Perhaps someday, they will find a cure! (Part 2)

1 week from today, I will be on a plane from California. I will have sung “Happy Birthday” (Marilyn Monroe-style) to Corey. I will have served as Tiffany’s wake-up call after a couple of long nights discussing…things. I will have judged a total of 24 hours and made comments like “some good ideas” and “higher releve” and “work that turn sequence”. I will have participated in karaoke. I will have shopped for candy for the judges’ table. I will have over-indulged in sushi, “In And Out Burger”, margaritas and boxed wine. I will have rocked a couple of new ‘judging’ outfits, including shoes that are not meant to be walked in for long periods of time. I will have chanted “Hyphie 4 Lyphie… I’ma be yo’ wifey!” at LEAST a dozen times. I will have posed for “senior photos” (perhaps again in the parking lot). I will have NOT gotten lost in L.A. again. I will have laughed way too much.

And… I will have been in contact with… my Kryptonite.

I was not made aware of his presence until a couple of weeks ago. I ASSUMED he wouldn’t be there this year, since he WAS there last year, but…

Just as I do with preparation for ANY trip, I have compiled a checklist… in addition to my packing list (Note to self: Remember, “Lady Eloise”), I have a new type of checklist…

Kryptonite Do’s & Don’t’s:

DO
Say “hello” when I see him.
DON’T
Pounce on him like a rabid spider monkey, with ADD, who hasn’t eaten in 4 days.

DO
Smile brightly when he compliments me (as he always does).
DON’T
Lick his face like he’s the last pop sickle in the middle of August.

DO
Chat with him, while having dinner.
DON’T
“Accidentally” drop my napkin and “disappear” underneath the table.

DO
Give a flirty wink when he walks past.
DON’T
Give him my hotel room key. Tiffany wouldn’t dig it… Perhaps COREY and I should room together…

DO
Keep a level head when he touches the small of my back (which he ALWAYS does).
DON’T
Immediately lay on the floor, on my hands and knees.

DO
Blog about what did actually occur.
DON’T
END UP IN JAIL FOR KIDNAPPING! *fingers (and legs) crossed*

A Funny Thing Happened While Brushing My Teeth

It was a typical weekday morning. My alarm went off at 6:45am. I hit snooze about 3 times. I headed straight to the guest bathroom (which is where I do my hair) switched on my curling iron and proceeded to the kitchen. That’s where I iron. I turned it on and, while still in that morning haze, made my way to the master bath.

It was while I was brushing my teeth, hunched over the face basin, with one eye open, that I noticed something different about my nose. It was the same shape, same size, definitely the same color… BUT… there were freckles… Yes, freckles. On the bridge of the nose I inherited from my father, were an array of dark brown spots. Huh?!?!?!

After a few moments of searching for more of these newcomers, I continued to prepare to leave for the office. Once I arrived, I got settled in, checked my emails and called my mother. I told her what I had found. She could not believe I hadn’t noticed them before.

She said I’d had freckles since college, probably due to all of those days on the sidelines of football games, working YMCA camps, teaching dance and cheer camps…and so on. Huh?!?!?!

How is it that I have missed such a prominent characteristic, for so many years?

Later that day, while enjoying “Soupman” at Northpark Center and texting a friend in Florida (about dating), a question was posed. “What type of man do you want to be with?” I had a moment of clarity. An “Aha Moment” as Oprah refers to it.

Physical characteristics aside, I want to be with a man who knows that when I am not making eye contact, it’s because I think he’s beautiful. A man who knows that when I cover my mouth with my fingers, it’s because I'm holding back. A man who notices the beauty mark below my chin and on the inside arch of my foot. A man who knows that when I hum while chewing gum, it’s because I’m nervous. A man who notices that when I tap my foot, tears will soon follow. A man who notices that my brown eyes become a bit more amber during the summer months. A man who notices the tiny scar on the inside of my wrist. A man who knows that I'm not really the handful I portray myself to be. He knows when I'm hiding. He knows when I feel unsafe. He has memorized all of my secret tickle spots.

He knows that even when I'm running wild, there is still a sense of calm...because he sees me... REALLY sees me...

He notices the little things... the details... like the freckles on my nose.