Home again, home again. And when I walked into work this morn, there was no buffet, which is shocking when you get used to it on a boat. But a four-day cruise is plenty long enough. I think I feel the building moving... ;)

ONE MONTH GRAND MAL FREE! This is a very big deal. Lots of focal point seizures, though. Like, daily. Endoxi, though. It's all good.

To celebrate, we traveled the short distance to the Rockin' A Farm, taking a case of Lone Star Light as a goodwill gesture, to look at black lab puppies and love all over 9-month-old Shelby Nicole.

She is delicious. When I held her I told her I knew her mom when she used to rock and roll, and if she ever wants stories about Linton boys(or whatever), I'm good for that.

No, we are not getting a puppy. They're sure cute. But no. Catching their scent on our clothing, Lucky acted like a betrayed wife when we returned home.

Since I was 21, my brother Travis has been taunting me. "Hey, you're gonna be 30," to which I'd reply, "Yeah. Someday."

And I've gotta tell ya, there have been days where it doesn't quite feel like I'll see 30. Everyone has them. But now, ah, now, it's a mere week away. And I'll let you in on a secret. I'm not as scared as I make out to be. People just like to tease and get a reaction and see you freak out about losing your youth. It's just another number. Numbers don't mean a thang. But my neurosurgeon appointment is tentatively April 4, 4/4, and 44 was my jersey number when I cheered football...

And I will be in Mexico over my birthday, so the change won't be valid. We all know what happens in Mexico stays there. Usually. And if I don't leave my stateroom that day, I'm pretty sure I can stay 29. I think I read that in the rules manual.

I phoned an office for business many, many miles away. Somewhere in the mid-to-upper Midwest, but far, far away from anywhere I've ever been.

While on hold, listening to the local country station, I heard the morning show host and realized that I USED TO WORK WITH THAT GUY at another radio station!

The world is so small. I say, see it all.

Naomi, where are you? Nobody knows what to think. Flyers everywhere. We're praying you're not afraid.

It's been almost a month now and the longer this goes on, it just feels worse. We love you.

This morning, I was miserable. I so felt like Sept 1, 1999, I practically felt a breeze on my face from the pages of the calendar whipping back in time. I was dizzy/nauseous/double-visionary. I was numb from the top of my noggin to the tips of all twenty extremities. Yes, Nicole! Tingling fingers and toes! Gotta be that Topamax, right? RIGHT?

I pounded down two large coffees in order to try to bring my system to something close to equilibrium, and I had just cracked open a Diet Dr. B.

Dr B soda is H-E-B's Dr Pepper equivalent. Perfect. It's just perfect. The label states, "Cures your Thirst!" In my circle, Dr B (Bogaev) can cure most everything.

I knew once the caffeine and fervent prayers took effect, I'd be able to make it through the rest of the day.

Just then, the precious mailroom man set a ProFlowers box next to my chair. I was leaving a voicemail. I saw the box and just knew. When I got off the phone, my co-worker Linda helped me slice into the box, and unwrap two dozen multi-colored roses! They do this so that I will still have flowers left. I love to give them away. People are so happy when they get flowers, even if yeah, yeah, they die. They're pretty and they make people happy. I love that.

My Unloseable Mom and Dad sent me a dozen a couple years ago, then eighteen for a brain birthday. Today, I got two dozen and the order included a box of Ghirardelli chocolate. I got HOOKED UP!

I'm going to take Dr B. a case of that soda when I go to see him.

This weekend, a startling discovery was made. Elissa lives down the road. Elissa and I would trade coats for recess in first grade, and on Friday nights in junior high, we would each drink half a can of beer in her parents' basement and I really thought that was the height of my rebellion. I was such a badass.

When I say "down the road" I don't mean in the area, or even in the town. I mean, DOWN THE ROAD from my subdivision is the driveway of one of my best friends from junior high. I knew she was in the Force down here, but given my last few years of memory, I just did not realize it was this close.

Her brother-in-law's brother works with me, and her brother got married in Washburn at Christmas, so she saw my mom. Saturday morning, my doorbell rang. Erik kept cappuccinos coming. Early 90s photo albums were viewed. Erik pretended not to hear some of the stuff we said.

Then, we went shopping, the two of us, to get her hair cut and find Cruise Clothes for me. And on the way back home, in the distance we see North Dakota tags on a truck.

"Let's catch up!" she says. "Maybe we know 'em!"

Yeah, the minds of North Dakotans abroad. We think we know everybody. That's why Texas is a good match, because it's so friendly. So, we drive past this this big truck with ND plates, and wave our arms like crazy. Realizing the occupants of the vehicle are two young guys, probably in the Air Force or something, we turned around in our seats and assumed a more responsible position... and exited the interstate immediately...

Ooooh, baby, I am feeling the burn. Knew I shouldn't have done it. It's something every girl inherently knows she is not to do, but I was in a hurry. I'm praying a dab of lotion will cool this off.

I don't think it was my mother that taught me these intricate little laws. I'm pretty sure everything I ever needed to know at puberty was learned in Cabin #7 at Wesley Acres Methodist Church Camp.

I dry-shaved my legs earlier tonight.