And by "Part II" I mean this past weekend. The one we just survived, barely.
(Part I was Memorial Day weekend. Remember? I couldn't be bothered to harass Blogger for not allowing me to post my pictures.)
Saturday/Sunday were also known as crunch time, because as I am just days away from my first big craft show I am in freak out mode to get everything done. And by "everything" I mean the things I already have planned and the things I add to my to-do list daily.
In between activities, Corey scheduled us to attend a barbeque at our friend Scotty O'Dwyer's house.
Scotty O'Dwyer is actually his nickname. I realize nicknames are not usually four syllables longer than the actual name, but it ain't my game. Take it up with Corey.
AnyBBQ, we packed up our sausage roll and cake balls and headed out at 4:30pm for what I thought would be a few hours with friends, and a much needed break for me.
Oh and a break it was; a seven hour one. One that included every type of meat you can fit on a grill, a hot tub, six billion mosquitoes and four half glasses of wine.
I probably could have typed "two glasses of wine" but I drank them one half at a time, so...
Even two full glasses is one and a half glasses more than I have in a month, and I was feeling pret-ty relaxed. I ate cake balls with wild abandon and may have made plans with Corey's cousin to find our way into the Bradley Cooper movie that's filming around here.
The wine then had the same affect on my sleeping as Benadryl does. I was out within seconds of crawling in bed, and then woke up groggy and unsure of my name. In no way was I sick (only two glasses, remember), but I was also not completely "there", and this followed me the rest of the morning.
Like to church.
Yes, I had an incident at church. But let me preface it by saying I normally have a hard time paying attention to speakers in any topic or arena in perfect health and mental well-being. College lectures were a nightmare. You say learning disability, I say mind your own business. Tomato, Tomato.
That saying actually doesn't work in print.
AnyEmbarrassingSituation, Corey and I sat down in the sanctuary and the sermon commenced.
What was it on, you ask?
I could only half pay attention because I have been so sleep deprived for several weeks now and had groggy brain from the wine. Eventually Pastor Bill came to a point in the sermon where I distinctively remember him saying:
"Stand up if you'd like to give glory to God."
I thought to myself, uh, yeah I 'd like to do that.
I looked over at Corey, "Let's stand up."
He gave me a quizitive look and we stood. But not everyone in the sanctuary did. In fact, only half of the people stood up, and the ones sitting were clapping.
"Why isn't everyone standing?"
"...I don't know..."
Eventually we sit down and the pastor talks about hardships and difficult situations most people struggle with and I assume that's why we stood up: we had hardships at some point in our lives. That's ok, I thought. I got those.
So on we go with our day.
Then I talked to my dad, who also attends the same church but went to the earlier service.
"Hey, remember when Pastor Bill asked people to stand up in church this morning?"
"Um, what were they standing for?"
"That was for people who have conquered addictions."
"Get outta town."
Oh dear sweet baby pandas what have I done.
I've let about 200 people speculate Corey and I met at a rehab clinic, that's what I've done.
Oh the embarrassment.
The painful lesson that late nights and rabble-rousing may seem like fun at the time but have horrrrrible, embarrassing consequences.
But on another note: I was super productive, so...