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I just finished writing one of those off the top of my head emails to a friend about choices and consequences. My own words have me thinking now.

Just because you’re in the middle of a very different situation than what you based your decision on doesn’t change your original decision.

This haunts me. How many times have I made a choice only to have the situation change or morph into something I never expected? Or berated myself for not being omniscient enough to see the future? Or let someone else make me feel scatterbrained or fickle when I wanted to back out of something I clearly didn’t want in the first place?

The sad truth is far too many times.

We make choices based on the information before us. Sometimes it’s factual. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it changes when someone else changes their mind. But that still doesn’t change the truth alive in me. That doesn’t change the drive I feel in my spirit or the passions in my soul.

Learning to see myself…to accept myself…has been a freeing process. As I unearth the layers of my being, I’m finding the core on which I stand. And you know what? It’s not exactly made of the shifting sand I’ve felt on the surface.

Who would have thought?

My sister and I hosted a baby shower for our sister-in-law today. It was one of those deals that dominated our daily drive-home-from-work-calls for the last 6 weeks. Then we scratched all our plans last week and ended up sprint shopping this morning and were still putting the finishing touches on everything as the first guests arrived.
 
The shower was beautiful, and we all had a great time decorating the pages for the baby book, chillin’ with some Jack Johnson, and munching on the most amazing rolls my mouth has ever tasted. My brilliant idea for the day was something I call the “paciflower”. I put these together last night, and we used them as center pieces for the tables.
 
Aren’t they adorable?
 
I’m totally exhausted now since I’ve been up since 5:30 and have driven a total of 6 hours today and had to drive over more bridges than I care to count. Last summer I developed a bridge phobia. My heart pounds as I go over any bridge. My mind races with thoughts like, “Will I have enough time to roll down the window if the car goes over the edge?” or “Which shore will be the easiest to swim to?”

That’s no joke, even though EVERYONE around me laughs when they hear about this.

I discovered this afternoon that my brother’s house is only 2 1/2 hours away from mine if I take I-275. This means driving over the Sunshine Skyway Bridge. And yes, my heart pounded at the mere thought of crossing Tampa Bay, but I did it. Sweaty palms and all.

 

The picture of the bridge is a bit fuzzy because I took while driving. Yep, this bridge-a-phobic basket case took pictures while DRIVING across a bridge that replaced one that collapsed 30 years ago.

 

Who knows what I’ll conquer next. Maybe finally getting a handle on the growing pile of junk-mail-to-shred?

A few years ago I discovered Burberry Brit on the counter at Dillards. I was instantly in love with the woody scent, but for some reason, I didn’t buy it. I’ve thought about it since then, but by the time I actually wanted to buy it for my sweetie, I couldn’t remember the name.

I finally bought it this weekend and couldn’t contain my enthusiasm when I asked my dear sweet manly husband to close his eyes and hold out his hands. He rolled them at me and smirked. That reaction shot flames out my ears and I waved him off with a, “I don’t even want to deal with you right now.”

Moments later I was apologizing for snapping and embarrassing him. I gave him the cologne. He immediately said something about how he much he wouldn’t get a chance to wear it, and it was all over.

He licked his wounds. I was deflated.

The next night, I crawled into bed and leaned over to kiss him goodnight. I couldn’t help but notice the scent of cologne along the base of his neck. Nor could I miss the smile that stretched across his face. Sure enough, it was the perfect scent for him.

And in that moment I felt like the queen of the world.

My dearest friend, Nadia, and I went to the beach yesterday. It’s a delightful little gem about 30 minutes away from my house with squeaky-white sand and countless shells. We’ve been beach partners throughout our friendship, so this was a fun way to spend the last day of our weekend together.

We chose our spot and set up. Nadia opened her beach chair with 2 clicks, tossed her towel on top, and slapped on another layer of SPF 30 sunscreen. She had this all done before I had even unwrapped my umbrella. She’s such a beach pro. We’re such beach opposites, but we’re both drawn to the lure of the ocean.

My favorite moment of the day was when I saw Nadia’s eyes open and a smile crease her face as she looked over at me. What a pair we were. She stretched out on her chair with her swimsuit positioned just right so the sun would paint all the right places. I was wrapped in a blanket sized beach towel under an umbrella still wearing my hat and sunglasses.

Yeah, I’m a real beach hottie.