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.