... it's therapeutic to meet up with people from high school.

Facebook... or Spacebook... or Myface - It's the new devil's playground.

HOWEVER - Since I've created my facebook page, I've been "reconnecting" with people from (of all places) high school. And "revisiting" feelings I've never wanted to think about again. I didn't get teased (to my face) but I wasn't a part of any clique either. I was a little too boy crazy and allowed that to dictate my years as a Holmes Husky being friends with their friends. For the most part, the kids in my class were only aware of me as another student in English or History or Biology to my knowledge.

So you could probably guess my surprise at being remembered AT ALL. And actually remembered fondly!!! The old wounds from being in the shadows of almost every group (except for the athletic girls - I was so clumsy then I didn't dare to go near them) were self-inflicted & self-imagined!! I've come to discover my high school isolation was all my own doing and in my more mature state have been asked to socials with the greatest mix of people.

I'm thankful for this cleansing... the brushing away of old thoughts and self-doubt. Hurray for me!!!

... prevention is sadistic torture in disguise.

Annual "Well Woman" exams are a necessary evil.

For me, this year (my 36th year) turned out to be especially sadistic. Aside from the plain ol' regularly intrusive exam (Hey, doc!! What's going on down there?!), I had the extra added pleasure of my very first mammogram. Apparently, this is the super-fantastic, jack-in-the-box prize for making it into the second round of womanhood (I'm scared to find out what the finalist win).

In my tra-la-la innocence, I made my way to the 2nd floor and was able to get "worked into" the scheduled appointments. "Great!" was my response... (insert stiffled giggle here) The radiology tech hid her devil horns well but her ice cold hands gave away her true intent... my discomfort. At the end - with glazed over eyes - I mentioned how much more painful it actually was than I expected, she said, "The suggested psi is 40 and you were barely at 23." Really... I swear I left that office with a word bubble over my head that said "Big Baby."

So... if the test comes back clear, I am good for another 3 1/2 years. Fingers crossed...

... you should know more about your hometown.

My husband has been trying to convince me to see the Missions of San Antonio since we met. He, a Californian, has been 5 times in the short time he's lived in Texas and aside from the Alamo, I, a San Antonian, have never been. It's shameful, really.


I've been to the Grand Canyon, White Sands, the Petrified Forest... some fantastic national parks... but never the national parks in my own hometown.


I attribute this oversight to the fear I have about that area of town - and that it would be equivalent to attending church. It was not. Don't get me wrong... the churches at Mission San Jose and Mission Concepcion were really beautiful. And, I couldn't help but cross myself when I went in past the pews to the altar. But it was actually very much like all the other national parks. It was clean and adventurous and HISTORICAL.

I'm glad we went. I look forward to going again... soon.

(ps. I took the date/time stamp off for future pictures!)