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Stuff I Meant to Blog (Part 1)

In a search for my passport last week I found my high school diary. Maybe for a laugh, one day I'll post some of its painfully cringe-worthy contents. Like the time I had a crush on a boy at church camp. He was from Mexico, had the most beautiful air-brushed olive skin, square shoulders, abs, hair that curled perfectly around his neck after he'd been swimming. That's what I remember. I also remember that I never had a single conversation with him. Yet my 15 year old self wrote that "the thing I was most attracted to was his *heart* for the Lord." I wrote it with stars and emphasis around ***HEART***. ..Beat, beat beat. ...Umm... yeah. I was pretty good at drinking my own Kool-aid. Maybe we all are in one way or another. But LORD if you're ever afraid your ego will get out of control, open up something you wrote between the ages of 12 and 18. 

It's a mystery to me as to how I had friends, or was remotely functional at that age. And I'm glad I found it because now I have a reference in case one day my kids are equally embarrassing.

I'm also glad because it was a reminder of how bad my memory is. I think I've forgotten most of my life. And I know a lot of people say that. But there are times when I truly get anxiety writing checks because I have to think about what year it is. I forget so much of movies that if a month goes by, it's like watching it for the first time. If it weren't for pictures, I'd be my own version of Groundhog Day. And it was this that made me want to start blogging again. Even if is is just for something cringe-worthy to read in the nursing home one day. 

So in order of what downloaded first on my card reader, a few things that have happened since Easter. 

Remember Fluffy? Here she is, a little bigger, slightly angrier-looking, and oddly cropped so you wouldn't have to see the mountains of bird shit that covered her nest and my door. 

In a natural process of leaving desperate attempt to escape her crap-nest, she dove out heroically, but snagged her foot. I found her dangling, panting heavily and hanging by a thread (literally). Somewhere in my mostly forgotten life, I remembered that if you touch a bird, its mom will abandon it. So I ran to get Jason the gloved superhero.

He tried to save her, but it was too late. The threat of falling to her death was too much. Fluffy had a heart attack (we think) and left us for the great non-crap-covered door nest in the sky.  

The kids naturally freaked out. But as you might remember with the untimely passing of Dora Megan the Hermit Crab, many griefs in this world can be soothed by making up a long ritual involving crafts and sharpie pens. 

Check back soon for more out-dated, indulgent stories about my life. I'm on a roll. Either that, or Jason is traveling and I am bored enough to finally edit all these pictures. 

Oh! one more (unrelated) thing, if you don't follow Epiphanie on facebook or twitter, you should. We're announcing something big this week! You can also find out by signing up to be on our mailing list. :)

Have a good weekend!

Reader Comments (3)

*his heart for the Lord* . . . .


I am quite sure I have that very same journal entry somewhere, about I boy I'd never spoken to. So funny.
June 10, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterkristen howerton
I am ROLLING with TEARS rolling down my face, laughing and really did GASP when I saw the picture of Jason digging the hole before I read the words! Miss you!
June 10, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMegan Brown
So there's some people that have actually made a show about reading from your childhood diaries - appropriately named "Mortified". It's always changing because it's just people who volunteer to read their journals - I mean, they help them figure out what to read and work on presentation, but everything is authentically from someone's childhood journals. It.Is. Hysterical.

There isn't one in SA, but there's a chapter in the ATX so if you ever happen to be up here when they are doing one (August 9 & 10 are the next dates), you should come watch. Or if you are brave, you can volunteer to perform.
July 19, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterBethlin

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