Book Recommendation

I just found out that one of my very favorite college friends, Russ Masterson, recently published his first book!  It was released from Tyndale House Publishers as an e-book on July 1st.

All I have to say is this......Fists in the air, Bruce!

(Inside joke, sorry to all of you who now think I'm a huge dork.)

(But, if you've been reading this blog, then you should probably already know that.)

(Also, we called Russ "Bruce" in college, which was hysterically funny at the time, for reasons I don't remember anymore.)

Anyway, I'm super excited to read his book, and not just because having a friend who's a published author makes me feel famous.  (Although it does.)  Mostly, I'm excited because I know Russ to be an awesome man of God, and I can't wait to see how God speaks to me through his book.

SO....if you have an e-reader (check), have already finished the Hunger Games trilogy (check-and just kidding, you should totally read this before you read the Hunger Games), and want a really great book to get into next, take a look at the summary below, and GO BUY THIS BOOK!

40 Days without Food: Divine Goodness to a Starving Soul
By Russ Masterson

“I had a college degree, and soon a seminary degree to accompany it, yet I didn’t know where to go or what to do.” Russ Masterson had read and heard about purpose, but didn’t have a clue what his own purpose was. And there was emptiness where there should have been value. As he puts it, “I kept hoping a step would arrive when it was time to lift my foot.”


Disillusioned with his life, as well as with God, he heard this advice: fast from food for 40 days. Faithless and frazzled, Russ accepted the challenge, hoping for direction, reflecting on the past, and wrestling with issues like purpose, faith, and love.


In this book, readers will find a fresh literary voice — an insightful thinker who meets people in their humanity while helping them to see they can be rescued from it. The journey of these forty days without food will help you explore what really matters in life
 
Available on the Kindle, Nook, and iPad (via the free Kindle app for iPad). 
http://www.russmasterson.com/

Hashtags and Hail

First of all, can someone please explain this "hashtag" business on twitter?  Mee Maw over here doesn't get it.  At all. 

Hey! Maybe I should tweet about it.  I think it would look like this:

@sherridickens
What in the heck is a hashtag? #confusedandold

Dear Hashtag,

I refuse to use you.  Well, basically I don't know what you are, which makes me feel kinda ancient.  Also, I forget to tweet on a regular basis, so that might have something to do with it. 

Even still, on principle, I refuse. 

Btw, I would consider renaming yourself.  Because "hashtag" sounds like a weird cross between an illegal drug and a nasty skin condition.

Your twitter-challenged friend,
Sherri

On a different note, I realized that I never posted about a freakishly terrifying interesting thing that happened to me back in May. 

(Why is this not surprising?)

Anyway, John and I went to the wedding of some good friends up in North Carolina.  We got up there early Friday afternoon, and decided to meet up with some other friends (Rod and Kristin) for a hike. 

I actually LOVE hiking.  One summer, we even went on a trip to Glacier National Park, and did 10 mile hikes every day....awesome.  So, needless to say, I was pretty excited for an afternoon hike. 

Until I noticed the dark thunderclouds that were nearby. 

Did I mention that I am the ULTIMATE weather worrier?  I'm basically down in our basement the moment a cloud is spotted in the sky, because I'm certain that there's rotation in it.

(Obviously, I am a weather expert.)

(NO.)

Here we are, pre-hike.  Yes, that's me, rocking some sweet spandex, wool socks, and hiking boots.
A winning outfit combo if there ever was one.

As we're hiking up this mountain, I'm keeping one eye on the dark clouds that, OH HEY, are moving closer.  Kristin, , meanwhile, is telling me that, as a PA, she's seen several lighting strike victims in the ER.  And did you know that lightening usually exits your body through your big toe?  Blowing it completely off in many cases. 

Why, no.  No, I did not know that.  Nor did I want to.
At this point, even the boys begin to get slightly worried.  The clouds are directly over us, it's starting to rain, and there are some occasional lightening strikes nearby.  We are also 2-3 miles away from the car, straight up a mountain.   (I may or may not have reached ultimate meltdown mode at this point.)

We turn around, even though there's no way we're getting back before all heck breaks loose. Suddenly, I get jacked in the head by something and realize it's now HAILING.  We half-slide down this muddy hill and take cover under a tree.  Did I mention it's still lightening?  Our sweet husbands literally cover our bodies with theirs, trying to shield us from the hail. 

Let's peek inside my mind at this moment in life, shall we? 

"Dear Lord, we're about to die on this mountain, aren't we!?!  I so didn't want to go out like this, as the idiots that decided to hike during what is obviously a tornado.  Oh my gosh, my big toe is about to get blown off, isn't it?  Because we're totally going to get struck by lightening.  Could you just take me home before that happens?  Wait, did John just start praying out loud?  Okay, that means I'm really not exaggerating and being dramatic.  We're in some serious trouble here."

There was a little more praying and begging for safety involved, but I can honestly say, it was one of the scariest moments of my life.  The storm finally stopped, and we made it back down the mountain, covered in mud, leaves, and hail bruises.......but so thankful for God's protection.

And for the fact that I still had my big toes, of course.

And here we are post-hike.  Notice the mud, leaves, and sopping wet clothes.
Please do NOT notice the weird finger-puppetness of my right hand.

Embarrassing

The other day, I made the super-wise decision to go running.  At 2:00 in the afternoon. 

When it was ninety-four degrees outside.

Clearly, I'm a genius.

You know those guys at the gym who get really sweaty, the kind where the sweat has basically soaked their entire outfit?  Well, multiply that times 5, and THAT is how much I sweat.

(Attractive.  I know.)

Also, somehow I actually sweat from my sinuses.  Yes.  Kind of like dogs sweat from their tongues.  I'm sure there is a logical, medical reason for this.

Or not.

Anyway, I finished my run, and noticed that my new neighbor was out planting flowers around her mailbox. I decide to go say hi, because I've decided that we should clearly be friends.

John comes out halfway through our conversation to say hey, and I notice he keeps looking at me funny.  I decide it's nothing, until we're walking back toward our house, and John is all, "hey.....don't freak out or anything.....but you have a huge booger in your right nostril."

Dear Husband,

First of all, thank you for prefacing with a "don't freak out."  You obviously know me so well.  Because I almost punched you right there on our front lawn for not telling me, you know, when it might've been convenient.  Like, say, while I was chatting up a storm with a booger DANGLING FROM MY NOSE.  I'm pretty sure our marital contract includes stipulations about telling each other when we have food stuck in our teeth, bad breath, and especially embarrassing booger situations!  What's that?  You didn't read that part? 

Clearly.

You are SO on your own next time you have broccoli in your teeth.

Love,

Your very sweaty wife, who, ironically, is very particular about having clear nostrils at all times, and who now has yet another embarrassing story to tell.  Let's just add it to the accidental flashing of your co-workers, the accidental flashing of my entire freshman dorm, and what I like to call "the communion incident." 

Vacation....by the Numbers

Well, I'm sure you will all be just shocked to know that I've been on vacation.  Because I'm nothing if not super-crafty when it comes to letting people (and by "people" I mean "Internet creepers") know that I'm away from home. 

Or, perhaps a two-plus week silence could actually indicate that I'm away from home?

(On the other hand, it could also indicate that I'm too lazy to be a real blogger.)

We just got back from a family vacation to Eleuthera, one of the more remote islands in the Bahamas.  It. was. awesome.  Since Internet and phone service isn't great (and by "not great," I mean, "will cost you about a billion dollars per use"), I wasn't able to blog while I was away. 

(As if that would've happened anyway. Let's be honest.)

SO, here's our vacation, by the numbers:

Bahamian island with some of the prettiest beaches I've ever seen.: ONE

Number of episodes of American Idol watched at local restaurant Ship to Shore:  TWO

Previously watched episodes of American Idol by Sherri in life:  ZERO

Times John and I danced in a public restaurant:  SEVERAL

Number of restaurant patrons, other than our family, during said dancing:  ZERO  (thankfully)

Crazy van photos:  Approximately 42

Times Sherri finger-pointed and made weird faces during van photos:  TOO MANY

Books stored on my kindle prior to the trip:  About 37

John's level of unhappiness over the bill from amazon prior to the trip:  HIGH (there may not even be a number to describe it)

Scooter rides:  TWO

Bugs that flew in my MOUTH and STUNG ME during said scooter rides:  ONE (and it was one too many, thankyouverymuch)

Maxi-dresses worn (by me, not John.  Thank goodness):  MANY

It was a fantastic vacation.....despite missing AG like CRAZY.  And despite crying every night after skyping with her. And despite the fact that I get seasick if I even so much as float in the ocean, which basically prevents me from any and all water sports. 

By the way, did I mention what Eleuthera is known for?  Water sports. 

But there's always my kindle.  Right, John?

Clearly.

A List For Your Thursday. Except It Is Now Monday.

Hi blog-friends….we had a rough week last week! My little presh has been sick, so I’m hoping you’ll cut me some slack, since blogging with a sick baby= so. not. happening.


(Or, maybe just because you know how things work around here.)

(Which makes me love you even more than I already do.)


In light of last week’s experiences, I’ve come up with a highly educational and informative list for you. Please feel free to thank me later. (Or now. Whichever you prefer.)

TOP SIGNS YOUR CHILD IS SICK

1. She will magically decide to take a nap. Last Tuesday, AG’s teachers at school were all, “We think something’s wrong with her.” And I was like, “Why? What did she do?! DID SHE BITE SOMEONE?” And then they were all, “Um, no, but she actually took a nap today.”

(Apparently she believes that naptime rules don’t apply to her.)

(I have no idea where she gets such a blatant disregard for the rules.)


2. She will constantly cling to you in a death grip, koala-bear style. Which makes it kinda difficult to open a medicine bottle. Or go to the doctor’s office. Or go to the bathroom.  Ahem.


3. She will literally refuse to play with anything. Even your iPhone. Even when you place it enticingly just out of reach, as a super scientific test to see if you can get her to move.

I almost took her to the ER right then and there, except I was afraid of a scenario like this:

Nurse: Tell me what’s wrong with your baby.


Me: Um, well, she didn’t want to play with my iPhone….


Nurse: Get out.


4. She will sit perfectly still, for THREE SOLID HOURS, while you watch Hellcats, Pregnant in Heels, and Bethenny Ever After. And when you get worried, and hypothetically try to tempt her with some brownies, she will not budge.

I almost took her to the ER right then and there, except I was afraid of a scenario like this:

Nurse: You again? What now?


Me: Um , well, she didn’t want to eat brownies with me while we were watching tv….


Nurse: I’m calling security.


5. Conveniently, your husband will be out of town. Upon his return, your child will magically begin running around like an adorable tornado of energy, with that awful popping toy that makes your ears bleed.

(Btw, he will not believe you when you tell him how hard it was, how stressed out you were, and how you clearly deserve a spa day for Mother’s day.)

(And he may or may not seem to find pleasure in repeatedly saying obnoxious things like, “oh, she just needed her daddy!”)

Obviously.

How pitiful is this face?

Also, is it wrong that I took pictures?

Also, don’t answer that.

Problem Hair

I have what's called "problem" hair.  Some of you may know what I'm talking about....hair that can't decide if it wants to be straight or curly, so it ends up being frizzy/wavy as a result? 

Good times.

Recently though, I tried my first Keratin Express straightening treatment.  And it was glorious.  (Well, you know, as glorious as hair can be.)

Let me list the ways....

1.  It was cheap (Yes.  Really.  Less than what I spend in a trip to Target.  Which actually might not be saying much, now that I think about it.)
2.  I could wash my hair after 24 hours (apparently, the non-express version of the treatment calls for 72 hours of unwashed, hanging in your face, kind of hair.  Um. no.)
3.  It made me pretty much love my hair for 6 weeks. 
And then it wore out.  And then I was sad.  And THEN I called the salon to schedule another treatment. 

(Because those of y'all in the South know that we're entering the "HOLY HECK, IT'S ABOUT A THOUSAND DEGREES AND 100% HUMIDITY OUT HERE" season.  Which the rest of y'all call "summer."  Which does bad, bad things to frizzy hair.)

And THEN I HEARD THIS.....

Receptionist: (Perkily) Hello, this is ______ Salon!

Me:  Hi, I"m calling to schedule another keratin express treatment.

Receptionist:  Oh, we don't do those anymore.

Me:  (Panicking) What? Why?!  YOU WERE MY ONLY HOPE FOR FRIZZ-FREE HAIR!

Receptionist:  Oh, um, just because of the formaldehyde.  And, you know, the whole "causing cancer" thing. 

Right.  Just that small thing. 

Super.

Proud

So, I'm taking a brief departure from all things sarcastic and non-serious today.

(I know.  It's weird for me too.)

But I just want to say how proud I am to be an American, and how incredibly thankful I am for all of the men & women of the military, who risk their lives to protect and defend our country. 

You are awesome, and we are hugely in your debt.  THANK YOU.

And in case you're wondering, I was already asleep last night when President Obama addressed the nation. (Apparently, I am old.)  But don't think John didn't come in and wake me up to tell me all about it.  And don't think I wasn't so keyed up that I couldn't go back to sleep for THREE HOURS after that.

Good times.  (And, HELLO, sarcasm...we're back!)