Showing posts with label Miss Oklahoma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miss Oklahoma. Show all posts
Friday, July 5, 2013
Friday Favorite: Miss July
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Inklings Retreat 2013
I love my writing group and our annual writing retreat at Lake Tenkiller. This summer was our tenth-ish year to hang out at the lake, eat lots of food, critique works in progress, and laugh. A lot.
This year Dee Dee Chumley introduced a word tournament. It's kind of like March Madness, but with a bunch of logophiles instead of athletes We (okay, mostly I) slung a lot of words around trying to intimidate other players and help Dee Dee with tough-talk dialogue for her next novel. Of course, one can only sound so intimidating when throwing around language like "confabulation" and "diaphanous." But it paid off. I won with the word "petulant." (Ironic since I was talking trash, don't you think?) We might have trouble if you tell me you would have voted for Lisa Marotta's word that also made the finals:"serendipity.'
Sometimes we make it to the water to float around and commune with the dragonflies. This year, a few of us ventured forth and practiced water yoga with Heather Ezell of Hang Zen. It was awesome. Then we went back to the deck and enjoyed some of my daddy's special sangria--that Kelly helped doctor with OJ--while talking about all things bloggy. I'm already looking forward to our fall retreat!
Read more about my ideas about yoga over on Oklahoma Women Bloggers.
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| photo courtesy of Lisa Marotta |
Sometimes we make it to the water to float around and commune with the dragonflies. This year, a few of us ventured forth and practiced water yoga with Heather Ezell of Hang Zen. It was awesome. Then we went back to the deck and enjoyed some of my daddy's special sangria--that Kelly helped doctor with OJ--while talking about all things bloggy. I'm already looking forward to our fall retreat!
Pictured below are Martha Bryant, Dee Dee Chumley, Kelly Bristow, Heather Ezell of Hang Zen, Lisa Marotta, and Brandi Barnett.
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| photo courtesy of Kevin Ezell of Hang Zen yoga |
Read more about my ideas about yoga over on Oklahoma Women Bloggers.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Friday Favorite: Miss(ed) Oklahoma
Although she is queen of her domain, my friend Jennifer lives in a neighborhood of princesses and a home of four princes. When a queen summons, I do her bidding.
She invited me to attend the Miss Oklahoma pageant in Tulsa to support her lovely neighbors. One was contestant Emily Ousley and the other was her "Oklahoma Star," a program in which little girls are mentored by contestants. They were both lovely.
Plus, I saw two OU Tri-Deltas were in the running, so I got all collegiate nostalgic.
Although we almost missed the pageant.
On the way there, Jen said, "If anyone were with us, they'd kill us."
Yep. But it was hilarious.
After spending an afternoon with me driving us to pedicures and tea at Dragonmoon Tea Company, Jennifer insisted on driving. She activated her On Star and said, "You have to get this."
Clearly, she didn't yet comprehend the magnitude of my geographical challenges. Like the Bermuda Triangle, my curse soon reached out and grabbed her. We barreled down the interstate, following the instructions, and encountered a giant "CLOSED" sign plastered across our route. I laughed at her surprise. This sort of thing always happened to me. She called and gathered new directions. We were to turn on 11th street. Guess what? We were at an intersection where both signs said 11th street. I kid you not. These things happen to me all the time. It's a gift.
The pageant began at 7:30. The rain began at 8:04. We arrived in the parking lot at 8:08. As we raced toward the Mabee Center, a woman eyeballed us. I called, "Did we miss the good part?" (Since I've never attended a pageant, I didn't know what that would be, but certainly there is one.) She encouraged us to hurry because we'd missed the opening number and they were about to announce the top 15.
We never found our seats, but we caught a lot of the show.
In fact, I fear we were part of the show. A pregnant lady in heels. A tired mom of three under three lugging a good-natured four-month-old. We found seats near her friends at one point, but because Baby J wasn't fond of classical music in the talent competition, we courteously sped out. Let me restate that...Jennifer was courteous. I'm pretty sure I bonked some poor guy on the head with both my purse and her diaper bag.
While watching the swimsuit competition from the aisle, an older gentleman must have been impressed with the soon-to-be crowned Betty Thompson. He looked me up and down. "Those girls don't understand women don't look like that after thirty." Hackles raised, I threw my shoulders back and pregnant belly forward. "Speak for yourself. After I had my first baby, I looked just like that." I patted my tummy. "You ought to see me next summer when I'm through with this one."
He had the nerve to grimace like he didn't believe me.
To his credit, I checked myself out in the mirror before I left for the evening and thought remember when someone told you you looked hot, and you knew they weren't thinking you needed an air conditioner and glass of iced tea?
Still... Even queen mothers should be treated with respect or they can be be a royal pain.
Plus, I saw two OU Tri-Deltas were in the running, so I got all collegiate nostalgic.
Although we almost missed the pageant.
On the way there, Jen said, "If anyone were with us, they'd kill us."
Yep. But it was hilarious.
After spending an afternoon with me driving us to pedicures and tea at Dragonmoon Tea Company, Jennifer insisted on driving. She activated her On Star and said, "You have to get this."
Clearly, she didn't yet comprehend the magnitude of my geographical challenges. Like the Bermuda Triangle, my curse soon reached out and grabbed her. We barreled down the interstate, following the instructions, and encountered a giant "CLOSED" sign plastered across our route. I laughed at her surprise. This sort of thing always happened to me. She called and gathered new directions. We were to turn on 11th street. Guess what? We were at an intersection where both signs said 11th street. I kid you not. These things happen to me all the time. It's a gift.
The pageant began at 7:30. The rain began at 8:04. We arrived in the parking lot at 8:08. As we raced toward the Mabee Center, a woman eyeballed us. I called, "Did we miss the good part?" (Since I've never attended a pageant, I didn't know what that would be, but certainly there is one.) She encouraged us to hurry because we'd missed the opening number and they were about to announce the top 15.
We never found our seats, but we caught a lot of the show.
In fact, I fear we were part of the show. A pregnant lady in heels. A tired mom of three under three lugging a good-natured four-month-old. We found seats near her friends at one point, but because Baby J wasn't fond of classical music in the talent competition, we courteously sped out. Let me restate that...Jennifer was courteous. I'm pretty sure I bonked some poor guy on the head with both my purse and her diaper bag.
While watching the swimsuit competition from the aisle, an older gentleman must have been impressed with the soon-to-be crowned Betty Thompson. He looked me up and down. "Those girls don't understand women don't look like that after thirty." Hackles raised, I threw my shoulders back and pregnant belly forward. "Speak for yourself. After I had my first baby, I looked just like that." I patted my tummy. "You ought to see me next summer when I'm through with this one."
He had the nerve to grimace like he didn't believe me.
To his credit, I checked myself out in the mirror before I left for the evening and thought remember when someone told you you looked hot, and you knew they weren't thinking you needed an air conditioner and glass of iced tea?
Still... Even queen mothers should be treated with respect or they can be be a royal pain.
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