Miles and Miles and Finally Smiles

So I spent the last year and three weeks hiding my smile.  I did it in some extremely clever ways.

There was the old "wedge your face against a kid's head" trick...

...the smug, phony half-smile...

...the "tilt my head just perfectly when the camera comes out" smile...

... and the not-at-all obvious "cover half my face with my hand" smile. Subtlety, I have mastered it.

So anyway, after 55 weeks and four surgeries and three months of not chewing, including a Christmas of only eating mashed potatoes and whipped cream, my smile is finally back.

What a relief!

Fashion Plate

Remember when my friend Kate decided to depend on me for fashion and shoe advice when we room together for our upcoming trip to BlogHer in New York City?

I'm wondering how panicked she is right now.  Please note the Crocs, non-matching purse, and the hair that has not been brushed in six days.  I am going to shake up the town at BlogHer, let me tell you.

In my defense, I am wearing plastic knock-off Crocs purchased hastily at Walgreen's in Florida because I got eleven blisters on my feet wearing new shoes the day before.  One of them got infected and was nasty.  I'd like credit for not posting pictures of that.  SEE, MOM, I DO HAVE FILTERS.

The hair and the purse I have no excuse for, other than when I go on vacation I go on VACATION.  I didn't shave or brush my hair for the entire trip and I wore the same dress three days in a row.  Just in case one of my oral surgeons are reading this (and I should really just bang my head against a brick wall for having multiple oral surgeons, but I'm sure that would damage even more of my teeth) I did brush my teeth and wear deodorant.  A lady has to have standards, after all.  No comment on how often I changed my underpants.

So, Kate my buddy, are you sure you want to room with me?  There's still time to fake a kidney stone!

Thirty Minutes in the Happiest Place on Earth

Do you guys want to see my picture from Disney World?  Yes, I did say picture, as in singular.

 

Don't we both look so happy as we stand outside the home of Cinderella?  And my beautiful goddaughter Jamie doesn't look at all close to death, does she?  It's amazing what can change in just twenty minutes.

Minutes after exiting the lovely parking lot ferry boat, Jamie started acting funny.  She said that her head hurt and her stomach felt weird.  Because I am compassionate and not at all selfish, I lovingly said, "You'll be fine.  Come on, the Haunted Mansion is over there and it was my favorite ride when I was ten."  Hello, Peace Prize Committee, you have a real humanitarian on your hands here.

While we were in line, Jamie again said her head hurt.  As we gazed out at the tombstones surrounding the waiting area, a thought occurred to me.  "Hey Jame, when was the last time you drank anything?"  Answer:  milk, at breakfast, six hours earlier.  It was 95 degrees, a billion percent humidity and we are fair skinned Midwestern people who wear SPF 8000.  So yeah, not good.

The best part was that I forced Jamie to stand in line and get on the ride before allowing her to sit down and drink water and not, oh, I don't know, die of heatstroke.  

After the Haunted Mansion, where Jamie saw ghosts that were both Disney-created and near-death-experience created, we sat in the shade and drank water, but Jamie still felt terrible, so we boarded the monorail and headed back to the parking lot.  So yeah, less than an hour in Disney World, one ride.  We did get Dole Whips, though, so I am considering the price of admission absolutely worth it.

Oh, and Jamie ended up being fine after two days in the hospital intensive care ward.  Kidding, kidding.  Several bottles of water, an ibuprofen or two and a couple of hours in air conditioning cleared that pesky heat stroke right up.