A girl should really take a look at herself in the mirror before she goes out. Wouldn't you agree?
Obviously, I completely forgot to look in the mirror the other day when a bunch of us (14 to be exact) went hiking. Since I had organized what was going to be a 12-hour day for Lancaster Young Adult Catholics, I was thinking about every detail other than my appearance.
And so, after we all attended Mass where I was the lector (and, fortunately, I had put together a nice outfit for that), we crossed the street and entered my little house, where we filled our water bottles and changed into our hiking gear.
Among those coming and going through my house, Theresa played the piano, her brother Steve petted Macy, and I stepped into the bedroom to change my clothes. Unbeknown to me, I was walking into a ticking fashion time bomb!
But, as I walked out...my friends said nothing.
I shouldn't blame any of the guys, because men typically can't distinguish color shades, nor do they understand the subtle rules of fashion, right? And I certainly can't blame Clare because she's blind. Nor can I hold Macy accountable because, remember, dogs can't see color. Perhaps there really is no one to blame but myself. :-(
And so, in an excited rush, off we went (as a caravan of cars) to beautiful Mount Grenta, where we met up with others for lunch at the Jigger Shop.
Even while slurping down my chocolate milkshake and enjoying great conversation, I was still blissfully ignorant of my attire -- until our resident photographer named Ariel started snapping pictures.
As all girls do at moments when they're being photographed, I began to think about what I was wearing. Suddenly, I glanced down and saw myself; I looked like a CLOWN!
I had upon my person the most unfortunate combination of colors and patterns. I was wearing these brightly-colored, plaid Bermuda shorts that were two sizes too big. My sweatshirt was a powerful mustard yellow. My sneakers were a zesty shade of lime green. The bag slung over my shoulder had a rainbow of stitches in it, and the second bag that I carried that day--which you'll see in the photo below, slung over my friend John's shoulder--was equally intense.
In fact, if you look closely in this candid photograph which Ariel took, you'll see that EVERYONE was concerned. John emerged as the hero of the group, for he obviously felt compelled to carry at least one of my crazy bags, probably figuring that his black shirt would offset the insanity. Brittany has just looked away from the brightness which was me, and her face seems to long for sunglasses. Shaun is staring at John's acceptance of the bag with the same inability to look away as one has for a car crash scene. Only Macy is humored by the situation; her mouth seems to be parted in a smile.
As humility washed over me, I realized that this colorful outfit and I would simply have to get along, given that we had another 9 hours to go together. Needing strength for the journey, I suggested that we do a Rosary Walk, and so this we did together as a group, while hiking through the trails. It was beautiful.
And, just like Clare had felt Our Lady tell her, our day--which was predicted to be one filled with thunderstorms--only gave us a few drops and for only a few minutes. It was a perfect day!
Our evening finished with a concert in Long's Park. Thank you so much for making it a memorable day, Brittany, Stuart, Shaun, John, Clare, Chris, Theresa, Steve, Sara, Ariel, Joseph, Jess, and Macy! Here are some photographs from the day!
