Bowling on a Friday Night

Over a year and a half ago, John and I experienced our initial courtship interaction through first-date bowling. In such a romantic atmosphere, it was destined to turn out well for us both. Our Blacklight Bowling session followed the all-you-can-eat Mongolian BBQ dinner. I should have known right then and there what I was getting myself into! Actually, I DID know that I really liked this guy. And that he had nice arms and legs (as displayed in the pictures above...not bad for a banker, huh?) It was fun to re-live that first-date tension tonight, minus the full stomachs from endless bowls of meat, rice, and veggies drenched in soy sauce.

We went bowling with Matthew, John's brother, and his wife, Heather. We will choose our bowling competition more carefully next time, as they absolutely creamed us in two games! We arrived early enough that we got our lane immediately. It didn't take long before we were all complaining about how the heavy bowling balls were straining our forearms and permanently damaging our fingers. And, to make it all more fun, I did terribly. For someone who got to bowl twice a year as a kid growing up, I should have brought more of an A-game tonight. It was embarrassing. I guess the rare stints in Wii Bowling have made me even worse at the real thing (who would have thought it was possible for me to get worse?!).

Luckily, we spared ourselves several unidentifiable diseases by bringing our own bowling shoes. Aren't they cool? Don't worry, we aren't moving into a trailer or joining any bowling leagues soon. But it is fun to have our own shoes! Can you really go wrong with flames? In addition, John had a ball drilled for him a few months ago because he could never get his fingers to fit in any of the offerings at the alley. He was able to break it in tonight and did well, though he hung his head in shame because a girl beat him (not me...I will let everyone guess which "M" represents me on the scoreboard).

Though we had a blast, I promise...growing a mullet is not in our (near) future. Besides, our application to the league got denied after they witnessed tonight's performance. There's always next year!

Magazine Hair

I've never been accused of being good at hair. I wasn't the kid cornered during recess so I could impart my hairdo expertise onto other Troll dolls. In fact, it wasn't until I was 13 that I learned to braid, taught by my impatient and much younger step-sister who was absolutely revolted when she found out that I was ignorant of possessing such a skill.

I like to look my best and don't mind putting forth the effort to make it happen, as long as it turns out correctly (usually luck) and lasts all day (never happens, no matter how much hairspray is used). There might be nothing worse than curling my hair all morning, only to have the luscious curls and bounteous volume disappear before we even pull into the church parking lot.

So when I say I tried a new hairstyle yesterday, I expect the world to gasp in shock.

I found a beautiful picture and easy steps in my favorite magazine, Real Simple, to create a five-minute hairdo. I read the instructions several times and studied the picture carefully to convince my brain that I could conquer such an undertaking. So what if I don't own any bobby pins! Who needs 'em! And I like the character added by my "messy" version. Who likes slick, perfect-looking hair?! That stuff is for boring professional hairdressers (and apparently models in magazines).

It was fun to try. And, believe it or not, I felt more feminine because I knew I had made the effort to improve my look. A braided side bun is way prettier than a good ol' ponytail. And now I know that! I doubt I will stay awake at night wondering how else to make my locks turn into perfection. But a temporary dip into the world of hair will probably do me some good now and then.