earning the Dork badge

I have a problem with volunteering. Actually it's more of a problem with not being able to say 'No' (to people over age 8). So, I'm the cub scout master- which is kinda cool because, who masters the cubs? I DO.
But then I teach CCD, which is just not flashy. And then I bring mediocre food to pot lucks and bake sales.
Anyhow I realized the extent of my problem the other day when I found myself introducing myself as "You may have known me as Professor Wilma" (my starring role as the kooky scientist at our science lab of vacation bible study.) Sigh.
Anyhow- when I'm not being helpful I sometimes take pictures. Today we went Ice Skating with Nanna Carrie and I was not as useful as the wall for holding the wobbly kids up.

The Biggest Loser

Tell me about it! I wanted to post this blog with before and afta pictures of Bill from last summer and this summer- it's a major difference but he's such a beefcake now that we'd get all sorts of the wrong kind of attention on our blog. Playgirl will have to find their next calendar man elsewhere. He runs races, works out MORE than once a day, bikes to and from work 4 days a week!!!! (and Ankara has hills!) He's even doing Yoga with me...but in a very macho way.

I had a loss of my own; in the hair department. Wouldn't it be cool to have dreadlocks? To have a hairstyle that requires no primping but can still go into braids, pony tails, chopstick buns and other variations. And what about the message it sends. Hair with a message...that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Something that says "Hello world- I don't buy into your narrow view of beauty." I want dreadlocks. I managed to get three of my disapproving and conventional friends over under false pretenses and then pleaded with them to put my hair into dreadlocks. It's a very complicated process- as you can see from the picture.

Dreadlocks take patience. One must release any concern for what others think as your hair spazes out and looks nothing like dreadlocks for weeks and smells funny from the Apple Cider Vinegar used for shampoo. I hang out with a lot of kids so there were the occaisional whispers of "why is your Mom's hair doing that?" and the more frequent and direct..."why is your hair crazy today?" I was going strong for a few weeks and then there was the Egyptian food poisoning episode (see previous blog). Writing about this is sort of like when you taste something gross, announce "This is gross" and then hand it to someone and say "Try it." We had food poisioning...it wasn't a stomach bug where one person gets it first and then when they just get over the worst of it, you get it, and then the next day the other kid gets it. We all got hit with nausea on the same night. Picture this- we're all in ONE hotel room, with ONE bathroom. At first I'm all 'ick' and dragging pukey bedsheets to the tiny bathroom sink and spot washing with laundry soap. But after getting up 5 times in the middle of the night to clean up after 3 different sickos- and feeling totally rotten myself- I just started putting the smelly blankets on to the balcony and going back to lie down. (Alright, it was really only once that I tried to clean before moving on to the balcony of leave-it-for-the-maid technique).
Anyhow, with the smells and the cleaning and the general smog and dirt of Egypt I got to the point of wanting nothing more but to take 3 showers a day and my new baby dreadies wouldn't hold up to that much washing. I just relented and combed them all out. Which is sad now. I miss my hair and want dreadlocks even more than ever.

Seeing stuff that's really quite old

Egypt was fun. What would a trip be without the inevitable moments of feeling like you were married to Chevy Chase and in the movie Vacation rather than on vacation? Apart from the 48 hours we spent with food poisoning (note: when you go on the dinner cruise on the Nile...avoid the buffet food) we had a great time seeing lots of really old things and playing in the hotel waterpark pool.