I needed to pee the minute I crossed the starting line. And no, I didn’t notice the porta-john sitting to my left, conveniently located near the finish line, until I crossed it 45 minutes later. So I really can’t say if I finished the March for Babies in 45 minutes because I am just in that good of shape, because I was afraid of being late for Buttercup’s noon swim class, or because I was walking like a speed-demon purely on the instinctive need to not pee myself in public.

It was a crazy day. After no sleep (cuz I never sleep the night before something big) I got up at 5:30 while the rest of my house slept. The Husband was already at work and I happily prepared myself for my solo contribution to the Florida-based Team Haris.

Then I got lost. I had driven my mother’s car and forgot to grab my GPS. So I had nothing to rely on but my blackberry and Google Maps, which in normal circumstances would totally be fine. And by normal, I mean when I don’t have a deadline to get somewhere. But my blackberry is being very uncooperative right now and the best I could get was directions that pretty much equated to “Here’s the haystack. Now find the needle.”

Did you know that the  University of Arizona is huuuuge? And that I drove around for 30 minutes asking random people where the hell I needed to go? And that I drive the wrong way down one-way streets? Or that when I finally found the starting point, I ended up parking illegally and could only hope my car was still there when I was through because I was now running very late and had no choice but to put it in park and just pray?

So I prayed. And I walked. The plan had been to listen to my Manic Mommies podcast and catch up on old shows (because I’m about 4 months behind now) and just enjoy the time to myself. But I hadn’t counted on how loud the crowd was going to be and just couldn’t be bothered with stopping to take the camel-pack off my back to reset the volume or the show I had accidentally selected. So I listened (again) to Kate talk about life before she wasn’t the Mom to Multiples that Everyone Loves to Hate (As Much as now, I mean).

I hauled ass. I had places to go and things to do. So by the time I actually saw the porta-john at the finish line, I actually considered breezing by it, collecting my sticker, my sweatshirt for raising $500 or more,  and zooming home. But then I remembered the 45 minute drive and delayed my finish-line victory dance so I could take a much deserved moment to pee. (It should also be noted that since Buttercup was home with my mom, I actually got to pee in private for the first time in three years.)

During that little moment to reflect, it hit me. I was going to have to show the Mexi-fro. I didn’t think I was going to have to do it. Which is really the only I promised I would. But since Juliette worked so hard (and @blogdangerously lended such a huge amount of support), I not only made my $500 March for Babies goal…I surpassed it!

Please click here to read Juliette’s amazing thank you to all of our supporters, including @blogdangerously, @DeniseMSwank, @sneakpeekatme, @craftycmc, @bettyviolablue, @Sinfully_Cute, @bdmiller3132, @Sparrowbug, @ape131313, @kristiecookauth and dozens more.

(And hugs right back atcha, babe.)

I’ll admit to feeling a bit conflicted when Juliette called me, laughing, because I was now going to have to make good on my promise. And I promised to get her back one day. When I have a minute to think. Which probably won’t happen until next year in the same porta-john, providing I leave Buttercup at home, that is. Which means Juliette’s off the hook for now.

So here is is, people. The Mexi-fro. Feel free to point and laugh. I know it ain’t pretty.

First,the side view. Which is what The Husband sees every morning when he wakes up before me. Tell me if that isn’t love. Lesser men would have run screaming after the hangover wore off.

Here’s the other side. Because, well, never mind. It’s just as bad.

I’ll just say what you are thinking. I look like a crack-whore. It’s okay. I get it all the time.

I’m thinking I was popular at slumber parties because I qualified as free entertainment.

And yes, there is a reason I wore my one and only Harajuku T-shirt, and that would be because I am a Harajuku girl.

And a huge thank you to everyone who supported me in my effort to support my friend and the memory of her son. It kind of takes the sting away from having to humiliate myself in the name of charity.

Almost.

Now the only question is, what in God’s name am I going to do next year to top this? Because really? I have no idea.