The Six Stooges

This post is entitled "Stupid Things You Do When Under the Influence". Under the influence of crazy friends, that is. On Mother's Day weekend, I went with some ladies from church on an overnight retreat to Lake Cavanaugh. It was unbelieveable. I always subscribe to the idea that boys never grow up--I mean, my husband is almost 33 years old and he still asks me to pull his finger when he has to pass gas! For Pete's sake! O.k., so after this overnight thing, I have to say that girls don't grow up either. I got to know these ladies on a whole new level. It's funny what a little "time away", a whole lot of junk food, and the late hour can do to a group of grown women . We were "pinching and giggling" (to borrow an expression from my husband who says that's what us girls do when we get together--hey, better that than "farting and bragging", which is what guys do) into the night and morning, too. We didn't get to bed until 2 am or so, which I still haven't recovered from. Anyway, sometime during the evening, we were talking about Girls' Camp and skinny dipping and such and I mentioned the Polar Dip (you know, jumping into a freezing cold lake at 5am? It's a big hit at Girls' Camp). So, in my utter stupidity, I said I would do it. And then my friend, Amy said she would, too. Oh, we yucked it up, laughing and looking macho all night. Talk is cheap, I tell ya. So, as I lay in my sleeping bag, listening to the birdies chirping and trying not to notice the early light slipping in (which signifies morning, obviously, and time to get up--ugh), I recalled my bravado the previous night. "Oh, please don't let Amy remember," was my plea. Unfortunately, Amy remembered. And she said, "Come on. Let's go Polar Dip!" Or some such nonsense. I tried to back out. I wheedled and negotiated and reasoned. And I managed to put her off for most of the morning. Finally, we were all getting ready to go. And I knew Amy wasn't going to let it rest. She was starting to hint that I might be a "chicken" (you know, flapping of arms and "bock, bock, bock). That did it. I had dug my own grave (or water hole, as the case may be). Most everyone left, but there were a few who stuck around to witness our plunge into the lake. And another friend, Emily decided to join in the stupidity. Notice the photos: I refused to skinny dip (never done it and won't ever). We all went in fully-clothed. And I decided since I had to do it, I might as well do a cannonball. Luckily, we got some great photos. I mean, check out the air on my jump! Sweet. I'm telling you--that water was so dang cold! Apparently, the lake was full of glacier run-off. Double sweet. Not to mention the bottom of the lake felt like a slimy nasty stew of some sort. So, I did it. And now I am a celebrity at church. Fame has its price, I guess. Oh, and just so you know....there was one more photo. It was of us coming out of the water. My pants were falling off and there's a nice white chunk of my bum hanging out of the top. Wisdom suggested that I not post this photo (it would probably come back to haunt me). Hope you made it through yet another one of my very lengthy blog posts. Have a great day, all!