mingle, mingle

When I was a kid I used to attend mission trips, youth groups, leadership camps, and such.  You get the picture.  There was always this icebreaker where we had to wander aimlessly around the room with our hands and fingers making little ears on our heads and say, “Mingle, Mingle, Mingle, Mingle…” until someone said stop.  Where we stopped we told the person that we stopped next to all about ourselves.  I hated this icebreaker, hence the creation of the vegtable game by a dear friend, that’s for another day.  The reason I hated this game is because, I by nature am extremely historonic.  I assume that one day some phenomenal writer, like Dr. Snarky, will write all about how I get myself in and get myself out of different phases of life with a complete lack of grace comparable to falling on your face in a gas station parking lot or running smack into a sliding glass door.  Thus I can not tell someone all about myself.  I have no cliff note version.  I never have.  I am simply a girl, who’s mom used to threaten catching her tounge if she stuck it out again…one day she did.  I don’t think I ever stuck it out again.  I am defined by random things like that.  So this mingle game, it is way too much for me to handle. With that said, I am determined to play the mingle game with Lafayette.  I am just recently reclaiming my life again. Reclaiming it from me.  I want to get to know all that this little metropolis has to offer, as it is high time I stay in one place for a while, no matter what circumstances brought me here. 

As much as I would love for my first outing to be Chocoholic Frolic, I am quite convinced that would not be good for the diet. Especially since I am out, on doctors orders, of the gym for the next 2 weeks minimum.  Must stick to the other parts.  Instead I intend to be draggin some awesomely lucking schmuck to 2nd Saturday Art Walk

Second Saturday Art Walk

The following weekend is an amazing bachelorette party, however, before I head over for some good ole gal time and wine and paint and Italian Cream Cake(brides request). I would love to walk–slowly but surely this will change to run– in the King Cake 5K if for nothing else, they have amazingly precious shirts.  Baseball T’s with green sleeves.  Alas, we will see what the calendar and the pocket-book allow. 

Till next time, “mingle, mingle, mingle, mingle…stop!”

lifetimes of paper rainbows….W

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