Summer Thunderstorms

I have been obsessed with weather since the day I proudly turned in the great Weather Project of 1987, no doubt sporting a rats-nest side pony tail and my snazzy blue Esprit outfit, proud of my awesome work nonetheless. For years I thought the coolest job in the universe was a storm chaser and I wanted to be one when I grew up, until I took meteorology in college and realized a WHOLE lot more is required than simply jumping behind the wheel of a tricked out storm chasing machine and outrunning twisters - like science, and equations, and measuring wind speeds. I still think it's the coolest job in the universe. For the record, I also wanted to be a psychiatrist, anthropologist, novelist, and journalist and pursed a few courses in those subjects as well. (hmmmm...I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up and I'm 29.) I digress.

I'm as giddy as that side ponytail, Esprit sporting 2nd grader during a summer storm and tonight I put my new camera to work as the beautiful thunderclouds rolled in. I even did some storm chasing!

May God give you...

For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
Irish Wedding Blessing

Perfect

Survey time, my favorite!

The perfect outfit: Wide leg pants, gorgeous tailored blouse, high-heeled sandals, pearls and gigantic sunglasses, set off with a fabulously enormous handbag. Fat or skinny, tall or short - you'll look spectacular and polished and what's better than that? (Okay, well, being tall AND skinny would be better. Whatever.)

The perfect meal: I've recently done a serious overhaulin' on my health, meaning processed foods at a minimum, fruit and veggies out the wazoo, lean protein and exercise galore, which has given me willpower of steel. BUT, if I were to cheat and devour a delicious meal of yonder without a stitch of guilt, I'd start with a huge wedge salad with hot bread and olive oil, a man-sized slab of cheesy lasagna, and a migraine inducing chocolate dessert with a horrifying amount of fat and calories. Mmmmmmm!

The perfect hangover cure: Don't drink too much?

The perfect road trip: Sid and I are King and Queen of Roadtrips (yes, Roadtrips is capitalized because it is an official title). If I can only choose one, I'll pick Colorado/Utah, 2007, cruising in my Jeep, piles of junk food within reach, top off (the Jeep, pervs), roadtrip tunes blaring (think The Eagles, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash), laughing so hard it hurts, shortcuts that turn into 4 hour detours, and soaking in the wonders of God's creation. Perfect.

The perfect facial feature: Smile, hands down. Sid has enormous gorgeous blue eyes, but the first thing I fell in love with was his smile.

The perfect drink: Sweet iced tea on a hot summer day. A refreshing Southern staple.

The perfect song: Peaceful Easy Feeling - The Eagles.

The perfect sign of affection: There is something ancient and beautiful about holding hands.

The perfect afternoon: Sitting on a desolate beach eating a lobster roll in the company of a loney seagull.

The perfect vacation: Is there such a thing as an imperfect vacation? I think not.

The perfect invention: Spanx, laptops and DVR.

The perfect type of wedding: Great friends, fabulous food, spectacular cake, beautiful location.

The perfect album: Dixie Chicks - Wide Open Spaces; The Eagles - Very Best Of. Of course, all music answers are subject to change at my whim!

The perfect accent: British. Duh!

The perfect date: Is there anything better than a Broadway musical and a fabulous dinner?

The perfect weather: How can I possibly chose between a Spring thunderstorm, raging blizzard, the first Autumn cold front, and an 70 degree summer afternoon?

The perfect party: On a yatcht with rich people.

The perfect sport: Tennis, duh! It's classy, it's a ball (get it - a "ball?") and it gives you gorgeous arms and legs.

The perfect thing to say: You are so beautiful, to me. Can't you see? You're everything I hoped for and everything I need. You are so beautiful to me.

The perfect day of the week: Thursday, because it's all downhill from there. You got your Must See TV and Friday, Saturday and Sunday on the horizon.

Spa, Sushi, Shopping - the Three Greatest S-words

Our tri-birthday celebration begins with shopping in Legacy and a scrumptious dinner at one of my favorite restaurants - Nicolas. After squeezing in a few more shops, we head to the hotel, change into pajamas (or pa-JAM-as, if you're Stacey), and giggle, watch Golden Girls, and sleep. Well, I TRIED to sleep but sleep didn't come. No problem - I'll just be that more relaxed after our Saturday at the spa!

My first trip to the spa was magnificent. After slipping into a fabulous cashmere robe, we're escorted to the relaxation room - dim lights, scented candles and... "Oh, ma'am? I'm not getting a pedicure. What? You mean you soak EVERYBODY'S feet in this heavenly water? Carry on, dear spa lady. Carry on."

Ten minutes later, feet happy and clean, I'm escorted to the facial room where I'm told to change into the softest towel wrap in the history of the universe and then lay down on the bed under the covers. I'm sorry, did you say bed? And covers? I pictured a dentist's chair, not a soft heated bed complete with luxury comforter. After a brief consultation ("um, I don't really have a skin care regimen. I wash my face once or twice a day and exfoliate now and then. Blackheads? I don't THINK so but who knows?") Shelly (a.k.a: my new best friend) goes to work on my face and I am transported to some other universe where each day begins with a foot soak and hot tea. Paradise is briefly interrupted when Shelly places cool cucumbers on my eyes and then turns on the unforgiving lamp to inspect my pores. "Oh dear! You have quite a few blackheads, sweetheart, and this is the only part of the facial that is less than wonderful - extraction." Five minutes later and I'm blackhead free and floating back to the happy place as Shelly works her magic on my skin. My favorite classical piece starts playing over the speakers and for five minutes I can't remember my own name as my shoulders, arms and hands are being massaged while Adagio for Strings streams into my ears. After an hour, my facial is complete and my skin has NEVER looked or felt better. This is the life.

Next step, aromatherapy body wrap. I strip down, lay my happy self on the water gel bed and have my skin exfoliated head to toe with a scented sugar scrub. After a quick rinse in the shower, I'm lathered with a warm algae solution and then hot oil is massaged into my hair and scalp. Next I'm wrapped up and covered with heavy heated blankets. No problem...until Kathleen the body specialist leaves the room...and my upper arm starts burning. My thoughts become a jumbled mess and my hearts begins to race. "Hmmm. I wonder why my arm is burning? Am I allergic to algea? Is my whole body going to start burning? Am I on fire? Oooooh, geez. I can't move. I CAN'T MOVE! Oh wait. I CAN move. Calm down, psycho. If you have to, you could break free from this freaking burrito wrap. You aren't trapped. Why is she taking so long? Will she ever return? Has the spa been overtaken by crazed gunman and I'm the lone survivor? How can I defend myself if I'm bound by plastic wrap? Oh crap - now my hip is burning. Holy mother of pearl, hurry up before I burn to death!" Kathleen returns in one piece and I play it totally cool, "Oh, yes. The time alone was marvelous. Very relaxing!" She finally unwraps me and leaves me to shower in peace as I frantically search my body for burn marks, where I find a few but nothing life the giant gaping holes I imagined. Hmmm. Maybe this treatmendt needs a warning for claustrophobic lunatics.

I join Susie and Stacey and we end the day together with sushi and shopping - the greatest combination known to woman. Today, I await the dreaded 29th birthday that creeps as quietly as a crazed elephant to my doorstep in 5 days. At least I look fabulous after my day at the spa!

4 Things On My Mind Right This Very Moment

1. I hate Dell. I replaced my beloved Toshiba over a year ago and I've despised her replacement ever since. The Toshiba could likely be repaired, very expensively, and I vow to look into the prospect because she was faithful to me, right up until the day I cracked her screen. My Dell has failed me in so, so many ways. The disk drive stopped working after a few weeks, the SD card reader failed a couple of months ago, the hinge cracked, I couldn't access the internet for weeks which spurred the Great Starbucks Obsession of 2008 (because I could access their network for some bizarre reason no one could ever explain). So two days ago, I'm signing on to Napster and Dell from Hell locks up. Hmmm. And for weeks, Dell from Hell was operating VERY slowly. After the lockup, he wouldn't even boot up because he's a stubborn piece of crap. After a suggestion from Paul the Genius, we pulled the memory from my Toshiba, inserted it into the Dell and viola - Dell from Hell is working. So add "failed memory" to the list of why I hate my Dell.

2. I'm going to the spa...for the first time...ever! Sure, I've had manis and pedis but never the real deal, pamper me crazy, wear a luxurious robe while sipping cucumber water kind of spa day. The best part? My girlfriends and I will begin our tri-birthday celebration the night before (tomorrow) with dinner at Legacy Center and a night of giggling in the Legacy Marriott. So here's my spa plan:

Aromatherapy Wrap: Unwind, rejuvenate and soothe your senses with this luxurious treatment. After a thorough exfoliation of the skin, we envelope your body with a warm, aromatic body crème and allow the active ingredients to penetrate the skin. Exclusive blends of essential oils are used to create harmony between body, mind and spirit. You will also receive an out-of-this-world head and scalp massage.

Oxygen facial: Carefully selected organically derived alpha and beta hydroxy acids, combined with antioxidants such as vitamins, A, C and E help eliminate dead skin cells and promote the energy and tonicity of healthy skin. This is an ideal facial to brighten fatigued complexions.

Two and a half hours of pure pampering bliss. Um, yes please!

3. Have I mentioned I'm going to Alaska? I have? Well, let me mention it again - I'm going to Alaska! Not only am I going to Alaska, I get to visit Vancouver, too - a city in a province I've always longed to explore. In 3 weeks, I'll either be sitting on my balcony ON THE BACK OF THE SHIP sipping coffee and gazing upon our nation's most stunning landscape, laughing hysterically with some of my favorite people on the planet, hiking around a gorgeous lake praying a bear doesn't eat me for lunch, watching whales play on a our private tour, driving the Yukon highway, shopping in a quaint Alaskan town, exploring old mines, or dozing into the kind of sleep you only experience on a ship.....paradise. Only THREE more weeks!

4. I'm turning 29 next week. TWENTY NINE. I'm not sure where teenage Leigh expected herself to be at 29, but I'm pretty sure it involved really lofty dreams, like running a successful corporation, juggling three kids and an impossible schedule, social clubs, networking. I'm SO not the woman in that scenario but you know what? Thank God! That woman is so busy she never has time to soak in a bubble bath for an hour with a great book, I guarantee that if you invited her on an Alaskan cruise she'd scoff and then patronizingly lecture you about the importance of her career, and I bet she's so darn overwhelmed she rarely stops to soak up the miracle that is her family. I'm happy where I am at 29. I love my life, adore my husband, thank God for my friends, and pray for my future children (yes Mom, I WILL have children - God willing). All that said, turning 29 stinks.

Happy Must See TV Night, guys! If you don't watch 30 Rock and The Office, phooey on you.

My Humid Happenings

After a trip to Houston for the OTC, Sid is spending two nights with his folks and won't be home until Saturday, and after a fabulous visit, Mom headed back home this morning. Boo hoo hoo! My house is empty and sad and smelly. Yes, smelly. All the rain combined with this unusual heat and humidity has intensified the nagging musty smell around our front door and stairs. When Sid returns, it's time to grab the giant magnifiying glass, throw on the trench coat, and solve The Case of the Musty Staircase. Maybe this will force Sid to complete our staircase makeover - goodbye carpet, hello hardwood and for the love of all that is holy, can we get a new banister up in here? 1985 called and they want theirs back.

After eating a healthy but carb filled veggie and pasta dinner, I threw on the Nikes and went for a long walk to burn it all off. And not just any walk, the hills-from-hell-walk. While I've had some major detours on this health makeover adventure (like gaining back almost 10 pounds of the 30 I'd lost), I smile when I blaze up and down those hills now, because those hills wanted me dead not so long ago. Now I am the Mayor of those hills. I OWN them. They tremble when I walk by. Wait a minute - I HEARD that fat joke in your head! Oh and by the way, 4 more pounds and I'll officially be back at the 30 pounds mark and these workout pants won't last much longer before I need a smaller size. Go me!

Speaking of walking, what is going on with this North Texas weather? This IS May, right? I can walk in the darkness of a hot AUGUST night and still feel the kiss of a cool summer breeze (on those nights, I can close my eyes and I'm walking towards my beloved fishing spot on the bay - the long pier where I spent hours as a teenager, catching a few fish but a LOT of laughs, snapshots of silly summer romance, family and childhood friendships and later sharing that spot with my soul mate- funny how a simple summer breeze can be filled with SO much) It was so humid and still this evening that I could see the heaviness hanging miserably in the air and if I'd closed my eyes to find a happy place, all I would've seen are the depths of hell. Please let this just be one of those weather flukes and not an omen of the summer to come. Even Dixie has lost her mind. When I let her in from the back door, right before her front paw hit the kitchen tile, she swooped her head down to the ground without pausing in her stride, inhaled a June bug like a trained assassin and strutted her little self to the living room where she finished her "dessert." Sigh.

Weekend Recap

Note to Stacey - I WILL use your blog ideas eventually, I just haven't had time to blog!

Don't you just love weekends? Sleeping in on Saturday (especially after taking one Benadryl Friday night - I slept like a LOG. Hmmm. How DOES a log sleep? Stupid expression.) Mom arrived Saturday afternoon as furious thunderstorms swept through the area. Sid and I love our severe weather. From the gameroom window on the second floor, you can see for miles and I can't count how many nights we've pulled chairs up to the window, an audience to nature's most beautiful productions - lightning storms, clouds churning ominously, hail falling, dust storms. We were under a tornado watch all Saturday afternoon until midnight, so the three of us got nice and cozy and watched the Kentucky Derby. Is there a nicer way to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon? YES! Shopping, eating, reading, giving blood, banging your head against the wall, a dentist appointment. I nearly went stir crazy watching two hours of coverage for an event that lasted 10 seconds. And I'm not wild about the sport of horse racing - I think it's borderline animal cruelty. Argue all you want, I won't listen.

After the following conversation, we were off to grab dinner:

Leigh: So, what does everyone want for supper?
Mom: I don't care! Sid, you pick!
Sid: Macaroni Grill!
Leigh: Sid, we'll eat like pigs at Macaroni Grill, and we're on a DIET!
Sid: Mmmm, Caesar salad, spaghetti, bread and olive oil.
Leigh: Noooooo!
Mom: Leigh, pick three places and then we'll decide.
Leigh: Spring Creek -
Mom: The one thing I DON'T want is barbecue.
Leigh: Okay....hmmmm. Lucy's, Half Shells....um.........
Sid: [Silently mourns for the Macaroni Grill meal that could have been]
Mom: Let's just do Lucy's!
Leigh: Lucy's it is!
Sid: [Silence]

Why is it so hard to pick a restaurant? Maybe because there are billions to choose from and it's hard to settle in on one or two choices? After a delicious meal at our local town square cafe, we head home for some TV-watching-chit-chatting-fruit-smoothie-for-dessert-drinking relaxation time, and Sid and I can't help but relive our fake-never-death-experience in Oklahoma last weekend, as the weather outside our window turns dangerously intense. I casually mention that we've never heard the tornado sirens (our town has a phone call warning system and we've answered many of those calls) and I suppose that because the sirens are so far away, we'd only hear them if the TV was off, there was no thunder, no dogs barking- in other words, never! I also inform everyone that the night before I had my recurring tornado nightmare and joke that a tornado will surely be the death of me, as obsessed as I am about them in my awake and sleeping hours. About ten minutes later....the tornado siren starts to wail. Seriously. My heart sinks. There is nothing more terrible that the moment you accept that this could be the real thing, the nightmare realized, the event you most fear, but I'm confused. There is no breaking news on the TV, which is VERY unusual considering the entire area is under a tornado watch. I immediately run to the coat closet and grab three pair of shoes, tossing them in our "safe" room - a small guest bathroom in the middle of the house on the first floor, before I run to the front door. I'm not sure WHY, but I always grab shoes first during storm scares. If I go to bed under a tornado watch, I set an outfit, shoes placed on top, near the bedroom door. I guess I figure if I have to dig my way out of the rubble, my Nikes will be my secret weapon. I walk outside and immediately spot a strange looking dark line in the sky maybe half a mile away. False alarm - just the shadow of the church steeple but I nearly pass out from terror. Sid reports that the backyard view is clear, and we don't hear a thing but rain, thunder, and the stinking siren. The phone rings and it's the pre-recorded emergency warning informing town residents of two unconfirmed 911 reports of a tornado between our town and the next. After a few minutes, we decide we'd be dead already if that tornado was still on the ground, the sirens stop, and we are grateful that a tornado didn't kill us all. For the 100th time, Sid and I conclude that it's time to install a tornado shelter.

We met Stacey-poo at Legacy Center this afternoon for a little lunch and a little shopping. The sushi was divine and the shopping wasn't bad either! We all went home with full bellies and shopping bags, and you can't beat that. I'm still in a state of shock that in 4 weeks we'll all be sailing on a gorgeous cruiseship in ALASKA! ALASKA! How amazing is that? I don't think I'll quiet believe it's true until I'm leaning against the ship railing soaking in the view (I'm a poet and I don't know it). Have I mentioned that Sid and I (and Mom and Paul) scored aft balconies? Our cabins are on the very back of the ship, so our view will be panoramic! I am going to pee my pants, no doubt about it. And all of our rooms are right next door to one another! My first whale sighting? I bet one million dollars that I will boo hoo like a baby. Throw in a bear sighting and I'm done!

Over and out! It's past my bedtime.