Debbie stops so I can get ice. Debbie stops to get cookies from a bakery for the client. I can no longer open the car door with my right hand. We stop again at the clients place. I can no longer open car doors, office doors, and now shaking hands is a real booger. Nice to meet you. OUCH.

We head back. Debbie is extremely worried. I am still very much embarrassed. I feel like a dufus. I FELL OFF A CURB. I assure her. At the most it is sprained, please don’t worry. I wasn’t going to. And I didn’t. Back in Dallas, the swelling has not gone down. Now I am bruising down the inside of my arm. A friend comes by and sees it. He thinks I should have it checked out. Debbie is texting me, begging me to get it checked out.

Finally, I decide to go to the doctor just to make sure. I head to the CareNow clinic by Jason’s house. This is when I saw him again after a two month break, what a great excuse to see him. How could he resist? I was maimed. The doctor x-rays my hand after a quick diagnosis of movements. I could not lift my hand up, flexing from the wrist. (FYI-I was still able to text). She comes back into the room with the results of the x-ray.

“Do you think your injury is severe?”

I put down my phone with my right hand, stopping a text to give her full attention. I shrugged, “I think it’s sprained. I fell down. It’s really embarrassing.”

“Ms. Sims, your hand is fractured not just in one place but TWO.”

Oh yikes, suddenly my texting ability is gone (I switch to my left hand). My hand feels funny now. Not a good funny. “Are you serious????”

“Yes, I am. This is a very dangerous break. You have broken a carpel bone that has blood flow in it. If not properly casted in seven days the bone could die. You also have a buckle fracture to your radius bone in your forearm.”

WHAT? She slips a splint on. “You can take this off but don’t use the hand. It’s very important you see an Orthopedic doctor within seven days.”

Holy Moly. This is serious. I friggin’ BROKE my arm. My RIGHT arm. OMG!

Life as I knew it changed dramatically. I will ask you to try (just once) brushing your teeth with your left hand. Opening doors with your left hand. Pulling up, and buttoning pants ONE handed. And I won’t even ask you to try writing because..well, that’s just mean. I went from completely independent and freakishly strong to – a weakling. Not only a weakling, but a weakling incapable of the smallest tasks, a weakling incapable of the smallest tasks AT CHRISTMAS. Ahhhhhh!

And I am not going to kid you. It HURT like nobodys business. It hurt worse than anything should hurt. Not just pain, but an ache, a constant ache that no medicine could cure. I won’t go into the drama of getting it casted but let’s just say, two doctors, and a dozen frantic calls later. I get a cast. A cast that feels like it weighs FIVE pounds. A cast that I did NOT get to pick the color. It was yellow. Not just any yellow but like a highlight marker yellow. This picture does not do it justice.

I mean why not tape a caution sign to my back too. Let’s just announce what a hazard I am. Beep. Beep. Beep. Big yellow bus coming through. I always thought having a cast would be cool. NOT.

Well, I have to give myself credit. I can be pretty ingenious when I want to be. When I am faced wearing a bright yellow cast, I get ingenious. So, I decided to buy some fabric marker pens from Michaels and paint that sucker!

Here is the result.

Beautiful ain’t she? You could hardly see the yellow. I was pretty proud of myself. If I was going to get noticed for a cast, let it be for a purple one. Not a dang yellow banana!

I somehow learned to type (because my job depended it on it) with a casted right arm. I typed FAST. It was pretty incredible. It HURT horribly. My shoulders ached from the offset of the cast, then from having to hoist my arm up all day to type with the four fingers sticking out. At night was the only time I took a pain pill. I had to take baths. It’s really hard to scrub with just one hand. Go ahead, try squeezing soap, with one hand, on a buff or a washcloth. Nope, don’t cheat. ONE HAND. The other is in a cast wrapped in five plastic bags, you don’t even have fingers to use.

The simplest things were a challenge. Like washing my hair one handed. At first, I tried a friend washing my hair in the sink for me, but that did not work at all. Then, I figured out a system, in the kitchen sink, with small dixie cups filled with shampoo and conditioner. It worked quite well I thought.

Eventually, I got bored with purple. I thought..black would be better. Black goes with anything. Another portrait on my arm.

Yeah, uhh, black over purple over yellow. Eh. Not so good. You know what? Nothing I could do about it. I made it another week and colored it again. (well, first we tried to SAND the black off, then color it). I think my cast dang near FELL off from abuse. It didn’t. It ended up green. (yes I know I should have left it purple) In my defense, I was in a cast for SEVEN weeks. SEVEN.

My daughter and her boyfriend, so kindly, put up the Christmas tree. They hung every ornament. Every wreath. Every candy cane. They cleaned every week for me. They carried in groceries. Anything they could do to help me, they did. I can not even tell you what a blessing that was. There is not much worse than a broken arm, and the brokenness you feel as a person. To have two teenagers step up in compassion and care was truly amazing.

Last Christmas was NOT easy, but I will never forget the Timeless Deeds those kids performed.

Merry Christmas, may it be as bright and cheery as my yellow cast.

And just in case you wondered if a cast stopped me from trying anything fun……….I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Courage, sacrifice, determination, commitment, toughness,heart, talent, guts. That’s what little girls are made of; the heck with sugar and spice.

-Bethany Hamilton-greatest female surfer of our time.

Random Awesomeness

Last night, sitting in the recliner with Jason’s oldest daughter, age five, playing Italian words off my 24/7 Italian app on iPhone. She repeated each word perfectly. She even rolled her R’s. I love this kid. She is awesome. I can’t wait to take her to Italy, for Italia-awesomeness.

Jason’s youngest daughter who is three, with no prompting, throwing her arms around me saying, “I wuv you.”  And always, always pooching her lips up for a good-by kiss when I leave. A child’s love awesomeness.

Sydney cooking cheese enchiladas for her Spanish class fiesta. I sure didn’t teach her how to cook, but she just loves to. Breaking the cycle awesomeness.

My mom coming for Thanksgiving, FOR REAL. Awh-SOME! Oh, and bringing her famous cheese balls. Nummy food awesomeness.

Jason buying a new mattress, and a new nightstand for the guest bedroom in his house. Doing it for my mom when she visits  for Thanksgiving. Taking her out for Sushi, putting up with her five dogs.   Full throttle – oh my heart – awesomeness.

Still tucking Sydney in to bed, at age fifteen, shhh don’t tell her friends. That last kiss and hug is my nightly being a mommy AWESOME-ness.

Heart swelling up when I get a thank you call from Carter Bloodcare about my donation. I get to hear a blood recipient detail their story of how a blood donor saved their life. Tear jerking awesomeness.

Wearing Jason’s pajama pants in the winter while running around my house. Thinking of him in my pure comfy awesomeness.

Volunteering in the Church nursery, playing with three boys when in struts  a two year old diva wearing these. Pink Texan boot kicking awesomeness.

Petunia flower pot in my driveway blooming in November. One-of- a- kind, never say die awesomeness.

A short blog post from me – hated by spell checker – bloggedy  blog AWESOME-ness.

Have a most AWESOME,  Thanksgiving Eve!

May all, and I do mean ALL, your foodie dreams come true.